The forest around the Hollowheart Enclave felt eerily quiet after the dawn strike. The echoes of battle faded, replaced by a heavy silence that pressed against Artemis's chest.
She knelt beside a fallen comrade, her hands trembling as she closed their eyes. The cost of victory was sharper than any blade.
Elara approached, her steps soft but steady. She crouched beside Artemis, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"We did what we had to," Elara whispered.
"They wouldn't have stopped coming."
Artemis exhaled slowly, leaning into the warmth of that touch.
"I know," she said, voice raw. "But it doesn't make it easier."
Elara's gaze softened. "It never does. But we have each other. And that makes all the difference."
For a long moment, they sat in quiet solidarity, the weight of the day sinking in.
Then Artemis reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Elara's face.
"Thank you—for standing with me. For believing."
Elara smiled, her eyes shining with something fierce and tender.
"Always. We fight for this world… and for us."
Under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, they shared a fragile, precious moment—a promise sealed without words.
Behind them, the enclave stirred, survivors gathering to mourn, to heal, to prepare for what was still to come.
But for Artemis and Elara, this was a victory beyond any battle—a vow to face the darkness together.