The morning sun slowly brightened the smoke-filled sky above Eldham. However, its rays could not erase the display below.
Yesterday's flames were now extinguished, leaving behind a scarred landscape: charred and splintered houses, caved-in barns, and rice fields now laid blackened and ruined.
Unlike the night before, a semblance of order had been restored. The bodies of the dead were now laid out in the center of the village and families moved around, checking who'd lost their lives and who had survived. Some wept openly and their sobs echoed through the quiet… Others simply stood in silence, accepting reality for what it was.
One of those figures was Alhen. She stood in front of a simple white blanket that covered Harold's body.
Her head was bowed and tears streamed down her face. She was still processing his last words… His confession of love and his final sacrifice.
The woman had told some nurses to take Charlotte and Vulen to the infirmary not just for their sake, but her own. She couldn't look them in the eye… and she knew it.
In the end, Alhen just needed a few minutes to grieve alone… a few minutes to simply exist in her agony.
Catra stood behind her, unnoticed by the woman. Her body had been patched up, yet her face was still streaked with mud and a little bit of blood. She'd been watching the grieving wife's every move for some time now… It seemed like the only thing she could do.
The girl yearned to talk to her… to offer comfort… to explain why her husband was now dead: Because of her.
Every single death had been her fault. If she'd just killed the Spearhands sooner, everyone's life would have been spared. She couldn't… she simply couldn't.
The cheetah girl looked at her trembling hands and noticed how her fur could still feel the phantom contact of the pistol's trigger. That moment… the moment she pulled it, the thud of the monster's body, how she was ready to kill every last one of them… it made her body shiver and feel scared. Scared of what she felt…
While Catra stumbled towards Alhen, Rod was helping carry some supplies inside a distant emergency tent. Ascal was also inside, calculating the damage done to the village. His mind was a mountain of numbers and realities that not many people had the guts to calculate.
The Hero finished his job, sighed, and walked towards the Welsh warrior.
"I'm done with supplies. The external perimeter is also clear. There are no more monsters around anymore," Rod confirmed.
Ascal looked at him and nodded. His reading glasses almost fell off his nose.
"So, how bad's the damage?" the Hero asked and leaned on a metal pole.
The elf rubbed his ancient eyes.
"It is bad. Very, very bad. Children, mothers, fathers… Today, many people lost their lives… More than half of the village is dead…"
"I'm sorry for your loss…"
"I am just glad we managed to save the remaining elves and the town itself… It is just… sometimes we can't always save everyone…" the warrior murmured and clenched his fist, "This is all my fault… I should have been more aware that the beasts were intending on attacking."
"Blaming yourself won't do any good now. You fought like a guardian, and because of it, you managed to save people. That's what matters."
"That… that is true… There is no time for grieving right now… it is time to rebuild. After all, it is just the cycle of life. Be born, live life, and die in this cruel world," the guardian responded, "I thank you for assisting me, Gun Hero."
Rod stopped leaning on the pole and looked at his hands, trying to conjure the familiar golden lightning. And still, nothing happened.
"I wish I could have done more…" he whispered, "I could have saved everyone…"
"What was that?" Ascal asked, not hearing what he'd just said.
"My daughter was the one who convinced me to come… She was the one who sprung into action."
"The beast-girl?"
"Yeah."
Ascal walked to the entrance of the tent and lifted the side cloth, allowing the morning sunlight to stream in. That's where they saw her in the distance… still struggling to walk toward Alhen.
"The other elves told me how she tried protecting them till the very end… how she even killed one of the Spearhands… She shows the attitude of a true warrior even at such a young age. You must be proud of her, huh?" the warrior asked, his focus shifting to the Gun Hero.
He instantly noticed Rod's unsure expression: A flicker of worry that lived in his green eyes.
"It's the first time she's ever done something like this… She was always a humanitarian… always against the idea of killing… I honestly don't know what's happening inside her head right now."
Ascal looked at Catra once more and noticed her tears.
"She had to do it eventually… face her fear… overcome that limitation… that is the fate of all living creatures… they all grow up and acknowledge reality for what it is."
The Hero stood still and reflected.
"Acknowledge reality for what it is…" the phrase echoed in the depths of his mind, "Maybe… telling her the truth might…"
His fragmented thoughts spiraled to a single conclusion before being cut short by Ascal, who returned to his desk and put on his reading glasses again.
"You should probably go talk to her. Let us remember she is just a child. Just help me out with one last thing."
Rod focused on his daughter one last time.
"Yeah…"
In the muddy yard outside the tent, Catra's hesitant footsteps were finally heard by Alhen. The elf woman was still processing her own grief and it was evident she wasn't ready to speak, thus she didn't look back.
