Chapter 3

After the encounter with Vũ at Black Gorge, the atmosphere in the camp changed.

No one said it out loud, but everyone knew – he had truly returned. No longer a distant rumor, no longer a campfire legend told by bored soldiers. But a shadow that could laugh, could call people by name, and could sow fear with a whisper as soft as the wind.

Three days later, Zeo was deployed.

---

Zeo was the former captain of the Southern Special Forces – a man who had fought for nearly five years in the forests near the border, where bodies were left unburied, and the streams ran red with blood.

Tall, sun-darkened skin, broad shoulders, and a voice always hoarse, as if coughing up a memory already rotten.

> “Been a while, Sina.”

Zeo shook hands with Sina, but his eyes lingered on me – for quite some time.

I knew instantly: he had heard of me. And not in a good way.

> “This is Bell?” – Zeo asked.

I nodded, without hiding anything.

Zeo smiled. Neither friendly nor hostile.

Just the kind of smile from someone used to seeing people change sides like they change worn-out boots.

---

Then there was Thanh – a young soldier, only nineteen, known as the "tactical prodigy" of the borderlands.

Quiet, reserved, but with sharp eyes that always seemed to calculate several moves ahead of his enemies.

When he met me, Thanh didn’t greet me. Just a slight nod, then turned his attention to the camp layout.

But that night, I saw him silently lighting three incense sticks by a tree behind the barracks.

As I passed, I clearly heard him mumble:

> “For my sister… for my mother… for the child whose skull shattered the other day…”

I didn’t know why, but something in my chest ached.

---

We began gathering for the upcoming troop movement.

No one said it, but we all understood – this was the clearing path before a major battle.

The way Sina silently reviewed the casualty lists, the way Umi triple-checked the weapons inventory, the way Zeo kept smoking… all said one thing:

they knew someone wasn’t coming back.

And in that silence, Sina gave me a mission.

> “You're going with Zeo and Thanh. Clear the forest section blocking the supply route. Simple, but if Vũ wants to stir trouble early, he might send someone.”

I didn’t ask why he picked me.

Didn’t ask why he didn’t keep me back, like someone suspected of betrayal.

Sina just said:

> “I want to see… what you choose when no one's watching.”

---

That afternoon before we left, I met Umi by the fire pit.

She handed me a strip of cloth for my wrist.

> “You’re not weak. Just… brittle.”

I stared at her.

She didn’t touch me. But her voice was a little softer than it was the day before.

---

When I got back to the barracks, Zeo was already waiting.

> “Ready, turncoat?”

I laughed.

> “Not really. But if we’re going, let’s go.”

Zeo laughed loudly – the laugh of someone who’d seen so much death, it no longer stirred anything in him.

---

And so it was, I – Bell, the former traitor – once again wore the uniform, walking beside two people I couldn’t understand how they’d survived this long.

In the forest, where the shadows slowly seeped into the leaves, I heard on the wind...

someone whispering.

> “Bell…”

It was Vũ’s voice.

But when I turned around, Thanh was just checking his ammo, Zeo sharpening his blade.

No one had called me.

Only me… and my name…

carried away by the wind.

---

Point of view: Sina

---

There’s a certain kind of silence that only exists on the front lines.

Not peace. Not fear.

But the kind of silence… like someone holding their breath, waiting for a knife to strike – not knowing from where, or when.

I’ve lived with that silence for nearly ten years.

---

The northern front was breached three days ago.

Twenty-six soldiers dead.

Three of them I knew by name.

The young private who always told cat stories.

The clumsy engineer, only twenty-four, with awkward hands.

And one boy… who once told me, “I’m not good at this, but I won’t die before I get three wounded men to safety.”

He died.

Made it with… just one.

I didn’t get there in time.

---

Now I sit in a makeshift command post, facing a map painted red with threat points.

Each marker a life.

Each arrow a guess between life and death.

Umi brought in the latest casualty report.

> “Five more with lost legs.”

> “…Still alive?” – I asked.

> “For now.”

I looked at her.

Umi didn’t say more.

Just stood tall, didn’t bow, didn’t break eye contact.

I trust her – not because of loyalty, but because she’s strong enough not to need anyone’s pity.

---

When everyone left, I stayed behind alone.

Wind from outside blew in cold, carrying that metallic scent – the smell of dried blood.

I asked myself, what am I holding onto here?

A peace yet to come?

A torn ideal?

A group of young people… whose names I haven’t even fully remembered?

Bell isn’t here.

I sent him off with Zeo.

Some might think I was foolish.

But… I needed him away from the front for a while.

Not out of suspicion.

But because I saw in his eyes…

a crack that hasn’t healed, trembling between light and shadow.

---

I don’t believe I can pull anyone back from the edge.

I just…

want to be there, if they fall.

Umi once bluntly asked me:

> “How many people in this camp do you actually trust?”

I didn’t answer.

Because, truthfully – I don’t trust anyone.

But I choose to.

Even knowing that choosing to trust… means I could lose.

---

I stepped out of the command post, climbed to the eastern ridge – the place where I could see the camp glowing with scattered fires like falling stars.

Cold.

I can’t remember the last time I slept deeply.

Can’t remember the scent of peace.

Can’t even recall my mother’s voice anymore.

What I do remember…

are bloodstains.

Burning uniforms.

And the eyes of those I couldn’t save.

---

I ask myself –

If one day there’s no one left to save…

will I still remember why I stood up at all?