The battlefield lay in ruins, a grim testament to the violence that had unfolded. Smoke curled into the sky, carrying with it the acrid scent of burnt flesh and charred earth. Bodies, broken and bloodied, were strewn across the ground, the silent remnants of lives once vibrant, now extinguished in the ferocity of war. Ava stood amidst the devastation, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she surveyed the aftermath. The victory they had fought so hard to achieve felt hollow, a bitter taste that lingered on her tongue.
Her allies were scattered, some tending to the wounded, others staring blankly into the distance, lost in the trauma of what they had endured. Ava could see the weight of the battle pressing down on them, their shoulders slumped with exhaustion, their faces etched with pain. The cost had been high—too high. The stronghold that had once seemed invincible now lay in ruins, but at what price? How many lives had been sacrificed for this so-called victory?
