The bunker's dimly lit corridors echoed with the subdued whispers of its occupants, a diverse assembly of orphans, war-weary adults, and elderly survivors.
The air within bore the weight of untold tales, and as Rudra made his way through the narrow passages, he could not escape the haunting resonance of their collective suffering.
The war left scars not only on the land, but etched deep into the souls of those who sought refuge within these walls.
"...These civilians…", Rudra asked about the scars this war has caused around the world.
Even after living with the refugees for a while, the knight continued to receive suspicious looks from the people wherever he went. Rudra understood the thoughts of the civilian refugees about Magnusson's idea of sheltering a knight from the tyrannical court of Aleonia in his secret location, with the risk of the place being denounced as soon as he recovered.
In the common spaces, Rudra observed the resilient spirit of the bunker's inhabitants. The orphans played makeshift games, their laughter a squadroning echo of innocence amid the shadows of conflict.
The adults, scarred by the harsh realities of war, shared knowing looks that spoke volumes about the unspeakable horrors they had endured.
Facing those figures tormented by the terrors of war affected the knight's psyche, making him rethink his purpose in every possible aspect.
Rudra, an outsider to this makeshift community, couldn't help but feel a connection forming—a shared burden etched in every gaze he met.
A group of children were playing with wooden dolls improvised by a local carpenter, when one of the children dropped the toy from his hand, heading towards Rudra, who crouched down and picked it up as he watched.
"A simple, unpolished wooden doll..."
The child turns to Rudra, as he watches him, standing next to his uniform, and questions him about being a knight.
"Are you a knight of Aleonia?"
"Y-... Yes…" – Rudra replied, with some discomfort.
"Are you going to report us as soon as you leave?"
Rudra felt a strong tightening in his heart due to the words of the child in front of him, because of the monstrous figure that Aleonia's soldiers and knights had in the eyes of the innocent.
"No– I–! No… I'm going to report this place…"
Rudra knelt down in front of the child, and continued his sentence.
"I'm no longer part of Aleonia's empire, don't worry…"
Rudra looked at the wooden toy, and asked the child.
"Did you make these dolls?" The knight asks the child, who was playing with his friends.
"Yes! We made them together with Uncle Enkos!" – the child replied excitedly.
"Enkos?" – asked Rudra.
"Yes, our personal blacksmith and sculptor." – a voice behind Rudra answers him.
"Yeah, yeah! He did some really cool and amazing things for us!"
"...Maybe I should talk to him at a future opportunity…"
"...My blade is in a sorry state…"
Rudra returns the toy to the child and returns to his patrol through the veins of the bunker.
As Rudra delved deeper into the heart of the bunker, he discovered a space that served as a sanctuary and makeshift meeting place.
"..." The knight's silence represented the diversity of feelings in the face of that testimony.
There, amid the flickering candlelight, the inhabitants sought solace, a temporary escape from the dark world outside. An elderly woman, her eyes heavy with the weight of countless memories, told stories of a time when the land knew peace.
Their stories resonated like ancient echoes, reminding Rudra of a life lost to the relentless march of war.
"Ah, young knight, sit with me. Let me recount the days when these walls were not needed, when the land breathed with a different kind of life."
"I would be honored, ma'am."
In a corner, a group of children huddled together, their wide-eyed innocence a stark contrast to the somber surroundings. They spoke of dreams—of a world beyond the confines of that great hiding place, where laughter rang freely and sunlight danced over untouched fields.
Rudra listened, his heart heavy with the realization that these dreams, fragile as they seemed, held the spark of hope essential for the journey ahead.
A small child approached the knight and asked him:
"Mr. Knight, do you think we will ever see a world without walls and fear?"
Rudra hesitated for a moment to open his mouth to speak, but soon relented, speaking his mind. "I believe we can, little one. It may take time, but our actions now pave the way for that future."
In the quiet moments before the mission, Rudra found himself drawn to the solemn company of the elderly. Their eyes reflected the wisdom gained from years of conflict, and their stories painted a poignant picture of survival against all odds.
"Whoa–!"
A man, who was walking with difficulty, ended up tripping over his own foot. Rudra moved quickly and caught him.
"Ah…"
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, son… I am."
"If you wish, I can accompany you–"
"Hey-!"
Suddenly, a group of civilians appeared and approached the knight.
"Get your rotten hands off him–!"
