The sky wails, shedding tears of blood as she watches her children die.
The ground has stopped breathing, suffocating all that dares inhale her air. And Death mourns the loss of life.
"Is it over?"
Reinhard screams at the heavens, his voice raw, his body barely holding together.
Silence.
He falls to his knees.
"I have done it… Oh, dear lord, I really did it…"
His voice cracks as if he's about to weep, but no tears come. His hands tremble, his breath uneven. He has done the impossible—yet there is no joy in his expression, only doubt.
A distant thumping. A legion marches closer.
Reinhard turns his head to the west, where the sun bleeds over the horizon. A lone scout stands atop the hill, eyes widening.
"There! I see the hero! He's injured—come quick!"
Reinhard turns away.
Why? Only he knows.
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