The memory of that fateful day in Dallas haunted Houston as he recalled the chaotic events from three years ago. He had been on a relentless pursuit of one of his old squad members, driven by a sense of duty and a desire to protect those he cared about.

As he navigated the war-torn streets, Houston couldn't help but glance down at the patch on his uniform, a reminder of his little brother's achievements as a flying ace. It was a symbol of honor and accomplishment, something he had always been proud of.

But the tranquility of that moment was shattered by the screams of boys in distress. Houston immediately turned his attention to the source of the commotion, and his heart sank as he witnessed an M4 Crocodile tank rolling in, its flamethrower turret spewing deadly flames that engulfed some of the Davy Crockett infantry high school boys. The scene was horrifying, and Houston knew he had to intervene.

He ordered his crew to halt their tank, and as it came to a stop, he locked eyes with the commander of the Crocodile Sherman. The hatch opened, revealing a gas-masked boy, the same age as Houston but wearing the uniform of Vermont Academy Tankery. He bore the codename 'Fury' and smiled upon seeing Houston, his former teammate turned traitor.

"It's been a while since we saw each other, Vice Commander," Fury taunted, his voice distorted by the gas mask. "How long has it been since you betrayed us? Hm, a month? Well, that's fine with me. I see you killed Ava, our Lady of Silence. I'm here to show you the flame of our rage that will incinerate you! After you and your brother Red betrayed us..." 

The standoff between Houston's tank and the Crocodile tank commanded by Fury intensified, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Fury's masked face bore a sinister glare, and his voice, distorted by the gas mask, carried a chilling threat.

"Now, Vice Commander, you're going to feel the scorching heat of that horrible blackness of your new dead comrades that I set ablaze," Fury declared, gesturing towards the charred remains of the boys who had tried to flee from his tank's deadly flames.

Houston's heart ached as he listened to Fury's words. He couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss for his former comrades, those who had once fought alongside him. But he also knew that he couldn't let Fury's twisted sense of vengeance go unchecked.

"Paul, listen to me," Houston implored, desperately trying to reach the humanity buried beneath Fury's anger. "You were one of the few people I could always count on in battle. But look at what we were doing. What Red has said, explaining what we shouldn't be doing, he was right! This isn't who we are, Paul!"

Houston's words were sincere, a plea for his old comrade to remember the values and principles they had once shared. He hoped that somewhere within Fury, there was still a glimmer of the person he had once been, someone capable of understanding that they had all been led astray.

Houston's heart ached as he listened to Fury's words. He could sense the conflict and torment within his old comrade, and it pained him to see what this war had done to someone he once considered a friend.

"You're a good man," Houston reiterated, his voice filled with empathy. "Why follow Commander Anderson's orders?"

Fury's response was filled with a heavy sense of resignation and despair. "It's my salvation, Houston... Do you have any idea why the Vermont Academy tankery team is letting me face you? It's because they're afraid of you, ever since you and Red left. Houston, you're a legend in this god-forsaken war game we're in under the Association. They're probably watching us right now to see which one of the Vermont Dogs of War will live after this fight."

Houston couldn't deny the truth in Fury's words. The reputation he had earned as a formidable tank commander had cast a long shadow, one that now threatened to engulf both of them in this deadly confrontation.

Fury continued, his voice filled with anguish. "But can you recall those you've killed in this hellhole war game, Houston?! I do... I have nightmares about them, nearly every night. They won't leave me alone! But we've spilled far too much blood by now to ever make amends.... I'm no longer the friend you knew. My name isn't Paul anymore, Vice Commander. I'm the Fury! My nightmares will end today, after your death!"

Back to the Present 

As the Conqueror tank maneuvered into position, trying to get a clear shot at Houston and Ben, the two of them huddled behind cover, desperately trying to hide from the relentless assault of 'Rage' and 'Fury,' who controlled the tank.

Their cover was their only protection as the tank's cannon fired again, sending a shell hurtling toward their position. In a split-second decision, Houston took swift action. He shoved Ben out of harm's way, his instincts and years of combat experience kicking in.

The tank shell struck their cover, reducing it to rubble in a deafening explosion. The shockwave from the blast sent Ben tumbling backward, his body hitting the ground hard. For a moment, he lay there, dazed and disoriented.

