In California, after the welcoming presentation from the American Tankery League President and meeting the officials, Kay, Darjeeling, Maho, Miho, and Katyusha were enjoying piggyback rides from Nonna.

"I wonder why Houston left in a hurry?" Kay asked.

"Well, it must be important since a stack of papers was handed to him during the welcome ceremony," Miho said.

"Well, whatever it is, it made him mad and shocked," Darjeeling said, maintaining her calm appearance.

"Hm, it's probably something that Red did," Katyusha said.

"I highly doubt that Red would do anything like that," Kay said.

As the girls continued walking, Maho, who hadn't said anything, was deep in thought, reflecting on Houston's reaction since their time on the island of Oshima. Still pondering, she turned towards the radio room, where Commander Muller and Commander Graham were with their boys.

"Skies are clear in the North High School area, Commander Muller," one of the radios reported, prompting a sigh from Muller as he monitored his school.

"Zulu X-Ray 6, check for any signs of activity in our sector in Grand Lake High," Graham instructed through the radio.

"Negative, sir. The scope is clear," another radio operator responded.

"Copy that," Graham acknowledged.

Deep in thought, Maho trailed off from the group as they walked, her mind still preoccupied with Houston's reactions since their time on the island of Oshima. Lost in contemplation, she found herself drawn to the radio room, where Commander Muller and Commander Graham were monitoring their respective schools.

As she entered the room, she observed Muller and Graham attentively checking their schools through the array of monitors and communication devices. The atmosphere was serious, contrasting the carefree mood outside.

"Oh, hey Maho, how are you doing?" Graham greeted.

"Doing fine... Hey, did you two notice Houston's reaction during the ceremony? He seemed kind of off," Maho remarked.

Muller exchanged glances with Graham as he spoke up, "Well, yes, he did seem shocked and angry after getting his report. It must have been something bad at his school, so he left in a hurry," Muller explained.

"I see..." Maho said, staying quiet for a few moments. She then looked at the radio comms that Graham and Muller were using to contact their schools. Seeing this, Maho then asked the two a question.

"Do you guys have the capability to establish a connection to Davy Crockett High School?" Maho inquired.

"Yeah, we can. Hold on, let me just tune into the right frequencies," Graham said as he began adjusting the signal on the radio.

As Graham adjusted the radio frequencies, the door to the radio room creaked open, and Kay, Darjeeling, Miho, and Katyusha entered. They noticed Maho standing there, deep in conversation with Graham and Muller.

"Hey, Maho, what's going on?" Miho inquired.

Maho turned to face the others, and before she could respond, Kay chimed in with a flirtatious smile directed at Graham, "Well, well, if it isn't the charming Commander Graham. We couldn't help but follow the trail of your irresistible voice. What's the latest gossip in the world of radio frequencies?"

Graham, accustomed to Kay's playful banter, grinned and replied in a similar tone, "Ah, Kay, my dear, you know the airwaves are always buzzing with excitement. We were just about to establish a connection to Davy Crockett High School, courtesy of Maho's request."

Katyusha rolled her eyes at the exchange, while Darjeeling observed with a faint smirk. Miho, on the other hand, seemed more worried for her big sister seeing her asking for Houston.

"Well, if we're tuning in, count us in too," Kay continued with a playful wink. "Maybe we can catch some juicy secrets from the other schools."

Graham chuckled, "Oh, you know me, Kay, always up for a bit of intrigue. Let's see what the airwaves have in store for us today."

As the group gathered around the radio equipment, the banter continued, blending seamlessly with the serious task of establishing communication with Davy Crockett High School.

As they tuned in, expecting a normal greeting from one of the radio operators at Davy Crockett High School, they were instead met with panicked voices on the radios, with the boys calling out distressing messages.

"They're everywhere!"

"Our sector is about to be overrun!"

"We lost contact with Annapolis! Where's the air support?"

"We barely have any tanks left!"

