The crimson blood trickling down Yeon-woo's throat pierced my eyes. I felt it instinctively—the moment that thin blade severed her breath, the last shred of my humanity would be buried forever.
"No... Yeon-woo, please!"
I threw myself forward without hesitation. Just as she was about to drive the knife deeper, my blunt hand snatched her wrist.
"Let go! Let me die! Just get me out of this filthy world!"
Yeon-woo howled like a wounded animal, thrashing wildly. I gripped her wrist as if I were going to break it, struggling to pry the dagger away. Tangled together in the mud, we looked like enemies desperate to kill one another.
Clang!
Finally, the dagger hit the ground. I pinned her shoulders down and struck her across the face with all my might.
Slap!
The sharp crack broke the silence of the forest. Yeon-woo's head snapped to the side, and her sobbing ceased. Gasping for air, I grabbed her by the collar and hauled her face close to mine. My eyes were a chaotic blur of madness and grief.
"Die? What the hell changes if you die! Do the kids who burned in that storehouse come back to life? No, you just become another lump of rotting meat in this swamp!"
"I'd rather be meat... than live as a monster who sold his soul like you..."
A tear fell from Yeon-woo's vacant eyes and landed on my cheek. It was hot. That warmth stabbed through my cold heart like an ice pick. I shoved her away violently and snatched my rifle off the ground.
"Call me a monster. Spit on me if you want. I don't give a damn. But you are going to live. You have to live as the price for all those lives I've taken, you crazy bitch!"
I stood up, staggering. In the distance, the artillery roared again. War doesn't wait for our tragedies. It was pushing us back into the jaws of death once more, granting us neither time to grieve nor a chance for atonement.
Yeon-woo's head hung limp. Her face, a mess of mud from our recent struggle, was filled with nothing but despair. The dagger I had forcibly snatched from her now sat cold against my waist. I didn't even have the luxury to comfort her grief, for the forest air had suddenly grown oppressively heavy.
"You there. Do not move."
A cold, mechanical voice. Emerging from the darkness of the forest were not the Aran enemies. They were the 'Execution Squad' directly under the Hwan-guk 7th Corps—the so-called Cleaners. Not a single drop of mud stained their silver armor, and their eyes held no comradeship for fellow soldiers, only a razor-sharp murderous intent.
"Lieutenant Kang Jin-hyuk of the 8th Platoon, and Medic Lee Yeon-woo. Is that correct?"
One of the executioners asked dryly, as if checking a list. Instinctively, I stepped in front of Yeon-woo and lowered my barrel. Aiming a weapon at an ally was treason. However, their eyes had already branded us as death row inmates.
"That's right. We lost our unit during the retreat and were searching for a regrouping point."
"Retreat? The word 'retreat' does not exist in our dictionary. Leaving the front line without orders is 'desertion.' And there is only one end for deserters."
The executioner drew his sword. The blade was imbued with the magic of the Holy Relic, casting an ominous purple glow. Yeon-woo sat on the ground, staring vacantly at the scene. To her, it seemed it no longer mattered whether they were friend or foe. This world itself was already hell.
"Fuck, we fought to the bitter end! Half my platoon died in my goddamn arms!"
I roared, but the executioner didn't even flinch.
"Those are merely excuses from cowards who survived by abandoning their comrades. For the crime of tarnishing His Majesty's glory, you shall wash it away with your blood here."
As he raised his hand to give a signal, the riflemen standing behind him locked their aim on us simultaneously. A terror greater than fighting the augmented soldiers of Aran washed over me. The motherland we trusted, the state we risked our lives to protect, was now trying to sweep us away like trash.
The executioner's hand sliced through the air. That signal was a death sentence. The bone-chilling metallic click of fingers tightening over triggers broke the silence.
"Firing squad, fire!"
Bang! Rat-tat-tat!
But a split second before the bullets could pierce our flesh, I snatched Yeon-woo by the waist and threw our bodies to the side. I didn't have the luxury to hesitate over aiming a weapon at my own countrymen. My heart had already been scorched black while dealing with the monsters of Aran.
"You crazy bastards... you're really trying to kill us?!"
I rolled across the ground and readjusted my rifle. Then, I slammed a lead slug into the chest of the Hwan-guk rifleman who had been aiming at me.
Bang!
"Aaargh!"
A scream erupted. It was grotesque—watching the uniform of the nation I had tried to protect become stained crimson by my own bullet. But there was no time for grief. The executioner's purple sword-light sliced through the air, gouging the spot where I had just been.
"Treason! Kang Jin-hyuk, you've finally shown your true colors!"
"Treason? Don't give me that bullshit! If a nation drives its own boys into a slaughterhouse only to shoot them in the back, then I'll be the first one to tear that motherland down!"
I practically hoisted Yeon-woo onto my back and took cover behind a tree. She was still catatonic, clutching my shoulders. Her hands were trembling coldly. I leaned in and hissed into her ear.
"Yeon-woo, snap out of it. If you die here, you're just doing exactly what those bastards want. You have to live... live and show them they were wrong!"
I yanked the safety pin of a grenade with my teeth and hurled it into the center of the execution squad.
Boom—!
The explosion sent a plume of dust into the air. Without missing the opening, I grabbed Yeon-woo's hand and plunged deeper into the darkness of the forest. Behind us, I could hear the executioner's rage-filled roars and the rhythmic thud of pursuit. Now, there was no home to return to. We had become 'ghosts' belonging nowhere—prey for Aran, and traitors to Hwan-guk.