My mouth opened to scream without sound.
I wasn’t there.
Not really.
I was just watching. A ghost walking through a nightmare.
The fire was everywhere. It roared and crackled and spat heat in my face, burning with something that felt personal. My skin stung. My eyes burned, but I still walked.
Bodies lay in the streets, broken and twisted. Some were blackened and brittle, the air around them still shimmering with heat, while others were still moving. I couldn’t tell which was worse.
Then there was the smell. Burnt flesh. Blood. Rot. It filled my nose and seeped into my mouth, making me gag from the taste.
And the soldiers. Death in armor. They moved with a rhythm, cutting through everything in their path with terrifying precision. Laughing. Smiling. As if it were sport.
My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. I kept waiting for it to give out. For something in me to snap so I could lie down and stop feeling any of it. But it just kept beating.
Kept screaming in my chest.
Then I saw my house still standing somehow. My feet moved on their own. I ran. Or maybe I crawled.
I don’t know.
All I could think was that my parents were still in there. Maybe I could get to them. Maybe I could stop it.
But I didn’t.
He was already there.
Arche.
Standing in front of my home like it belonged to him.
The look on his face told me everything I needed to know. He looked content. Happy. In control.
I wanted to tear him apart. Burn him alive. But I couldn’t.
I watched them break the door down. My mother tried to defend herself. She raised her hands. Said please.
Arche didn’t hesitate.
One swing and she was gone.
I saw my father next, dragged out the back, kicking, shouting, refusing to go quietly. He fought, but they still crushed him.
It all started blurring together. The sounds. The heat. The screams. I couldn’t tell what was real and what was memory anymore. I think I was crying, but I couldn’t feel my face. And then Arche turned toward me.
He looked straight at me, as if he had known I was there all along.
And then he smirked.
“You couldn’t save them,” he mocked. “Not then. Not now.”
The words lodged in my ribs like splinters.
“You should have died with them.”
My voice finally broke through the fog. “Then kill me,” I spat.
