Prologue: The Last Breath
‘The world had changed, but not for the better. The virus came first, a plague that devoured nations. Then came the war: a desperate fight for survival between the last of humanity—the residents of Maldir— and the monstrous Armendis race. We called it the Battle for Vengeance, and it ended with the final collapse of humankind. We were lost, until one man with the blood of kings rose up, promising to lead the poor and the lost. He established the IFA, an organization forged in hope.’
Three dead bodies along with Maria lay broken on the forest floor of Madi—a grotesque canvas of blood. Maria’s face, pale and vulnerable, stared sightlessly at the sky as crimson soaked the earth around her. Each breath was a ragged tear in the dense silence, a desperate battle for air.
She wore a suit, a badge pinned to her chest reading IFA. Around her neck hung a heart-shaped locket.
Then—a rustle of leaves. The distinct crunch of a crawling man. She inhaled, a fragile smile blooming on her ruined lips. “Johnny… oh, baby.” Her breath shuddered. “The traitors are dead. It’s done. We’re finally done.”
A tremor filled his voice. “Yeah… I know. I know.”
“Now we have so many things to do,” she murmured, dreams clinging to her fading mind. “Then we’ll be free. Happy. Together.”
Johnny’s hand—gentler than expected—wiped blood from her cheek. “Maybe… but you killed them.”
“What?” Disbelief twisted her face. “That was the mission, Johnny. We finished it.” She tried to rise, failed. “You once asked me if I’d marry you,” she whispered. “I love you, baby.”
His voice broke. “I’m sorry, Maria. I’m so sorry.”
“What happened to you today, John?” she begged, reaching toward him. “Why are you like this?”
Her head shifted. Through blurring vision, she saw it—a dark metallic gleam. A pistol. “Johnny?” The word cracked from her throat.
John was weeping as the forest roared with the gunshot. The world exploded into pain. Then silence. Maria was dead.
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