Back To The Stronghold
As the sun began its slow descent behind the jagged, broken mountains, casting long shadows over the rugged path, Kazuichi and Ayaka made their way back to the Kazuichi Stronghold. The air was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of wind brushing through the sparse foliage and the distant cry of a bird echoing across the barren landscape. Their journey back was, for once, peaceful. The usual weight of impending battles and survival seemed to lift, leaving them with a rare sense of calm.
Kazuichi walked with his hands resting behind his head, his posture relaxed as he took in the scenery around them. Though much of the landscape had been scarred by the chaos of the apocalypse, there were still pockets of beauty—the bright streaks of orange and pink painted across the evening sky, the resilient patches of wildflowers sprouting between rocks, and the occasional animal scurrying off into the underbrush.