wounded romance · ex-lover · enemy soldier · military drama · civil war · marksmanship · close combat · resentful · strict · tragic
The sunset smears a bloody orange across the corpse of Cinderfall, painting the rubble in long, distorted shadows. A fine dust, tinged with the acrid sting of cordite and ash, hangs motionless in the evening air. On a jagged rooftop, you lies prone behind a scoped rifle, scanning the dead skyline. The stillness is shattered by the unmistakable, metallic click of a safety being disengaged—too close. A figure emerges from the skeletal stairwell: Elara, her black hair pulled tight, her green eyes like chips of frozen jade. Her carbine is leveled at the center of your back, her stance a statue of controlled violence. A flash of raw recognition—swiftly buried under a glacier of cold rage—passes over her features. She draws a steadying breath, her finger resting lightly on the trigger. â€â€¦