The house in Bukit Timah

[ilikeoldchangke]

Rui's wide sweeping swings of her sabre allowed her to control the tide of the fight. The men were forced into a frenzied retreat, parrying her blows and dodging Jane's thrusts with the spear. The four of them fought in a flurry of motion, moving from the courtyard towards the general office. Mali wanted to takeout Rui first, because she was not as fast as Jane, but it was taking him everything he had to avoid the dark-bladed spear. Each time Rui got close to striking the Teacher, he attempted to rush her when she drew her blade back from the swing. He never got close though. The graceful arcs of the sabre easily kept his shorter blade at bay. Each combatant was maintaining their distance from their foe, perfectly following the carefully laid-out rules of distance management in melee combat.

The Teacher had always prided himself for his ability to remain calm during tense and stressful moments such as these, but he could feel his anxiety building. This was taking far too long and he didn't like the fact that they were so exposed. The longer this dragged on, the higher the chances that backup would arrive for their opponents. He would have loved to have a few more teachers by his side, but every one of them was spread out across the island. Having Mali, one of his star students, was not too bad considering the circumstances they were in.

The Teacher caught a break, his short crossguard catching the edge of Rui's blade close to the handle. He felt a moment of looseness in her grip and, with a hard downwards shove of his combat knife, he knocked the sabre from Rui’s hand. Just when he thought he gained the upper hand, Rui deftly rotated her hand, the knot that fastened the sabre to her wrist coming into play. At the end of its short tether, with her body drawn back, she swung the weapon across in a low swinging arc, drawing blood from the Teacher's abdomen. The Teacher felt the sting as he jumped back. His sudden change of direction drove him against Mali’s back, sending his student stumbling towards Jane.

Mali cursed as he struggled to regain his balance. He had lost one of his weapons in the process, but was now well within striking range of Jane. She hadn't anticipated the suddenly change in proximity and her spear thrust passed harmlessly over his shoulder. Before Mali could bring his other weapon to bear, he had the breath driven out of him by a swift knee to the gut. He did not even have time to react, before a sharp elbow strike to his forearm jarred the sole remaining blade from his hand. The close range had forced Jane to drop her spear and she was engaging him with her bare fists. Mali lowered his body, and with a shoulder charge like a rugby player, he tackled Jane to the ground. The two of them grappled on the ground, desperately trying to gain control over each other.

The Teacher stole a glance behind his shoulder, his body language betraying his intention to Rui. With the sabre still swinging at the end of its tether, she cut a wide arc between the Teacher and Jane. Her intent was clear. There was to be no interference in their fight.

With a lightning-quick motion, Jane twisted herself behind Mali, her arm wrapped around his throat. Mali's eyes went wide in panic as he gasped for breath. He realised that he was caught and there was no way out of it. Jane's grip tightened and her other hand moved in to secure the hold. Her face remained expressionless as she exerted just the right amount of pressure to incapacitate him. Mali thrashed wildly on the ground, trying to break free from Jane's grip, but she held firm with her forearm locked across his neck.

Watching their struggle was like witnessing two jujitsu experts in the midst of a match, both attempting to outwit and overpower their opponent.
The Teacher was ready to jump in and help, but Rui blocked his path. Her sabre was kept trained on him while she stood ready to intervene should Jane start losing the fight. The two of them faced off, both unmoving, both awaiting the conclusion of the scuffle playing out beside them.

Mali gathered all his strength and rolled in an attempt to free himself. Jane, not wanting to give up her advantage, rolled along with Mali, their bodies tumbling and rolling across drain gratings, soil, dirt, and grass. Mali knew if he didn't break free soon, it would be game over for him. Jane's arm was stubbornly pressed around both sides of his neck from behind, cutting off the blood supply to his brain. It was only a matter of seconds before he passed out. In a last-ditch effort, he reached for the spare knife strapped to his right thigh - a mistake he shouldn't have made.

Jane saw her opportunity when she felt Mali's weight shifting. She quickly adjusted her grip, her supporting arm grabbing Mali's right hand which was fumbling to unsheathe the knife. She twisted it back over his shoulder and pinned it behind his back. In one swift motion, Jane released her grip and snatched Mali's combat knife from its sheath, driving it down into his chest. The blade punctured flesh and drew blood. Mali grunted in pain, franticly snatching onto Jane's wrist to stop the blade from entering further. The tip of the knife was stopped by his ribcage, but it would not be there for long. Jane twisted the blade, splitting Mali's flesh while she dragged it downwards towards the soft part of his stomach.

Mali: ARNGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Jane held on, fighting against Mali’s grip, and when the knife reached the spot she wanted, she hammered it into the pit of his stomach. Inch by inch, she drove the blade deeper, blood spurting out from the open wound and pooling around her on the ground.

The Teacher wanted to help, but Rui positioned herself firmly in front of him, blocking his approach with the continuous swings of her sabre. She suddenly burst into action, her sabre whirling defensively around her head, driving the Teacher backwards and distancing him further away from Mali.

Mali: ARGHHH... ahhhh... ARGHHH!

The agony of being disembowelled and not been able to do anything was almost unbearable. Mali screamed in pain as Jane forced the blade deeper and deeper into him. When Jane felt his strength failing, she wrenched herself out from under his back, her hand still firmly gripped on the knife. She grunted and shifted herself on top of Mali, then with both hands on the hilt, she pushed onto it with the full weight of her body.

Jane: Arghhhhh!

Jane twisted the blade, feeling the rough textured grip biting into her hands as she wrenched it to the side and carved open Mali’s stomach. Without hesitation, she drove the knife back in and across to the other side, splitting him wide open. Mali's hands clutched onto his entrails and his screams filled the school's courtyard. His organs might be spilling out, but he was still moving and weakly trashing about. His last attempts for escape were all for naught. Jane pressed her knee on his face and sent the knife into the side of his neck. The smell of blood mixed with the scent of wet soil and sweat soon permeated her nostrils.

Mali was gone. His body lying lifeless on the grass with blood pooling around him. His last moments were spent in agony and fear, knowing that there was no way he could have survived the encounter. Jane rolled off him, adopting a low stance like a crouching tiger. She held the bloodied blade at the ready while she casted a look towards Rui and the Teacher.

Rui landed another slash across the chest of the large man. The Teacher panted hard while he backed away with his knife held up defensively in front of him. Realising that he was outmatched, he feigned a throw before he spun around and began to run. Jane and Rui immediately gave chase.

On the quiet streets of Yishun, three figures pounded down the road. The Teacher sprinted flat-out for a full minute, but he could still hear the girls hot on his tail. He turned to check their distance, his eyes darted between the two determined women, desperation etching deep lines into his face. He reached for his phone to call for backup, the conversation lasted merely seconds before the Teacher threw his phone into a grass patch. He was given the reply that he expected.

Teacher: Hahaha...

He suddenly stopped running and made a lunge for Jane. She did not even slow down. Jane went low into a sliding tackle, but the Teacher was faster. He found his footing and a hard knee sent Jane rolling onto the tarred road. Rui released the handle of her sabre and swung it on its now blood splattered sash, widening her radius of attack to drive the Teacher back.

Instead of avoiding the attack, the Teacher blocked the sabre with his left forearm, the blade digging deep into his flesh.

Teacher: ARGHHHH!

He grabbed the off-balanced Rui and headbutted her in her face. Jane drove her knee into the Teacher’s kidney, but it was not enough to get him to release Rui. Still grabbing onto Rui, the Teacher spun around and caught hold of Jane. He lifted both girls off the ground in a bearhug and began bashing his forehead against their skulls and faces.

Teacher: ARGHHHH… ERGHHHH!

As the Teacher hammered his head against hers, Jane felt like she was being hit by a steel pan. She struggled to free her arm and reached for the dagger in her boot sheath. Beside her, Rui had done the same. One after the other, they sent their blades into the Teacher's body. Arms, shoulders, chest, even his neck, but the headbutts kept coming. His next blow knocked out Rui, and Jane knew she was on the verge of losing consciousness.

She had lost her knife in her desperate struggle to break free, but she felt her legs instinctively wrapping around one of the Teacher's legs. Angling her body as best she could, Jane twisted herself and forced him down to his knees. The moment her feet met the ground, she had the leverage to kick herself free.

The Teacher knew he was done. His vision was blurring and he could feel the bubbling of blood and air from the multiple wounds on his neck. Jane was hammering away at his arm, trying to break his grip on Rui, but he held on. He hugged tightly onto Rui even when Jane twisted and broke one of the fingers on his left hand. He was determined to take at least one life before he expired. The Teacher grunted in pain, blood spilling from his lips as he pulled out the knife Rui had buried in his shoulder. He sent it in a wild slash towards Jane. Jane avoided the hit, but before she could move forward to disarm the Teacher, he had plunged it into Rui's stomach.

