Chapter 42: Costs of War

Ret POV

Watching the rebels leave, I leaned back against the cold stone wall, the chill seeping through my clothing. I closed my eyes, my mind heavy with memories of the past and uncertainty of the future.

I had seen many wars, fought in countless battles. I had seen the cost of victory, the price of defeat. There was nothing glorious about it. War was a beast that consumed everything in its path, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. It was a necessary evil, perhaps, but an evil nonetheless.

I opened my eyes, staring at the stone ceiling above me. The echo of Zane's words still hung in the air, a raw, painful reminder of the cost of war. 'They were my family, not just casualties!' His words had been a punch to the gut, ripping open old wounds.

I ran a hand through my hair, the rough texture of the stone wall against my back a stark reminder of my current predicament. I was a prisoner of war, a captive in enemy territory. My fate was uncertain, but one thing was clear - I was alone.

I thought about Zane's fury, his grief. I understood it, more than he would ever know. I had seen it in the eyes of countless soldiers on the battlefield, heard it in their screams of anguish. I had felt it myself, every time I lost a comrade, every time I was forced to do the unthinkable.

War was never bloodless. It was a cruel, heartless beast that demanded sacrifice, that fed on pain and loss. It was a storm that left nothing untouched, a fire that consumed everything in its path.

I sighed, my breath echoing in the cold, silent cell. The weight of my actions, of the war, hung heavy on my shoulders. I was a soldier, a commander of Titanos. It was my duty to fight, to protect my people. But at what cost?

Zane's words echoed in my mind again. 'You took everything from me!' His accusation was not without merit. I was part of the system that had caused him so much pain, that had taken so much from him. I was part of the problem.

But what could I do? I was a soldier, bound by duty and loyalty. I had orders to follow, a mission to complete. I could not change the past, nor could I predict the future. All I could do was survive, to keep fighting. Xilonem needed me to help make her dreams a reality. Sadly, those dreams didn't come without a cost. But the price of failure was worse. If we couldn't unify all the realms, by peaceful or violent means, then the beings of darkness would destroy us.

The beings of darkness, the future threat that haunted our realm like a Mortarian sickle, were a threat to everything we held dear. They were the reason we fought, the reason we had to unify the realms. If we didn't, if we failed, then everything we knew, everything we loved, would be lost.

I closed my eyes, the images of the last battle flashing before me. The roar of the beasts and machines, the screams of the soldiers, the stench of death and fear. It was a scene of utter chaos and destruction, a scene that I had relived countless times in my nightmares.

But amidst the chaos, there was one image that stood out, one memory that refused to fade. It was of Xilonem, standing amidst the carnage, her face a mask of determination and resolve. She had fought bravely, fearlessly, her powers a beacon of hope in the darkness. It was her dream that we were fighting for, her vision of a united realm that we were trying to make a reality.

But it wasn't just her dream. It was ours too. We, the soldiers of Titanos, fought for a future where our children could live without fear, where they could grow up in a world free from the threat of the darkness. It was a future worth fighting for, a future worth dying for.

I knew that the coming days would be hard, that there would be more battles, more loss. But I also knew that we had to keep fighting, that we couldn't afford to lose. Not just for Xilonem, not just for Titanos, but for all the realms. Including this one.

As I sat in the cold, silent cell, my resolve hardened. I would do whatever it took to make Xilonem's dream a reality. I would fight, I would survive, and I would not let the sacrifices of my comrades be in vain.

I looked up, staring at the stone ceiling above me. The cold, harsh reality of my situation was a reminder of the stakes. But it would not break me. I was a soldier, a commander of Titanos. And I would not be defeated — not by the rebels, not by the beings of darkness, not by Yusan, not by anyone.

War was never bloodless, and the path to peace was paved with sacrifice. But as I sat in the cold, silent cell, I knew one thing for certain. I was ready to pay the price. After all, that was why I came to this planet in the first place. To bear the burden of war with my soldiers. A commander who shied away from the battlefield wasn't worthy of being a commander.

An ideal commander, I mused, was not merely a figurehead or a strategist who sat comfortably behind a desk in the safety of the command center. No, to truly lead, one had to be in the battlefield, in the thick of conflict, shoulder to shoulder with their soldiers. That's where I had always felt most at home, most alive. Not in the sterile confines of a command center, but in the raw, unforgiving chaos of war.

An ideal commander inspired loyalty, not through fear or intimidation, but through example. They didn't hide behind their rank or their soldiers; they stood at the forefront, taking the brunt of the attack, bearing the weight of their decisions. They understood that every order given, every strategy planned, had a cost, and they willing to keep it as low as possible while also being upfront about it.

They were not just leaders, but also soldiers. They were not above their comrades, but one of them. They shared their fears, their hopes, their victories, and their losses. They mourned with them, laughed with them, foughg with them. They were there in the trenches, in the midst of the chaos, leading by example. That's what I believed a commander should be.

I thought of Xilonem. She was not just our queen, but also our comrade, our sister-at-arms. She was someone who understood the cost of war, the weight of the burden we all carried. She was someone who was willing to fight, to bleed, to die for her dream.

But I also knew that being a commander was not just about leading in battle. It was about making hard decisions, about putting the needs of the many above the needs of the few. It was about sacrifice, about understanding that sometimes, you had to lose in order to win. It was about carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, about bearing the burden of your soldiers' lives. Of never forgetting all those who perished for the sake of victory.

As I sat in the cold, silent cell, I couldn't help but think of the decisions I had made, of the sacrifices I had forced upon my soldiers. I had sent them into battle, knowing that some of them wouldn't return. I had given the orders, had made the plans, had carried out the strategies. And every time, I had felt the weight of their lives on my shoulders.

I sighed, my breath echoing in the cold, silent cell. Being a commander was a burden, a responsibility that I had willingly taken on. But it was also a privilege, an honor. I was proud to lead my soldiers, proud to fight alongside them.

The war was far from over, and I knew that there would be more battles, more losses. But I also knew that as long as I was their commander, as long as I was there to lead them, we would keep fighting. We would keep pushing forward, keep striving for the dream we all shared.

All our actions were for the protection of all creation. Even if it meant cracking a few skulls, I was willing to do it. I knew it wasn't good or kind, but I was a realist, not an idealist. But, it was good to also remember the costs and keep them low. Lest one became desensitized. Forgetting led to villainy. And I didn't want Xilonem or anyone else to fall into that trap. It knew it was a cold view, but war required a certain coldness, lest insanity take over.