The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, the setting sun casting a warm glow over Ava's estate. The grounds, once a symbol of serenity and opulence, were now a stark reminder of the recent chaos. Scattered debris and the scent of smoke lingered in the air, a testament to the fierce battle they had barely survived.
Ava stood at the edge of what used to be her pristine garden, now marred by the footprints of destruction. Her hands, calloused and scarred, clenched the railing of the balcony as she surveyed the damage. The once vibrant flowers were trampled, the marble statues chipped and broken.
"Is this what victory looks like?" Ava muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jonah, her loyal confidant and strategist, approached quietly, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of her emotions. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Victory always comes with a price, Ava. But we're alive. We can rebuild."
