[A red sky, blood everywhere on the ground as far as the eye can see. The sound of lasers firing from airships fills the air, accompanied by screams of terror. After some time, all that remains are piles of bodies, covering the land in a sea of death.
In the midst of it all, a lone figure kneels, consumed by despair. The person seems to be screaming, their voice cutting through the silence. The face looks familiar, yet unrecognizable in the chaos. The only sound left is the echo of their scream, reverberating through the stillness.]
"Aaahhh!!" I woke up with a scream.
I was breathing heavily. I looked around and found myself lying on a bed inside a tent.
"Oh, you woke up," said a man who entered the tent. The blonde person calmly sat beside me, waving his hand in front of my eyes and asking with a smile, "Do you remember me?"
Like hell, I would forget this irritating smile.
"Stop it, Theo," I irritably removed his hand from in front of me. "How long was I out?" I asked.
"Fourteen hours. You were out like a dead body. Iris thought you were dead," he said.
"As if I would die from such small injuries." There were some bandages on my body, but nothing serious.
"Well, it would have been great if that had happened. I would have gotten our room to myself," Theo said with a sly tone.
"Sorry to break your hopes. So, is everyone okay?"
"Of course. It was a small mission. Getting injured even in that was quite a feat, you know," he said with his usual sarcastic smile.
"So, the mission was a success?" I asked.
"Nah." Theo sighed. "It didn't go well. We can say we didn't have enough intel, but you know… you're the only one who got injured."
"Only me?" I said.
"So, how are you feeling? Anything wrong with you?" Theo asked.
"No, I'm fine. Just a bit of a headache."
"Take some rest for now. After that, we'll talk," Theo said and stood up to leave.
I let the words sink in. Failure. The word hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. I swallow the frustration burning in my throat, but I can't push it away. Not yet.
After some time, I stood up from the bed. I swung my legs off carefully, testing the strength in them. The pain was still there, but it was manageable. I wasn't going to stay in the tent forever.
Stepping outside, the sudden cold air hit me. The moon had risen.
I heard a familiar voice calling my name. I saw her before she saw me. Iris. She was the first to spot me, her eyes widening with that familiar panic. Before I could even react, she was running toward me, throwing her arms around me like I was some kind of lifeline.
"Oh my God, Dorian," she sobbed, her voice muffled against my chest. "You scared me so much. You're always getting hurt. Why does it always have to be you?"
I stiffened for a moment, not sure how to respond. Iris always reacted like this—crying whenever I got hurt.
"I'm fine, Iris. It was just a small injury and some shock. That's why I passed out," I said, trying to assure her and calm her down.
She pulled back, her face tear-streaked, but there was relief in her eyes. She wiped her face, forcing a fragile smile. "I don't care about that. I care about you being safe."
I wanted to say something back, something to ease her restlessness, but before I could, I caught sight of her—sitting far away from the rest of us.
Sasha.
Our eyes met, and I held her gaze for a moment. She didn't break it. She just tilted her head slightly, as though asking whether I was fine or not. Then, without a word, she looked away, as if she had gotten her answer. As always, her expressions were unreadable. She'd always been like this—quiet, distant. It was like she lived in her own world, and the rest of us were just… part of the background. Others couldn't help but wonder what was going on in her mind.
Iris scowled, her hand lightly gripping my arm as though afraid I'd fall apart at any second. "Don't do that again," she said firmly.
I sighed and called Tristan to hold her. He came and pulled her away, affirming that I was okay. After a bit, she understood and pulled back. Oh, by the way, Iris and Tristan are a couple. That's why she listened to him.
Then, I heard it—the footsteps of a person. We all knew from the sound who it was.
I looked up just as Lena rounded the corner, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. Her presence was intimidating, commanding. She didn't waste time with pleasantries.
"Everyone," she said, her voice cutting through the tension in the air. "Let's head back. We've already spent too much time here," Lena said.
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Character Info: Dorain Graves
Name: Dorain Graves
Age: 24 years old
Gender: Male
Blood Type: O-
Height: 180 cm
Hair Color: Black
Body Type: Lean, Average Build
Skills: Though not exceptionally skilled in combat, he makes up for it with a sharp mind and strategic thinking.
Rank:Iron Chancellor – A distinguished political and military strategist. (Mid-Level Officer)
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