~Roy
We kill each other to claim what we believe is ours. We do it to settle disputes and carve our names into history. In the end, war is always the solution.
It's a cycle that never ends. No matter the era or the rulers, the outcome is always the same: death.
The battlefield reeked of iron and mold. The stench of blood mingled with the musty odor of death, thick enough to make stomachs churn. Dead bodies were tangled in broken armor, their eyes staring into the gray sky.
In the distance came desperate screams, some filled with suffering and others with rage. The clash of swords against armor and spears piercing flesh rang out.
I stood in the midst of it, blade in hand, surrounded by corpses, some enemies, some allies. It made no difference. In war, the ground drinks the blood of all the same.
"ROY!"
A voice cut through the chaos; it was Andrew. My brother.
I turned my head just as he rushed toward me, his heavy sword dripping with blood. "We're pushing them back!" he shouted over the deafening noise of war. "This is it! We're winning!"
Winning?
I exhaled, my breath visible in the cold air. The war between the empire of Devotion and empire of Polon had raged for years, but now, at last, it was over. The Polon forces were in complete retreat, their banners torn, their soldiers crushed.
With this final battle, one of the six great empires had ceased to exist. Devote had declared victory, and devoured Polon entirely... Its land, its people, and its history. Now, only five empires remained.
With Polon gone, Devot had become the largest empire on the map. The strongest. The most feared.
But what did it matter?
Nothing had changed. The world still bled. The war had ended, but another would take its place soon. It always did.
In a world like this, humanity must live in both love and hate. Love alone leads to weakness. Hate alone leads to destruction. To survive, you must balance both of them.
But I wanted something more than survival.
But dreams don't change the world. Power and Actions do.
Love alone cannot reshape history; it is too fragile, easily broken.
I put my emotions aside. I cannot even remember the last time I laughed. The last time I cried.
There is no room for weakness in a world where power is rewarded, any fragility is punishable. This was the lesson I learned over and over again.
The war did not end with just one battle. It continued, consuming everything in its path. I fought not out of loyalty to the Empire but because stopping meant death. I fought alongside Andrew, side by side, and watched my comrades fall one by one.
When the final battle ended and the last enemy fell, I expected to feel relief. But there was nothing. Only silence remained. The battlefield was littered with corpses. We won. However, victory didn't feel triumphant; it felt like survival, like another step on a path I never chose.
After our victory in the war, nothing remained the same. The world shifted, as did the empire's priorities. New lands had to be secured. To maintain order across these newly claimed lands, the Empire began recruiting the next generation of soldiers.
A few soldiers who proved themselves on the battlefield were selected for elite training and inducted into a newly created system designed to shape them into the backbone of the empire's future.
Andrew and I were among those chosen. Through our names, our battlefield achievements, and our survival, we had earned a place in this new system. The Empire considered it a privilege and a recognition of our accomplishments.
For me, though, it was more of a burden. What had we really achieved?
Victory? The war is over. The blood we shed and the lives we took were just another chapter in an endless cycle.
Nothing has changed. The world is still demanding more soldiers, more battles, more sacrifices.
I should have felt something. Relief, pride—anything. But there was nothing. Just emptiness.
I had to keep moving forward, keep rising, because that would give me a chance to change this world drowning in endless war where lives are stolen for the sake of power. I dream of a world without war or rulers who send men to die like tools. A world where humanity is free.