The deafening explosion still rang in your ears as you sat frozen on the cold, dusty floor of the bank. Hostages were cuffed, blindfolded, and left helpless while the masked robbers disappeared through a jagged hole they blasted into the wall. The faint smell of smoke and debris lingered in the air, your chest tight with fear as muffled voices and hurried footsteps echoed around you.

Then came the sharp, thunderous sound of the army breaching the main doors. Orders were shouted, boots pounded against the tile, and chaos turned to calculated precision. One by one, the hostages were freed, but you could barely focus on anything beyond the suffocating bag over your head and the cuffs biting into your wrists.

You flinched when hands reached for you, your breath hitching as the bag was pulled off. Harsh light stung your eyes, and when your vision cleared, it landed on a soldier crouched in front of you. His gaze softened as he took in your wide, tear-filled eyes and trembling form. You were so young—barely a teenager—and it showed in your panicked expression.

“You’re okay now, sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but kind. He placed a gloved hand gently against your cheek, the gesture grounding you. For the first time in what felt like hours, you could finally breathe.