**Flashback - Zadkiel, 10 years old**
The city, once peaceful and vibrant, was now engulfed in chaos. The sound of clashing metal, the marching of soldiers, and the distant cries of terrified citizens filled the air. Young **Zadkiel**, barely ten, ran through the crowded streets, dodging panicked townsfolk as he hurried toward the mayor's home. His small legs carried him as fast as they could, fear gripping his heart.
**Soldiers**, clad in armor, stormed through the streets, shields and spears raised high as they forced their way into shops and homes. They banged on doors, demanding supplies for the war effort, their faces stern and unforgiving. People offered food, clothing, anything they had, but it never seemed enough.
At the inn, **the innkeeper**, a kind old man who had always treated Zadkiel like a son, had bent down to his level and grabbed his shoulders firmly.
**Innkeeper**: "Zadkiel, you need to go home. Now! Get to your family, boy. It's not safe here anymore!"
Fear flashed across the old man's face, something Zadkiel had never seen before. He didn't understand why this was happening, but he obeyed.
Zadkiel took off running, his heart pounding in his chest as he sprinted through the smoke-filled streets. He narrowly avoided soldiers as they pulled people from their homes, and he could hear their shouts demanding more supplies, more tribute for the war. The once peaceful city was now a battlefield in itself, as soldiers raided without mercy.
As Zadkiel rounded the last corner, his eyes fixed on the large house of the **mayor**, his breath came in short gasps. The mayor's home was in chaos too, but somehow, it stood taller than the destruction around it.
Zadkiel burst through the door, eyes wide with panic. The **mayor**, his **wife**, and their **children** were huddled together in the central hall, fear etched across their faces.
The **mayor's wife**, seeing Zadkiel, rushed to him and held him tightly.
**Mayor's Wife**: "Zadkiel, thank the gods you're safe!"
The **mayor**, his face grim, stood by the window, peering out as the soldiers continued their ruthless assault on the city.
**Mayor**: "The army demands more than we have… They'll burn this city to the ground if we don't comply."
Zadkiel looked up at him, confused, terrified.
**Zadkiel**: "But… why? Why are they doing this?"
The **mayor** knelt in front of him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.
**Mayor**: "The war, my boy. It's spreading. We've been spared for a long time, but now… it's here. This is what happens when kingdoms go to war."
Zadkiel, unable to fully grasp the magnitude of the situation, clung to the **mayor's wife**, feeling the fear of the adults around him seep into his bones.
Outside, the shouts of soldiers grew louder, closer, and the sound of something burning filled the air. The city was falling, and all Zadkiel could do was watch, helpless and afraid.
The once beautiful city, his home, was being torn apart, and the peaceful life he had known was slipping away.
**Flashback - The Fall of the City**
The mansion was surrounded. **Soldiers**, heavily armed and battle-hardened, formed a tight perimeter, their armor gleaming under the dim light of the setting sun. In front of the mansion, they lined up **women, men, elderly, and children**, their hands bound, faces pale with terror. The tension in the air was thick, and the cries of those captured cut through the otherwise silent scene.
At the front of the line, a **sergeant**, a grim-faced man with a jagged scar across his cheek, stood tall. He raised his sword high, its blade stained from previous bloodshed. His voice boomed through the streets, echoing off the walls of the burning city.
**Sergeant**: "Mayor! Bring yourself and your family out! If you don't comply, we will begin executing the civilians. One by one!"
Inside the mansion, **Zadkiel**, the **mayor**, and his family froze in horror as the sergeant's voice reached their ears. The **mayor's wife** gasped, clutching her children tighter, and the **mayor** himself staggered backward, knowing he was powerless against the army outside.
**Zadkiel**'s heart pounded in his chest as he looked up at the **mayor**. Desperation filled the air, thick and suffocating.
**Zadkiel**: "We… we have to do something…"
The **mayor** shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. He was trapped—surrender meant death, and resistance would lead to the massacre of everyone he cared about.
Outside, the sergeant's patience ran thin. He turned toward the soldiers beside him, his face twisted in cruel satisfaction.
**Sergeant**: "Begin."
The **innkeeper**, the kind old man who had cared for Zadkiel, was the first to be dragged forward. His face, normally warm with a smile, was now pale with fear. He stood trembling as the sergeant's blade rested on his shoulder.
**Innkeeper**: "Please... my family... no—"
Before the innkeeper could finish, the **sergeant** swung his sword. The blade sliced clean through his neck, severing his head from his body in one brutal, merciless stroke. Blood sprayed out in a wide arc, staining the ground red. The **innkeeper**'s headless body collapsed, twitching as a pool of blood formed beneath him.
Inside, **Zadkiel** flinched, tears welling up in his eyes as he saw the fate of the man who had been like a father to him. He clung to the **mayor's wife**, trembling uncontrollably.
One by one, the soldiers began pulling more civilians forward. A **young mother**, barely holding herself together, was next. She cried out, clutching her child to her chest.
