The city was quiet, the kind of eerie silence that comes after a storm, when the world holds its breath, unsure of what comes next. Elara moved through the streets slowly, her body aching from the strain of the battle. It had been three days since they'd closed the rift, and while the immediate threat had been neutralized, the sense of unease lingered in the air like a heavy mist.
As she walked through the ruins, Elara saw the toll the fight had taken. Buildings that once stood tall were now reduced to charred rubble. The streets, once bustling with life, were now littered with debris and the remnants of battle. Survivors moved quietly through the city, working to rebuild but their faces etched with exhaustion and grief.
"We've been here before," Elara thought to herself, her eyes sweeping over the devastation. The memory of past battles weighed heavily on her, and for a moment, she wondered how many more times they could rise from the ashes.
"Commander."
