We kill each other to claim what we believe is ours. To settle disputes and carve our names into history. In the end, war is always the solution.
The cycle that never ends. No matter the age, no matter the rulers, the outcome is always the same --death.
The battlefield smelled of iron and mold. The stench of blood mixed with the musty smell of death that was thick to make stomachs churn. The dead corpses were tangled in their broken armor, their lifeless eyes staring into the gray sky.
In the distance, desperate screams - some filled of suffering, others with rage. The clash of swords against armor, spears piercing flesh, and the clash of steel 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 one battle. It continued and consumed everything in its path. I fought, not out of loyalty to the Empire, but because stopping meant death. I fought alongside Andrew, shoulder to shoulder, and watched my comrades fall one by one.
When the final battle was over, when the last enemy fell into the mud, I expected relief. But there was nothing. Only silence. The battlefield was littered with corpses. We won. But victory didn't feel like a triumph, it felt like survival, like another step on a path I never chose.
After our victory in the war, nothing remained as it was. The world shifted, and with it, the empire's priorities. New lands had to be secured, and to maintain order across these newly claimed lands, the empire began to recruit the next generation of soldiers.
Among those who proved themselves on the battlefield, a few soldiers were selected for elite training and inducted into a newly created system, one that is designed to shape them into the backbone of the Empire's future.
Andrew and I were among those chosen. By our names, by our deeds on the battlefield, and also by our very survival, we had earned a place in this new system. The empire saw it as a privilege and a recognition of our accomplishments.
But for me, it was more of a burden. What have we really achieved?
Victory? The war is over. The blood we shed and the lives we took, was 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 rising and moving forward, because that would give me a chance to change this world, who's drowning in endless war, where lives are stolen for the sake of power. I dream of a world without war, without rulers who send men to die like tools. A world where humanity is free.