"Monsters are not born. They are made—by loss, by pain, by the unbearable weight of a broken soul."
The world was burning.
But inside Rei, there was only silence.
Alistair lay crumpled in the dirt, his once-pristine armor shattered, golden blood seeping from the deep gash across his chest. His breaths came in ragged, shuddering gasps, each one slower than the last.
Rei stood over him, his obsidian blade dripping with divine ichor.
The air was thick with the stench of burning flesh, the acrid tang of steel and charred earth. The ruins around them crumbled, their shadows twisting in the flickering glow of dying flames.
Everything should have felt satisfying.
But all Rei could feel was the crushing weight in his chest.
"It's over."
He should have walked away. Turned his back and let the embers consume the battlefield.
But his feet wouldn't move.
Because behind him, just a few feet away—Aya's body lay still.
And suddenly, the fire in his veins didn't feel like power anymore.
It felt like suffocation.
The Sound of Nothing
Rei turned, his vision blurring as he staggered toward her. His knees hit the dirt beside her small frame.
Her blood had already begun to darken, seeping into the cracked earth. Her hair was matted with dust, her fragile hands still curled like she had been reaching for something.
For him.
Rei swallowed, but his throat was raw, every breath scraping against the jagged edge of something he couldn't name.
Carefully, almost too gently, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her skin was still warm. Still warm.
The world was unbearably quiet.
No more steel clashing. No more fire raging. No more desperate gasps of breath from a girl who had clung to life despite everything.
Just the sound of his own heartbeat.
Slow. Too slow. Like it was trying to stop with her.
Rei exhaled.
But it came out as a shudder.
The Breaking of a Man
"She was just a kid."
The thought came like a knife through his ribs, twisting deep, sinking into something tender and unguarded.
She had laughed just days ago, sitting beside him near the ruins of a fallen cathedral, her voice bright even in the darkness of their world.
She had asked him questions. So many questions.
"Do you think people are born good or bad?"
"If we could just leave, would you go somewhere with lots of trees? I want to see real trees."
"You think I'll make it, right? I have to make it. You promised, Rei."
He had promised.
And now—
"Now she's just another body in the dirt."
Rei clenched his jaw, a sharp, bitter taste flooding his mouth. His chest ached—not from exhaustion, not from his wounds, but from the sheer weight of failure pressing down on him like a collapsing sky.
He had lost comrades before. Seen friends die.
But this—this felt different.
Because Aya had never asked for this war.
She had just wanted to live.
And he had failed her.
Something inside him fractured.
A Flicker of Guilt in a Dying Man's Eyes
A choked, wet cough broke the silence.
Rei didn't turn, but he felt Alistair's presence behind him. The slow, dying breath of a man who had once been his brother.
"You… were never meant to… protect her."
The words were strained, labored, but they still struck like a blade.
Rei's grip tightened around his sword.
His voice, when he spoke, was quiet. Too quiet.
"And who decided that?"
Alistair didn't answer.
Maybe because he didn't have an answer. Maybe because he was finally realizing—too late—that this wasn't justice.
This was just another corpse for the cause.
Rei turned his head slightly, just enough to see the faint flicker of something—regret? doubt?—in Alistair's dimming golden eyes.
For the first time, the Holy Knight looked uncertain.
It wasn't enough.
It would never be enough.
A Blade That No Longer Knew Where to Cut
Rei exhaled, long and slow.
He should have lifted his sword. Should have ended Alistair here and now. Should have carved the same merciless fate into the man who had taken everything from him.
But his hands wouldn't move.
Not because of mercy. There was none left in him.
It was because, in this moment, with Aya's lifeless body beside him—what did revenge even matter anymore?
Killing Alistair wouldn't bring her back.
Nothing would.
His fingers trembled, just slightly, before they let go of the hilt. His sword fell beside him with a dull, lifeless clang.
Alistair let out a slow, painful breath, but Rei didn't look at him anymore.
He just stared down at Aya.
A Broken Prayer to an Absent God
His hands hovered over her small frame, unsure.
What was he supposed to do? Lay her to rest? Close her eyes? Say something?
No one had ever taught him what to do when the only thing worth saving was already gone.
His chest tightened, his breath coming uneven. His fingers curled into fists against the dirt.
"If we could just leave, would you go somewhere with lots of trees?"
Rei squeezed his eyes shut.
A shaky exhale.
Then, barely above a whisper, a voice that didn't sound like his own:
"I'm sorry."
The words felt empty.
Because Aya would never hear them.
And the world kept burning.