She Outshines Them All



As Athena made her way back, in the quiet of Hillcrest's small-town military hospital, far from Kitmore City, an elderly man lay in bed, his white hair lending a gentle dignity to his worn face.

Looking at his granddaughter by his side, he began in a rough, nostalgic voice, "The one I let down most in my life was that boy.

"He joined the army at neen-sharp, full of energy. He could write, he could fight. Like a young tree, growing strong, ready to stand tall one day. "On the training grounds, he always stood out. Every time I visited, he was the first one I would spot. It made me feel like the world was worth living again."

His gaze drifted as he recalled, his voice softer. "He had an older brother on the front lines, and he could've stayed behind, somewhere safer. But I admired him too much, so I brought him close, wanted him by my side.

"One day, during patrol, we ran into rebels disguised as refugees. He was the first to sense something was wrong. He shouted and stepped right in front of me, took two bullets without hesitation. Even as he fell, he managed to kill three of them."

Tears gathered in his eyes. "If it weren't for him, I would have been gone long ago. I'd have missed out on marriage, on a family-and you would not even be here.

"He was only twenty-one. Two short years in the service, and his older and younger brothers... they gave their lives too. The Donovan family-they were loyal to the end."

His granddaughter had heard this story time and time again, but she still listened intently, taking it all in as if it were new.

"Grandpa," she said, kneeling down and holding his hand firmly, "I understand. And I promise, I will protect Zayn, no matter what it takes."

The old man looked her straight in the eye. "The Jackal gang is there for Zayn. They are likely not planning to come back alive. When it's time, they'll try to take as many people down with them. Are you really ready for this?"

“Absolutely,” she replied, her face calm. “I'm ready."

At that moment, the door opened, and her guard stepped in. "Major General, the helicopter is ready."

The woman stood up and saluted the old man. "I will head out now. I won't come back until the mission is complete."

With a shaking hand, he returned her salute. "Go on, then."

Without looking back, she walked out of the room.

Outside, behind the inpatient building, a high-speed military helicopter was already waiting. She climbed aboard and piloted it out of Hillcrest toward Gringger City.

On the outskirts of Gringger City stood an infamous unfinished complex. Once the future of luxury tourism, Wyomarlo City was an ambitious 20 billion dollars project by Infinity Group, set to span eight thousand acres.

But as the giant company crumbled, construction halted, leaving the city abandoned with only 70 to 80 percent completed. From above, it was a maze of empty streets, rough buildings, abandoned hotels, shopping centers, and amusement parks- all covered in tall weeds and crumbling from neglect. The place looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie. Wyomarlo City was perfect for filming action scenes-and equally suited to real-life military versus terrorist operations.

The mission was not just to neutralize the terrorists; it was about rescuing hostages and, most importantly, keeping Zayn safe.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Zayn stood at the entrance of Wyomarlo City and addressed the surveillance camera above the door. "I'm here. I'll do what you want. Just let the hostages go."

A sinister laugh echoed through the speaker. "Take off your clothes, open the door, and walk in. We'll guide you with walkie-talkies and cameras along the way. Don't try anything funny."

Zayn stared at the camera for a moment before replying, "Alright, but can I keep my shorts and shoes? If I am completely naked, your live stream might get flagged."

Wyomarlo City was a ghost

town-no power, no water, no surveillance. The military had no clue what the terrorists had brought in, but the film crew had tons of gear-walkie-talkies, cameras, lights, and even real explosives,

which worked out for the terrorists.

After a beat, the camera responded. "You can keep the shorts, but no shoes. And you have to undress where we can see you."

Zayn nodded and slowly began taking off his clothes, making sure the camera caught every move.

In the live chat, admiration poured in.

[Wow. This guy from Osceiton has a killer body!]

[Even though I'm not a fan of Osceitonians, it sucks to see a cute guy like him about to get shot.]

[He is indeed superstar material. Just had terrible luck.]

[Osceiton's soldiers really are something. No surprise they never lose to Aeloria-calm and heroic even in the face of death]

If people from Osceiton were watching, they'd be both enraged and heartbroken by the terrorists. But this was on YouTube, and to most viewers around the world, it was just another sick thrill for them.

Harry, dressed as a soldier, frowned as he watched the scene unfold.

He had sent Zayn some high-tech weapons that could be easily hidden and carried. These were supposed to be his backup, but now that the terrorists were pulling this stunt, they were pretty much useless.

Zayn took off his clothes and pants. As he did, he spoke up. "You guys have been chasing me all the way here, so you know I've got two broken ribs. “I need a couple of months to fully recover, but I have only had a month of rest. I can't move much, so there is no need to be so worried about me."

A cold laugh came from the surveillance camera. "Mist, once you're done, raise your hands and spin around. Let me see if you've got anything hidden."

Once Zayn was down to just his black shorts, he raised his hands and started walking barefoot, slowly circling in front of the camera.

"Do you know how I found you, Mist?" The voice in the camera chuckled darkly. "I'm not dead yet, but you really went ahead and filmed that movie. The one everyone loves, 'Boundary Strike-it's popula

overseas, I saw it. NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

"I didn't recognize you at first, but the burn mark on your back made me recognize you. After all, I was the one who slashed you.

"At first, I didn't recognize you, but then I saw the burn mark on your back. That's when I remembered. I gave you that burn, didn't I? I really don't get it. A guy like you, so careful and sly, making a movie for everyone to see."

Back then, the Osceiton special forces had black and green paint smeared on their faces, and they were all covered in dust

and grass from running. Their faces were practically unrecognizable.

That was why it took years for the terrorist to track down the man he knew as Mist.