As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but be aware of Rachel's loud snoring. It's probably a result of her lack of sleep these past few nights. Thankfully, there has been no gunfire tonight and everything seems peaceful. The lockdown has not been lifted yet, but I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry. In hindsight, maybe I was being a little paranoid.

Try as I might, I can't seem to fall asleep. Albert's words keep running through my mind, about how the soldiers and mercenaries around us are more concerned with their own safety than ours. It's really unsettling to think about. Why hire security guards who prioritize their own safety over ours? It doesn't make sense. I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right.

As I lay in bed, I find myself clinging tightly to my M4 rifle instead of my pillow. It's the only reliable insurance I have at the moment. If there were to be a sudden attack, at least I would have a way to defend myself. But if the attackers were to be a whole battalion, Rachel and I might have to flee. I can only hope that it doesn't come to that.

It's been weighing on my mind: how will the invaders attack? Will they come at us head-on, with a full-on assault? Or will they try to catch us off guard, sneaking up on us in the dead of night? It's difficult to say for sure, but one thing is clear: I can't shake this feeling of unease. It's like a heavy weight on my chest, making it hard to relax and get some rest. I can only hope that whatever happens, I get out of this mansion, alive.

Despite my exhaustion, I can't seem to fall asleep. Frustrated, I get up from my bed and walk over to the window. I want to see what's going on outside in the grassland. Carefully, I pull back the curtain and peek out into the night.

What I see is not reassuring. The village looks like a ghost town. I can only assume that everyone has either stayed indoors or fled the region due to the heavy military presence. I see people in blue uniforms walking around with rifles and lanterns in hand. It's a disconcerting sight and it does nothing to ease my fears.

To make matters worse, five cannons are pointed, not at the grassland, but right after my house. Is that owned by the blue soldiers, or is that owned by someone else entirely? I am not sure, but I don’t like having cannons pointed right at my window.

I can't believe what I'm seeing. It's bad enough that the village is a ghost town and that there are soldiers with guns and cannons everywhere, but now there are actual cannons pointed at our house. I can't tell who they belong to - the soldiers in blue uniforms or someone else entirely - but it doesn't matter. The fact that they're there at all is enough to send shivers down my spine.

I stand at the window for a few more minutes, trying to wrap my head around the situation. I can't believe that things have gotten this bad. It feels like we're under siege or something. The thought of those cannons being fired in our direction is too much to bear. I can only hope that they're just a precaution and that they won't actually be used. But with everything that's been happening lately, I can't shake the feeling of dread that's settled in the pit of my stomach.

That’s a siege, I have no doubt about it. My military instinct kicks in after I got the conclusion.

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks: if we don't leave, we could be killed.

It's a terrifying thought and it's enough to spur me into action. I quickly close the curtain and head over to my wardrobe. The military presence outside is more than enough reason for me to be prepared to leave at a moment's notice.

I quickly shed my nightgown and put on my father's smallest military green shirt that I ‘got’ from him and a pair of thick black trousers. It's not the most comfortable outfit, but it's better than being caught in a sleeping gown if things turn violent.

Suddenly, our bedroom windows shatter with a loud noise. I instinctively dive for cover behind my bed, M4 rifle at the ready. A grappling hook lands on the edge of the room and I feel a wave of panic wash over me. Do they have stealthy soldiers? Is this a kidnapping attempt? I keep my finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at the first sign of danger.

Sure enough, I hear footsteps on the wall outside. Someone is climbing up to our window. It's a bold move and one that I didn't expect. My heart is pounding in my chest as I try to steady my aim.

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And then, a man's head appears in the window. Without hesitation, I pull the trigger. The round flies from my rifle and blows his head clean off. It's a disturbing sight, but I know that I had no choice. It was either him or us.

I stay crouched behind the bed, my rifle at the ready, waiting for any further signs of danger. But all is quiet now. I can only hope that the attack is over and that Rachel and I are safe, but that’s just wishful thinking.

At the sound of the shattering windows, Rachel immediately wakes up with a start. Her face is a mask of panic as she looks around, trying to understand what's happening. Her eyes are wide and her breathing is shallow and rapid. It's clear that she's terrified and unsure of what to do.