Houston, on the other hand, had managed to keep himself from harm's way, though the force of the explosion had thrown him to the ground as well. He quickly regained his footing and turned to check on Ben.

Seeing that Ben was safe and sheltered behind another piece of cover, Houston knew he had to act swiftly to protect both of them from the relentless assault of the Conqueror tank. The situation had become increasingly perilous, and they needed a plan to turn the tide in their favor.

Houston's radio crackled to life, and he recognized the voice immediately. It was Null, his mysterious friend who had aided him against Crying Wolf in the past. In the midst of this new crisis, Null's guidance was a welcome relief.

"Houston, be careful! You must get out of 'Rage's' sight and stay as far away from the tank," Null warned.

Houston's curiosity piqued as he asked, "Why? What would happen if I get close to him?"

Null's response was stern and filled with concern. "Because that tank has been modified, and the machine gunner now has a flamethrower. You must keep a great distance from it. You've faced this threat before, and I believe that you can beat it again. I left you some packs of grenades nearby. Good luck."

With that, Null's transmission ended, leaving Houston with a clear directive and a sense of urgency. He had to stay out of the Conqueror tank's flamethrower range and find a way to neutralize the threat. The grenades Null had left for him could be a crucial part of their strategy.

Houston began searching the area, looking for the packs of grenades that Null had mentioned. With each step, he was determined to confront this new challenge head-on and ensure the safety of his comrades, including Ben.

Houston found Ben huddled in cover, shaken but seemingly unharmed. He wasted no time in checking on his young comrade to ensure his safety. Once he was satisfied that Ben was okay, Houston took a deep breath and addressed him with a sense of urgency.

"Ben, listen to me carefully," Houston began. "This is too dangerous for you to be here. What I want you to do is find the others and get them here, understand?"

Ben nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and determination. He trusted Houston's judgment implicitly and knew that following his instructions was their best chance of survival.

"I understand, Commander. I'll find the others and bring help," Ben replied with a resolute tone.

Houston nodded in approval. "Good. Stay low, move quickly, and don't engage the enemy. I'll handle this situation. Just get the reinforcements as fast as you can."

With that, Ben slipped away from their hiding spot, moving stealthily to avoid detection. Houston watched him for a moment, ensuring that he was on his way to safety before turning his attention back to the Conqueror tank, determined to confront 'Fury' and 'Rage' and neutralize the threat they posed.

Houston's attempt to throw the grenade into the exposed hatch of the Conqueror tank had been close, but it missed its mark, exploding harmlessly against the tank's rear armor. The explosion, however, alerted 'Fury' inside the tank, and he swiftly turned the tank's machine gun towards Houston.

"Feel the fury of my flame!" 'Fury' yelled out as he unleashed a torrent of fire from the flamethrower, the searing flames licking at the air around Houston.

Houston acted quickly, diving to the side and rolling to avoid the fiery onslaught. The intense heat washed over him, singeing his uniform and causing his heart to race. He knew that he couldn't afford to stay exposed for long; 'Fury' and 'Rage' would seize any opportunity to attack.

As the flames subsided for a moment, Houston spotted another opening, another chance to disable the tank. He reached for another grenade from the pack that Null had left for him, pulled the pin, and hurled it with precision, aiming for the exposed hatch once more. This time, he was determined to make his mark and put an end to the Conqueror tank's threat.

The grenade thrown by Houston into the Conqueror tank's exposed hatch had done little damage, frustrating his efforts to neutralize the enemy threat. The situation escalated further as 'Rage' turned the tank's turret and fired the cannon, unleashing a powerful explosion that sent Houston tumbling through the air like a ragdoll. He landed hard but quickly got to his feet, determined to press on.

As he kept moving, 'Fury' attempted to use the flamethrower turret once more, trying to burn Houston to a crisp. But in a moment of sheer luck and timing, salvation arrived in the form of 'The Lone Star,' Houston's own tank. Grant, the tank's loader, worked swiftly to load another shell into the cannon, while 'Machine,' the machine gunner, laid down suppressing fire, and Scott, the tank's gunner, took aim.

