Everywhere Dae looked, he saw fallen comrades—some screaming in pain, others already dead.bAnd yet, the dead might have been the lucky ones. For the survivors were left in states no one would wish upon even an enemy. Dae rose to his feet. Compared to the others, he was fine - Maybe just lucky? He wore a dark green military uniform, soaked in dirt, sweat, and blood. None of it was his. The ground was torn apart. The vehicles shattered. And whatever remained of the inventor was unrecognizable. Dae stood still. Then slowly turned, surveying the ruins around him.
'Fuck,' he muttered. 'They got us good. We—'
'Sir!' a soldier appeared from his side, camouflaged. His body was covered in burns, yet somehow, he remained on his feet. 'We got a response!' The soldier was holding a radio. Seeing how his veins were on the verge of popping that radio, the size of small table, must have weighed a lot.
'And?' Dae's eyes locked on the radio the soldier carried. Without waiting for an answer, he reached out, and the soldier handed him the device.
'Fifteen minutes,' a voice crackled through the static. 'Hold out fifteen minutes and help will' - The line went dead.
'Fifteen minutes!' a soldier shouted. 'We'll be long dead before that! What are these fuckers smoking. Damn whatever they are smoking I could need some!'
'The enemy is closing in!' another added. 'Half our squad is dead, the other half hanging on by a thread and they want us to wait fifteen damn minutes? We are done for!' He crunched down and smashed his fist into the dirt.
All around, soldiers lowered their heads. Some clutched their wounds. Others curled in silence. Though their responses varied, the look in their eyes was the same:
terror. And despair. Some had already made peace with death
'I can't die yet…' whispered one soldier, leaning against a boulder.
One leg was gone, both arms useless. Half his face had burned away; the other half was soaked in tears. 'My wife and children… huuuhuh… Since this beginning we were dommed to die. As if we were sent right into the death!' He pressed his mangled hand to what remained of his face. Only Dae stood. He stood at the centre of it all, absorbing the pain and panic of those around him. Yet, even standing took all he had. His legs shuddered and here and there he was about to collapse but he rose up again. Not now! He could bow shows weakness. Though physically intact, his body trembled with fatigue. He was drenched in sweat, his pulse erratic. He was exhausted.
But he stood. Tall. Firm. Unmoving—like a mountain in the storm. His hands clenched into fists. His eyes hardened. He took a deep breath— and exhaled all the weight in his lungs. Then he roared:
'Listen! No one dies today!' His voice pierced the air like a bullet. One by one, heads rose. Some soldiers even staggered back to their feet. At that very moment, the clouds broke—
and the full moon cast its silver light across the field. And where the moonlight shone the brightest, stood Dae. Alive with confidence. Burning with defiance. 'As long as I'm standing,' he shouted, scanning their faces, 'no more lives will be lost. I will take you home—to your families, your friends, your country. So rise, my soldiers! The battle is not over!'
'Hahahah!' A dry, amused laugh broke out. An old man among the wounded pushed himself upright. 'So you're finally back, hero! Took you long enough!' Murmurs stirred the silence.
Soldiers exchanged stunned glances. The old man went on: 'Young fellas—trust this man.
If he says he'll take you home, he will. These eyes… It's been a long time since I've seen them— the eyes of our hero. The eyes of the Warlord himself. And suddenly, as if pain no longer existed, soldiers shot to their feet.
'The Warlord…' The words echoed among them. Hope replaced dread. Despair faded. Excitement rose like a tide. Darkened faces lit up. And shattered morale was rebuilt. The Warlord had returned. And he was far from defeated.