War.

They'll tell you it's about justice, about protecting your home, your family, your people. They'll paint banners of honor and sing songs of glory, but in truth, war is nothing but ash and ruin, no matter which side you stand on.

I used to believe in it—this idea of a "right side." I thought there were lines drawn in blood and steel that separated heroes from monsters. But when the fires fade and the smoke clears, the only thing left standing is regret.

In war, there are no victors. Only survivors who carry the weight of what they've done. The flags you fought under, the ideals you bled for—they mean nothing when you're staring at the bodies of those you couldn't save. Your enemies, your allies, your loved ones... they all end up in the same grave.

I see that now. I see the faces of the people I failed to protect, the lives I destroyed trying to justify my revenge. I fought to bring justice to a world drowning in chaos, but all I ever did was add more fuel to the fire.

if you're reading this, I hope you don't repeat the same mistakes I did.

Because in the end, all war leaves you with is a broken star.