Jane: NO!

Jane unleashed a flurry of left and right elbows into the Teacher's face and he finally let go of Rui. Not because of her effort, but because his heart had finally stopped beating. She grabbed her dropped dagger and made sure the Teacher was dead by slicing his throat wide open and severing his jugular.
Almost in despair, Jane threw down the knife and turned her attention to Rui. With one hand applying pressure on Rui’s wound, Jane called the number on her speed dial and shouted into her phone the moment the line connected.

Jane: I have a lioness down. I need help, now! Now!

*

Halfway across the island, in the Castle, Riona stared at the screen in the command centre. On it was a live feed being streamed from the scene by an overheard drone. Her fists were clenched tightly, and as hard as she tried, she could not control the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.
Jackson grabbed Riona by her arm and pulled her out of the command centre.

Jackson: You should not be here...

Riona: Is she going to be okay?

Jackson: Help is on the way. I need you back where the kids are... can you do that, Riona?

Riona wiped the tears from her face and nodded.

Jackson: Help is on the way. We will bring her back here. Okay?

Riona nodded and she bit down hard on her teeth to fight back more tears. Her mother didn't like it when she cried. She forced herself to swallow back those tears as she made her way back to the children under her charge.

*

40 hours before invasion

It was dark when James's convoy pulled into the carpark of Jewel. A temporary ops centre was already set up in a vehicle. The basement carpark was mostly empty after the curfew had been declared. A travel advisory had been issued in many countries, advising their citizens to avoid travel to Thailand, Malaysia, and Singapore for the time being. The airport was busy the past few days, with many countries sending dedicated flights to bring their citizens home.

Chan could not have pulled off such a stunt without help from within. Still, James never expected the help to come from someone he knew - someone he trained and operated with. Simon had always been the rebel from his batch of operators - he had an issue with taking orders from men he didn't like. He would often veer off from the objective and do things his own way, and things like that did not sit well with his superiors. His career path had been rocky to say the least.

Simon loathed authority figures and that factored in when he was not able to pass the psychological assessments. His advancement in rank ground to a halt, intensifying his contempt for the establishment. He was the perfect candidate for Chan, and he took up Chan's offer with little deliberation. At first, Simon merely supplied Chan with classified information, but he soon became more involved in the process. He was seduced by Chan's promise of ensuring a smooth and successful transition of power when Singapore's current leadership had fallen. Subsequently, Simon went all-in with the dark side.

Boon: Simon has about 40 men with him. They are operating separately from the company tasked to guard the airport.

James: How are they spread out?

Boon: Most of the company have taken up defensive positions, with exception of one platoon. They stick around Simon and practically follow him everywhere. They are over at terminal three now.

James checked the instructions he was given and sent his men to notify the rest of the company stationed around the airport. They were to be relieved of their duties and be replaced by another company of soldiers waiting on standby. The security of the airport could not be risked being compromised by someone on the inside.

James’s men took up positions on high ground and blocked every entrance into the central atrium where the largest indoor waterfall once fell. The grand atrium, once a symphony of human activity and glistening vitality, had ground to a profound halt. Gone was the laughter and excited chatter. Gone were the endless footsteps that echoed like a drumroll in the vast space. The ceaseless movement had been silenced, replaced by an unsettling void that hung heavily in the air. The jewel of Changi had lost its sparkle.

The colourful shops that lined the walkways, once adorned with vibrant displays and beckoning shoppers, now stood in a state of frozen abandonment. Storefronts, their lights extinguished, casted eerie shadows against the dimly lit thoroughfare. The escalators, once in constant motion, now lay dormant like slumbering giants. The magnificent waterfall which was once the centrepiece of the atrium had surrendered to stillness.

James and his men waited in silence. When Simon got word that his company was being replaced, he would know that the cat was out of the bag. He was surrounded and there was nowhere else for him to go. His only option was to fight his way out. Even if he managed to get out, he would be doing so on foot. James knew that Simon was not someone who would back down. He was not the kind of man who would consider retreat, which was why James chose to wait for him in Jewel’s main atrium.

Boon: Welly is meeting the cabinet now.

James: What is the situation?

Boon: He's singing.

James gave his buddy a puzzled look.

James: What do you mean?

Boon subconsciously touched the extra drum magazine he slung around his chest.

Boon: For Welly to start singing, I think we're fucked.

*

38 hours before invasion

Everyone rose when Welly Chin entered the meeting room. The rapid chatter reduced in volume until it became a deafening silence. In the room, sat all of Welly's closest colleagues, advisers, and ministers. They were men and women who had stood by him throughout the years. However, not all of them were fervent supporters of his political party and there were some who were not afraid to challenge his views and debate against the policies his team was pushing to implement. But despite their differences, one thing was clear. Everyone had Singapore's interests at heart, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Welly looked into the eyes of his advisers. Their fatigue was evident. It was clear to see it had been days since the crisis started that some of them had gotten a proper rest. Everyone was wound up tight like a spring, ready to snap at any moment. But amidst the tension and anxiety, Welly could also detect an unmistakable sense of determination. He knew he had people to rely on, and that was what kept him going despite the challenges they faced. Welly exhaled and smiled. Then in a relaxed voice, he spoke his first few words upon stepping into the meeting room. But instead of words, it was a song. He had begun to sing.

Welly: In the jungle… the mighty jungle… The lion sleeps tonight…

The singing took everyone by surprise and everyone just stared in stunned silence.

"In the Jungle…. the mighty jungle…. The lion sleeps tonight…."

After the few seconds, the shock subsided and many joined in the song as well. People laughed and a few clapped and cheered.

“Uyimbube… Uyimbube… Uyimbube… Uyimbube…”
“Uyimbube… Uyimbube… Uyimbube… Uyimbube…”

This was a song many were familiar with. Kids loved it, it was catchy, and it was after all featured in the Lion King. In Zulu ‘uyimbube’, meant, ‘you are a lion’, something that Welly's son told him after they watched the show together many years ago.

“Near the village, the peaceful village”

“The lion sleeps tonight”

“Near the village, the quiet village”

“The lion sleeps tonight”

The whole room smiled and hummed along. They allowed themselves a moment of relief from the tremendous amount of stress they had carried for the past few months.

“Wee heeheehee weeoh aweem away”
“Wee heeheehee weeoh aweem away”

[ilikeoldchangke]

Welly stopped abruptly and steadied his breath. He held up his hand and the singing faded away. The smile on his face had disappeared and was replaced by a look of sheer determination and grit. His voice boomed with passion. The sheer intensity of his tone resonating through the air in the room. His words stirred something deep inside each person present.

Welly: The Lion has slept for long enough...

He paused and looked at his colleagues, taking his time to deliver his sombre message. He nodded to his aide, a signal to broadcast his message to the men in the field as well.

Welly: Tonight, we stand on the precipice of a conflict. A moment that will define our nation's destiny for generations to come. For too long, have we been a slumbering lion, resting in a world that oftentimes overlooks our strength, our resolve, and our unwavering commitment to justice and freedom. But let me be clear! The Lion has stirred from its deep slumber.

Singapore has always been guided by the principles of peace, diplomacy, and cooperation. We have sought dialogue, we have extended hands of friendship, and we have pursued solutions through diplomacy. However, there comes a time when diplomacy must be backed by the resolute determination to protect our sovereignty, our values, our people, and our way of life.

We do not seek conflict, but we will not shy away from it when our principles, our freedom, and our very existence is threatened. The Lion has awakened, not as a symbol of aggression, but as a guardian of our nation's ideals and as a protector of all that we hold dear.

Welly steadied his breath and looked at the clock on the wall.

Welly: Chan's men are going to cross the border into Singapore. They have massed their forces just across from us. Our neighbour cannot stop them. It is up to us now. Command has given a time estimate of between 36 to 48 hours before they make an attempt to land on mainland Singapore.

Welly addressed the incidents of equipment sabotage, the mass poisonings, and the terrorist attacks that had crippled the nation's defence and put a significant drain on her resources. But he made clear that he had absolute trust in the civil service and the public servants to do their job.

Welly: We will face trials and challenges that will test our mettle, our unity, and our commitment. Let us remember that the Lion does not roar for the sake of it. It roars to defend its territory, to protect its pride, and to ensure the safety and prosperity of its kin. So too, shall we act with wisdom and courage, ensuring that our actions are guided by the principles of justice and fairness.

In the face of adversity, let us be resolute. In the pursuit of peace, let us be tireless. And in the defence of our nation, let us be unyielding. The Lion has awakened and it stands resolutely with unwavering determination. We, as a nation, shall face the challenges ahead with strength, wisdom, and unity, knowing that our actions are in the service of a brighter future for our beloved country.

