The air was thick with tension, the roaring chants of the crowd crashing against the barricades like waves against a shore. You stood tall, hands behind your back, your uniform crisp despite the dust in the air. The protest had escalated beyond local law enforcement’s control—now, it was your problem.

Sergeant Carter approached, his face hard-set. "Lieutenant, the crowd’s getting aggressive. Rocks, bottles—it's only getting worse."

You nodded, scanning the sea of furious faces. Some held signs, others clenched fists, and a few had masked their faces, waiting for an opportunity to turn this into something worse.

"We hold the line," you said firmly. "No unnecessary force. But if they push—" You left the rest unsaid.

Carter hesitated. "With respect, sir, we both know they’re past pushing."

Your jaw tightened. He was right. The longer this dragged on, the more likely it was to spiral into chaos. "We give them one last chance. Announce dispersal. If they don’t comply, we move."

Carter relayed the order, and over the speakers, the command rang out. "Disperse immediately. This is your final warning."

The crowd didn't back down. Instead, a bottle sailed through the air, shattering against a riot shield. Then, all hell broke loose.

"Hold formation!" you barked, stepping forward as the front lines of your unit braced. Carter was already moving, coordinating his men with precision.

As the first surge of protesters crashed against the barricade, you knew—this wasn’t just a protest anymore. It was a battle neither side could afford to lose.