The pain in Marcus’s side was searing, relentless. Blood poured from the wound, warm and sticky, but he forced himself to move, his vision sharp with rage and loss. The footsteps were closer now, deliberate and heavy. He was unarmed, pinned down by pain and circumstance, but not helpless. He was... He could... never be helpless.

His eyes scanned the ground, the debris scattered from overturned tables and stalls. A glint of metal caught his attention—a broken steel tent peg, sharp at one end, lying just out of reach. He grit his teeth, fighting against the blinding agony as he stretched for it, fingers closing around the cold, jagged surface.

The first man appeared around the edge of the game booth, his rifle raised, eyes scanning for movement. Marcus didn't hesitate. He surged forward, every muscle screaming in protest, and drove the makeshift weapon up into the man's throat. The killer’s eyes widened in shock, gurgling noises escaping his lips as he dropped the rifle, hands clawing at the peg now lodged deep in his neck. Marcus stepped back as the man crumpled, gurgling and choking until he stilled.

Marcus snatched up the rifle, its weight solid and familiar in his hands. He didn’t allow himself time to think or process the grief tearing at his chest. The cold part of him—the warrior buried beneath layers of domestic life—took over, and he was already turning, eyes scanning for the next target.

Two more men advanced from the carousel area, their movements quick and coordinated. Marcus dropped into a crouch, aimed, and fired in one smooth motion. The burst of shots echoed, sharp and lethal, and one man went down instantly, clutching his chest as he fell. The other ducked, firing wildly in return. Bullets splintered the booth beside Marcus, sending splinters of wood and paint into the air.

Marcus rolled to the side, ignoring the jolt of pain that threatened to drop him, and came up firing again. The second man staggered back, eyes wide with surprise before crumpling into the dirt.

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The chaos of the park around him seemed distant, like a nightmare half-forgotten. Marcus’s focus narrowed to the immediate threats, to the faces of the men who had shattered his world. He moved with purpose, scanning for more attackers as he pushed forward, feet unsteady, blood still seeping from the wound in his side.

The last two killers had taken up position behind a toppled table near the Ferris wheel. They barked orders to each other in a language Marcus couldn’t place, but it didn’t matter. They were here, and they were going to die. He shifted behind a bench, taking a deep breath to steady his shaking hands, and counted down in his mind.

*Three… two… one.*

He burst from cover, the rifle barking in his hands. The first man went down before he could react, crumpling into a heap. The last killer returned fire, and a bullet tore into Marcus’s shoulder, the force of it spinning him sideways and sending a wave of blinding pain through his body. He gasped, stumbling as his knees buckled. Blood poured down his arm, soaking through the fabric of his shirt, but he held on, teeth gritted, refusing to let the pain win.

With a final surge of will, Marcus raised the rifle, every movement driven by sheer determination and fury. He squeezed the trigger, and the shot rang out, sharp and true. The killer’s eyes went wide, and he crumpled backward, lifeless, his body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Marcus staggered, the rifle slipping from his grasp as he fell to one knee. The pain that had driven him now threatened to consume him. His vision swam, blood loss making everything spin and blur. He looked back toward Emmeline, her small body still and quiet, and felt the world shatter around him all over again.

The sounds of the park—the distant, fading screams, the thrum of approaching sirens—melted into a dull hum. Marcus swayed on his feet, the rifle slipping from his grasp as the world around him tilted dangerously. The pain in his shoulder and side pulsed in time with his racing heart. He collapsed beside his daughter, his trembling fingers reaching out to touch her hand one last time. The sky above them darkened, the last light of day slipping away as Marcus felt the weight of unconsciousness pull him under.