Curse of the weak

Krishna approached me and offered me his hand. I shook hands with him in return for his gesture. His eyes were still firm with fiery determination despite the anguish. I was in awe of this man's resilience. 

When I asked Aira about the original 125 Reapers present, only 40 survived. The total fatalities were 80 Wraiths and one Phantom. Those who remained all bowed or hugged me as I passed. The despair we all felt was enough to break our wills.

This was not the work of the undead. It was purely human malice. The thirst for revenge and the fear of death shrouded everyone present. We all wanted to kill the Slayer, but right now none of us were strong enough.

"This is the curse of the weak," I muttered.

After a brief mass funeral for the deceased, Krishna called me to one side.

"Smith, John. My people and I won't forget your kindness. Thank you for grieving with us. I have signed your deployment order and have given you a bonus."