"Enemy troops have infiltrated our positions! We are cut off, I repeat, we are cut off!"

"They're coming in with a couple of platoons of ARL 44 tanks! Request Broken Arrow! I repeat, Broken Arrow!"

The gravity of the situation hit the room, and the playful banter from earlier fell silent. The commanders exchanged concerned glances, realizing that something dire was unfolding at Davy Crockett High School. The urgent calls for support and reports of enemy forces painted a grim picture over the radio waves.

Before anyone could respond to the radio, they lost the signal. Not liking the state of uncertainty and anxious to know more about what was happening, Graham tried to reestablish the connection. However, his efforts were interrupted when his Vice Commander, Joey, came running into the room, a look of shock and panic on his face.

"Hey, you guys need to see this!" Joey shouted urgently.

Worried about the alarming tone in Joey's voice, the commanders quickly followed him to where he was headed. They arrived at a large screen broadcasting a live news cast that had captured everyone's attention. The news crew, clad in body armor and helmets, reported from the city of Houston, Texas, where Davy Crockett High School, an S Rank High School, had come under attack.

"This is ABC News, reporting live from Houston, Texas, where the S Rank High School, Davy Crockett High, is under siege. The first wave of the attack, led by Lake Travis High, involved a devastating air assault that crippled the school's defenses. The second wave, currently underway, is being spearheaded by Groton High School, with confirmation that the American Tankery League Emperor Timothee is leading the forces in this dreadful attack.

As you can see, multiple Rangers are descending upon the school, and airborne units are engaging on the front lines with minimal tank support. Their primary objective is to evacuate students who are not part of the Tankery or infantry teams from this warzone," the reporter conveyed, his voice reflecting the shock and horror of the unfolding events. The footage on the screen showed a chaotic and intense battle scene, emphasizing the severity of the situation and the urgent need for a coordinated response.

Meanwhile, the ground shook as a high schooler Ranger regained consciousness in an underground operation bunker. Rubble littered the floor, and water dripped from above as he gripped his Colt M16A2 airsoft rifle, ready for action. Exiting the room where he had been resting, he entered the battle plan room, where Rangers and Airborne boys were hard at work on communications, explosions continuing to shake the area.

Moving through the chaos, he stumbled upon the medical room, witnessing the aftermath of the explosions. Injured comrades were being tended to by medics, and another Ranger struggled with a buddy on his shoulder, calling for assistance.

"I got you, buddy. It's okay; I got you... I need help over here!" the Ranger called out.

Undeterred, the observing Ranger pressed on until he found Sean, Gus, and Hector resting on the floor. Ben, the Ranger combat medic, tossed an extra Colt M16A2 airsoft rifle to Hector, who caught it skillfully. Ben spoke up, urging them back into action.

"Hey, on your feet. We're oscar mike," Ben declared, the urgency in his voice cutting through the chaotic atmosphere. The group quickly gathered themselves, ready to rejoin the fight above ground.

"Roger, Two-One out... Listen up. This evac is getting hit hard, and we need to buy them some time. Hooah?" Dean, the squad leader, commanded.

"Hooah!" The squad shouted in unison as they swiftly exited the underground bunker, rushing into the trench. The radio crackled alive as Commander Houston's voice sounded through.

"All Callsigns, the LZ is under heavy fire. Uncover enemy positions and engage potential targets," Houston instructed over the radio.

"They've got optics on us... snipers and RPG teams, heavy fire at twelve o'clock due west of our position," Gus reported over the radio as they emerged from the bunker.

Exiting the bunker, the scene unfolded with the remnants of P-51 planes soaring overhead. Rangers and Airborne infantry boys sprinted through the trenches, with the sky obscured by black smoke and fires raging. Meanwhile, a CH-46 helicopter from Davy Crockett attempted to load students for evacuation.

As Dean's squad advanced, he glanced to his right and saw a Pershing Tank providing cover fire. The machine gunner unleashed rounds toward the study hall building of Davy Crockett, loading in a shell and firing smoke rounds.

