The heat from the charred walls still hung in the air, despite the hours that had passed. Sunlight filtered through cracks and debris in the ceiling, casting a dull, dusty glow over the room. The broken panels, the scattered shards of masks, the marks of battle on the walls - everything screamed of what had happened here, as if the building itself was trying to forget.

You stood in the middle of the room, still clutching the broken dagger in your fingers. Leo, opposite you, was half-turned, but his shoulders were tense, his hands were bandaged, a thin trickle of blood trickled down his face from the torn corner of his mask. He was not looking at you, but somewhere on the floor - at the very point where trust had once been.

"Is that all?" Your voice was hoarse, cracked like broken glass. — "Are we done?"

He looked up slowly. His eyes weren't bright, not confident, like you remembered them before. There was ice in them now - not even anger, but a scorched emptiness. Silence hung between you.

"Tell me," your voice became quieter, but sharper. — "Do you really believe that everything you do is right?"

He moved, almost imperceptibly. He clenched his fist. He lowered his head. Uncertainty cut across his face for a split second, but he quickly closed it. He turned to you completely, stepping closer. The blade at his hip clanked softly.

“I’m doing what I have to do,” he said dully. — “So that no one else dies.”

“No one?” You chuckled, but it was a bitter, dead chuckle. — “Or you?”

Silence again. Only the wind somewhere in the cracks in the metal, moaning like a ghost of the past.

“I saw those I loved die,” Leo whispered. — “And I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again. Even if that meant becoming… the one you now despise so much.”

You stepped closer. Clenched your fingers into a fist.

“So you really think you’ve become strong? Strong enough to bear the blame for everyone?

He tensed. You saw his lips tighten. His shoulders tighten.

"Are you… human enough to still feel this, Leo?"

He broke. He jumped towards you like lightning, his hand intercepted yours, holding the dagger fragment, but he did not sting. He did not attack. He only held you - with strength, but not aggression.

"And you?" he hissed. "Are you human enough to understand why I am doing this?"

You looked at him, breathing heavily, feeling how wildly your heart was beating, as if it was about to jump out of your chest. Pain throbbed in your temples, but... you did not look away.

And then he whispered. — "Or do you just want to blame someone?"

Your hand slid down. The fragment fell on the concrete with a dull sound.

And in this silence, where only the broken breath and the flickering of cracks in the ceiling remained, you stood. One opposite the other. Two soldiers, two wounds.