Trapped… Difa was ruined, the wall at the corner, indisgust. Ecstatically laughing above her, stood a soldier of the Fifth Kingdom.The breaths of the mother rose in the cold air like scattered fog,with every muffled scream escaping betweenthe tightly pressed lips of the soldier, whose large body wrapped in clothpressed heavily on her pale, black-clad body.His wide hands clung to her slim waist as if afraid to let go,melting between his fingers."Stop…" she whispered hoarsely, her words choked.Her voice shattered against the metallic mask of the merciless man.The soldier's trigger fingers began to wander her trembling body,slowly feeling the warm spots under the thin clothes.He enjoyed every shiver she gave,as if tasting a rich meal before devouring it."Your mother… so beautiful," the soldier whispered into Koran's ear."Doesn't it remind you… of a snake's hiss?"Koran stood like a statue carved of salt,his wide eyes catching every grotesque detail:how the black glove slid,how the fingers pressed on the torn cloth under his mother's dressuntil red spots appeared.He saw her silent tears,as she tried to turn her face away from the heavy soldier's breathreeked of sweat and gunpowder."Look how she trembles," the soldier laughed as he held her chin,forcing her to look at her son. "Didn't I teach you how to be a man?Or will you remain a coward like your father?"At that moment, Koran heard the sound of tearing fabric,the soldier's disgusting hand had grabbed a large piece of his mother's dress,exposing her skin, pale as snow,turning red from resistance."Close your eyes…" the mother croaked.But the soldier punched her mouth,emitting a strange moan between suffocation and pain."No, let the boy learn," said the soldier as he lifted her bodylike a weak doll and laid her on the table.With every movement, she moaned in shame.Koran watched how the soldier leaned over his mother,how he began to undo his belt with one hand,producing an annoying sound from the leather,while the other hand gripped her wrists above her head.The soldier's breathing quickened like the snore of a hungry beast."This is what real men do," the soldier whisperedas he pressed his body down on her.The mother tried to kick, but her bare leg only bled,her tears mixing with the blood on her cheeks.Her toes curled in the cold as if trying to cling to anything to save herself.Then…Koran heard the sound of a zipper at that exact moment,saw his mother's eyes widen in horror,saw the soldier's hand slide down…Something strange happened.Time slowed.Koran no longer thought. His hands trembled searching for anything,any weapon, any hope.His fingers picked up a broken piece of glassfrom the remnants of a shattered lamp from the previous battle.With a scream not even he recognized, Koran lunged like a beast,the sharp glass piercing the cold night airbefore sinking into the soldier's back.The strike was weak, uncalculated,it didn't reach vital organs but tore the skin.The soldier screamed, turned his arm violently,struck Koran like a ragdoll rolling on the ground."You little rat!" the soldier roared,pressing his hand on the bleeding wound in his back.Koran lay on the ground, his mouth full of blood, his head spinning.He saw his mother reaching out, her eyes overflowing toward him.Tears and terror.He saw the shadow of the soldier approaching, covering everything.Hope faded.At that moment, with pain, blood, and shame, Koran realized one truth:This world…does not spare the weak."You'll pay the price…" the soldier growled hoarsely with hatred."Now!"Koran charged toward the soldierlike a hammer of war.The sound of his footsteps on the scattered debris thundered.Koran couldn't even scream.He knew he was going to die.But before the soldier reached him—she was there.His mother.Exhausted, wounded, she stood between him and death.A knife in her hand…With eyes blazing,she plunged the blade into the soldier's eye in one strike.The soldier screamed—a cry that shook the place,like the howl of a beast being skinned alive.Blood exploded from his sockets like a fountain of hell.He did not die.But…His face turned slowly, bloodied,madness burning in his surviving eye."You'll pay… for this."Before the mother could speak,he raised his trembling hand with the rifleand fired…One shot.Straight into her chest.The sound was thunderous.Time stopped.Koran saw everything slowly:blood erupting from her chest like a red fountain,her body thrown violently backward,her eyes widening in disbelief.She fell…into his arms."Mom?"The word escaped him like a broken plea through time.Her body was warm… but quickly cooling.Her trembling eyes locked into his.She smiled—a small smile, barely seen,but filled with love.In a faint voice, barely heard amidst the fire and destruction, she whispered:"Don't cry… Koran… wasn't it a beautiful day once…?"Her shaking hand touched his blood-stained cheek."That cake… the one you bought for me… it was so sweet…"She smiled, bleeding from her mouth,laughed softly as if trying to comfort him,then, as her eyes closed, she said in a weakening voice:"I'll remember its taste… forever… I promise."Then…Her hand dropped from his cheek.Everything… went silent.Koran held her.His tears didn't fall.He had gone beyond crying.He was drowning in a sea with no direction,his eyes staring into the void.(Nothing… remains.)(No one… remains.)Behind him, the groaning soldier dragged his body away, half-blind.But it no longer meant anything.Koran was just holding his mother.And inside him,a storm.A final whisper, like a shard in his heart:"Mom."Silence.A silence unlike any other, piercing the heart.Koran sat there, on the floor where once was a warm kitchen.Her body… in his arms.His mother.Still warm.This lying warmth mocked him…He knew… this warmth would not last.He knew death does not retreat when it casts its shadow.Still… he held her.His hands, stained with blood, wrapped around heras if a strong hug could restore her soul to her body,as if only his embrace could stop death.No screaming. No tears.His eyes were dry.He only breathed…(Why… is everything so calm?)He looked at her still features,her blue lips,the small smile still hanging on her face.As if still in a dream she hadn't woken from.