Cold rain blanketed the desolate graveyard on the outskirts of the capital.
A matte black military SUV came to a silent stop outside the rusted iron gates.
The door opened, and a young woman stepped out. She didn’t bother with an umbrella—thin strands of rain quickly glued her bangs to her forehead.
“Commander, your umbrella.”
A tall man followed behind her, opening a large, black military umbrella and holding it steady above her head.
Raindrops immediately started soaking through his perfectly pressed uniform. The dragon insignia on his shoulder said it all—he was a Lieutenant General of Hanloria, someone whose word alone could shake entire regions.
But right now, he stood quietly, almost deferentially, just to shield her from the rain.
“General Jackson, representatives from the top families and the press are still waiting for you at the airbase. Should we head over soon?”
“Let them wait.” Serena Jackson’s eyes cut through the curtain of rain and locked onto a forgotten corner deep inside the cemetery.
There—at the loneliest, most rundown part of the public graves.
The writing on the headstone had been erased by years of wind and rain.
Water trickled down the worn surface like silent tears.
Serena reached into her coat and pulled out a folded letter.
The paper had been crumpled so many times it barely held its shape. She slowly opened it, eyes falling on the smudged, bleeding ink.
“Serena, I failed to protect you… I’m so sorry…”
“If you’re reading this… I’m probably already gone… My life’s a wreck; death doesn’t scare me anymore. But please, look after your brother…”
“I was the one who forced you to enlist that year, made you suffer through hell. Don’t blame me. If I hadn’t sent you to the military, the Jacksons would’ve taken your life too… I’m sorry, all I ever wanted was for you to live…”
“I was bound to be a pawn in the family’s political marriage games, and I won’t pretend I never regretted it. But having a daughter like you made it all worth it… I just wish I could’ve seen you one last time. Serena… I miss you more than anything…”
—Lilian Grant’s final words.
Every line scorched like molten iron against Serena’s frozen heart.
The letter shook violently in her grasp, soaked with old grief and raw despair from her mother’s final moments.
Eight years.
Eight whole years.
She’d patched up wounds on frozen Siberian battlefields, clawed her way through war zones in Africa.
Again and again, she survived missions that felt ripped from hell itself—until she turned into a weapon sharper than any steel.
At just seventeen, she earned her stars—Hanloria’s youngest female general.
The only thing that pushed her through that nightmare wasn’t just hatred—but that bone-deep sting of being left behind.
She’d hated Lilian Grant. Hated that her own mother had shoved her off that cliff without a second thought.
But now?This thin letter sliced straight through the wall of hatred she'd built all these years.
Turns out, she was never abandoned. Her mother used her last ounce of strength to push her toward the only escape.
Serena Jackson crouched by the small, weatherworn tombstone, brushing her fingers lightly across its cracked surface.
Just like she'd once touched her mother's cheek as a kid.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?"
A scruffy man in a cheap jacket stomped through the muddy path, water splashing with every step.
His face was a mess of saggy skin and spiteful eyes, barking at Serena like she was some stray.
"Are you deaf? The Jackson family said no one—and I mean no one—gets near this bitch’s grave!"
He jabbed a grimy finger at Lilian Grant’s tombstone, lacing every word with the kind of venom used for rats.
"Scram! You mess with the Jacksons, you’re asking to get your skin peeled off. Hear me?"
Serena slowly turned around.
Her eyes, cold and sharp, finally locked onto the noisy thug with a chill that could freeze blood.
Something about that stare made his guts twist, but he still puffed up, clinging to that borrowed arrogance.
"What the hell are you looking at? Think a uniform makes you scary? I’m telling you—get out. Mr. Jackson doesn’t want anyone mourning that bitch. You’re still here next second, you’ll be dead by the third!"
"The mighty Jackson family?"
The lieutenant general’s voice was calm, but every word hit like a hammer.
"You think that’s enough to scare General Jackson?"
"General... Jackson?" The thug froze, confused for a beat—but years of swagger wouldn’t let him back down.
"Who gives a damn about generals or marshals? In front of the Jacksons..."
"Take care of him."
Three words—lightly spoken by Serena.
"Yes, General!"
The lieutenant moved without a word.
No flare, no warning, just a vice-like grip around the man’s throat.
"Ugh—!"
That smug face twisted into raw panic and pain.
He clawed at the hand crushing his neck, tried to scream, to yell Jackson’s name like a shield,
But nothing came out.
That wasn’t just any hand.
Only now did he realize—those stars on her shoulder were real.
The girl in black before him was Hanloria’s youngest top general.
Even as his cries tore through the air, bones snapping loud beneath the rain,
Serena didn’t even blink.
She just flicked two slender fingers against the droplets clinging to her sleeve, almost bored.
Then she opened the car door and slid into the back seat.
Thud.
The heavy door shut with finality.
Her eyes landed back on the crumbling grave through the rain-streaked window,
Lonely as ever in the downpour.
Her lips curved into a cold, quiet smile.
Everyone who hurt her mother and brother—
They were going to pay.
