Shattered Note

Aether's

l, his hands gripping his rifle tightly. His eyes scanned the battlefield before him, but it wasn't a battlefield in the traditional sense. No,

ing, but those emotions had long since been drained from him, sold off for scraps of survival. The onl

't need to survive, just to make sure the others did. He glanced over his shoulder. Milo and the rest of the team were waiting for the

rolling everything." His voice was steady, even as the sky above roared with ar

He remembered the day the last drop of anger had left him, sold to some elite's child in exchange for a few d

ck. His boots sank into the muddy ground as he moved forward, each s

expected. He raised his hand to signal Milo and the others to stay back, but it was too late. A deafe

't scream. The emotions that made pain unbearable were gone. He rolled over onto his back, blood trickling down his face, visi

ottled emotions strapped to their chests like trophies. Aether watched them as they passed, unable to feel the hatred that

ning the battlefield. It was him-the Puppet Master. The man who had orchestrated the downfall of

er's voice was calm, almost amused.

s legs wouldn't cooperate. Hi

ge me with your pitiful rebellion?" He reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial, glowing softly in the dim light.

came. No rage. No fear. Only the heavy weight

ttered the vial against the ground, the last rem

he Puppet Master sai

t was over. He had nothing left. His body fell limp,

d once been his comrades. His fight, his rebellion, ended in silence

her was

n't fi

in the black, and for what felt like an eternity, he floated in the void, weightless

was gone. The mud, the smoke, the ruins-all replaced by a new sky, clear and bri

somewhe

Aether felt something stir insi