With Tory, the driver, at the wheel, 'The Lone Star' Sherman tank roared into action, positioning itself to shield Houston from the Conqueror tank's fire. Scott fired the cannon, sending a shell hurtling toward their adversary. However, the Conqueror tank managed to evade the attack, causing the shell to ricochet harmlessly.

"Damn! Come on, Grant, load me another round!" Scott called out in frustration.

"You're clear!" Grant responded as he efficiently loaded another shell into the cannon.

Tory expertly maneuvered 'The Lone Star' away from the Conqueror tank as the two tanks engaged in a fierce exchange of firepower. Houston, recognizing the dire straits they were in, decided to take action. He swiftly grabbed a smoke grenade and hurled it in the direction of the Conqueror tank. The smoke grenade burst into a thick cloud, obscuring the enemy's line of sight and disrupting their ability to target accurately.

As the smoke enveloped the battlefield, 'Rage' and 'Fury' inside the Conqueror tank shouted in frustration, their plans disrupted.

Amidst the thick smoke that veiled the battlefield, Houston quickly seized the opportunity to contact his tank crew using his radio. Their sudden appearance had surprised him, but he appreciated the support.

"Guys, what are you doing here?" Houston inquired, concern evident in his voice.

Scott, the tank's gunner, responded with determination, "We're here to help you, Commander. We can't let you face that thing by yourself. It's suicide, even for someone as crazy as you."

Houston couldn't help but crack a slight smile at Scott's words. His tank crew's unwavering loyalty meant the world to him. However, he was determined to face this threat head-on.

"I'll be fine. I can handle them. Just keep laying down suppressing fire as I take out the tank," Houston instructed, his confidence unwavering.

Scott, Grant, and Tory exchanged glances but ultimately complied with their commander's request. They trusted his judgment implicitly.

"Oh yeah? How?" Grant asked, eager to understand their strategy.

Houston, readying his third grenade, didn't provide a direct answer. Instead, he knew he had to act swiftly. He tossed the grenade into the exposed hatch of the Conqueror tank just as the smoke began to dissipate. The grenade landed inside the tank, dangerously close to its ammunition.

Inside the Conqueror tank, one of the crew members noticed the incoming grenade and made a desperate attempt to escape. 'Rage' and 'Fury' also became aware of the impending danger and let out one final shout of alarm.

"Houston!"

The grenade detonated with a powerful explosion, sending shockwaves through the tank's interior. The Conqueror tank was disabled and destroyed, the force of the blast rendering it nothing more than a heap of twisted metal.

The astonishment on the faces of Houston's tank crew was palpable as they witnessed their commander singlehandedly disable and destroy the Conqueror tank with just a well-placed grenade. It was a feat that defied expectations and left them in awe of his skill and resourcefulness.

As Houston turned to walk away from the scene of the battle, he was suddenly jolted by the sight of a figure emerging from the hatch of the destroyed Conqueror tank. It was 'Fury,' and he was wreathed in flames that seemed to dance across his suit. With deliberate care, 'Fury' extinguished the flames that had engulfed him, leaving him unharmed but emitting an air of menace.

"Ah... Yes... That felt good... Feeling the flame of my fury..." 'Fury' declared, his voice tinged with a disturbing sense of satisfaction.

Houston couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen 'Fury' and 'Rage' operating the Conqueror tank moments ago, and the tank's destruction should have been their end. It was perplexing and disconcerting to see 'Fury' alive and seemingly unscathed.

"How the hell are you still alive?" Houston demanded, his surprise and frustration evident. He couldn't comprehend how his adversary had survived the destruction of their tank and what 'Fury' had planned next. The battle was far from over, and the enigmatic enemy remained a dangerous and unpredictable force. 

As the standoff between Houston and 'Fury' continued, their exchange took a chilling turn. 'Fury' removed his mask, revealing his disfigured face, marked by the scars and wounds sustained in their fateful battle in Dallas. The scars were a grim reminder of the violence and destruction that had taken place there.

"Paul... You're alive?!" Houston exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise and disbelief.

"My real name... Haven't heard that since you called me that three years ago..." 'Fury' replied, his tone carrying a hint of bitterness.