Navigating the trench for cover, Dean grabbed his radio and spoke amid the echoes of explosions and airsoft gunfire.

"Commander Houston, this is Ranger 2-1 requesting an airstrike, over!"

"Negative, Dean. All available air units are currently tasked with multiple case evacuations. Proceed west to the target building and provide support, out," Houston replied over the radio.

Dean's squad moved forward through the smoke-filled trench, the acrid scent of burning debris and the sounds of distant explosions creating an atmosphere of chaos. The Rangers and Airborne infantry boys pressed on, faces streaked with dirt and determination, their airsoft rifles at the ready.

As they approached the target building, the study hall structure loomed ahead, scarred by the effects of the ongoing battle. The Pershing Tank continued its methodical cover fire, each round shaking the ground beneath them. Sniper rounds whizzed through the air, prompting the squad to take cover whenever possible. The crackle of machine guns and sporadic bursts of airsoft gunfire filled the tense silence between radio transmissions.

Dean, realizing the gravity of their situation, keyed his radio once again, "Commander Houston, we're in the thick of it. Requesting updated intel and fire support."

The response came swiftly, "Ranger 2-1, intel suggests enemy forces are dug in deep. Air support is unavailable at the moment. You're on your own until further notice. Good luck, out."

The weight of those words settled in as the squad pushed forward, navigating through the trench with precision. The airsoft bullets whizzed past them, creating an unsettling symphony of danger. The once-clear sky now bore the scars of smoke and flames, punctuated by the distant wail of sirens.

Gus, spotting an enemy RPG team, called out, "Tango at three o'clock, RPG team. Take cover!"

The squad dove for cover as the RPG exploded nearby, showering them with dirt and debris. The Pershing Tank continued its barrage, attempting to suppress enemy positions. The squad, now pressed against the trench walls, exchanged glances that spoke volumes. The reality of the situation set in — they were in the heart of a desperate battle for their school.

Amidst the chaos, Hector, with grim determination, suggested, "We need to clear those RPG positions. Sean, Gus, cover us. We're moving in."

The trio moved with calculated precision, navigating the uneven terrain of the trench. The air was thick with tension as they closed in on the enemy RPG team. The distant echoes of the ongoing evacuation efforts and the intermittent roar of gunfire painted a stark picture of the relentless struggle for control.

As they neared the RPG team's position, Dean signaled for the squad to regroup. He grabbed his radio once more, "Commander Houston, this is Ranger 2-1. Clearing RPG positions, over."

Static filled the air before Houston's voice crackled back, "Copy, Ranger 2-1. Proceed cautiously. Reinforcements are on the way. Good luck, out."

The squad, acknowledging the message, continued their advance with heightened awareness, each step echoing the harsh reality of a battle fought not in the realm of bullets and blood, but in the vivid imagination of determined students defending their beloved school.

The crow's nest, previously occupied by the RPG team, now lay silent as Dean and his squad swiftly eliminated the threat. The echoes of airsoft gunfire and distant explosions reverberated through the air. As they secured the position, a voice crackled over the radio, urgency cutting through the chaos.

"This is Mystic Two-One! Vice Commander Jefferson just gave the order to abandon all evac sites on the east side! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THERE!" the panicked Ranger shouted.

Dean, processing the gravity of the situation, swiftly radioed in, "Houston... We took out and secured the enemy nest on the south corner."

"Copy that. The Evac site at the Davy Crockett statue reports several transports away, but they are still vulnerable. Can you provide support from your positions, over?" Houston requested.

"Roger that! We're sittin' on a stockpile of enemy munitions. We'll dig in and burn through their ammo, out!" Dean replied, determination evident in his voice.

The squad, now aware of the urgency, fortified their position in the crow's nest. Airsoft rifles at the ready, they scanned the horizon for any signs of approaching enemy forces. The evac site at the Davy Crockett statue remained a critical focal point, and Dean's squad prepared to provide the support needed to ensure its safety.