**Mother**: "Please! No! My child—!"
The sergeant's blade came down again, cutting through the woman's neck, blood spurting like a fountain. Her **child**, no more than five years old, screamed in terror, but it was silenced as another soldier stepped in and cut the child down with brutal efficiency. The tiny body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
The soldiers laughed as they continued their **bloody work**, dragging the **elderly** and **young children** alike to their deaths. **Heads rolled**, **limbs were severed**, and **blood pooled** beneath the feet of the soldiers. The **air stank of death**, and the terrified screams of those still waiting their turn filled the night.
The **sergeant** grinned, wiping blood from his blade.
**Sergeant**: "How long will you hide, Mayor? Your people are dying."
More **civilians**, some **elders** and **teenagers**, were lined up next. Their faces were streaked with dirt and tears, their expressions ones of hopelessness. **A teenage boy**, barely older than Zadkiel, was shoved forward.
The boy stared defiantly at the sergeant, but that bravery crumbled as the sword was raised above him. The sergeant's blade came down swiftly, cutting into the boy's shoulder and splitting him in half. The boy's upper body slid to the ground, blood spurting from the torn flesh as his lower half toppled moments later.
The **mayor** couldn't watch any longer. His body shook as the guilt of staying inside consumed him.
**Mayor**: "We… we have to surrender…"
But it was too late for reason. The slaughter had already begun, and the soldiers showed no signs of stopping. Every second that passed meant more innocent lives lost—more blood staining the streets of the once-peaceful city.
**Zadkiel** stood frozen, watching the death of everyone he had known. His heart was heavy with fear and confusion. The world he had known was crumbling before his very eyes, and the blood of those he cared about covered the earth.
The **sergeant** smiled darkly, his sword gleaming under the light of the flames consuming the city, as he continued his massacre without hesitation.
**Sergeant**: "Come out now, or this entire city will fall into ruin."
The **mayor**'s family huddled together in the mansion, their fear palpable. The **sergeant** stood outside, his patience wearing thin, his men still lined up, swords and spears at the ready. His grin was twisted, predatory.
**Sergeant**: "I'll count to three, Mayor. If you don't bring that wife of yours down so we can have some fun with her, we'll finish off every last one of these civilians. One... two…"
The **mayor** gripped his wife tightly, and their children sobbed quietly, terror-stricken. They all knew that even if they complied, there was no guarantee of survival.
Meanwhile, outside, another brutal scene unfolded. Civilians continued to fall to the soldiers' blades—bodies piling up in heaps. The **innkeeper**, the **young mother**, and the **child** were already dead, and the number of fallen kept growing.
**Sergeant**: "Three!"
Before the sergeant could give another order, **Zadkiel** stepped out from the mansion. His small, **childlike frame** seemed frail against the backdrop of bloodshed, but his eyes burned with a fire that belied his youth.
He walked forward, unafraid, directly toward the **sergeant** and his men.
**Zadkiel**: "Stop."
The **sergeant** barely glanced at him, uninterested in the child's command. He waved his hand dismissively.
**Sergeant**: "Kill him."
A group of **soldiers**, heavily armored and armed with **spears and swords**, rushed toward Zadkiel, their weapons drawn. They surrounded him quickly, confident that this young boy posed no threat. Zadkiel looked down at the ground, his small fists clenching, his body trembling—not from fear, but from a dark, unexplainable **rage** that began to consume him.
He mumbled something under his breath, so softly that only the wind could hear him.
**Zadkiel**: "...kill."
Without warning, his body moved. Faster than the soldiers could react, Zadkiel **grabbed a nearby soldier's spear** and, with a strength that defied his appearance, **threw it** with deadly precision. The spear **impaled** another soldier, piercing through his chest and lifting him off his feet before slamming him into the ground, lifeless.
The soldiers barely had time to react before Zadkiel **grabbed a sword** from a fallen man, the blade gleaming as he swung it with practiced ease. He moved like a whirlwind, slicing through **flesh and bone** as he **decapitated** the first soldier to approach him. The man's head rolled across the ground, leaving a trail of blood behind.
The soldiers' cries of pain and confusion echoed in the air as Zadkiel **blocked an incoming arrow** with the flat of his sword. His movements were precise, as if he had been fighting for years. In a fluid motion, he caught one of the arrows mid-air and **threw it back**, embedding it into the throat of the archer who had fired it. The archer collapsed, choking on his own blood.
More soldiers rushed forward, but Zadkiel was relentless. He grabbed a fallen **shield**, using it not just for defense, but as a weapon. With an unearthly strength, he hurled the shield like a disk, and it crashed into a **spearman**, cutting through his torso with such force that his upper body was **severed from his lower body** in a brutal display of power.
Blood splattered everywhere, and bodies began to pile up around him as Zadkiel continued his assault. His childlike appearance now contrasted sharply with the **carnage** he was causing. His face remained emotionless, but his eyes—his eyes were filled with something dark, something terrifying.
The **sergeant** watched in shock as his men were slaughtered by this child. His confident smirk had faded, replaced by a look of disbelief and growing fear.
