Chapter 1027

The auditorium, once filled with laughter, gradually fell into a hushed silence. On the big screen, Cage awoke once more on the recruit training mat. His dark brown eyes, full of sadness and loneliness, reflected a deep sorrow. The bitterness in his expression began to spread.

He sat up slowly, as if each movement weighed a thousand pounds. His body was fatigued, every motion heavy with exhaustion. Even as a voice shouted, "Stand up, trash," Cage didn't respond. His eyes, calm and distant, gazed into the camera—like a dark blue lake, unfathomable and quiet, stretching endlessly.

All the emotions that had been simmering inside him ceased abruptly.

Gavin, watching the screen, felt a lump form in his throat. A deep sigh swelled in his chest, words failing him.

After countless deaths, repeated training, and unrelenting sacrifice, Cage slowly transformed. Like the "Angel of Verdun" in the news, after "a dozen days of training," he evolved into a super soldier. He even pinpointed Omega's location and identified the target. But only after his own real experiences did Cage understand the kind of fiery trial Rita had endured.

Yet, they were still no closer to Omega.

In the first stage, Cage and Rita couldn't even get past the sandy battlefield. Death became a constant companion to Cage, who had to witness the sacrifice of his comrades time and time again.

Some died because of his mistakes. Some died saving him. Others perished because of his failure to act. Many fell while protecting teammates. Yet, despite the endless carnage, they never gave up. They fought on, fearlessly and courageously, in the face of annihilation.

The beach turned into a slaughterhouse. As Cage advanced, so did Omega, evolving, leaving no hope for humanity.

In one mission, Cage sacrificed himself to save Ford, but Griff stepped in, taking a fatal bullet for him. Then Ford died alongside the enemy to save Skirner. A dozen aliens arrived simultaneously, wiping out the entire J squad, including Rita.

Looking at Rita's lifeless body, Cage set down his weapons and stood still, awaiting his own end. Then, just like before, he woke up again. This time, standing before Rita, Cage couldn't summon the courage to continue. He fled, sneaking out of the barracks and drowning his sorrows in the bar.

And then, the world fell. London collapsed, and the world seemed to be ending.

Finally, Cage understood the weight of the phrase "saving the world." It wasn't a joke. Too many lives, including the fate of the entire J squad, rested on his shoulders. With that realization, Cage rose again, more determined than ever to continue training. The sharp words, the arrogance, the bravado—all vanished. In their place, he emerged as a soldier with a steely resolve, his eyes firm, his resolve unshakable.

When Cage returned to the battlefield, he had become an unstoppable force, a war machine, leading J Squad and Rita to new victories. Together, they broke through the beach and entered the second stage.

During a fierce battle with the aliens, Cage and Rita found themselves at a farmhouse. Their car had run out of gas, and their armor's power was depleted. They were stranded. Cage insisted that Rita stay behind while he ventured forward alone, determined to finish the mission himself.

It was then that Rita noticed something odd. She realized they had been here before. Not just once, but countless times. Over and over, they had tried different strategies, different approaches, but the result was always the same: Rita died, and Cage advanced.

Cage knew that to defeat Omega, Rita would have to die—and this time, forever. The weight of that truth crushed him. He couldn't bear to accept it.

So he tried to send her back. But Rita refused.

And so, history repeated itself.

As Rita lay dying, Cage hesitated. Terrified, he slowly approached her, like a ghost, and took her hand. His eyes, once full of resolve, were now empty.

A smile flickered across Rita's lips, her voice barely a whisper, "My middle name is... Rose." Then, she took her final breath.

Cage knelt on the ground, motionless. His eyes, devoid of color, stared blankly ahead. He didn't feel sadness. There was no emotion. Only a crushing despair that anchored him, dragging him deeper into hopelessness.

The aliens arrived, but Cage made no attempt to fight. His world had crumbled. The screen shifted again, and Cage woke up, lost and struggling.

The auditorium was silent. Not just Gavin, but the audience too felt the weight of this moment.

For them, the countless deaths—replayed over and over—had seemed like a game. But with every passing moment, they had come to know the members of J Squad—the kind-hearted Griff, the sarcastic Ford, the tough Nancy, the clumsy Kimmel, the fiery Skina, and the sturdy Kunz.

They had watched these familiar faces die, again and again, for the sake of their comrades, for victory. Now, they understood the true meaning behind Rita's words: "I watched my boyfriend die over three hundred times." Rita had grown numb, building walls around herself, becoming the cold, distant figure she was.

They also understood Cage's words: "I really wish I didn't know you." Not out of hatred, but out of love. The pain was overwhelming, gnawing at his bones, suffocating him with its intensity.

Rita's middle name, "Rose," was a small detail, but it hit with the force of a thousand memories. In the stillness of the room, the sound of sniffles and quiet sobs filled the air, as the weight of Cage's journey sank in.

Time had lost all meaning. The audience had entered Cage's world, experiencing his endless cycle of death and rebirth. With each death, they felt the torment, the pain of the unbreakable cycle.

And at that moment, Gavin couldn't help but applaud Paul Greengrass.

The storytelling, the pacing, the rise and fall of emotions—it all flowed seamlessly. The narrative never lost its focus, never allowed distraction to creep in. Everything was purposeful, every scene meaningful.

Gavin finally understood why the introduction to J Squad felt so complete, almost like they had been characters from the "Avengers." Each squad member had been established with such care that the audience connected with them immediately, shifting the focus away from Renly but enhancing the audience's sense of immersion.

At the heart of the film, though, stood Renly's performance. His portrayal of Cage's internal struggle, his pain, his grief—it brought a depth and weight that elevated the entire film.

Death, in this world, had never felt so easy. Killing had never seemed so effortless.

"Where's your helmet?"

"I don't need it. It's a hindrance."

Back on the battlefield, Cage chose to fight alone. His eyes burned with determination, a bloodlust fiercer than ever. He no longer hesitated, no longer questioned. He was a soldier now.

But it didn't take long for Cage to realize he had walked into a trap. Omega wasn't waiting for him—Alpha was. The alien didn't kill Cage but tried to drain his blood, attempting to sever his time-resetting ability. Alone, Cage had no chance.

So, he chose to cut himself off and return to the past.

In desperation, Cage contacted Rita and Carter, only to find themselves at a dead end.

Their only hope lay in a converter developed by Carter—a device that could communicate with Omega through Alpha. However, they lacked the equipment to test it. All the necessary tools were left at the White House, and they still needed an Alpha.

But Cage was their Alpha.

Together with Rita, Cage made his way back to the War Department in London. After many failed attempts, they finally managed to infiltrate the general's office. And once again, they were ready for a crucial conversation.

"General, this isn't our first time having this discussion. You're stubborn, refusing to believe what's happening. Dr. Carter is right. The enemy controls time. We're doomed. No matter how many soldiers we send, they will all die. The only way to win is to destroy their core energy. And that's locked away in that safe."

It wasn't their first time having this conversation. But this time, they succeeded.