As the seconds ticked by, the tension in the air was palpable. The distant sounds of battle continued, a symphony of chaos and determination. Dean and his squad remained vigilant, their eyes on the horizon, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them in the heart of the intense and realistic airsoft warfare.

The situation intensified as Dean's squad, perched in the crow's nest, received urgent distress signals from the evac site near the Davy Crockett statue. The radio crackled with a desperate plea.

"We're taking heavy fire at the Davy Crockett statue! We're down to 80 percent combat effectiveness! Request immediate RPG fire on target west of the statue, over!" the evac site radioed.

Dean wasted no time in responding, his voice cutting through the chaos, "Copy that... Ramierz, grab that RPG and disable as many ARL 44 tanks as you can!"

The young Ranger, Ramierz, swiftly seized the RPG, shouldering the responsibility. With determined precision, he aimed and fired at the approaching ARL 44 tanks, attempting to create a barrier between the evac helicopters and the relentless enemy assault.

As Ramierz engaged the enemy armor, the Groton High School tanks relentlessly fired at the evac site, attempting to cripple the evacuation efforts. Dean's squad, undeterred, coordinated with the remaining Sherman's and Pershing Tanks, returning fire to protect the evac helicopters.

Amidst the firefight, Houston's voice crackled over the radio, delivering crucial information, "Dean, be advised, you've got multiple foot mobiles heading to your position... stay frosty."

"We got hostiles in the perimeter! Open fire! Open fire!" Sean shouted, the squad swiftly adjusting their focus to the approaching enemy infantry. The airsoft rifles roared to life as the squad laid down suppressing fire, attempting to thwart the advance of the Groton High School infantry.

"Dean, I recommend you clear outta there... I see a mass of foot mobiles converging on your position!" Houston urgently shouted over the radio.

"Negative! Negative! We got enemy armors out there still advancing on the evac site!" Dean responded resolutely as the squad quickly grabbed any available RPGs and fired at the ARL 44 tanks, disabling as many as they could. Houston's voice broke through again.

"Dean, you bought the evac site valuable time! Well done! Now get your ass to the rooftop ASAP; you are in danger of being overrun!" Houston's voice commanded.

"Copy! We're heading to the rooftop! Everyone, move out!" Dean shouted.

The squad moved quickly through the building, their pursuit growing as more enemies chased after them, attempting to thwart their progress. As they ascended to the rooftop, radio transmissions of their fellow Rangers and boys echoed in the background, portraying the intensity and chaos of the ongoing battle.

Finally reaching the rooftop, they found a UH-60 Blackhawk waiting for them, the pilot checking in.

"Sergeant Dean, this is Dagger Two-One. We are in position at the LZ on the rooftop. What's your status, over?" the pilot inquired.

"We're on our way! Hostiles following close behind!" Dean shouted. The squad hastily boarded the helicopter, and as they lifted off, the French American forces continued firing at them from below.

As they soared away from the building, Dean radioed Houston, "Houston, we are in our transport and heading out. Has the Davy Crockett statue site been evacuated, over?" The urgency in Dean's voice mirrored the gravity of the situation, their successful evacuation contrasting the ongoing chaos on the ground.

"Negative, Dean, they're still pinned down there by infantry and light armor from the 'Dallas Incident' Memorial. Doesn't look good from here, over!" Houston's voice conveyed the grim reality of the situation.

"Copy. We'll do what we can from the air, out!" Dean acknowledged, a sense of determination underlying his words.

"First wave of students and staff transport is away. Revear Two, proceed with the second stage of evacuation. Litter urgent personnel only," Houston directed another squad, shifting focus to alternate evacuation plans.

As Dagger Two-One flew past the Dallas Incident memorial, the ground below erupted with RPG teams firing at the helicopter. Rameriz manned the .50 cal machine gun, returning fire and neutralizing the immediate threat.