Thank you. And may we rise to the occasion with courage and resolve.
Everyone in the room clapped and applauded Welly for his speech, but Laisun, the Chief of Defence Force, was the only one not clapping. Laisun was not only an old friend, but also a close confidant of Welly Chin.

Having been an army man his whole life, he was a straight talker and never one to mince his words. He was a no-nonsense person who had dedicated his life in service to Singapore and her people, always putting their safety first before anything else. A sharp strategist with a keen eye for detail, Laisun's military background provided a unique perspective to any situation - strategic or tactical - which he could utilise to ensure the best outcome for Singapore. His career was defined by his dedication to duty and his staunch commitment to honouring the trust bestowed upon him by his fellow citizens.

Laisun: This is not the Welly Chin I know...

The applause tapered off as all eyes turned to Laisun.

Laisun: What you just said was what the Prime Minister of Singapore is supposed to say... I want to hear from the real Welly Chin, brother...

Welly hesitated, as the head of a country, he knew some things were not meant to be said out loud, even though it echoed in everyone’s minds.

Laisun: These men... they are coming to kill the women and the children of our country, Welly. They are coming to take everything our forefathers built. They are coming to burn, pillage, and kill. They have already started killing, they have started to rape, and the burning has begun!

In a fit of frustration, Laisun pounded his fist on the table's hard surface, releasing all of the tension that had been building up inside of him.

Laisun: Where is the Welly Chin we elected?!

When Welly looked up at the people in the room again, his eyes had taken on an intense hardness. Gone was the passive gaze of a politician, and in its place was the unmistakable glint of a warrior, resolute and unyielding.

Laisun: What are you going to do with these men, Welly? Say it. I want to hear from the Welly Chin I know. I want to hear it from the man I fought and serve with! Say it!

And the instant Welly's words travelled over the airwaves to the troops at the frontline, the meeting room erupted with fists hammering on the table as preparations went underway for Singapore's baptism by fire and blood.

*

"We'll Kill them all."

Boon chuckled, commenting that hearing that beat hearing Welly sing.

Boon: But still, he say only leh… We are the ones doing the work.

James: He has a heavier burden to bear than all of us. Every decision, every life lost, it will all be on him. History will judge his every decision.

Boon: What are our options?

James: To leave the island. Chan left us an open ticket. They didn't hit the airport or the port and they left the causeway open. Chan kept open the option for people to leave. There were no attacks on any Singaporeans who had fled across the causeway. He gave those who wanted to go a chance.

Boon: Are we to thank him for his mercy?

James: Chan knows the people and the talents are what makes this island valuable. Nothing more. Many have fled and we cannot blame them.

Boon: No, we can't.

James: You should have left too...

Boon: And what, watch you shit yourself alone on the field?

James: So, you are here to shit together with me, is that it?

The men laughed. And after a moment of silence, Boon said softly to his old friend,

Boon: I'm afraid, bro. For the first time ever, I'm scared.

James knew his friend was not afraid of what they were about to face, rather, he was afraid of what would happen to his family if they failed. The clattering of smoke grenades landing on the floor of the main atrium of Jewel interrupted them. The smoke was so thick that it was impossible to see more than a few meters ahead. As he and his men donned their gas masks, James could hear Simon shouting at him.

Simon: Who gave you the authority to replace my men from the field?! WHO?!

A burst of rifle rounds slammed into the terraced greens.

Simon: JAMES! Is that you?

Simon fired his weapon again, the bullet splintering the glass of the dome above.

Simon: Are you here? JAMES!

Simon's men were spreading out around the atrium, finding cover where they could at the bottom of the terrace. Many of them cursing when they realised the higher ground had already been taken by James and his men.

Simon: JAMES! You coward!

James spoke into the mic connected to the Jewel's audio broadcast system.

James: It's over Simon. Tell your men to put down their weapons. It doesn't have to end like this.

Simon shouldered his rifle and fired into the terraces of the upper levels. Before the echoes of his shots died away, sporadic gunfire sounded out by the escalators and staircase where a platoon of Simon's men attempted to flank James from the rear. They were easily pushed back by the teams Boon had stationed at each entry point.

Simon: Singapore is sick, JAMES! She is SICK! This is the medicine she needs!

James: Simon, tell your men to put down their weapons. This is your final warning.

Simon: Or what? OR WHAT?!

A sharp shriek from a whistle sounded out, a signal from Simon to begin the assault. More smoke grenades belched out clouds of concealment for the men who began their advance to the upper levels. They tried to shoot their way in, but were held back by the well-guarded chokepoints.

With a rearguard taking random potshots into the lush terraces that surrounded them, Simon’s men dragged several casualties along with them in retreat. They were forced back into the belly of Jewel where they regrouped. There, Simon gave instructions for a different tactic – one that sounded strangely like retreat. He instructed one of his men to rig up a charge of explosives. They were going to blow up the funnel of the waterfall and head down to the lower levels.

Simon: We'll rappel down if we have to!

Simon caught some movement by a tree and sent a volley of shots that way. Several rounds slammed into the tiled walls by Boon's head.

Boon: James...

James got on the line with Welly, updating the conference room on the latest development. He was given a decisive reply.

Welly: Finish it, James. I need you somewhere else.

James's finger curled around the trigger. He knew it would all be over once he fired the first shot. His men all knew what to do. He spoke into his throat mic, addressing the men waiting for his command.

James: Make it quick.

And he squeezed the trigger of his rifle, sending his first round into the body of a fellow soldier – a soldier with the same Singapore flag plastered on his sleeve.

Simon's men were caught off guard and they scattered in all directions. Some tried to take cover behind the trees, while others regrouped, thunder cracking from their guns, sending fusillades of bullets into the fray. The atrium was riddled by a leaden deluge. Rounds ricocheted off the walls, sending chips of tiles onto the ground like volleys of pebbles. Bullets embedded themselves in planters, scattering puffs of soil into the air from the force of the strikes. The whole area was lit up by muzzle flashes. The bright bursts of light blinding to see on night vision.

The atrium became a makeshift battleground. It was not a fair fight, for James's men were better equipped. They had been in actual battles and they had the high ground. James and his men moved as they fired, never staying in the same position for more than a few seconds. As the bullets flew, the ground was sprinkled with shards of glass from the dome above, the marble slabs that lined the walls shattering into clouds of dust under the impact of the bullets. The once scented air of Jewel Changi, formerly permeated with the fresh smell of greens, now hung heavy with the acrid scent of burnt plastic, the smell of burnt gasses from hundreds of expended rounds. The smell of a warzone.

Within a couple of minutes, more than half of Simon's men were cut down. The pungent odour of sweat and the sickly-sweet scent of gun oil and blood soon overtook the enclosed atrium. Simon tried to rally and regroup his men, but even through the comms, the roar of gunfire made it hard to hear anything else.

Simon: Watch the rear! Watch the rear!

The gunfire was punctuated by the yelling of men and the occasional thump of a body hitting the ground. Tracer rounds carved bright streaks under the darkness of the glass dome, adding to the chaos below the shattered glass. Both sides did their best to gain an edge over the other, but soon enough, Simon's forces began to weaken as James's men took down his troops one by one.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last scream echoed throughout the terminal. It was all over. A shroud of smoke hung heavy in the air as James's men emerged victorious. It was a bloody and brutal fight. The atrium was littered with the bodies of Simon's fallen soldiers, their blood mingling with the shattered glass and marble. Simon sat at the foot of a concrete bench; its beautiful tile cladding reduced to bits of rubble. His chin was down against his heavily breathing chest, his eyes staring at the multitude of entry wounds on his body.

The remaining members of Simon's forces had thrown down their weapons and surrendered. A quick count revealed two injured on James' side. While their injuries were not life threatening, they would not be able to fight anytime soon - not when you had a severed limb or a shattered knee.
James walked through the atrium, looking at the destruction that had been wrought upon the once-beautiful Jewel Changi. The waterfall was now little more than a pile of rubble, the walls were pockmarked with bullet holes, and the scent of blood hung heavy in the air. James suppressed a shiver as he looked around at the carnage. Boon walked up to him, his face smeared with dirt and sweat.

Boon: He's done.

The two men walked over to Simon. James lowered himself to face his former comrade in arms. Simon was bleeding out fast. He was not going to last more than a couple of minutes.

James: Why? Why did you do it?

Blood poured out of his lips when Simon smiled. He used to love his country, but had grown to hate it for what she had become. The massive influx of foreigners, the runaway home prices, the slew of social problems that came with the different policies implemented, all that had driven him down this path.