"But– I… I–"
Rudra could barely formulate a single sentence, given the out-of-context situation he found himself in.
"Stop it."
"What–?"
Soon, the elderly man spoke about what had happened:
"He didn't do anything wrong."
"On the contrary, he held me to prevent me from falling."
"..." – Rudra remained in contemplative silence.
"Was– was that it?"
"We… We apologize for the inconvenience."
"It was nothing."
The civilians who had previously approached the knight now retreated in shame at the inconvenience caused.
"Son, would you like to accompany me for a moment?"
"Y-Yes… I will accompany you."
So, they both walk together through the tunnels while talking:
"I believe it's not easy for you to live here, is it?"
"..." – Rudra remains in contemplative silence.
"I understand. Many people don't like the presence of Aleonia's knights here, especially if it's an elite knight."
"!-" – Rudra is surprised.
"How do you know I am an elite knight?"
Then, the old man points to a silkscreen on his right shoulder, with a coat of arms, which specified the year of manufacture, the rank and the barracks served by the soldier.
"Sir…"
"I understand you very well, Son. I too served in Aleonia's army in my youth."
"I was a sergeant in the 3rd division at Aleonia headquarters, so I understand quite well how that tyrannical system works."
More and more, Rudra felt the comfort coming from his retired companion. More and more, they both shared their knowledge and similarities.
"It should be good here."
The lord and Rudra stopped at a region to rest.
"The walk was good."
"Sir…"
"Hmm…?"
"What do you think of all this?"
"I didn't understand your question, son."
"I mean, this decision, Magnusson's. The permission for me, a deadly threat who carries the blood of many innocent lives on his hands."
"Get a second chance like this?"
The lord turns to the knight with golden eyes, and dictates his words:
"At the time, I was immature and inexperienced for the military"
"A long time ago, when I was your age, I enlisted in Aleonia's army, Then they put me in a lower battalion."
"There, I had the opportunity to meet many comrades, with whom I made many good memories."
"It was there that I met my wife, a very talented and beautiful nurse. She was dressing my wounds after a turbulent invasion."
"It was at that moment that I received my new purpose. We got to know each other and in the end, we ended up getting engaged and married."
"And she was pregnant with me, but… one day, she had an attack, a very serious one."
"The Ashen Ones destroyed our post, and I ended up losing part of my face due to the constant impacts."
"When I woke up, I was on a stretcher, severely burned, with the news that my brothers in arms had succumbed to the ashes."
"And my wife, who was in the middle of the war, ended up perishing because of the brutal violence of the Galèsians."
Rudra was stunned by the shocking statements coming from that elderly man.
"Because of my pitiful condition, they had to retire me immediately. Since that day, I have lived only in darkness and fear."
"..."
"I am so sorry… for your loss." Rudra lamented with his head down, his voice tearful.
"Don't worry about it, Son."
"But–"
"In the world we live in, we experience constant loss. Unfortunately, it is not possible to resurrect those who are gone."
"I never stopped fighting, making a difference for those most dependent, and now look where I find myself."
"We need you, Magnusson doesn't choose anything at random."
Those words penetrated Rudra's heart in a way that the knight would not be able to express.
"Everyone here has had their redemption, from the former knights to the civilians, without exception."
"Do you need a reason to protect someone?"
As they spoke, Rudra felt a growing responsibility not only to end the war, but to safeguard the fragile tapestry of lives woven within the bunker walls.
"Son, you carry more than just a sword. You carry the hopes of those who resisted. Make every swing count."
"…"
Rudra looks at his dusty hands, remaining silent for a few seconds, and then speaks again:
"I won't forget, sir."
Time had passed and Rudra had become a part of that place, helping with chores, listening to and sharing stories with the inhabitants and helping those in need.
In the stillness of the night, Rudra retired to his quarters. In the solitude of his thoughts, he pondered the weight of his newfound purpose.
The monologues that unfolded within him echoed the collective yearning for peace—a desire strong enough to transcend the scars of battle and redefine the destiny of their country and their world.
"This place…"
"Why does he mess with me so much…?"
The knight constantly reflected on the influence that the hiding place had on his mind. For a person who lived among blood, losses and swords, all of this was new to him.
"..."
As the mission approached, Rudra carried with him the stories, dreams, and aspirations of those he had come to call comrades, fueling a determination that would shape the destiny of a war-torn world.
– It had been 14 days since Rudra arrived at the bunker.