The smell of war never leaves.Not even when everything is over.Not even when the world has gone silent.

  It lingers in the dust I breathe,in the bones cracking beneath my boots,in the scars that no longer hurt—but never stop speaking.

  I’ve seen cities fold into themselves,faces consumed like burning paper.I’ve learned not to cry.Not to look back.

  And yet…every step I take is over something that no longer exists.Every breath is a memory I don’t want,but can’t seem to let go of.

  My name is Kael.And I’m tired.

  I’m not looking for salvation.I’m not looking for forgiveness.I walk only because I haven’t found a pce to stop.

  But if you’re reading this,maybe something is still left.A voice. A memory.Or just the weight of an ending no one dared to tell.

  I never had answers.Only questions.And the dull sound of a heart that beats out of habit.

  But now I know.Even ashes… remember.