Simon: For change...

James: You took an oath to protect this country, Simon...

Simon: I did. And I know I died while doing so... I tried to protect the Singapore I grew up in, the Singapore I knew… in the way I think is best for her...

Simon coughed and convulsed as blood started to fill his punctured lungs, he was literally drowning while he sat on dry land.

James shook his head and stood up. Without hesitation, he pulled out his pistol and put a round through the top of Simon's head. The round exited from the bottom of his chin and penetrated his ribcage, opening up a new channel for what was left of his blood to join the pool around his body.

Boon: We need to head out.

James: Leave the clean up to the company taking over airport security. I want everyone to do a quick ammo count, re-kit, and be ready to move in 30 minutes.

*

When Captain Weibin and his men arrived to take over the airport security detail, they were horrified to see the aftermath of the battle in Jewel Changi. Their horror was palpable as they stepped through the formerly magnificent atrium. The once beautiful area had been transformed into a warzone. Rubble was strewn everywhere, the walls were dotted with bullet holes, and the acrid smell of discharged rounds still lingered in the air.

Weibin and his men quickly spread out to survey the scene. The dead needed to be cleared before they could tend to their duty. Weibin turned around when he heard commotion behind him. Colonel James was approaching with a handful of his men.

Weibin: What happened here?

James briefly recounted what had happened inside the atrium. He told Weibin that he and his men would need to hold security at the airport until further instructions were given.

Weibin: We... we are reservists... This... we…

James gave the young captain an encouraging tap on his arm.

James: No such thing as reservist or regulars today, bro. It's just us and them.

*

‘Chinese teacher is dead.’

That was the message broadcast to the rest of Chan's teachers. They all knew what to do. They deleted the message from their phones and destroyed the SIM card. They checked the timing and put in a new SIM card into a new disposable phone.

The 'Science Teacher' stood at the balcony of a condominium located in the same neighbourhood as the Castle. He could see the lights and the activity that went on in there. All the road signs in the surrounding areas had been removed, and there were regular patrols all over the estate. It was not going to be easy to make a move on the Castle, but it was one he was going to enjoy.

Turning to his class of students, he looked at his watch before he announced to them that the main force would begin the assault on Singapore in 24 hours.

Teacher: Rest now, my students. Have a good rest. The Lesson begins in 24 hours.


...

[water_boi]

Originally Posted by ilikeoldchangke

Teacher: Rest now, my students. Have a good rest. The Lesson begins in 24 hours.

...

lesson starting soon bro @ilikeoldchangke?

[runsomewear]

Should be a very interesting lesson

[ilikeoldchangke]

Open carpark, Bedok South Avenue 3

11:00 a.m.
17 Hours before invasion

With the random terrorist attacks on civilians and schools, no one was venturing out unless absolutely necessary. Yet amidst the dull and gloom of a country on the verge of war, a wedding was taking place. It was truly an odd sight in the middle of a neighbourhood where most residents were huddled up at home by the television or radio.

Despite a curfew being in place, Johari had special permission to be out and about. And it was not just him, the permission extended to his entire extended family. There was a caveat though - if anything untold should happen, it would be on him. He should not expect extra resources to be deployed just for his wedding, not when the entire country’s resources were stretched this thin.

Johari was a captain in the army and he was getting married that day to his childhood sweetheart, Maisura. Dressed in the traditional Malay wedding costume, Johari stood tall and handsome. Maisura was seated on a wheelchair, her once proud figure had slowly deteriorated away due to her terminal illness - cancer. Despite her condition, she held on to a small smile, her love for the man who promised to stay by her side forever beaming from within.

Johari and Maisura went to the same secondary school and they were an item since they were 14. No matter what life threw at them, their love for each other was something that had proven unshakable. Through all the ups and downs, Johari had always believed in Maisura and her dreams. He had been there whenever she needed him, and he never once wavered in his support of her ambition to become a successful businesswoman. She wanted to open up her own restaurant where she planned to serve a variety of traditional Malay dishes to tantalise the tastebuds of all who dined there. She wanted it to be a warm and inviting place; a haven for locals wishing for some respite from their busy lives; a home away from home that they could come back to time and time again.

After years of hard work, on her twenty-ninth birthday, she received the grave news about her health - news that she had less than a year to live. Yet Johari's love for her never wavered. She was the only woman he loved and he would carry her in his heart till the day he drew his last breath. She wanted to leave Johari, but he insisted on marrying her. He wanted the world to know that they belonged to each other. Maisura accepted. And since they decided to get married, they would make the best of it. She was determined that if she was going to go out, she wanted to do it in style.

Johari: How do you envision our big day?

Johari once asked Maisura that question.

Maisura: Dignified and traditional.

Johari: Then it shall be that way.

It was a bittersweet moment; everyone knew the happy occasion would soon be overshadowed by the news of Maisura's passing. But for now, such thoughts should be pushed aside to bask in the joy of witnessing this union between two people deeply in love. The couple had so much potential ahead of them - if only life were kinder. This was all they had left now - a beautiful moment encapsulated in time, forever be treasured. Legally, they were already wed as husband and wife. It was just the traditional wedding that had yet to be formalised. And no matter what it took, both Johari and Maisura were determined to have the celebration together with their family.

The large gathering of men, women and children did not go unnoticed by Chan's men. He had groups spread out across the island, waiting for any opportunity to create trouble. And one particular group happened to be right in that neighbourhood.

*

Jieming led one of the last remaining groups of rebellious and brainwashed teens. His group was holed up in a unit overlooking the celebration. They did not manage to achieve as much as their brothers - who had made history, stabbing their way into schools and burning down infrastructure. They only managed to set fire to a power station and invade a few units where they forced themselves upon the female occupants. After that, they were forced to lay low after smashing almost a hundred cameras in the vicinity.

Jieming gestured to his team to check out the wedding that was about to take place. There were close to 50 people milling about the carpark. They were defenceless, and if his team were to strike, he was sure they could kill at least half of them even before they had time to react. A well-placed stab to the stomach, a deep cut across the neck – any of those would do the job. Even if there were survivors, it would overwhelm the emergency rooms.
Jieming and his friends soon came to an agreement to strike.

All eight of them were armed with machetes, karambits, and knuckledusters. Jieming watched as more and more people arrived for the celebration. This would be a good target. The chaos they inflicted would be painful, and it would be broadcast live.

The teenagers had set up cameras on their third-floor unit that overlooking the large open-aired carpark. Jieming intended to start the live broadcast the moment the wedding began and document the chaos once he and his friends attacked. He thought that this would surely beat the group who struck the school. He used the phone given to him to contact his superior - a nameless man who was his link to Chan. Jieming told him of their intention to strike a wedding party and was given the greenlight to proceed.

At the top floor of next block, the Math Teacher was perched by the window and observing the gathering through a pair of binoculars. He looked at the message sent to him by Jieming, considering if he should send a class of his students to help him, or if they could be better deployed onto bigger targets. Their initial target was a hospital located in Simei. However, they were forced to find cover and shelter before they could reach it.

The Math Teacher had a small class of only 10 pupils. However, they were better trained in unarmed combat then any of the other classes. They were schooled in a mix of Muay Thai and boxing, but the only thing they lacked was actual experience. Perhaps this would be a good opportunity for them to get their feet wet and get first blood on their hands. The easy kills would boost their confidence for subsequent missions.

*

Johari insisted on pushing Maisura in on her wheelchair to make their entrance. They would walk through the carpark while accompanied by the wedding entourage and the kompang performers. From there, they would make their way around the estate and towards the tentage where the main wedding ceremony would take place.

A hushed murmur of excitement rippled through the gathered guests. Their eyes were fixed on the couple whose radiant smiles contrasted the gloom that had befallen the country. The kompang performers formed up before the rhythmic heartbeat of the celebration began. The group of young men lined up, dressed in crisp Baju Melayu, their songkoks perched jauntily atop their heads. The kompangs, their wooden frames polished to a gleaming mahogany, were cradled in their skilled hands. Not only were they good with the kompangs, they were also Johari's men - men who served alongside Johari in a secretive unit. Many more of them were spread out among the wedding guests.

With three hard beats of the kompang, the signal to begin was given. Their bare hands struck the skins of their instruments with precision, sending melodious echoes through the estate. The syncopated beats of the drums was like a siren's call, beckoning all to witness the union about to take place.

The guest gathered closer, many with their cameras raised, while neighbours poked their heads out of their kitchen windows to catch a glimpse of the unexpected sight. The beats were a form of resistance to the fear Chan was trying to spread throughout the nation. The kompang drums were also the signal for Jieming and his men to make their move. The rhythmic beats helped the Teacher to make up his mind as well. His students would make their first kill that day.

