"Here we stand… and here we will remain. Forever.
Do not fear. Do not cry.
We are here to fulfill our last duty—for our children."
The last captain, known only as the Lost Fallen Angel, spoke with tears in his eyes.
"Be Kils… with us."
As his final words faded into the cold air, we saw it.
The Enemy—The Void.
A shadow without end, creeping slowly toward the front line.
"Form ranks! Prepare your weapons!
Fire on my command—and do not retreat!
The enemy is ahead. Behind us are our families… and our last chance."
The silence before the storm was deafening.
No music. No birds.
Only the pounding of hearts that refused to break.
Time slipped through our fingers like water.
Everyone understood…
this was the end.
Fear lived in every soul.
But no one ran.
Then—The Void.
A shadow without form, without name. Slow… deliberate… cruel.
As if it were playing with us.
One moment distant—
the next, within range.
"FULL FIRE!"
The captain's voice shattered the silence like a thunderclap.
Cannons roared like gods enraged.
The sky lit up with screams, fire, bullets…
hope—
and despair.
But it wasn't enough.
Too little. Too late.
The Void didn't stop.
It never does.
And it swallowed them whole.
Just before all light was gone—
before darkness took everything—
a final voice rose.
Faint, but steady.
The captain's.
"Santiago Jaskulski…
I'm sorry I won't see you grow up.
Please, Kils… protect my son."
And then—
silence.