The revelation of 'Fury's' true identity sent shockwaves through the onlookers, as many recognized him as one of the Vermont's old squad, the Dogs of War. Their expressions ranged from astonishment to confusion, and the Majors Commanders from different schools were left puzzled by the unexpected turn of events.

"I see you've made new friends, Vice Commander," 'Fury' continued, his words dripping with sarcasm. "But do they know what you did in Dallas? I know you enjoyed all the killing you did back then."

Houston's gaze fell to the ground, his memories of the Dallas Incident weighing heavily on him. The events of that time had left a deep mark on his soul, and the guilt and remorse were never far from his thoughts.

"But I think we're just about done talking," 'Fury' declared, his anger and resentment palpable. "Now you will feel my true Fury and Rage, the same emotions you left me to die with."

With his mask back on and an M16A1 with a grenade launcher in hand, 'Fury' pointed the weapon at Houston, the tension in the air reaching its peak. The situation had escalated to a perilous level, and Houston's new allies and old comrades watched in apprehension, uncertain of what would happen next..

The tension in the air reached its breaking point as 'Fury' aimed his weapon squarely at Houston. The onlookers, including Houston's allies and old comrades, watched in stunned silence as the standoff between the two adversaries escalated into a potentially deadly confrontation.

Without further warning, 'Fury' pulled the trigger of his M16A1, launching a grenade from the attached launcher directly toward Houston. The grenade hurtled through the air, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake as it closed the distance between the two combatants.

Houston's instincts kicked in as he dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the explosive projectile. The grenade detonated with a deafening explosion, sending a shockwave through the area and scattering debris in all directions. The force of the blast left a smoking crater where Houston had been standing just moments before.

As the dust and smoke cleared, Houston emerged from the aftermath, his determination unwavering. He knew that he couldn't afford to let 'Fury' gain the upper hand. Pulling his own sidearm from its holster, he aimed it squarely at his adversary and opened fire.

The rapid gunfire echoed through the air as Houston and 'Fury' engaged in a deadly dance of bullets and strategy. Both combatants sought to gain the advantage, their movements calculated and precise. 'Fury' deftly evaded Houston's shots, using the terrain for cover, while returning fire with pinpoint accuracy.

With their firearms momentarily spent, Houston and 'Fury' found themselves locked in a fierce hand-to-hand struggle. The two skilled combatants, both veterans of the Dogs of War, fought with a fluidity and precision that spoke to their years of training and experience.

Their fists clashed, and they grappled, each attempting to gain the upper hand. Their movements were lightning-fast, and their reactions honed to perfection. The struggle was intense, a testament to the rivalry that had simmered between them since their days in Dallas.

Houston and 'Fury' exchanged blows and strikes, neither giving an inch. They were evenly matched, and the fight seemed to hang in the balance. Every move was calculated, every maneuver executed with the intent to disable or incapacitate their opponent.

The battle between Houston and 'Fury' continued with a relentless intensity. Their fists flew through the air, striking with precision and force. Each move was executed with skill and precision, a testament to their years of training and combat experience.

Despite their equal skill, the fight was taking a toll on both combatants. They were battered and bruised, their stamina slowly wearing down. But the determination to overcome their opponent fueled their every move.

Houston knew that he couldn't let 'Fury' gain the upper hand. He ducked under a powerful swing, countering with a swift jab to 'Fury's' ribs. 'Fury' grunted in pain but retaliated with a well-placed kick that sent Houston stumbling backward.

As they continued to exchange blows, memories of their past encounters in Dallas flashed through Houston's mind. The Dallas Incident had left scars, not just physically but emotionally as well. The rivalry and bitterness that had once defined their relationship were still evident in their every move.

But Houston had changed since those days. He had found a new purpose, new comrades, and new values. As he fought 'Fury' once more, he was determined to put an end to this cycle of violence and hatred.

With renewed resolve, Houston summoned his remaining strength and launched a powerful attack. 'Fury' defended himself with equal ferocity, but Houston's determination and newfound purpose gave him an edge. A well-placed strike left 'Fury' disarmed and vulnerable.

The battle reached its climax as Houston stood over 'Fury,' his fists raised, but he hesitated. He had the power to end this conflict, but he didn't want to continue the cycle of violence. Instead, he extended a hand to 'Fury,' offering a chance for reconciliation.