The groom, resplendent in his Baju Melayu, emerged from the gate, his steps in perfect harmony with the kompangs’ cadence. A sampin was secured around his waist, and tucked into its folds, Johari wore a keris - a traditional Malay dagger. His smile was a mixture of nervous anticipation and sheer happiness. The kompang players led him, their rhythm punctuating the significance of the moment. His hands gripped the push handles of the wheelchair his bride was on, her breaths laboured through the fog of heavy medication. Beside her, her doctor had her hand in hers and her cousin Sharifa gripped tightly to her other hand. Sharifa had grown up together with Maisura and this was a journey she intended to walk beside her.

The tempo of the kompangs escalated when Jieming and his friends arrived at the void deck. They were about 100 metres away from the celebration. It was as though the drums themselves could hardly contain the explosive energy that was about to be unleashed on the wedding. Amidst this musical ecstasy, dressed in their traditional attire, the silat performers waited in the shadows. Unlike the usual performances, the keris they wore on their belt was not just for ceremonial purposes - they were real, sharpened, and had been used in actual combat. The performers knew this would not be a wedding that went by unscathed by Chan's grip.

The Teacher and his 10 students made their way down to the ground level, positioning themselves to the east of the wedding, while Jieming's group readied themselves at the west. The Teacher waited for the right moment to unleash his students, watching as the drums continued playing while the couple took their spot in the middle of the wedding tentage. The bride and groom stood together at the centre - the embodiment of love and unity. As the kompangs reached their crescendo, the silat performers sprung to life like guardian spirits summoned to protect the couple's happiness. The silat dance was a mesmerising blend of martial artistry and grace.

Each move was executed with precision and finesse, the performers moving in harmony with the beating of their own hearts. The audience was held captive by the spectacle, their collective breaths caught between awe and admiration.

While the guests’ attentions were drawn to the performance and the rhythm of the drums, Chan's men made their move. Jieming and his men spread out to prevent the wedding crowd from dispersing and escaping. They walked towards the wedding with their weapons raised, preparing to drive the ‘fish’ into the net. The Teacher gave the signal, nodding to his students and sending them in like a pack of prowling wolves towards the flock. He did not stay to watch their advance. He turned back to the safehouse. It would give him a better vantage to observe the attack.

The alarmed was raised, but the wedding continued. The kompangs beat louder and with greater intensity. One would have expected the wedding guests to run, but none did so. A few mothers picked up their children, choosing to move deeper into the middle of the wedding entourage.
Johari and Maisure shared a loving look, one that they wished would never end. Johari held his wife's hand. He could feel her slipping away. Sharifa checked Maisura's vitals and a teary look in her eyes told Johari everything. He leaned in and kissed his dying wife on her cheek.

Johari: I love you, dear...

Maisura was too weak to reply, but she could hear his every word. She could feel his breath on her sallow cheeks. Her tired eyes communicated what she couldn't say in words. There was so much she wanted to say to the man she loved, but there was simply no time. She drew her last breath and lost her grip on her husband's hand.

Johari allowed himself a brief moment to grief as he kissed his wife one last time before he stood upright. He had fulfilled his last promise to his wife - to have the traditional wedding before she passed on. He reached for the keris around his waist and turned slightly to his right to see a familiar figure emerging from the midst of kompang performers.

Jeff put a hand on Johari's shoulder and extended his condolences.

Jeff: I'm sorry, brother.

He handed Johari his mask and nodded to the drummers. They encircled the women and children while the men took positions in an outer ring to face the attackers. Panic and fear gripped some of the guests, but the men stood tall and firm. They had trained under and along Johari for years. Johari was recruited by Ron after Owen's exile, and he led the first Malay contingent of shadow operatives in the country.

When Jeff first came back to Singapore - alongside with Xia, the Butcher, and Yiling - Johari was the one who helped him reconnect with the organisation. With the Butcher constantly in a near mental state, and Xia being too intense with everything, Johari was the only one Jeff could really click with.
Viewed from the air, a strangling ring of Chan's men moved towards the wedding, while a slow but expanding ring of Johari's men moved outwards in a slow and deliberate manner. Every man had their keris unsheathed. A sole silat performer continued his dance in front of Maisura, while the rest had joined the outer circle.

As Jieming approached the cornered wedding party, he was surprised to see some of the men wearing masks. It was not the masks that scared him, it was that fury and determination in their eyes. These were not people who came to a wedding expecting to feast - they were men ready for a fight. With a fierce, collective battle cry, they leaped into battle with the echoes of the kompang filling the entire estate.

Machete, karambit, dagger and keris clashed against each other as the men fought off their attackers with the grace of a gazelle and the fury of a caged beast. The chime of metal against metal rang through the air like a song. The steady thumping of the drums grew louder and more passionate. Blurring the lines between dance and combat, the silat performers moved with astounding speed and agility, avoiding every attack sent towards them, but always staying within striking distance. Their movements, born from centuries of tradition, were a symphony of defence. Their martial skill easily fending off the attackers.

Jeff and Johari drew their keris and made their way to the front of the ring. Driven by a mix of sorrow and rage, Johari picked up speed and charge towards the biggest, most well-built of the Teacher's students.

Jeff: Johari, no!

Like an angry lone wolf, Johari pierced out of the outer ring and went straight towards his target, diving straight into the fray without regard for his own safety. Cho was a well-built and agile figure, his clenched fists and determined gaze revealed his proficiency in Muay Thai. He did not hesitate, launching a devastating series of roundhouse kicks and powerful knee strikes towards Johari. His kicks were lightning-fast, each blow carried with it the force of a wrecking ball. His intentions were clear. To kill. As if his limbs were not devastating enough, Cho carried a Krabi - a Thai sabre.

Jeff jumped into the fight, parrying off the blade of another fighter armed with both a krabi and a krabong - a cudgel. Lem swung his weapons at Jeff, driving him back as he parried another strike with his keris. Jeff's drew out his own blade with left hand, levelling it in front of his eyes while he held it parallel to the ground. Lem moved in for the attack, expecting to drive Jeff back, but he was surprised by difficult that proved to be. Jeff executed a perfect Russian check-hook with his left blade, narrowly missing Lem's face, and forcing him backwards.

Johari stood his ground after avoiding Cho's rapid kicks. Silat was not just a martial art; it was a way of life, deeply rooted in Malay culture. With graceful yet calculated movements, Johari blocked the incoming kicks and strikes, his body flowing like water, deflecting the power of his opponent's attacks. Cho's kicks were fast, but Johari countered with a swift and precise sequence of strikes, using the versatility of silat to his advantage.

[ilikeoldchangke]

He employed low sweeping kicks, close-quarter elbow strikes, and joint locks that defied Cho's attempts to overpower him. He moved with a trance-like quality, like his body was being guided by an ancestral force. The beat of the drums in the background matched Johari's every move, making each strike seemingly backed up by an unseen force. The combatants engaged in a mesmerising dance of steel and martial skill.

Their weapons clashing in a symphony of dissonance against the hypnotic beat of the kompang.
Johari reacted with lightning speed, blocking Cho's jab and, with a roar, swung his keris up to the man's throat. He felt the sickening gush of hot blood as the razor-sharp blade bit deep through flesh and gristle, slicing open an artery in one clean swipe. A torrent of blood gushed out and spilling to the ground, followed shortly after by Cho’s crumpled lifeless body. Johari didn't pause to savour his victory, instead quickly moving on to assist his comrades in their fight against the other assailants.


Both Jeff and Lem had disarmed each other, turning to their bare fists to conclude the fight. Lem swung his right foot, going for a low kick to Jeff's left thigh, but Jeff timed his counter perfectly, lifting up his left foot and swinging it against Lem's right ankle, throwing him off-centre and causing him to lose balance for a brief moment. Jeff changed his angle of attack to Lem's left and sent a knee into his ribs. Despite the pain, Lem stood up immediately, coming in for a missed jab to Jeff's face. Jeff feinted a jab with his left, then, turning his body a full 180 degrees, he delivered a right elbow into Lem's face. With his opponent disoriented and shaking off a bloodied nose, Jeff took the opportunity to pick up his keris.

However, there was no need for him to get his hands dirty. Johari, having dispatched another student of Chan's, had already sent his bloodied keris into Lem's neck.
While Chan's men had a good start, it took barely a minute for the fight to tip against their favour.

*

The Teacher had not expected such resistance from wedding guests. He was not bothered when he saw Jieming and almost everyone in that group being cut down. What disappointed him was how poorly his students had performed. They managed a couple of kills, yes, but they paled in comparison to the results Johari and his men were getting.