Amidst the chaos, panicked voices filled the airwaves:

"This is Atlas Two-Five at LZ one, engines are at thirty percent! I can't carry any more people! We're gonna have to leave some of them behind!"

"Commander Houston to all units! Evacuation order April! I repeat, evacuation order April. Everyone get the hell outta here-" Houston's transmission was abruptly cut off as his helicopter was hit, crashing to the ground.

"LONE STAR IS DOWN! I SAY AGAIN, LONE STAR IS DOWN!" echoed a frantic voice over the radio, signaling the severity of the situation.

The airsoft warfare intensified as the evacuation efforts faced increasing challenges. Dagger Two-One, still airborne, continued providing cover fire, but the reality of leaving some behind weighed heavily on everyone involved. The chaotic battleground below unfolded as a testament to the resilience and sacrifice of those defending Davy Crockett High School in the face of relentless adversity.

"Commander Houston, do you copy? Commander Houston!" Dean shouted into the radio, attempting to establish contact with Houston. Static was all that greeted him, leaving a palpable sense of concern. About to order the pilot to head towards Houston's crash site, Dean radioed in with determination.

"This is Dean. We are going to recover Commander Houston over," he declared.

"Negative! You heard my older brother's order. We have to get the hell out of here!" Red, Houston's younger brother, insisted.

"Captain Red, we have to—" Dean began before being interrupted by Red.

"You heard what Commander Houston said. We have to get the hell out of here!" Red reiterated.

As the pilot maneuvered the helicopter to evade RPG fire, they faced a direct hit that shook the aircraft. Alarms blared, signaling the severity of the damage. Despite the dire situation, Dean remained focused, radioing in crucial information.

"Red! We're hit but still in the air! We've got a massive RPG battery at the English Building. We're going in!" Dean shouted.

Rameriz unleashed a barrage of airsoft fire, targeting the RPG team within the English Building and effectively neutralizing the threat. However, the helicopter's struggle for control became increasingly evident as the pilot fought to maintain altitude.

"We're losing attitude control!" the Dagger Two-One pilot informed.

"Take us up! If we're going down, we're taking those bastards with us!" Dean commanded with a steely resolve. The helicopter, teetering on the edge of stability, pressed forward toward the RPG battery at the English Building, the outcome uncertain as the airsoft warfare raged on.

As the helicopter ascended towards the RPG battery at the English Building, Rameriz continued to unleash a relentless stream of airsoft fire, determined to clear the threat. The RPG team, now aware of the approaching helicopter, intensified their assault, firing round after round.

"We're taking heavy fire! We can't hold much longer!" the pilot shouted, the urgency evident in his voice.

Dean, undeterred, responded, "Rameriz, keep firing! We're almost there!"

The helicopter closed in on the English Building, the RPG team still entrenched and firing. Rameriz's accurate fire managed to eliminate several RPG operators, but the airsoft projectiles continued to rain down around them.

Just as it seemed the helicopter would reach its target, a particularly well-aimed RPG hit its mark. The impact reverberated through the aircraft, sending tremors that resonated with the turbulent situation below. Warning lights flashed, and the alarms became more insistent.

"We're hit again! Losing control!" the pilot exclaimed.

As they spiraled out of control, Rameriz almost fell out of the helicopter. Luckily, Sean quickly grabbed him, and Hector, Gus, Ben, and Dean held tight in their seats as they crashed near the English Building.

Everything went black, and the scene shifted to the present. Rameriz slowly woke up inside the crashed Black Hawk helicopter, opening his eyes to see Dean, Sean, Hector, Gus, and Ben taking cover and defending their positions.

Slowly getting up, Rameriz noticed cuts and injuries on his hands. Hector spotted him and quickly handed Rameriz the Colt M16A2 airsoft rifle from the ground.

"Take this and stay down!" Hector shouted until he was hit in the back, pretending to be killed. Sean saw this and shouted in panic, "Hector!"

