Chapter 27: Fallen Heroes
The skies overhead were streaked with angry shades of orange and red, remnants of a bloodied sunset as night descended over the battlefield. Alex's heart pounded in her chest, her breath ragged as she surveyed the grim scene in front of her. Bodies littered the ground—some familiar, others mere shadows in the fading light. The smell of ash and blood hung thick in the air, choking her with each inhalation.
She had agreed to this. She had let Gabriel push them toward this reckless assault, letting his relentless fury override Ethan's cautious strategy. Now, they stood among the wreckage of their choices, and there was no turning back.
Ethan, bloodied but standing, turned toward her, his face contorted in anger and grief. "This is what you wanted?" His voice was low but cutting, filled with a quiet intensity that made Alex's stomach churn. "Look at them, Alex. Look at the people who died because of this."
Alex swallowed, her throat tight as she glanced down at the bodies of their fallen comrades. Among them was Lia, her once bright eyes now dull, staring lifelessly into the sky. Only a day ago, Lia had been joking with her, teasing her about how serious she'd become. Now, she was just another casualty of Gabriel's ambition.
"It wasn't supposed to go this way," Alex whispered, more to herself than to Ethan. But the words felt hollow, even as she said them.
Gabriel, who stood a few paces away, wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression unreadable. "You don't get to blame this on me, Ethan." His voice was harsh, carrying an edge of cold detachment that sent a shiver down Alex's spine. "Everyone here knew the risks."
"They didn't have to die!" Ethan roared, stepping forward until he was inches from Gabriel's face. The tension between them crackled like the static before a storm, and for a brief moment, Alex feared they would come to blows.
Gabriel remained still, his gaze steely and unflinching. "This is war. People die."
"That's not an excuse." Ethan's voice wavered with grief, and Alex could see the deep pain in his eyes, the hurt that went far beyond the loss of their friends. "You don't care, do you? You never cared about them. All you wanted was your damn revenge."
Gabriel's jaw clenched, but he didn't respond. His silence was answer enough.
Alex's stomach twisted in knots. She had always known there was darkness inside Gabriel, but this—this ruthless, detached version of him—felt foreign, terrifying. She wanted to scream at him, to make him see what they had lost, but the words wouldn't come.
Ethan turned to Alex, his gaze softening slightly, but the accusation in his eyes was still there. "You could've stopped this," he said quietly. "You should've stopped this."
The weight of his words settled heavily on her chest. She had been torn between them, between the burning fury of Gabriel and the steady caution of Ethan. She had wanted to believe that they could strike a balance, that they could make it out without losing anyone. But that had been naive.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the nearby fires. But sorry wasn't enough. It wouldn't bring Lia back. It wouldn't erase the devastation before them.
Gabriel scoffed, shaking his head as he looked at her. "Sorry doesn't change anything. We move forward."
But Ethan wasn't ready to let it go. "Move forward? After this?"
Alex could see the way Ethan's fists clenched, the way his muscles tensed as if ready to fight. The air between them thickened with unresolved tension, each of them standing at the edge of a precipice, one wrong move away from disaster.
"I don't know what the fuck you're after, Gabriel," Ethan said, voice low but deadly, "but you're not dragging us all down into your spiral of destruction."
Gabriel's eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous, and for a moment, Alex feared what would come next. But instead, he just smiled—a cold, calculating smile that sent a shiver through her.
"You can walk away, Ethan," Gabriel said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "But we both know you won't. Not yet."
The challenge was clear in his tone, and Alex knew that Ethan felt it too. He was too deeply tied to this now—too invested in the fight, in Alex. Walking away wasn't an option. Not anymore.
But Ethan didn't respond. Instead, he turned and stormed off, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the ruined camp. Alex watched him go, her heart heavy with guilt and regret. She wanted to follow him, to say something, to fix this—but she didn't know how.
Gabriel's voice broke through her thoughts, cool and detached. "He'll get over it."
Alex turned to him, her fists clenched at her sides. "Will you?"
Gabriel's gaze flicked to hers, his expression hard. "I don't have the luxury of getting over anything, Alex."
His words hung in the air between them, a reminder of the path he had chosen—the path they were all now forced to walk. There was no room for remorse, no room for regret. They were too far gone for that.
But as Alex stood among the bodies of her fallen friends, the bitter taste of loss still fresh on her tongue, she couldn't help but wonder if they had already lost more than they could ever hope to gain.
The war wasn't over, but the battle had cost them dearly. And as the darkness closed in around them, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that they were headed toward something far worse.
In the distance, a low rumble echoed through the night, a sound that sent a chill down Alex's spine. Something was coming. Something far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated.