Their teeth parted and gasped for air, even as laughter erupted with each breath. They were taking in life, releasing their carbon dioxide, but the air was tinged with blood and violence. It was haunting—a chorus of laughing killers. Their gums contracted with each cackle, their tongues lolling out as if mocking life itself. Each smile, each laugh, felt like a taunt, a signal, an acceptance of what they'd become.
Ryuji stared at them, gripping his sheathed sword so tightly his knuckles turned white. Their laughter echoed, raw and unrelenting, as they bragged about their conquests, their victories over innocent farmers, families that had only tried to survive. His stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising within him. How could they be so unbothered by it all, so numb to the cruelty they wrought?
What am I doing here? he thought bitterly. Why did I join this expedition? To prove myself? To become one of them?
