Humble End of the Facade

One bullet. It took one bullet to trigger the most devastating tragedy in human history. A war that was meant to end all wars, like a golden drop going into a teacup a history book, emptying the pot full of human blood spill. Alas, the results were different. Four great empires once prosperous were destroyed in vain, moreover others, more fortunate ones, were left with nothing but mourning for their fallen comrades. There were neither losers nor winners in this war, only tears, suffering and death spread across the world. Such was the Great War.

And those most bloody, overflowed with violence, battles took place in Europe, the modern cradle of civilization. Friends, fathers and brothers directed their rifles at each other, foolishly perceiving to showcase the might of their empire. They thought of it as a greater cause, wholeheartedly believed in the righteousness of ones' evil deeds! But in the end, a murder remains a murder and an attempt to justify it, ridicules the basis of human morals. Like living puppets, soldiers were doing what they were told by the commanders. And same commanders were striving towards the benefits for their homeland, they were blinded by glory, thus willing to sacrifice people they vowed to protect.

One of such battles took place in Belgium territories, the most brutal way of warfare which required a strong will to die for their fatherland. Trenches. In between the misery of life in cold and dump, narrow paths, soldiers were either shooting down rushing foes or were running like bulls themselves right into the claws of their demise. Indeed, it was an unnecessary, wasteful and grotesque way of fighting, which did not bear many fruits, since the enemy side adapted the same strategy, developing an endless stalemate out of this farce.

Despite that, they could not change the strategy on a whim, since the enemy would immediately strike back once there is an opening. So was the justification of this massacre by the one in chief of the French army. And it was not some ordinary general or even leader of the government. It was an outsider, welcomed by the nobility from all over the world. The saint, to be precise! However, this so-called saint was a young teen. A blonde woman in military attire whose eyes were green like emeralds with an absent spark, as if she was a doll.

"This is ridiculous! We can't send in any more troops into this hellhole!" protested one of the older gentlemen, sitting in a meeting room.

The woman softly smiled and said, "Quite the benevolent facade you have built, mister businessman. No need to be this stingy about my plan, I will make sure to avoid your fabrics through the battlefield." 

This comment made that man grit his teeth in fury, though he did not say a word further. All attention was locked on her, but no sign of anxiety was present in the young blood. There were more words spread from various sides of the table regarding the losses, tactics and enemy. At first, they were calm, but after a while the quarrel continued in aggressive French. The command was panicking in contrast to the young woman who was observing them keenly. At one point, someone broke the chain of resentment by addressing the one in charge of the meeting.

"Quit smiling in the face of fear. We are in a desperate situation, but you are still annoyingly calm. Does a human life have any value to the likes of you or you are only capable of seeing numbers, Mademoiselle la Avise?" said the man not quite in his middle ages. His face that was lacking wrinkles or impressive beard was contrasting the ones surrounding him, nonetheless he appeared to be at least twice as old as the girl opposing him.

She narrowed her brows and in a cold manner said, "All the sacrifices are necessary in order to win this war."

The man sighed like a disappointed parent and quickly replied, "And what was I expecting? Fine, recently, our men moved a little into German borders. Get ready to come with me, I will show you the consequences of your bright ideas."

Even though some older men were opposing his intentions, the majority of command were tired of the prolonged conflict. Shortly after the meeting, a single Cadillac left the facility in the east of Paris. This single trip would not only change the corrupt perception of this girl that was known by the title of "Saint", but also will result in a huge sigh of relief for the world due to the end of pointless massacre as well as the Great War itself.