"HOLD THE LINE!" Dean commanded, as the squad rallied to defend their position amidst the chaos of the crashed helicopter and the relentless assault from the Groton High School forces.

As the French American boys continued to advance towards the pinned-down Rangers, the defenders, running low on airsoft ammunition, fought valiantly from the wreckage of the crashed helicopter. Dean, realizing the dwindling supplies, took action.

"Ramierz! Last mag, make it count!" Dean shouted, tossing the final magazine to Ramierz.

Ramierz caught the magazine and began firing his airsoft weapon, the remaining Rangers holding their ground and exchanging fire with the approaching Groton High School adversaries.

"There are too many of them!" Ben shouted as he fired his shots.

"Last mag!" Gus declared as he quickly reloaded his final magazine.

"I have three pellets left in mine—" Before Sean could finish his sentence, he was hit in the shoulder. Gus swiftly dragged him to cover, and Ben checked on his injured comrade.

"Defend this position! We are not losing this ground!" Dean commanded, determination in his voice. The Rangers held their positions amidst the wreckage, continuing to exchange airsoft fire with the advancing French American forces.

Just then, a helicopter appeared above, flying over the enemy and shining a light down at the Ranger's positions. 

In the aftermath of the crash, Houston and Jefferson emerged from the wreckage, finding themselves covered in dirt but thankfully free from serious injuries. The echoes of the ongoing battle surrounded them as they took stock of their situation.

"You're still in one piece, Jefferson. Come on, get up," Houston said, offering a hand to his fellow commander. Together, they moved away from the crash site, their focus on regrouping with their team amidst the chaotic airsoft warfare.

Curious about the fate of the helicopter's crew, Jefferson inquired, "Hey, Houston, what happened to the pilots and the crew members on the helicopter?"

"They were too injured to move, so I found one of our Humvees in one piece and gave it to them. I ordered the ones who weren't badly hurt to head out of here," Houston explained.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Jefferson nodded in acknowledgment. "I see... Well, where do we go from here?" he asked, seeking guidance from Houston.

"We have to find my little brother and our new lieutenant, Shadow. She's out there somewhere, so let's go. I trust Dean and our guys can handle themselves," Houston declared with determination, emphasizing the importance of regrouping and supporting their team in the midst of the intense airsoft battle for Davy Crockett High School. The two commanders set out, navigating the war-torn landscape with the goal of finding their comrades and contributing to the defense of their beloved school.

While moving, they noticed the courtyard of their school was empty, with no one in sight. Houston and Jefferson stood in the middle of the courtyard, scanning their surroundings in the hope of spotting someone. However, there was an eerie silence until a voice broke through, using a code sign.

"Flash..." The voice spoke out.

Houston recognized the code and responded, "Thunder."

In the shadows, Red emerged, his pilot uniform dirty and torn from the intense fighting on the ground. As Houston saw his younger brother, the two walked toward each other and shared a brief hug, relieved to see each other unharmed.

"Good to see you, Baby Brother," Houston said, patting Red's shoulder, which elicited a chuckle and a smirk from Red.

"Yeah, it is, Big Bro," Red replied.

"Good to see you're in one piece, Red," Jefferson added.

"Same to you," Red replied, shaking Jefferson's hand. Houston then inquired about Shadow.

"Have you seen Shadow?" Houston asked.

"Yeah, we were about to head to our command room, still at the practice field, and collect every important intel we have," Red replied.

"Smart thinking. I knew it was the right choice to make you Captain. Come on, we have to get to our intel before the enemy does," Houston said.

The three made their way through the disabled tanks, remnants of the first wave air attack by Lake Travis High School. The sky was dark with smoke, small fires burning in the distance. As they approached the command center building, they proceeded carefully. Upon entering, they found Shadow on her knees.

"Shadow," Red spoke up, startling her. She turned, revealing half of the mask covering her face and her real light green eyes.