"Paul, it doesn't have to be like this. We can leave the past behind," Houston said, his voice filled with earnestness.

"....You're... amazing... Don... Now I can see why everyone was afraid during the Dallas match when we were allies once and now enemies," Paul admitted, a sense of resignation in his voice. "Now I'll never have to take another life... Remember when I was trying to get my salvation... Well, I get it now... Remember this, Don... The reason why I followed Anderson was because he promised redemption... But us child soldiers like us won't find redemption in the good of a nation or the hatred of an enemy. People need a hero... They need a man for whom they can gladly risk their lives..."

Paul reached out, grabbing Houston's arm and pulling him closer. He looked into Houston's eyes with a mixture of sadness and understanding.

"Can you bear the burden of knowing that you hold your men's lives in your hands, Don? If not, you can't beat Anderson again like you did in Dallas..."

As Paul spoke, there was a noticeable change in his demeanor, and his heart rate slowed. His words seemed to carry a sense of finality and acceptance.

"Farewell... My old friend... I'll tell my apologies to Red, your little brother... on the other side..." Paul said, his voice fading.

"Paul! No!" Houston cried out, but it was too late. Paul's grip loosened, and he collapsed, lifeless. The battle had come to an unexpected and poignant conclusion, leaving Houston to grapple with a complex mix of emotions and memories.

With 'Fury' now lifeless in his arms, Houston stood up, his expression solemn and resolute. He knew that despite their complex history and the enmity that had grown between them, Paul had once been a comrade, and now it was his duty to give him a proper farewell.

Calling to the night.

For us, For every single life

All the ashes of men remains as a perfect memory

Calling to the night.

As some want to follow Houston they were stop as Muller, Graham and Houston Vice Commander Jefferson stopped them saying that Houston needs to be alone for now. 

Meanwhile in the City Okata

Commander Chiaki, still simmering with frustration over her recent setbacks and the humiliation she had endured, found herself face to face with Commander Anderson in the war room of the Federation's base in Okata. The unexpected presence of two masked individuals, one in a uniform resembling Vermont's Vice Commander and another in a Vermont lieutenant's uniform, added an air of intrigue to the situation.

Anderson, with his mask removed to reveal his face, approached Chiaki with a calm and measured demeanor. He acknowledged their shared interests and what they both desired.

"Chiaki, it's finally good to meet you. I apologize for the intrusion, but I believe we have a common goal," Anderson began, his tone carrying a hint of diplomacy as he circled around Chiaki.

Chiaki, ever defiant, retorted, "What is it? Do you think you know what I want, you American Yankee?"

Anderson continued, undeterred, "You want the girls who betrayed you, particularly Marshal Commander Maho Nishizumi. And I know you also want Marshal Commander Houston. Our goals align in this regard. I've come here with a proposal. We can help each other. I'll assist you in achieving your objectives, and in return, you help me. Do we have a deal?"

Chiaki, known for her fierce determination and desire for victory, was not one to easily trust her adversaries. However, the prospect of gaining an upper hand in her pursuit of Maho Nishizumi and Marshal Commander Houston was a tempting one.

After a moment of contemplation, Chiaki responded, her voice measured but with a hint of caution, "Your proposal is intriguing, Commander Anderson. But trust between rivals is not easily earned. What assurances can you offer that you will hold up your end of the bargain?"

Commander Anderson, well aware of the skepticism he faced, nodded thoughtfully. "I understand your concerns, Chiaki. Trust is a rare commodity in our world. I can provide you with information that will help you track down those you seek. As for Marshal Commander Houston, my associates here," he gestured toward the masked individuals in the room, "have information that could be of great value to you."

The masked figures, shrouded in secrecy, remained silent but gave subtle nods of confirmation.

Chiaki continued to weigh her options. The allure of finally achieving her goals, of capturing Maho Nishizumi and Marshal Commander Houston, was a powerful motivator. But the risks of aligning with Anderson and his enigmatic associates were equally apparent.

"I will consider your proposal," Chiaki finally conceded, her gaze unwavering. "But understand this, Commander Anderson, if I detect any deception or betrayal on your part, there will be consequences."

Anderson offered a small, knowing smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Let's work together to achieve our common goals, Commander Chiaki."