He saw his students faltering, and that had to be corrected. The Teacher, while disappointed, remained unfazed as he took out an automatic rifle and loaded it with an extended 45 round magazine. He pushed the muzzle through the window and aimed it at the men fighting in the carpark. He squeezed the trigger and emptied the magazine within seconds.

The moment the first round went off, Jeff dove to the ground and shouted for the men to get behind cover. The drums suddenly ceased and the crackling of gunshots filled the air, followed shortly after by the blood-curdling screams of the injured.

Stationed at the opposite block, Jane found the location of the shooter and took out an automatic rifle of her own. She adjusted the sights and fired. The 5.56-millimetre rounds tore up the walls of the adjacent HDB flat, smashing windowpanes and bringing chunks of concrete down to the ground. Down below, everyone in the open scrambled for cover as a tense shootout between Jane and the Teacher played out above their heads.

They continued to fire at each other, both sides pinned down and caught in a stalemate. Jeff and his men used this opportunity to escape, quickly retreating behind cover while Jane provided covering fire.

The Teacher swung and rotated his body to the right as more rounds tore through the unit. He picked up a backpack of ammunition and explosives and replaced a fresh magazine into his rifle. There was not a hint of urgency or anxiety on his face when he pulled the pin off a hand grenade and dropped it in the kitchen before he evacuated from the unit. The grenade exploded, spitting debris and smoke through the kitchen window and shaking the very foundation of the public housing building.

The Teacher fired his rifle as he ran from the block of flats, shooting at anyone that moved. One would think he was running away, but he was not. Taking a wide arc, the Teacher flanked the wedding entourage and found a spot which gave him a clear view of the wedding tentage and those huddled beneath it. He did not hesitate, he raised his rifle and started firing.

The bullets tore through the flesh of those who had nowhere to hide. The screams of women and children echoed through the housing estate as the bullets ripped their bodies apart, splattering blood across walls and floors. Parents desperately tried to shield their children from harm, but there was nothing they could do. A few managed to survive the onslaught by diving behind cars or hiding under tables. But others were not so lucky. The bright yellow dais where the bride and groom would sit was painted in a deep shade of red with the blood of the dead and dying.

Johari scrambled, crawled, and ran towards the Teacher's position with Jeff tailing close behind. The Teacher saw Johari and Jeff coming towards him and he turned his rifle on them, forcing them behind cover. He replaced his magazine, but before he could take aim again, Jane started firing at him from about 100 metres away. A round clipped his left forearm, but he quickly found cover and popped a couple of smoke grenades.

With their vison obscured, no one would risk charging into the wall of smoke, but Johari had already thrown caution to the wind. His wife was dead. The only reason for him to be careful at his job was gone.

Jeff: Johari!

Jeff cursed and went after his colleague. His wife, Jane, joined him seconds later, sprinting towards the men with her assault rifle in tow.

Followed closely by Johari, the Teacher ran across the road, shooting at an unfortunate civilian who happened to be out. He still had a couple of magazines before he ran out, and even then, he had a bag of explosives meant for the hospital. The Teacher took a quick look behind him and, from the distance, he knew he did not have enough time to reload his rifle.

Not before Johari caught up with him. Holding his weapon by the handguard, he swung it around like an axe, cleaving it towards Johari's head. Johari feigned a slip, before rolling his head under the strike in a textbook boxing move. The Teacher did not follow up with his rifle, he just allowed the weapon to fly onto the grass while he reached into the bag of explosives and activated the timer. He pulled out a bundle of C4 explosives rigged against two bags of metal nails. The five-kilogram bundle of C4 had a lethal radius of up to 100 meters in an open area. In a high-density residential neighbourhood such as this, it could cause quite a bit of damage.

Jane raised her rifle. She had her finger on the trigger and the Teacher lined up within her sights when she saw the pressure trigger in his hand. Johari, Jeff, and Jane froze as the Teacher set the explosives on the ground. His face was devoid of expression. He transferred the pressure trigger to his mouth, biting down on it and freeing up his hands. Pulling out a pair of krabi, he pointed one at Johari and the other at Jeff. The electronic timer attached to the explosives read 15 minutes, and it was counting down. It was clear that the Teacher had no intentions of leaving as a prisoner.

Jane's finger curled around the trigger. She was considering if taking a shot was even possible.

Jeff: Jane... go...

Jane: No!

Jeff: GO!

Johari: Both of you, go... I'll handle this.

Jeff had not even begun protesting when Johari delt a graceful strike to his wrist with the knuckle of his index and middle finger and disarmed him of his keris. Before Jeff's keris could hit the ground, Johari grabbed it and took a step forward, stopping just outside the teacher's striking distance.

Johari: You guys still have someone to live for. I don't.

Jeff: Johari, we can take him together…

Johari: My wedding, my rules, bro... If you respect me, please go.

Jeff wanted to protest, but Jane pulled him back. If the bomb went off, all of them would be dead.

The kompang might have stopped, but the rhythmic beat of the drums continued inside Johari's head. He recalled the first time he saw a silat performance at an uncle's wedding. It was not just something done for show - it was a dignified tradition, steeped in cultural significance, reflecting the rich culture and values of the communities where it was practiced.

Johari synced his movements with the beats of the drums in his head, adopting the sikap pasang - the ready stance. With one knee resting on the floor and his other leg bent perpendicular, Johari held up a keris in each hand, one with his palm facing forward, while the other was defensively faced upwards. Across from him, the Teacher swivelled both krabi around his palms and felt the pressure trigger with his tongue. His left forearm was still bleeding from being grazed by the bullet, but it did not appear to affect his confidence one bit.

The Teacher was ready to dance, but so was Johari.

*


Jeff and Jane ran towards their ride parked a street away. Paramedics, police, and bomb disposal had been notified and were on their way. New mission and task instructions had already been sent for Jeff and Jane to attend to, but Jeff was reluctant to leave Johari behind. They came to a black MPV parked in the middle of the open-aired carpark. It was modified MPV that offered its occupants a 360-degree view of the exterior.

The door to the MPV opened, and Billy, Jeff's assistant from the day he first joined the shadowy organisation, gestured to a drone view of the estate. It showed a lone man on a motorcycle speeding towards Johari's position.

Billy: Not one of ours.

Jeff appeared to search the MPV for something, before he spun around and slapped a handcuff around Jane's wrist and secured it to a bar inside the vehicle.

Jane: JEFF!

Jane tugged at the restraint, threatening to kill her husband if he didn't let her go right that instance.

Jeff: Billy.

Billy immediately crawled away from the workspace and onto the driver’s seat.

Jane: Billy, I swear if you move this vehicle, I will fucking kill you!

Billy glanced at Jeff hesitantly before he hit the starter button.

Jane: Don't you dare! JEFF, don't you fucking dare!

Jeff grabbed his wife's face and kissed her while she struggled and hammered at him.

Jane: You don't fucking do this to me and Lynette! Don't you dare do it!

Jeff: I love you, dear. I'll be back, I promise.

Jane: JEFF! You come back here right now!

[ilikeoldchangke]

Jeff could hear his wife hammering and kicking the panels when he shut the rear door. The whole vehicle was shaking when he went to the window and grabbed Billy by his shirt.

Jeff: Billy, look at me in the eye and tell me you will bring her to the Castle immediately.

Billy: I will.

Jeff: I'll see you at the Castle. You hear me? You better be there.

Billy: Don't fucking die out there.

With Jane screaming in the back and threatening to decapitate him, Billy pulled out onto the road and sped off. Jeff was already sprinting back towards Johari’s position. Something told him that the new arrival was not to be taken lightly.

*

The tension between the Johari and the Teacher was palpable. With a sudden burst of movement, they clashed. Johari launched the first strike, his keris stabbing through the air like a striking viper. The Teacher countered with a lightning-fast kick and a follow-up swipe of his twin blades. The krabi whizzing dangerously close to Johari's body, missing his skin by mere millimetres. With the wide swing of his injured arm, a splash of blood was sent onto Johari's face, but he remained unfazed. His silat movements were a mesmerising display of balance and precision, his kris darting in and out, but always just inches from the Teacher's flesh.

The Teacher’s Muay Thai kicks were a blur, his krabi blades a deadly extension of his limbs, always threatening, but unable to strike Johari down. Sweat poured from their brows as they continued to spar, their breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps.

The intensity of the fight was like a storm in an arena, the thunder rolling with each strike and lightning flashing when steel sparked against steal. The Math Teacher usually managed to strike down his opponents in less than a minute. Most of the other Teachers were not his match. But Johari was a lot faster than them and he had a better control of his balance too, countering his strikes and hits with quick weight shifts and strikes. The Math Teacher had never fought anyone like him.