The girl got closer and closer, to the point where she could clearly hear the mother's sobs.
"Come on… SAY SOMETHING!" she thought… Yet, her voice failed her.
Some small moments stretched into an eternity of silence. Then, Alhen finally felt ready.
"I thank you… for saving my life… I thank you for saving my children's lives…" she murmured after slowly facing the girl.
One look at Alhen's face twisted Catra's gut. It forced her to recall the moment her own father had cried alone in his office following Elena's death… those were the same sobs… the same expression. That's what got her.
Her trembling body gave way and she fell to her knees in the mud.
"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed in a choking sob, "I'm sorry I couldn't save him!"
This reaction surprised Alhen. She saw how much Catra was suffering… How guilt consumed her.
The woman grit her teeth, walked to the small girl, kneeled down, and gently grabbed her trembling hands.
"If it weren't for you… my children would have died! You saved us! You have NOTHING to be apologizing for!" she explained, pulling Catra's gaze up and forcing their eyes to meet, "Please don't blame yourself for anything that happened!"
Alhen's maternal instincts immediately took over. She brought Catra closer and wrapped her in a hug, trying to make her feel better… to absorb some of her pain.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!…" Catra continued, clinging to Alhen as if she were her own mother.
They shared grief for what seemed like hours until Catra's sobs gradually subsided. She shed tear after tear, but there came a point where no more tears were left to cry. Only a quiet exhaustion.
With Alhen's assistance, they both got up.
"Feeling better?" the mother asked.
"Mhm…" Catra sniffled lightly.
They cleaned the mud from their clothes and took in the silence of their environment, both looking at Harold's covered body.
"Harold… you're such a dork…" Alhen whispered, remembering the many times they used to be truly happy.
Catra's ears twitched and focused on what the woman had just said. Her tone was different… more melancholic.
"You know… I thought he didn't love me anymore because he cheated on me… he kept it secret and lied again and again…" the elf explained, "I thought my whole marriage was a lie… that maybe when he said he loved me the day we got married, he didn't mean it… that every time he said those words to me, he was lying… But when he said it today… It felt sincere. He gave his life for me… for his children… he protected us at the end…"
Catra looked down and simply stood in a vacuum of emotionlessness, staring at Harold's body, recalling his death once more. The realization hit her hard at that moment. She had killed another living, thinking creature.
"As gun users, we gotta make sure that in the heat of battle we overcome that fear so that we can save and protect the people that are dear to us..." Catra remembered Rod saying a few days ago.
She started to understand why people killed… Why her father had done what he did to the Ice Giant, and why the government would compel him to do such acts.
"He was really trying to protect us from this type of violence…" she thought, looking at other dead elves that were covered by blankets.
Deep inside her mind, she began to change… to acknowledge something that she was afraid of. She understood now… at least a little bit more.
Just when Rod finally left the tent he and Ascal were using, the man looked at his daughter, who was still beside Alhen. What should he tell her? How should he approach the situation?
"What the heck do I do?" he finally asked himself before shaking his head and sweeping the landscape with his eyes.
He could have continued trying to figure out how to make things move, though it all changed in a split second. He caught something at the very edge of his vision. Something a few streets away.
A group of male elves were carrying large debris they'd found at the village's outer sector and placing them onto a large, off-road floating platform. There, he saw it. A familiar mechanical device… The same one in the Spellex factory.
"What the hell?!" Rod exclaimed and immediately ran towards it.
"Gun Hero! I just wanted to say, thank you for-" the elf who was moving the machine stammered, being abruptly cut off.
"Where did you get this thing?" Rod demanded while pointing directly at the "Magic Duster."
"D-during our patrol, we found it at the edge of town, hidden behind some trees and bushes," one of the other elves responded.
The Gun Hero looked at it and analyzed every detail. On a small panel etched into the metal was a logo: The Grand North national logo.
"So Aurora was right…"
Rod grabbed the panel and tore it from the machine, revealing internal components underneath: wires, circuits, and a small, pulsing magic container were some of the many parts that occupied the inside.
It took a few minutes for him to yank out some internal components, systematically shutting down the mysterious machine.
And in that instant, Rod felt it. After the Magic Duster sputtered and died, golden electricity erupted from his body and illuminated the warrior's faces around him.
"Amazing…" one of the elves whispered in shock.
"That's the power of the Gun Hero…" another followed.
It seemed like a miracle to everyone else, but it wasn't. Rod merely looked at the metal plate with the Grand North logo and clenched his fists.
"What the hell, Alex…"