(Her smile… still there.)He closed his eyes, and for a moment, the past opened before him.Her laughter when they went to buy the cake.Her talk about the coming days.Her hand that gently held his, saying:"It'll all be okay, Koran."(It was all a lie… a lie.)He opened his eyes. The images didn't fade.The house… no longer a home.The paint was peeled, the furniture collapsed, the walls burned, the roof charred.Peeling like dead skin.And yet, despite the death… the ruin… everything,he sat there as if the place still held everything he ever knew.(My mother was here… this was my world.)He looked up slightly, to the burnt ceiling where the smoke still roseto the sky.In a hoarse whisper, like a call no one should hear:"It's all over."No one replied.No one would come—No neighbors, no rescuers, no friends.The city was drowned in hell.The people turned to ash.And still, he didn't move.His hand slowly, tremblingly ran through his mother's soiled hairas if she were still capable of waking up.This time, he whispered again as if speaking to her:"You said… we'd eat cake together again."A sad, short, mad laugh broke from a killer's lips:"But… it's okay, mom… I'll carry it alone."He saw the dying soldier crawling away,vomiting blood, groaning.He didn't care.He just sat there, repeating in a whisper, holding her:"Mom… mom… mom…"And in his mind, her final words still echoed:"That cake… that beautiful day…"And in the end, his lips trembled with one cold sentence,horrifying in its truth:"Everything is dead."Without realizing it, he started doing it…That strange, will-less act.He lifted his shaking hand,with his blood-stained fingers,he gently ran it through her hairas she used to do when he was a child.(Are you cold, mom?)Did you forget to close the window?Like you used to say: "You'll catch a cold."A faint smile passed over his lips.He extended his other hand,and with slow, painful motions,he gently wiped the blood off her face,as if afraid it would hurt her.Then, with a faint, barely heard whisper:"Don't worry… don't be afraid… I'm here… the milk hasn't cooled yet…Let's eat the cake… just wake up…"A moment passed.Her eyelids didn't move.Her face stayed still, like a broken statue.Inside him, confusion increased. Like his mind was breaking apart.(Does the dead feel cold?)Is this… just a dream?Am I… really asleep?)He looked at his hands.Everything was covered in blood.Thick, dark, red,sticky like mold,coating his fingers like gloves from hell.With eyes staring into the void, he whispered:"Is this… her blood… or mine?"A short, dead laugh escaped like the sound of a rusted machine:"Doesn't matter… everything's burned."Then, slowly—like death itself—he laid her body on the floor.Like placing a fragile flower over water.He covered her with his torn cloak.Everything had been in vain.He stood there.His hands trembling without awareness, his body covered in ash and blood,his eyes empty like two dark pits.He looked behind him…To the house,to where, on the doorstep, her body lay still,eyes closed, mouth silent, still holding a small smileas if sleeping after a long day.Koran did not cry.He did not scream.He only stared… for a long, cold moment.He was the only one hearing his inner voice,like a distant echo,as if speaking to someone else:(How small this house seems now…Like a tight grave…Even for the dead.)(Everything… is over.)He lifted his trembling hand,muttered with barely moving lips:"Goodbye… mom."No tears. No emotions.Like a stranger at a train station saying goodbye to someone he met once—nothing more.He reached for the broken door,closed it slowly.The faint sound of burning wood was like the turning of a page in a filthy old book.When he turned to the outside—the world had completely changed.The sky was black.Ash-gray like mud.The scene painted with the color of blood,a mix of thick smoke and faint flame.The streets were covered in ash.Corpses scattered in every corner, some headless, some piled like garbage.The screams of people still echoed,faint, as if coming from another dimension.Koran stepped into the street.His bare feet touched the scorched ground still soaked with his mother's blood.His heels were stained.His steps were heavy, but they did not stop.He never looked back.He walked like a broken machine, as if by habit, not will.Inside, a conversation with himself, cold and crumbling like a ruined wall:(Where… should I go?)(No one… is left.)(No home, no mother, no friend, no hope… nothing awaits me.)But he kept walking…Until suddenly, he stopped at the edge of a burnt street.He raised his head to the black sky.The smoke and choking fog had swallowed the stars completely.Nothing remained.And at that moment…Everything was silent.No explosions. No screams. No sounds.Just stillness.As if the universe held its breath,leaving him alone with his shadow.Koran took a deep breathand muttered coldly from within:"Everything… is truly over."Then he smiled that twisted smile,devoid of any human warmth,and continued walking with heavier, more stable steps.He walked through fire, corpses, and smokelike one dreaminga dream that does not end.He left the house behind…And took with him what was left of the childfrom that day.In the final moment, as his image faded into the fog,a faint voice whispered clearly, like a sword:"I'll keep going… until the end."His features vanished in the darkness,while the fire behind him still blazed, as if the world was burning to give birthto something anew… from her ashes.