**Sergeant**: "What… what the hell is this?!"
Zadkiel continued his massacre, his sword a blur of motion as he **cut through armor**, **flesh**, and **bone**. He was unstoppable, a force of nature born of rage and pain. Every strike was lethal, every movement precise and deadly.
As the last of the soldiers fell, their blood soaking the earth beneath them, Zadkiel stood amidst the **corpses**, his small body covered in their blood. His chest heaved with each breath, but his expression remained cold, detached, as if the massacre he had just committed was nothing more than routine.
The battlefield was silent now, save for the distant crackling of fire from the burning city. The **sergeant**, the once-confident leader, stood frozen, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Zadkiel turned his gaze toward him, the sword still gripped tightly in his hand, dripping with blood.
**Zadkiel**: "You'll regret what you did."
The sergeant took a step back, trembling, as he realized that this child—this boy—was no ordinary being. He had unleashed something far more dangerous than he could have ever imagined.
**Sergeant**: "Get away from me, monster!"
In a panic, the **sergeant** swung his sword wildly, desperation clouding his judgment. But **Zadkiel**, fueled by a combination of rage and fear, reacted instinctively. He dodged the wild swings and with a swift motion, **cut down the sergeant** in a single, fluid strike. The man's body fell to the ground, lifeless, joining the other fallen soldiers.
Zadkiel stood amidst the carnage, panting heavily, his small frame drenched in the blood and guts of his enemies. He had saved the civilians, but the horror of his actions weighed heavily on him. He turned and ran back toward the mansion, where he could see the **mayor** and his family huddled together, their faces pale with shock.
As he approached, the family looked at him in horror, their eyes wide as they took in his bloodied appearance.
**Zadkiel**: "I'm so glad you guys are safe!"
But instead of relief, the **mayor's** expression twisted in fear and disgust.
**Mayor**: "Get away from us, you monster!"
**Mayor's Wife**: "Please, just let us leave!"
Zadkiel felt a pang of hurt and confusion. He opened his mouth to explain, to assure them he was not a monster but a protector, but his words faltered as he saw their expressions of fear.
Before he could say anything further, the **mayor**, overwhelmed by terror and the chaos of the day, suddenly drew a dagger from his belt. His eyes were wild, and without warning, he plunged the blade into his wife's heart.
**Mayor's Wife**: "No! What are you doing?!"
Her scream was cut short as the life faded from her eyes. In a moment of madness, the **mayor** turned the dagger on his children, stabbing them as they cried out in fear.
**Zadkiel**: "No! Stop!"
But it was too late. The children fell lifelessly to the ground, and the mayor, consumed by grief and insanity, turned the blade on himself, plunging it deep into his own chest.
As he collapsed beside his family, Zadkiel stood frozen in shock, his heart pounding in his chest. The realization of what had just happened crashed over him like a wave.
He had saved them from soldiers but had become a monster in their eyes. In his desperate attempt to protect, he had inadvertently caused their deaths.
He fell to his knees, the weight of his actions crashing down on him, and stared at the blood-soaked ground. The echo of their screams haunted him as he realized that the innocent, loving brother he once was had been irrevocably changed.
**Zadkiel**: (whispering) "What have I done?"
The battlefield lay silent around him, but the horror of that day would forever resonate in his heart.
The scene around **Zadkiel** was chaotic. The **mayor's two kids**, consumed by grief and anger, charged at him with whatever they could find—sticks and rocks in their small hands. They blamed him for the horrific fate that had befallen their family.
**Kid 1**: "You monster! We'll kill you!"
**Kid 2**: "Get away from us!"
Zadkiel instinctively dodged their frantic attacks, desperately trying to avoid causing them any harm. Each time they lunged at him, he sidestepped and, with a swift motion, knocked them out with just enough force to render them unconscious, all while muttering apologies.
**Zadkiel**: "I'm so sorry! I didn't want this to happen!"
As the kids fell to the ground, their expressions of rage twisted into looks of betrayal.
**Kid 1**: "We'll make you pay!"
Their words echoed in his mind, leaving him feeling hollow. He couldn't bear to look back at their fallen forms. He turned to leave the city, tears streaming down his cheeks, a deep sense of shame gnawing at him.
As he made his way through the streets, the citizens of the town had gathered, and their anger was palpable. They hurled rocks and insults at him, blaming him for the deaths of their loved ones.
**Citizen**: "Get out of here, you killer!"
**Another Citizen**: "You're not welcome here!"
Each stone that struck him felt like a dagger in his heart, but he didn't fight back. Instead, he lowered his head and continued walking, the cries of the townsfolk ringing in his ears. The once-peaceful city that had embraced him was now a place of scorn and hostility.
As he reached the outskirts, he paused to take one last look at the city. The memories of laughter, warmth, and acceptance were now replaced with the haunting images of violence and loss.
**Zadkiel**: (to himself) "I didn't mean to hurt anyone… I just wanted to protect you all."
With a heavy heart, he walked away, knowing he could never return.