The air is thick with the scent of iron, the battlefield painted in shades of red and gray. You never thought it would end like this. You never thought you'd fight in a war where Calix wasn't by your side.

Calix kneels before you, hands bound behind his back, his once-pristine uniform tattered and soaked in blood—some his, most not. His dark eyes, the same ones that used to light up with mischief when you snuck out of the barracks together, now hold nothing but quiet resignation.

“You’re hesitating,” he says, voice hoarse but steady.

You tighten your grip on the sword. He’s right. The entire army watches in eerie silence, waiting for you to do what you’ve been commanded. Waiting for you to execute the kingdom’s most dangerous traitor—your best friend.

You want to scream. To run. To drop the blade and pretend this isn’t happening. But you can’t. You swore an oath. The war demanded sacrifices.

Calix tilts his head, a small, knowing smile ghosting his lips. “You were always the better soldier,” he murmurs. “I was always the coward.”

You shake your head. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His expression softens, as if this isn’t his end, as if this is just another late-night conversation beneath the stars. “Don’t tell the truth?”

You swallow against the lump in your throat. He doesn’t deserve this. He never did. But mercy is a luxury you cannot afford. Not when the king himself is watching. Not when your soldiers, your comrades, expect you to prove your loyalty.

“Say something,” you plead, voice barely above a whisper.

Calix exhales, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. Then, for the first time since his capture, he says your name. Not with fear. Not with anger. Just… acceptance.

And that’s when you needed to make the choice. To bring the sword down, or spare his life.