"Commander? Vice Commander? Red... Guys, we should get out of here. It's not safe," Shadow said in a scared tone.

"What do you mean, not safe? Shadow, our school is not safe with the battle happening outside, and our guys trying to hold their line," Jefferson stated.

"Yes, I know about that, Vice Commander. Look, listen... We are in terrible danger," Shadow said, her words hanging in the air. Suddenly, a noise emanated from one of the rooms in front of them. Houston and Red swiftly drew their Airsoft M1911 pistols, taking aim. Houston turned to Shadow.

"What was that?" he asked.

"It's them," Shadow whispered.

"You're with us," Houston declared as he helped Shadow to her feet. The group cautiously entered the dark room where they had heard the noise. With pistols raised and senses heightened, they scanned the room, ready for any sign of danger.

Suddenly, in the dim light, someone reached out and grabbed Red in a chokehold. Shadow, Jefferson, and Houston swiftly turned their attention to Red, witnessing him being lifted off his feet and then thrown aside. Two more assailants appeared, attacking Jefferson and Shadow. Despite their attempts to fight back, the attackers moved too quickly, and both Jefferson and Shadow were quickly subdued.

Meanwhile, someone attempted to engage Houston, but he proved too agile, evading the incoming hits. He retaliated by firing his pistol and executing a shoulder toss, throwing one of the assailants away.

However, more adversaries closed in on Houston, overwhelming him with their sheer numbers. Red, witnessing his older brother holding his ground alone, struggled to get up and reach for his weapon. But before he could recover, he was disarmed with a punch to the guts, followed by two brutal blows to the head, leaving him incapacitated and kicked aside.

The situation escalated as Houston found himself outnumbered, facing the mysterious assailants in the darkness. The air was thick with tension, and the struggle for control within the confines of their own school intensified.

"Red!" Houston shouted for his younger brother. Despite taking hits, Houston retaliated by grabbing one of the assailants and hurling them toward their comrades. Swiftly reloading his airsoft pistol, he fired several shots before someone smacked the weapon away, leaving Houston vulnerable to their attacks.

Suddenly, a strong grip closed around Houston's shoulder, slowly tightening and applying intense pressure. Houston winced in pain as the pressure increased, his teeth clenched. The assailant broke Houston's right shoulder and arm with brutal force, causing Houston to let out a scream of agony.

In the midst of the chaotic struggle, the darkness of the room shrouded the identity of their attackers. The echoes of airsoft gunfire outside seemed distant, emphasizing the brutal reality unfolding within the confines of their own school. The situation grew direr, and Houston's incapacitation further tilted the odds against the defenders.

Falling to his knees and clutching his right side, Houston grimaced in pain. Unable to move his right arm, he looked up with widened eyes as he heard a voice that he thought he would never hear again.

"Hm... It's great to see the former Vice Commander of Vermont Tankery Academy still breathing, am I right, 'Spector of Death'?" said a deep male French voice in English.

Houston's gaze shifted, and he realized that he wasn't the only one facing this unexpected reunion. Another voice, this time female, continued, "Well, he's not the only one alone. Look, his younger brother is here with him... Hm... The Red Ace and Spector of Death, two former Dogs of War from Vermont Tankery Academy, still live after the 'Dallas incident.'"

As the tense atmosphere lingered in the dark room, three more voices with distinct French accents spoke up, revealing the presence of additional figures. Two females and one male joined the eerie chorus, their voices carrying an air of authority.

"Hm... Look who's here, Le Spectre de la Mort and the Red Ace, both remnants of the past," a male voice remarked.

Two female voices followed, their tones carrying a mix of scorn and disdain, "And here's the traitor, the one who abandoned her old squad. Shadow, you've got some nerve showing your face."

The spotlight seemed to shift to Shadow as accusations were hurled at her. The revelation of these French-accented individuals hinted at a shared history with the former members of Groton High School.

Shadow's question hung in the air as she confronted her former comrades, seeking an explanation for their betrayal. The male figure who had walked up to her began to justify their actions.

