[Time Remaining: 3 Hours, 22 Minutes]
The mess hall was quieter than it should be.
Forty demons sat in small clusters, eating what might be their last meal. Just... eating. Fueling bodies that would be pushed to their limits in a few hours.
Skel'var sat alone in a corner, staring at food he wasn't consuming.
Liam joined him uninvited.
"You should eat," he said. "You'll need the energy."
"I've spent three months watching soldiers eat their last meals," Skel'var said without looking up. "I know what it looks like when someone's made peace with death."
"Have you?"
The young commander finally raised his eyes. They were less dead than before, but not alive. Something in between. Like embers that might ignite or might fade, depending on the wind.
"I keep thinking about the first soldier I lost," he said quietly. "Grath. Big demon, jovial, always had a joke. Took an arrow through the throat on a routine patrol. Bled out before we could get him back."
