Diego, with his eyes closed, listened to the screams and pleas filling the air.
"No! Please!"
"Don't kill me!"
"Don't kill her, she's just a child!"
"You bastards, you will burn in hell for this!"
The desperate voices gradually faded as the lives of the few survivors of the explosion and collision were extinguished. Diego heard footsteps approaching. With his eyes still closed and bearing the weight of the structure, he continued to feign death.
"Make sure there are no survivors," commented a voice in a cold tone.
"Yes, captain," replied a man a few meters from Diego. "I will leave no one alive, rest assured, captain," the man confirmed, mere inches from where Diego lay.
Diego knew him well. He knew his appearance and who he was without needing to open his eyes. It was Pirlo, one of the lower-ranking enforcers belonging to the Hunting Order, an agency of direct action that was part of the organizational structure of the Imperials. This radical organization sought the restoration of a monarchical regime and was composed mostly of sons and daughters of the old ducal houses, now turned into extreme terrorists.
Pirlo's steps were firm and sure, the cruelty of his mission reflected in every movement. Diego felt the proximity of the enforcer, the latent danger of being discovered. The Hunting Order left no loose ends, and Pirlo was especially meticulous in his work. The silence among the diminishing screams became more oppressive with every second.
Pirlo began to check the nearby bodies, ensuring there were no signs of life. Diego kept his breathing controlled, his body still, and his thoughts focused on the next move. Every passing second was a mix of tension and determination. He knew that a single mistake could mean his end.
The enforcer approached closer, checking the bodies with ruthless precision. Diego could feel Pirlo's gaze sweeping over him, but he did not move an inch. After an eternity, Pirlo moved on, convinced that Diego was just another corpse among the debris.
When Pirlo's steps moved away, Diego slightly opened his eyes, assessing the situation. The risk was not over yet.
"It's time to leave, the White Army's dogs have arrived. Be ready to break if necessary. Do not get caught," ordered the captain in an authoritative voice.
"At your command, captain."
"Yes, captain."
Diego, still under the stifling weight of the structure, heard the command and the affirmative responses from the Hunters. His mind began to drift as the sounds of a fierce fight were heard in the background. The White Army had arrived.
The clash of swords, gunfire, and battle cries mixed into a chaotic din. Diego, feeling fatigue take over his body, let out a sigh of relief. He knew that the White Army, an elite force dedicated to fighting the Imperials, was doing everything possible to neutralize the threat. The weight of the structure pressed against his body, and the adrenaline that had kept his mind alert began to fade.
As the sounds of the battle intensified, Diego closed his eyes. The sensation of immediate danger faded, and in its place, an overwhelming fatigue enveloped him. He could afford this moment of vulnerability, knowing that the soldiers of the White Army were there to protect him, even if just for a brief moment.
His thoughts became hazy, and the sounds of the fight seemed to drift away slowly. In his mind, he glimpsed images of his mission, his past failures, and the hopes he still held. Each memory blended with reality, creating a collage of emotions and determinations.
Finally, exhaustion overcame his resistance, and Diego slipped into unconsciousness, knowing he had done everything possible to change his fate. The wrecked carriage and bodies scattered around him became the backdrop for his last attempt at redemption, while the echoes of the battle continued to resonate in the distance.