I stepped out into the sunlight, shielding my tired eyes from the sun with the back of my hand as I searched the horizon. If I had to solely rely on my memory, it had to have been weeks sheltering in that cave. Even though with each night it got quieter and quieter, I was still growing more terrified that somehow, they'd find me. That even now as I can't see a living soul walking near me, and even now that I know the war is almost or already is over, I still fear that my life can be taken away from me at any second. Being on alert for weeks with barely a scrap of food or drink of water in my body has drained me far more than I thought now that I'm standing up and walking around. I'd never thought I wanted to live this much. I thought I'd given up much long ago. With my tattered and dusty hood over my face, I continue on in the dead quiet land. The first thing on my mind is to find some clothing to wear so I could ditch my robe, which screams my former status of a Being all over it. This wasn't my war anymore and from the beginning, I don't think it ever has been. If I bump into any 'comrades', I'm sure they won't be too disappointed to take my head and bring it to Xenon's feet. I smell of not only damp musk, but defeat and failure. Amongst all of the dead and rotting bodies, my scent stunk the most.