I thought she was gone.

When the enemies took her at fifteen, I searched for weeks—months even—but she vanished without a trace. Every night, her face haunted me. Every mission, I looked for her shadow among the smoke.

And then, four years later, I saw her again.

It was on the battlefield. Through the dust and fire, I caught a glimpse of her eyes—those same eyes that used to smile when everything else was falling apart. But now… they were cold. Empty.

She was standing with them. With the people who destroyed everything we were.

My heart stopped.

I should’ve pulled the trigger. I should’ve seen her as the enemy. But all I could think was—how did we end up here?