Beyond the distant Void.
On a muddled red land, a middle-aged man with hands bound behind him knelt, his head drooping.
His face was ashen, his eyes vacant, and his mumbling lips seemed to be cursing the Divine, questioning why He became like this.
Why?
They were clearly victors...
Yet, Death came knocking after they won everything.
The voice in the void did not answer, his thoughts interrupted by a righteous shout.
"Meita!"
Upon hearing his name, the middle-aged man twitched as if shocked by electricity.
"I… I confess!"
Laughter erupted on the execution ground, while those outside remained silent, uncertain if they might end up there themselves.
As to why they were afraid, well, that's another matter altogether.
"Did I ask you?"
The middle-aged man hunched his shoulders, his lips quivering, yet unable to speak.
Perhaps finding his miserable appearance pitiful, the interrogator, though disdainful, showed a bit of sympathy, easing his tone somewhat.
