The chilly winds howled as the sun vanished behind thick clouds, casting an ominous gloom over the battlefield. Captain Ayush and his men stood frozen for a moment, their breath visible in the frigid air.
The dimmed sunlight seemed to fade even further as they watched in grim silence as the enemy forces surged forth from their citadel in disciplined rows, each line numbering in the hundreds.
Beads of sweat formed on Ayush's men's foreheads despite the cold as they watched the enemy amass for the final assault. Clad in thick military jackets, their figures shifted slightly under the force of the wind. The pressure was intense.
As tension tightened its grip, Ayush's mind drifted into the past. Flashes of memory surged through him—the night his home burned, the screams of his family as rebels slaughtered them, the despair of his own helpless escape.