"Because this school you joined has no right to be in the S Rank status. And being friends with those Federation who tried to disband our sport. Besides, we don't want this school to compete in the Winter Tournament, so they won't face any of those Japanese schools that are here," he explained.

Another female voice chimed in, adding, "And, of course, it's from our Emperor's order. He will be glad that we took out Commander Houston, the so-called 'Dallas Incident and Oshima Island incident Hero,' and won't be able to stop what we have planned."

Shadow, overwhelmed by the weight of their betrayal and the dark motives behind their actions, looked down, her emotions too intense to bear. Amidst the revelation, Houston, on his knees, began to laugh, seemingly unfazed by their threats.

"God... I've been hearing that so many times that I don't know how long. But your plan won't work," Houston declared, attempting to rise from his knees.

However, his defiance was met with swift violence. He was punched down to the ground, the assailant continuing to deliver blows. Another voice in the group spoke up, expressing their confidence.

"You really think you can beat us? Well, this time you won't!" the male voice declared, landing punch after punch on Houston's face. Red, still recovering from his own injuries, witnessed the brutal assault on his older brother. Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached out, helpless in the face of the relentless attack.

Houston, despite the beating, continued to taunt his aggressor, reminding them of their previous encounters in Vermont three years ago. His words seemed to cut deep, hinting at a history fraught with violence and personal loss. The room resonated with the echoes of Houston's defiance, a stark contrast to the physical brutality unfolding within the shadows.

As Houston continued to taunt and defy his assailants, his words seemed to stoke the flames of anger within the group. Enraged by his resistance, one of them, fueled by a dangerous determination, decided to escalate the brutality. Ignoring any sense of restraint, the assailant intensified the assault on Houston, delivering even more vicious and calculated blows.

The room echoed with the sickening sound of each punch, and the atmosphere grew heavier with tension. Red, still recovering and watching in horror, felt a surge of desperation. He tried to crawl towards his older brother, yearning to intervene, but the pain and weakness overwhelmed him.

In a cruel twist, the assailant landed a final, devastating blow to Houston's head. The force of the impact was enough to knock Houston unconscious, his body slumping to the ground. The room fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the assailants and the distant echoes of the ongoing conflict outside.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the gravity of the situation sank in. Red, now immobilized by the pain and the sight of his unconscious brother, felt a mix of despair and rage. The assailants, seemingly satisfied with the outcome, stood over Houston's prone form, their intentions unclear but undoubtedly malevolent.

In the shadows of Davy Crockett High School, the air was thick with betrayal and violence. The former comrades, now adversaries, had reached a point of no return, and the consequences of their actions reverberated through the darkened corridors of the school, leaving uncertainty and dread in their wake.

As the assailants, satisfied with their brutal act, left the room, Red, filled with a mix of emotions, slowly mustered the strength to crawl towards his unconscious older brother. The room remained silent, except for the distant sounds of the ongoing conflict outside, a stark reminder of the chaos enveloping Davy Crockett High School.

Red reached Houston's side, his hands trembling as he gently cradled his brother's head. Tears streamed down Red's face as he spoke to Houston, a mix of despair and determination in his voice.

"Come on, Big Bro... You can't... You can't leave me like this," Red whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You always said we'd face everything together. We're the Red Ace and the Spector of Death, right? We don't go down that easily."

Red's hands shook as he wiped away tears, his gaze fixed on Houston's unconscious form. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, but a flicker of determination shone in Red's eyes. He wasn't ready to accept defeat, not when his brother needed him the most.

"I don't know what they did to you, but we'll get through this. You and me, like always," Red murmured, his voice a mix of sorrow and resolve. "Hold on, Big Bro. We'll make them pay for this. I promise."

In the dimly lit room, surrounded by shadows and the echoes of betrayal, Red clung to the unconscious form of his older brother, a beacon of hope in the midst of darkness.