This time—twenty men flooded in.
Armored.
Weapons raised. Eyes hard.
No hesitation.
They had learned.
I saw it in the way they moved.
In the way they spread out.
In the way they didn’t rush me the same way the first group had.
I tried.
God help me—I tried.
The first one came too close.
I swung—caught him across the jaw.
He staggered.
A kick followed—into the gut of another man rushing in beside him.
He doubled over.
But my body—my body was failing me.
My arms felt heavy.
Like they were filled with lead.
My legs shook with every movement.
My vision blurred at the edges, tunneling in and out like I was slipping in and out of consciousness.
My lungs burned.
Refused to fill properly.
There wasn’t enough air. There wasn’t enough time.
And there were too many of them.
They swarmed.
Hands seized me from every direction.
Wrists. Ankles. Shoulders.
I struggled.
Kicked. Twisted.
Fought with everything I had left.
