HellScape

Chapter Eight

The journey back to camp was a quiet one. The weight of their recent battle, and the loss they had suffered, hung over them like a dark cloud. Anakin led the group, his footsteps heavy, each step feeling like it dragged him further into his own sorrow. The others followed in silence, sensing the grief that clung to him and not daring to break the silence with words.

Belle walked close behind Anakin, her gaze often drifting to his back, her concern for him growing with every step. Dexter kept to the rear, his eyes scanning their surroundings out of habit, but his mind was elsewhere, mulling over the events that had transpired and the toll it had taken on their leader.

The path was familiar, winding through the dark, twisted landscape that had become their world. The shadows seemed deeper now, the once-muted sounds of the wasteland now eerily quiet. The group moved as one, their usual banter and strategizing absent, replaced by the quiet understanding of their shared grief.

As they neared the camp, the familiar sight of their makeshift shelter came into view, offering a small sense of relief. The campfire, now just a few glowing embers, marked the center of their little refuge, a place where they could regroup and find some solace, however brief.

Anakin paused as they reached the edge of the camp, his eyes fixed on the dying fire. For a moment, he considered saying something, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he simply walked over to the fire and began to stoke it back to life, his movements slow and deliberate. Belle and Dexter joined him, each of them taking a seat around the fire, their eyes reflecting the flickering flames.

They were back at camp, but the journey wasn’t over. The battles ahead loomed large, and the loss they had suffered would stay with them, a reminder of the price they were paying in this war against the Sins. As the fire grew brighter, casting long shadows around them, they sat in silence, knowing that for now, all they could do was rest and prepare for whatever came next.

Anakin sat by the fire for a while, staring into the flames as they flickered and danced, lost in his thoughts. The weight of the day pressed down on him, and he felt the exhaustion creeping into his bones. With a quiet sigh, he finally stood up and nodded to the others, signaling that he was heading to bed.

"Get some rest, Anakin," Belle said softly, her voice filled with concern. She watched him with a worried expression as he walked toward his tent.

"Yeah, we’ll keep watch," Dexter added, giving Anakin a small nod of understanding.

Anakin didn’t respond, just offered a weary nod before disappearing into his tent. The fabric rustled as he settled inside, and then there was silence.

Belle and Dexter remained by the campfire, the warm glow illuminating their faces as the night deepened around them. For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound.

“He’s taking it hard,” Dexter finally said, breaking the quiet. He poked at the fire with a stick, sending sparks flying into the night sky.

“I can’t blame him,” Belle replied, her voice soft. “Losing his father like that… it’s unimaginable. He needs time.”

Dexter nodded. “But time isn’t something we have much of. Wrath was a tough fight, and there are still more battles ahead.”

“I know,” Belle said, her gaze fixed on the flames. “But we have to be strong for him, for each other. We’ve come this far together, and we’ll keep going, no matter what.”

Dexter looked over at her, his eyes reflecting the same determination. “We will. We’ve got no other choice.”

The fire crackled louder for a moment, and they both fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts. The night stretched on, and despite the darkness surrounding them, the fire kept the chill at bay, offering a small measure of comfort in an otherwise harsh world.