Blood
Gary's hand tightened around the scope until his knuckles gleamed white.
His breath stalled in his chest. The world beyond the barrel blurred at the edges, shrinking to a single impossible point. His jaw locked so hard it felt as if his teeth might splinter, and the faint, triumphant smile that had lingered on his lips drained away — swallowed by the storm rising behind his eyes.
"…Impossible," he whispered.
The word slipped out like a crack in stone — small, but enough to make everything around him tremble.
The men nearby froze. The air thickened, pressing down on them, heavier than any armor they'd ever worn, heavier than the memory of battles they'd barely survived. Boots shifted against the dirt. Gauntleted hands hovered uselessly at their sides. No one wanted to be the first to speak, as if even sound might shatter whatever truth their commander had just seen.