I wave my hand at Rachel, trying to get her attention. "Hey, prepare yourself. We're under attack. Don't cry now. Just change out of your sleeping gown. The nightmare is just beginning. And Rachel, bring a rifle with you."

Rachel, still in a state of panic, nods and quickly gets out of bed. She runs over to her wardrobe and starts rummaging through it, trying to find something to wear. I, meanwhile, grab the leather bag next to my bed and sling it over my shoulder. It's chaos in the room as she frantically prepares for whatever comes next.

I peek my rifle outside and immediately fire a bullet at the bottom floor. I don’t have to show my face to even know there’s someone below me. I pull the trigger six times and pull my rifle again from the window. Immediately, a hail of bullets greets the previous six bullets.

“Shit, shit, shit, this is shitty,” Rachel shivers in fear as she holds an MH rifle. However, she has worn her shoes, along with changing into pants with the leather bag that we just packed during the day.

I walk down to my wardrobe and pick up my boots. I sit down on my bed to wear it as fast as I can, “Calm down, listen, this is no time to panic. If you see someone outside, just shoot him, alright?”

With shivers on her body, Rachel just replies with a nod. I might be the younger one here, but right now, age doesn’t matter. I only want both of us to get out of here alive. Suddenly, another person climbs the window, but Rachel didn’t even move her finger to the trigger.

She just stands there, shivering in fear as the person continues climbing. I haven’t finished wearing the boots yet, but the person keeps climbing and climbing. “Rachel, you need to brave yourself, aim for the person, and pull the trigger.”

Rachel turns unresponsive. Fear has consumed her fully. The person immediately steps into our with a sack in his hand. He’s not wearing a blue uniform, he’s wearing a gray uniform. Is he one of the mercenaries? And why is he not holding any gun?

I try to reach for my M4 rifle, but the mercenary is too quick. He grabs me by the body and I can feel his hot breath on my face. In a moment of desperation, I do the only thing I can think of: I kick him as hard as I can in the ballsack. He groans in pain and doubles over, but not before he manages to throw a punch at my back. His big body and the force of the punch are enough to send me stumbling to the ground.

"You little rascal, trying to play tough, huh?" the mercenary growls as he towers over me. I can see the anger and malice in his eyes and I know that I'm in for a tough fight. But I'm not about to go down without a fight. I roll to the side and narrowly avoid another punch.

Rachel just stands there like a fucking statue, watching the fight unfold. I can't believe she's not doing anything to help me. "RACHEL! SHOOT!" I shout as the mercenary kicks me in the stomach. The pain is excruciating and I can feel it radiating throughout my body. He then grabs both of my arms.

I struggle against the mercenary's grip, trying to free myself. I kick out with both legs, aiming for his stomach. My efforts are rewarded when he releases my arms and stumbles backward. I immediately stand up, ready to continue the fight, but he's not done yet. He grabs hold of my leg and I trip again, crashing to the ground.

“RACHEL, SHOOT HIM!” I struggle again as I try to find a counter to that mercenary. I grab a pillow and throw it at his face. It only annoys him, nothing more, nothing less.”RACHEL, DONT FUCK AROUND, SHOOT HIM!”

In the dire moment, a thought crosses my mind. I swing my arm while whispering, “Elemental machete.” A machete from ice crystals forms on my hand. I slash the arm that keeps holding me down and the mercenary shouts in pain.

I drop the machete and dash for my bed, where I grab my M4 rifle. My heart is racing and my hands are shaking as I take aim at the mercenary. I pull the trigger twice, sending two bullets into his torso. He cries out in pain and falls to the ground.

I drop the machete and dash for my bed, where I grab my M4 rifle. My hands are in pain as I take aim at the mercenary. I pull the trigger twice, sending two bullets into his torso. He cries out in pain and falls to the ground. I'm not taking any chances, so I put another bullet in his head. The sound of the gunshot echoes through the room, followed by the thud of the mercenary's body hitting the floor.

I stand there, panting and covered in sweat, as I look down at the bloody mess in front of me. Blood flows from three holes in his body, but I know that I had no choice. It was either him or me. I can't afford to let him get the upper hand. I have to protect myself and Rachel at all costs. It's a brutal and violent reality, but it's one that I have to face if I want to survive.

At that moment, I haven’t realized something. The shooting has begun.