Alone in the Chaos.

30 Minutes Before the Alert.

Officer Jared Hale adjusted his helmet, the familiar weight settling over his head like a second skin. He scanned the city square, eyes sweeping across the dense crowd gathered in protest. The air was thick with tension, the kind that made every breath feel heavier, yet for now, things remained peaceful. Protesters raised their signs high, colorful slogans scrawled across them, while loud chants echoed off the surrounding buildings in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pulse. Bright banners waved in the air, rippling like fabric flames, lending a surreal beauty to the scene despite the underlying tension.

The crowd's energy was undeniable—anger, frustration, and hope fused together into something palpable. But it was still controlled. They weren't here to cause trouble, at least not most of them.

Jared tightened his grip on his riot shield, the hard edge digging slightly into his gloved hand. Around him, the rest of the unit stood silent, forming a solid line of shields and helmets. No one spoke much during moments like these. It wasn't fear—just quiet vigilance, the kind born from experience. Despite the calm, everyone knew how fast things could spiral. Jared had seen it happen before. What began as peaceful could turn violent in the blink of an eye.

"Looks like it's holding steady," Officer Mira said quietly, standing beside him. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp, constantly scanning the sea of faces in front of them. "Maybe we'll get through this without trouble."

"I hope because we outnumbered." 

He noticed a few figures on the fringes of the crowd who didn't seem to fit in. They weren't carrying signs or chanting with the others; instead, they watched the officers with sharp, wary eyes, their expressions unreadable.

"Do you see that guy over there?" Mira asked, tilting her head slightly toward a man near the front of the crowd. The man was hooded, hands buried deep in the pockets of his dark jacket. He didn't chant or wave a banner, just stood still, his gaze fixed intently on the officers.

"Yeah," Jared replied, keeping his voice low. "Let's keep an eye on him."

Minutes stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last. The chanting grew louder, more forceful, and Jared could feel the tension building, like a taut rope about to snap. The crowd seemed to shift ever so slightly forward, pressing closer to the police line. Jared shifted his stance, rolling his shoulders to ease the growing tension. Around him, his fellow officers gripped their shields a little tighter, their postures stiffening.

The radio crackled softly in his ear, delivering updates from other units positioned around the square.

"All units, maintain positions. Crowd remains peaceful. Continue observation."

Jared exhaled slowly, trying to steady the restless energy coursing through him. He caught a glance from Mira, who raised an eyebrow, silently asking if he was okay. He gave her a slight nod in return. He was fine. Just on edge.

Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the square, loud and startling. Jared's heart jumped, and he instinctively raised his shield. But it wasn't a gunshot—just a firework. It burst in the air above them, scattering bright sparks across the evening sky. The crowd erupted into cheers, some people laughing and clapping.

Despite the harmless display, Jared felt his unease deepen. Fireworks weren't just for celebration—they could easily be turned into weapons. He caught Mira's eye, and they exchanged a tense glance.

"Here we go." He muttered under his breath.

Another firework went off, followed by a third. This time, they didn't explode high in the air but lower, closer to the police line. Jared felt the sharp sting of a stray ember land on his arm, but it didn't burn through the protective layers. Still, it was enough to make him tighten his grip on his shield.

The radio crackled again, this time with a firmer, more urgent tone.

 "All units, maintain readiness. Keep formation."

Jared took a deep breath, steadying himself. The line had to hold, no matter what happened next. Around him, the officers stood shoulder to shoulder, shields up, batons ready but not raised. It wasn't chaos yet, but it felt close—like standing on the edge of a storm, waiting for the first bolt of lightning to strike.

Mira shifted slightly beside him, adjusting her grip on her baton. "Think it'll hold?" she asked softly, her eyes fixed on the crowd.

Jared hesitated before answering. "I don't know," he admitted.

For now, they could only stand their ground and hope that peace would hold just a little longer. But deep down, Jared knew it was only a matter of time before the calm shattered, and they were swept into the chaos that always lurked beneath the surface of moments like this.

And then, without warning, it happened.

The young man they had been watching carefully pulled something out of his jacket—a Molotov cocktail. Before anyone could react, he hurled it directly at the police line. Time seemed to slow as the flaming bottle arced through the air, shattering against Jared's helmet and exploding on impact. Flames burst around him, engulfing his entire body.

"Jared!" Mira shouted in panic as her partner fell to the ground, flames licking at his riot suit. Jared rolled frantically, trying to put out the fire, but the thick protective gear made it difficult. The flames clung to him, burning through layers of fabric. Mira rushed toward him, trying to help, but before she could reach him, chaos erupted.

The crowd, which only moments ago had been chanting peacefully, now charged like a wild, uncontrollable force. Hundreds of protesters surged forward, hurling rocks, fireworks, and anything they could find. The twenty officers stationed at the scene were hopelessly outnumbered.

Mira's instincts told her to fall back, but she barely had time to turn before she was struck from behind. A heavy kick knocked her to the ground, and before she could recover, a metal pole came down hard on her back. Pain shot through her, and her helmet was knocked loose. Blood began to trickle down her face as another blow landed, this time on her head. Her vision blurred, but she could still see Jared lying on the ground nearby, his leg twisted unnaturally. He wasn't moving.

"Hold the line!" a voice from their unit shouted, but it was a futile command. The officers were overwhelmed, struggling to defend themselves while dragging their injured comrades out of harm's way.

Jared groaned in pain, his leg clearly broken from the savage beating he had endured. Mira tried to get up, but the world spun around her. Just as she thought she was about to black out, the remaining officers rushed toward them, shields raised, throwing tear gas canisters into the crowd.

The gas erupted in thick white clouds, filling the air with a choking haze. The crowd recoiled, many stumbling back as they tried to escape the suffocating fumes. For a brief moment, the chaos subsided.

"Grab them! Now!" one of the officers shouted. Two officers quickly lifted Jared, while another two helped Mira to her feet. She could barely stand, her head pounding and her vision still blurry, but she forced herself to move. They couldn't stay here.

As they retreated, the crowd began to recover, some protesters picking up rocks and broken debris, preparing to charge again.

"Move! Move!" an officer yelled as more tear gas was thrown to cover their escape.

The unit fell back quickly, dragging Jared and Mira with them, until they reached the safety of their vehicles. Jared's leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and Mira's head was covered in blood, but they were alive. Barely.

As the officers loaded their injured comrades into the back of a police van, the radio crackled with urgency.

"Red alert! All units fall back immediately! Situation out of control. Injured officers reported."

The doors slammed shut, and the van sped away from the scene, sirens blaring. Inside, Mira sat next to Jared, holding a bloody cloth to her head. She looked over at him—his eyes were half-closed, his breathing labored.

"Stay with me, Jared," she whispered, her voice trembling. "We made it… just hold on."

But even as they drove away, the sounds of chaos and violence echoed in her mind.

The peace they had hoped for had been shattered in an instant, and all she could think about was how close they had come to dying.

This was only the start of an event that would mark his name in history as Aurelia's bloodiest protest.