A soldier runs through the wreckage, blood trailing from his leg.
He sees his friend kneeling… then collapsing, a faint smile still frozen on his face.
His back is torn open by laser wounds.
He knows exactly who did it.
He raises his gun, his hands trembling.
He wants to shoot her.
The woman he once loved.
But he cannot.
His fingers refuse to obey.
Two shots hit him—one in the left hand, one in the right leg.
He falls.
His vision glitches—blurring, clearing, then blurring again.
Sounds reach him slowly, as if they are underwater.
The sky has already turned dark.
The moon, once pink, now burns a deep red, watching silently like a monster.
The stars are faint; none of them twinkle… just like his heart, which refuses to believe that the woman he loved is pointing a gun at his head.
Everything is burning.
Smoke chokes the sky.
Fire has turned every beautiful thing into ash.
War… why does it only take the things people love the most?
He screams it inside himself, but no sound escapes his mouth.
Fifty metres away, figures clash with laser swords.
And then—he sees her.
Sophia.
Standing over him, pinning him down.
She points her gun at his head.
"Goodbye, darling," she says coldly.
"It was fun watching you rats crawl."
But her face tells a different story.
It says, Please, my love… end me. I cannot hurt you. I cannot even scratch your skin.
He closes his eyes and whispers within his heart:
War, I hate you.
Love, I hate you.
World, I hate you.
Money… power… all of you took everything from me—and from everyone here.
And inside her heart, she whispers:
Love… I am sorry. I promise you—just like all those days you saved me—I will give even my life to protect you.
She was pretending.
To save him.
And then—
Bang.
But the pain never comes.
A warm splash lands across his face.
He opens his eyes—
The blood staining his skin… is not his.
Sophia collapses into his arms.
And he feels it instantly.
Her heartbeat is gone.
For a moment, his mind refuses to understand.
Then everything shatters.
His body trembles uncontrollably.
A single tear slips down his face, even as he tries to bury every emotion inside himself.
Her scent… her warmth… her presence…
Her voice… her promises…
All of it is fading away.
He can feel pieces of his heart shutting down, one emotion at a time.
The battlefield around him grows distant.
The screams, the fire, the explosions… all of it becomes meaningless noise.
There is only her.
With shaking arms, he lifts her carefully and carries her to the least-destroyed patch of ground he can find.
As if the world still deserves to treat her gently.
He lowers himself beside her and rests his head against her chest, praying that somehow… somehow… he will hear her heartbeat again.
But there is only silence.
And that silence destroys him more than the war ever could.
His voice cracks into a whisper:
"Why… God… why her?
Please… please bring her back.
Take me instead.
Our children… they cannot live without her…
Please, God… take me… me… me… and give her back…"
He takes a few steps.
His legs give way, and he collapses onto his knees.
He punches the ground in grief.
Another tear forms, but he forces it back, locking it deep inside himself like a secret thrown into the ocean.
Slowly, he stands again.
A few metres away, his sister appears through the smoke, her weapon still burning from the last shot fired.
"We are still alive," she says quietly.
"We are winning… I think."
But he does not answer.
Something inside him has already died.
He has become empty.
Numb.
Mechanical.
Together, they walk through the fire, past shattered bodies and burning homes.
People sit silently in the dirt, untouched food lying beside them.
Some are already dead.
Some simply stare into nothingness, as if their souls abandoned them long ago.
Distant screams suddenly tear through the air.
They run.
And then they see her.
Their mother lies beneath the rubble.
Still.
Silent.
Like a flower crushed beneath careless footsteps and forgotten by the world.
Nearby, their father drags himself forward through the blood and ash, reaching toward them.
Just once more.
Just to see his children before crossing into the world of no return.
"Protect… her…" he whispers weakly.
"Protect… the world…"
And then he dies in their arms.
The sister screams.
The brother stands frozen in silence.
Then—they run again.
They finally reach what remains of their unit.
Their friends.
Most of them have already crossed the thin line between life and death.
Some lie beside each other, fingers still locked together even in death.
One survivor looks up at them with hollow eyes and whispers:
"I… I could not… save them…"
Then they see the children.
A four-year-old girl crawls through the ash, one leg missing.
A five-year-old boy clutches his injured arm, desperately searching for his mother.
The sister collapses.
But the brother still does not cry.
He simply stares at the ruined world before him and whispers:
"This… is what we became?"
[Scene: Headquarters – Later That Night]
Under medical supervision, the soldier rests in silence.
Machines hum softly around him while distant alarms echo through the base.
After a long pause, he finally speaks.
"Why did you not tell me she was the enemy?" he asks his sister quietly.
She lowers her eyes.
"I hacked her phone," she admits.
"I am sorry. I knew. I saw the messages.
You protected her since high school… but she never truly chose us.
She chose power."
For a moment, he says nothing.
Then he leans back and stares at the ceiling.
"It is okay," he whispers.
"For one moment… when she aimed at me… I froze."
His sister gently places a hand on his shoulder.
"It is over, Big Monkey. Rest. I am here."
[A Few Weeks Later]
He sits beside a comrade whose hands will not stop shaking.
The man's voice cracks apart as he speaks.
"I… I wiped out three generations… two families…
The last one was a child. Maybe eight years old.
I could not even lift the gun near the end…"
The soldier remains silent.
Because there are no words left strong enough for guilt like that.
Far above them, on a rooftop overlooking the ruined city, a sniper whispers into the radio:
"Bro… look. That building. 1.3 kilometres away.
It is a school.
They are hiding behind the gate."
For one brief second, hope exists.
Then—
A tank shell strikes the building.
The sniper's scream tears through the comms.
"NO! NO! THEY WERE CHILDREN!"
Then comes silence.
A silence heavier than explosions.
He lowers the rifle slowly and simply sits there… staring at the smoke rising into the sky.
[One Month Later]
The war ends.
They win.
People celebrate in the streets.
Flags rise.
Music plays.
Fireworks paint the night sky.
But behind the celebrations… soldiers cry quietly where nobody can see them.
"We lost brothers, sisters, friends, parents… children," he says softly.
"Today's children make jokes about war.
But… is this what we fought for?"
He looks down at his trembling hands.
"My grandaunt lost her leg in that war.
We had to amputate it while wild dogs circled around us.
She fought off four enemies before she finally collapsed."
His voice grows quieter.
"I was only three hundred metres away…
and I still could not save her."
He closes his eyes.
"And we call ourselves humans—
The same creatures who write laws…
and still choose war."