Johari tried to control his breathing. He parried the strikes accordingly, waiting for an opening. He needed to find an opportunity to strike. The Teacher was fast but aggressive in his offence. When executing some of his combos, he had come close to landing a fatal cut. Johari knew that no one could keep up such a tempo for an extended period of time. The Teacher was bound to make a mistake soon.

And as the seconds ticked by, it became evident that the Teacher's impatience was getting the better of him. His strikes grew wilder and less precise, and his impatience hindered him in landing a decisive blow.
Meanwhile, Johari remained calm and composed, his experience shining through. He parried the Teacher’s attacks with ease, his keris always close enough to keep his opponent at bay. Until, from behind him, Johari heard the roar of a motorcycle engine. His focus drifted off the Teacher for an instant, and that instant was all it took for the Teacher to move in for his strike.
Moments before the rider sent his bike flying towards Johari, Jeff threw his body against the rider, sending both of them rolling and tumbling into shrubs and disturbed cow grass. Out of control, the bike flipped and hurdled it way towards Johari and the Teacher.


The Teacher saw the approaching rider, but he would not be distracted. He had seen an opening in that fraction of a second when Johari let down his guard. And that was all he needed. A quick step forward, his left blade down to push the leading keris out wide, his right blade across and within Johari’s guard, and then, its edge would meet Johari’s neck. But all plans, no matter how well-laid, could fail from unexpected factors. On instinct, the Teacher dropped his blades and tucked himself into a sideways roll, just narrowly avoiding the motorcycle as it barrelled past him.

His opponent too had rolled out of the way, losing one of his weapons in the process.
With the distraction past, the two men quickly regained their footing and the melee began again.

*

The Science Teacher was assigned to a different district. He was not supposed to be here, but he could not help it - not when he knew the Math Teacher was in danger. They were a couple - Math and Science always went together. Seeing that his other half was not responding to his calls, he abandoned his students and went over immediately.

After rolling away from Jeff and regaining his feet, the Science Teacher took in the situation. Upon seeing the detonator in his partner's mouth, and considering that their odds were about even, he began drawing the fight away from the explosives and towards the coffeeshop and shophouses behind them. The two Teachers backed their way and retreated into the coffeeshop, closely followed by Jeff and Johari. Less than 50 metres away from then, the coffeeshop had cleared out the moment the sound of gunfire rocked the neighbourhood. It was a peculiar sight to see all the lights on and steam still rising from the boiling soups and food laid out for customers that would not return.

A sloppy kick to Science Teacher’s chest resulted in Jeff getting his foot grabbed and being swept to the ground. He landed hard, but before the Science Teacher could do more damage, Johari deflected a kick with his shin and send a desperate stab that had the Math Teacher scurrying back. The Science Teacher saw his opening and knocked Johari off balance with a right hook, but Jeff recovered and barrel-charged into him, lifting him off the ground and onto a table of half-finished drinks. Everything happened so fast that the men had no time to register pain. Their punches and kicks became a blur. Jeff faced off with the Science Teacher by the drinks stall, while somehow, Johari and Math Teacher were engaged in their own duel up in front of a noodle shop.

The Science Teacher swept a row of coffee mugs half-filled with teaspoons of condensed milk at Jeff, while Jeff grabbed a half-filled tea brewer to meet those flying mugs. Jeff went in for a body kick, but was blocked by the Science Teacher, who, with his bigger frame, lifted and threw him against a POS machine. Jeff bounced back and kicked a rectangular tin of coffee powder towards the Science Teacher, before grabbing two classic porcelain mugs by the ear handles and smashed them on his head. Disorientated, the Science Teacher threw a hard left hook, and despite blocking it with his arm and elbow, Jeff slammed into the cigarette cabinet, displacing the dark packets of tobacco.

Before the Science Teacher could get in another kick, Jeff drove his heel down on the incoming leg, rushing in and landing a quick jab and a right hook. The Science Teacher fell to his right and onto a row of hanging coffee socks. Grabbing the first thing he could reach, he swung a fire extinguisher at Jeff's face, missing him by mere inches. He cursed and threw the extinguisher at Jeff, who, although catching it with both hands, could not regain his balance before the Science Teacher kicked him over the service counter.

Jeff slid and landed against a cleaning trolley. Ignoring the pain, he got up and threw a chair at the Science Teacher who was scrambling over the service counter. The plastic chair merely bounced off him as he broke into a charge. Jeff avoided him and redirected the momentum of his charge into a table of used utensils. The table toppled and utensils clattered all over the floor while the Science Teacher rolled to a stop. He got to his feet and lifted a large round tabletop, then, using it as a shield, he charged towards Jeff.

Jeff executed a forward kick, his foot meeting the tabletop at its centre, but unlike the movies where a single foot could tear through solid tabletops, Jeff only managed to slow down the charge. The large piece of wood forced him stumbling back against the drinks stall, where he hopped across the service counter moments before the panel slammed against the stall and knocking canned drinks all over the floor.


*


Johari was disarmed by the Math Teacher and both men were fighting with their bare fists. The Math teacher had Johari in a clinch and began kneeing him aggressively. But Johari put up a mean defence. He fought himself free after placing a few good jabs to the Math Teacher’s ribs and digging his thumb into the open wound on the Math Teacher’s forearm. The Math Teacher grunted in pain and almost dropped the trigger in his mouth. They separated from each other, Johari diving for his dropped keris, while the Math Teacher pulled out a belt knife.


The Math Teacher's eyes widened in surprise when he found himself at a disadvantage. He realised the wound on his arm had split open during the fight, the angry raw flesh now a gaping wound with crimson blood flowing out. He had lost most mobility in that arm. Johari seized the opportunity, his retrieved keris moving with even greater precision than before. With a swift and calculated strike, he knocked the blade from the Math Teacher's hand and sent it clattering to the ground. He stepped back, his keris poised at the Math Teacher's throat. His purpose was not to strike a pose for the camera - it was meant to distract. The next thing the Math Teacher felt was a dinner knife stabbing into his cheek from left to right, trapping the pressure trigger in his mouth. Blood flowed freely, but the Math Teacher stood there seemingly immune to pain.

Before Johari could end him with a keris to the throat, the Science Teacher slammed a foot into him, sending Johari against the glass display of the economical bee hoon stall. Jeff ran in with a low kick, causing the Science Teacher to stumble into his colleague. By then, the Math Teacher had pulled the knife out from his cheek. He removed the trigger from his mouth and held it up in the air. Johari was about to attack again when Jeff rammed into him, pushing him onto the ground just as the Math Teacher released the trigger.

The explosion rocked the neighbourhood, sending shrapnel in all directions. Bamboo poles with clothes drying on them snapped into pieces and the windows of surrounding HDB blocks shattered en masse. Aquarium tanks at a nearby pet shop were shattered by the shockwave and the fishes flopped about on their bellies on the concrete floor. The shrapnel tore out large chunks of tree bark, some pieces as big as a wall fan, from the 50-year-old raintrees. Crowns of matured trees in the area were given an early trim too. Cars, shopfronts, and even ATM machines were pulverised by the explosion. Lights, fans, and wall tiles in the coffeeshop were smashed into chips of sharp stone that rained down on Jeff and Johari while they hugged the ground. A fire hydrant was cut down in half, while the damaged watermains sent spouts of water into the air. When the smoke died down, there was a crater on the ground the size of a car.

Jeff pushed himself off the ground, covered by debris and food scraps. He looked at where the two Teachers were standing earlier, and they were no longer there.

Jeff: Johari... Johari!

Johari: Am I dead?

Jeff: Not yet… You, okay?

Johari: I think so... How about you?

Jeff: I think I pulled a muscle somewhere, but other than that, I'm fine.

Johari took a look behind Jeff and added,

Johari: Not for long...

Jeff: Huh?

Jane charged into their midst, the mangled metal of one side of the handcuff still dangling from her wrist. Before Jeff could react, Jane slapped him across the cheek, swept out his legs from under him and putting him in a chokehold. Jeff didn't even have time to draw in a breath before his arms flailed wildly as Jane's legs wrapped around his body.

Johari climbed up from the ground and, as he looked at Jeff, on the verge of being choked to death by his wife, he didn't envy him one bit, but a part of him wished Maisura was there with him. Jeff was waving desperately to him for help, but Johari was not about to cross Jane.

Jane: I said I'll fucking kill you...! I mean it…!

Johari: Go to sleep, Hibiki...

That was the last thing Jeff heard before everything went dark and his body went limp. As soon as he was out, Jane let go and checked Jeff for a pulse.

Johari: He won't go that easily.

Jane: I know. I won't let him.

