The burning. The screaming. The endless loop of pain that they must have felt. The smell of cooking flesh, of boiling blood. The worst part was watching, hearing them call out their names. Expecting him to have the miraculous power to make flames die out. He could have done it, but he wasn't expecting the explosions; he wasted all his energy fighting off enemies, and now there is no strength lingering to protect his army. He believed in her. Yet, he simply lay there. Not experiencing the excruciating pain of his soldiers, his friends. He watched as a sister falls upon her brother to protect him from dying. The Kazu he loved crawling towards him, flesh burning off her hand as she reached out for his. Everyone running in panic, falling to their knees as they find out that there is nowhere without flame. Everything is lost. Both sides of the battle will end up in the darkness after life, only left to wonder, where did he explosives come from, who set them off, why didn't anyone stop it, wandering the second world in their shell cadavers.

​

Then there was light, a field of red flowers, and the soldiers of one army, his army. There, his sister stood with the great soldier Sean. An emotion other than apathy and sadism had stricken her: fear. 
Slowly, as he reached his hand up into the light, he looked upon the decomposed flesh and bone. 
There is no hope in this world.