They were cowering in the kiosk for hours bow.
Of course they had lost count. Every second felt longer than the last, each gunshot slowed the time infinitly.
A man in the corner had broken down with a chain in his hand, whispering like a madman, praying.
Every man who wasn't blinded had lost all hope long ago.
Was there any hope when they entered this damn kiosk, in the middle of an open square, the streets cpvered in snow, the enemy hiding behind every window of every building.
One man had tried to run.
He fell before even running 10 steps.
They were cowering inside their graves, only waiting for the first shovel of dirt to fall upon their heads and seal what noone dared to say out loud.
Noone would say it, but noone said anything anyways, so it didn't make a difference.
In the end everyone dies by themselfs.
Jonah would die by himself.
He knee he had to be brave, and yet, he was shaking in his boots.
This would be the end. He could never see a flower again, smell the fresh green grass after a long period of summer rain.
And it was cold.
The streets were covered in snow and little dropplets of rain fell on the flat roof of the kiosk, creating a calming and soft murmur.
That sound was the only thing keeping Jonah down, keeping him from simply standing up to escape this hell with no future.
He would die in this kiosk as soon as the rain stopped.
It was only a matter of time.
Someone who had made peace with his end wasn't scared anymore, not sad or dissapointed.
Jonah didn't think about this. He barely thought about anything, despite his destined end, all he could focus on was the rain, the whispering on the roof.
He was calm, cowering in the dark.
He almost felt like a child, unconcerned about anything that could happen soon or had happened, only living in the moment, in this strangely calming pitter-patter hitting the stones above him.
There was less and less of it.
Suddenly, reality struck like a hammer again, he had reached his final moments, his final day, his final peace.
It was the end of everything he had hated and loved. He didn't mourn what he was gonna loose, he remembered it.
Plish plish plish plish plipp.
He listened for a moment.
It was gone.
The sound of rain had stopped forever for him.
He stood up.
One would think his camerades might scream, they might pull him down, shout at him.
But all of them just listened.
Jonah looked outside. Something was different. Something about the snow and the buildings looked weird.
He made a step towards the window front.
And another one.
The glass had shattered and he could simply step through, onto the thin layer of white, powdery snow.
He barely noticed it, he didn't care for the enemy soldiers, his head was layed back and his eyes were fixed in the sky.
The sky was glowing in a color he had never seen this way before.
An alien magenta lid up the darkness in a shade none of them could ever dream of in their lifes ever again.
Jonah made another step.
No gunshots, no explodions, no fire, no death.
He didn't even noticed. All he noticed was this unique, somehow familiar and comforting magenta light in the sky.
Everyone could embrace it, but it wouldn't last. It was bpund to this moment, a moment they simply enjoyed.
Eyes in every window of every wall were filled by this magenta that only existed this dark peaceful night.
Step by step, Jonah walked through the streets, his eyes only ever looking up, seeing this truly unique magenta, a shade that might never exist quite like this again. There was nothing around him, just the sky.
As he walked, the sky started to turn grey.
The sun was setting again, slowly, it wasn't over the horizon yet, but it was slowly covering up this memory, a moment gone forever.
Slowly, the soldier sunk to his knees, there was no regret, no sadness, no longing, no despair. He was filled with completion, with acceptance and satisfaction. He had witnessed something he would never forget.
The rain, the snow, the light, peace.