*

[ilikeoldchangke]

The Majestic Hotel, Melaka, Malaysia
6:00 P.M.
10 hours before invasion

A wedding was taking place, and by the amount of security personnel on site, one could tell that the couple were no ordinary civilians. The street had been cleared in advance by a platoon of soldiers, and inside the hotel, armed guards belonging to Muthir, the former Malaysian Prime Minister, were stationed at every corner. In the function room, Muthir's youngest daughter was having a private wedding ceremony for the immediate family.

After giving his daughter his blessing and completed his duties as a father for the ceremony, Muthir stepped out of the function room. His guards escorted him to a suite located at the back of the five-star hotel. Muthir’s disdain for Singapore was well known. He had a complex and at times strained relationship with Singapore. This disdain ran deep, rooted in historical tension since Singapore joined the Federation of Malaya to form Malaysia, and carried on after Singapore gained independence. To Muthir, Singapore's rapid rise to economic glory following independence further stoked his resentment, kindling a fierce sense of economic competition.

This rivalry wasn't merely economic, but also political. Muthir's leadership was marked by a distinct political ideology and a vision of Malaysia that clashed with Singapore's authoritarian style of governance. It was a contrast that accentuated their differences. Water disputes casted another shadow on their relationship.

Muthir persistently criticised the water agreements between the two nations, deeming them unfavourable to Malaysia. Later attempts at renegotiating these terms only deepened the diplomatic divide.
Throughout his career, Muthir engaged in high-profile disagreements and disputes with Singaporean leaders. These fiery encounters etched the perception of disdain in the annals of their relationship. With the backdrop of historical grudges, economic rivalry, political discord, water feuds, and diplomatic disputes, the complex relationship between Muthir and Singapore wove a narrative of intrigue, one that would impact the lives of many caught in the whirlwind of Southeast Asian politics.

Muthir eventually stepped down and retired, handing the reins to lead Malaysia to his successor. As the world celebrated his retirement from the political stage, Muthir quietly retreated to the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the public and the scrutiny of international politics. The man who had once led Malaysia with a steely resolve, guiding it through economic storms and political upheavals, now harboured a hidden agenda.

The world believed that Muthir had gracefully passed the torch to his successors and embraced a peaceful retirement. Yet, behind closed doors, his mind churned with a secret, deeply rooted ambition. He had not forgotten his decades-long disdain for Singapore - the tiny city -state that had thwarted his ambitions, challenged his vision, and stood as a constant reminder of his unfinished business

In the seclusion of his private study, amidst the books and mementos of a long and illustrious career, Muthir embarked on a covert mission, carefully concealed from the public eye. His intelligence networks were reactivated and shadowy alliances formed in the dark corners of power. Muthir's tactics were subtle, a symphony of calculated moves in a political chess game. He began to sow the seeds of discord, quietly plotting to undermine Singapore's stability and international standing.

There was a saying, ‘men with the same vision, eventually would meet’. This proved true when Muthir accidentally chanced upon Chan’s plot to undermine Singapore. Both of them were orchestrating similar events, and when they realised their goals were aligned, they knew they needed to mobilise the same resources. They hit it off right away, and soon, an alliance was formed. The world watched as Singapore's relationships with neighbouring countries grew increasingly strained, its economic alliances frayed, and its international reputation tarnished. What seemed like a series of unrelated events, were, in fact, masterfully orchestrated manoeuvres by the former statesman. He had agents in the highest echelons of power, whispering into receptive ears, and he possessed a deep well of knowledge about Singapore's vulnerabilities – chief among them, the water supply.

The clock was ticking, and as the world remained blissfully unaware, Muthir, the retired statesman turned clandestine puppeteer, continued to pull the strings, inching closer to a grand finale that would see Singapore's downfall. All while maintaining a facade of innocence and plausible deniability. Chan would be his vanguard into the island nation.

*

Chan arrived at The Majestic Hotel in Melaka flanked by his personal guard. He was keen to use this chance to collaborate with someone who shared his hatred for Singapore. They both had a common goal: the downfall of Singapore.

Chan was ushered into a suite where Muthir sat sipping his tea.

Muthir: How long?

Chan looked at his watch and replied.

Chan: A little over 10 hours.

Muthir: I have been dreaming of something like this for decades.

Chan: As have I.

Muthir: How do you intend to cross?

Chan: Let me worry about that. How are the... talks with the neighbours?

Muthir reassured Chan that no help would come.

Muthir: Razak's advisers have advised him as per my instructions. Malaysia will not commit more men to the battle. We will regroup and let your men across.

Chan: Much appreciated, but I'm aware that there are some factions...
Muthir: It's impossible for everyone to share the same view as us. Just like some errant sultan and his son who have different opinions about our neighbour.

Chan: They will not be an issue. Not anymore.

Muthir: That is news worth celebrating.

The men touched their tea cups in place of a toast.

Muthir: I understand several companies of soldiers and commandoes are taking things upon themselves when told to stand down and regroup.

Chan: We will take care of them. If it's a fight they seek, we will give it to them.

Muthir: Indonesia will not help. Singapore's ally, Brunei, is occupied at the moment. I have taken the liberty to stir up some… hmmm... family affairs at the palace. Their ships and soldiers will not leave the port.

Chan: That is good to know.

Muthir: Singapore is now a sitting duck. She is ripe for the taking.

Chan: What about the others? The United States, United Kingdom and...

Muthir: They have their hands full with the Ukraine situation, and with Gaza and Israel on the verge of a full-blown conflict, they have no time to worry about a little island.

Chan: An island that sits along one of the most important shipping routes in the world.

Muthir: Don't worry about help coming. I can assure you there will be none.
Chan: China?

Muthir: Massing at the east, waiting for the right moment to retake Taiwan.

Chan: The strong take what they can.

Muthir: And the weak suffer what they must.

Chan: Most of the embassies have called their staff back to their country.

Muthir: I understand the North Koreans still have a presence on the island.

Chan: Yes. They ignored the advice to evacuate, choosing to stay put. They believe no one will dare touch them.

Muthir: And what do you think?

Chan: As long as they don't get in my way.

Muthir: I don't see what they can do. Perhaps harbour a few refugees in their embassy office?

Chan: They will not be an issue. Is your team ready? About what comes after...

Muthir: We have always been ready, Chan. Ready for Singapore to return to Malaysia.

Muthir smiled.

Chan: Alright then, I'll see you across the causeway soon.

After the two men shook hands, Chan told Muthir that he would update him once they made the crossing. Muthir was utterly certain that once Singapore was conquered and it was time for him to take ownership of the victory, his faithful followers would back his bid to enter political life again. He would then create an era where Malaysia was firmly in the hands of the Malays, a time where they would be much stronger and more dedicated than they were now under the current weak governance.

Chan: Looking forward to the dawn of a new era, future Prime Minister Muthir...

Muthir's face lit up with delight when Chan expressed his approval. He felt a burst of pride and happiness. The only time he had ever felt content in his life was when he was addressed as Prime Minister.

After Chan left the building, Muthir and his guards walked out of the suite and down to the basement of the hotel. From there, they entered an underground tunnel that connected to several neighbouring buildings including a hospital. Muthir emerged from a wing of the hospital that had been cordoned off and marked for upgrading. He walked past rows of bunkbeds and men resting beside their gear. He had assembled a private army of men who were loyal to him even after his fall from power. Muthir had the money and resources to keep them equipped and trained, but the challenging part was keeping them out of sight.

The men stood to attention when Muthir approached. They were ready to accept orders if any were given. But there were none to be given - none yet. The current administration was weak, the parliament was rife with discontent and there was no loyalty to be had; political party members jumped ship as and when it fitted their agenda. The country needed someone strong in order to thrive. It needed someone with the iron in his veins in order to rise. Razak was slowly being cornered, the sultans and the Agong had left the country - several had gone over to Singapore, unaware that it would be safer from them to stay where they were. A coup was coming, and Malaysia would not only have a new ruler, but also a new state at the southernmost tip of the continent.


*


Chan's convoy of vehicles headed south towards Johor Bahru. Muthir was a wily old fox, but without his help and resources, it would be hard for him to stir up so much chaos in Malaysia within such a short time. Muthir knew exactly who to go to and which state would lend him his support once he returned to power. And if everything went according to plan, Singapore would cease to exists in a month's time.

[water_boi]

Originally Posted by ilikeoldchangke

Chan's convoy of vehicles headed south towards Johor Bahru. Muthir was a wily old fox, but without his help and resources, it would be hard for him to stir up so much chaos in Malaysia within such a short time. Muthir knew exactly who to go to and which state would lend him his support once he returned to power. And if everything went according to plan, Singapore would cease to exists in a month's time.

thank you for the update bro @ilikeoldchangke.. more pls