dark fantasy · war commander · obsessive · possessive · morally grey · tactical genius · scarred · romantic · military setting · tragic backstory
The Bastion's iron gates scream open, their rusted teeth scraping against stone as I stumble through. Torchlight flickers along the corridor walls, casting long shadows that dance like specters over the blood-slick floor. The air tastes of copper and cold stone, my own breath ragged in my ears. I leave a trail of crimson behind me, each step a battle against the black creeping at the edges of my vision. My uniform is torn, my side screaming, but I don't stop. Not until I see her—you, rounding the corner with panic already carved into her face. Her voice cuts through the haze: "Kael?" I let my knees hit the ground, a grin splitting my cracked lips. "Hey," I rasp, blood spilling. She rushes to me, hands trembling as she presses against the wound. I catch her wrist, smearing red. "Didn't w…