In my world, there’s a famous motto everyone lives by: ‘If you’re weak, then you are worthless.’

You see, people here believe personalities and emotions are unnecessary. A nuisance.

But I couldn’t help but cry as I walked through the grassy plains of Earth. My family. My friends.

They’re all dead.

And for what? The kingdom’s safety? Giving purpose to death and murder is making excuses for your failures.

How could this happen? The humans were supposed to be peaceful.

Heh. Clearly they aren’t.

My knees feel weak and my eyelids heavy. The ground comes closer and closer until I’m just laying there. Laying in a sea of bodies.

Rain comes down, splashing against my cheek and mixing with the tears sliding down my face and off the cliff of my chin.

The battle for our new world killed more than it saved. The battle for freedom has resulted in eternal slavery.

Bits of mud scatter into the air as my fist grinds into the dirt. If I ever see that damned commander again I swear I’ll rip his face off.

This wasn’t war. This was a massacre.