At dusk, when the sky bruised purple, a lone warrior stood at the edge of a silent battlefield.
His bow trembled—not from fear, but from memory.
Years ago, he had chosen victory over mercy.
An arrow flew. A promise broke.
The world moved on, but karma never forgets.
Tonight, the wind returned that moment to him.
Every fallen leaf whispered the same name he had buried.
Every shadow asked the same question: Would you choose differently?
He raised his bow again—this time not to strike, but to lay it down.
The ground felt lighter. The air softened.
Redemption did not arrive as thunder.
It came as silence.
And in that silence, destiny finally forgave him.