The battlefield was drowned in a heavy, almost sacred silence. The lizard Vorm's roar had faded, and Sareth lay there—his body broken, still smoking from the residue of unleashed power. His blood soaked into the scorched earth, turning it a deep crimson. All around him, soldiers rushed to his side—some crying, others frozen in disbelief. Their general... had fallen.
Kael was the first to reach him, his legs trembling, his vision blurred. He knelt beside Sareth's body, placing a shaking hand on his still-warm shoulder. "Why… why'd you do it, you stubborn old fool…" he murmured, barely able to breathe. There was no reply. Just the wind brushing over the ashes.
Behind him, Naelys ran up, her eyes wide with disbelief. Seeing Kael kneeling, she understood without a word. Her fists clenched, her lips trembled. "He saved all of us… and he did it alone." Her voice was harsh, but her heart wavered. She turned her face away, as if looking at Sareth's body would shatter the strength she had left.
Declan rested a hand on Kael's shoulder. "He died the way he lived. Facing the impossible for others." His tone was steady, but emotion flickered in his eyes. He had always respected Sareth—perhaps more than he ever admitted. Seeing him fall, without glory or applause, twisted something deep inside.
Syla and Nyra arrived shortly after, their faces tight, eyes rimmed with red. Nyra gently leaned down, adjusting Sareth's cloak to cover his chest. "He deserved better…" she whispered. Syla, on the other hand, looked up to the darkened sky. "This world always takes the best. But it won't take his memory."
A soldier came running toward them, his armor dented, his voice shaking but strong. "The vehicles are fixed!" he called out. "We're ready to move. Gather the bodies of the fallen—prepare for departure!"
Another soldier added firmly, "Carry the general with honor. There's no way we're leaving him behind." At once, several men began lifting fallen comrades with solemn reverence. The air buzzed with an uneasy tension—between the relief of survival and the weight of profound loss.
Kael stayed still for a moment, his eyes locked on Sareth's face. Then, slowly, he stood. "He gave us this future. He paid for it with his life. So we don't get to tarnish it." His voice cracked slightly at the end, but no one dared challenge him. They knew he was right.
Inside the armored vehicle, the survivors sat in silence. The atmosphere was thick. No one spoke. Kael sat beside Naelys. She didn't say anything, but he felt her fingers gently brushing against his. He turned to her. "Do you think we could've done more?" he asked softly.
Naelys hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Maybe… But sometimes, there's nothing you can do. Sometimes, the only thing left… is to live. For those who can't anymore."
Declan, sitting across from them, joined the conversation. "His sacrifice won't be in vain. This world will change. If we have to fall to make that happen… then so be it."
Syla took a deep breath. "But what if we forget him someday? What if we let the pain fade?" Nyra placed a hand on her sister's. "Then he'll come back—in our nightmares. And in our dreams. Because he'll never really be gone."
Silence returned, broken only by the rumble of engines as the vehicles powered on. The convoy moved forward, leaving behind the charred ruins. In the distance, the sun pierced through the heavy clouds, like a timid promise.
Kael closed his eyes for a moment. He saw Sareth's face again—that burning gaze full of rage and hope, right before he detonated everything. And deep inside, something shifted.
"This world…" he whispered. "It'll never be the same again."
And somewhere, in the silence of memory, Sareth's voice echoed one last time: "Protect them. Even if I disappear, I want someone to protect them."
Kael opened his eyes. He stood, turned to the others, and declared with unwavering resolve, "This is only the beginning."