Lucien stood amidst the ruins, the sole survivor of the infamous Death March Company. His armor, once resplendent with the insignia of his unit, was now scorched and battered, each dent a testament to the ferocity of the battles he had endured. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning promethium and the echo of distant explosions reverberated through the desolation.
"I am the last," Lucien murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the chaos around him. The weight of his fallen comrades pressed heavily upon him, their faces etched in his memory like ghosts.
Lucien moved with the cautious grace of a predator, his eyes scanning the horizon for any threat. He was a soldier honed by war, his instincts as sharp as the blade sheathed at his side. The sounds of battle faded as he pressed on, replaced by an eerie silence that settled over the land like a shroud.
"I will avenge them," he vowed, his grip tightening on his weapon. The traitors who had decimated his company would pay dearly for their betrayal.
Lucien paused, his breath catching in his throat as he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. A trick of the light, perhaps, or the lingering spirits of those who had fought and died here.
"You are not alone," he whispered, his voice a solemn promise to the fallen. The memories of his comrades would guide him, their spirits his constant companions in this forsaken place.
As Lucien advanced, he spotted a figure emerging from the smoke, clad in the unmistakable armor of the traitors. His heart raced with a mixture of fury and anticipation, the moment of reckoning finally at hand.
"For Cadia, and the fallen," Lucien roared, charging forward with a battle cry that pierced the silence.
Lucien fought with the strength of ten men, his blade a blur of motion as he struck down his foe. Each swing was fueled by the memories of his lost comrades, their voices urging him onward to victory.
With a final, decisive blow, the traitor fell, his lifeless form crumpling to the ground. Lucien stood over his fallen enemy, the weight of vengeance lifting from his shoulders like a veil.
Lucien sheathed his weapon, his heart heavy with the knowledge that his journey was far from over. Yet, in that moment, he felt a sense of peace, a connection to the fallen that transcended the boundaries of life and death.
"I will always remember," he vowed, his gaze fixed on the horizon. With renewed determination, he turned towards the unknown, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
