When the smoke clears we are the only two of our own small army left.

Many Chosen women are wounded beyond repair, and in the centre of it all, the white-haired one sits, the bloodied body of his beloved in his arms.

"No, please..."

"Ssh, it's okay. I love you... Angel"

I feel his pain, as he clutches at her empty shell.

She never loved him enough, and I understand that agony.

If these emotions make me human then so be it.

I shall also be his companion who guides him through greif, and I hope he shall be mine.