The Resurrection Game: The last Winners

Chapter #30~ Another war

Breathing in slowly, I gazed solemnly at the now darkening red sky. The clouds are black, thunderous as the wind begun to howl an almost melancholic song, the cold breeze's fingers feeling all over our bodies. It was becoming chilly. Hiding timidly behind the clouds, the red firey ball in the sky wheezed flickered like it was dying of some unknown cause. The once full with life trees now stood bleak, broken and black on the horizon, where a grey castle laid in its dying glory with twisted towers covered in a blanket of vomit green moss and a fallen draw bridge.

Ten thousand men stood at the gates of the castle, ready for our offense. The waiting, the anticipation was slowly driving them to the brink of madness; it was clear by their clustered disorganisation. I had seen it once before.

Lucy's soldiers were of hundreds and thousands; there was no way they could survive. Their armour was sliver and gold, the red capes with black pentagrams stitched onto the back flowing in the breeze. They were clearly more sophisticated, more ready.

A sudden hand had planted itself onto my shoulder and I tilted my head up to see Brain looking at the castle. "Alex..." He begun, but he didn't even get another word out of him before Lucy stood on top of a grey, uneven boulder and addressed to all of her soldiers, shouting, "For five hundred years, this is what we've been training for."
The murmur of the crowd becomes silent at my mom's cold harsh voice. I couldn't help but to begin to worry for her mental health- it was clearly spiraling down into the depths of her anger.
"For five hundred years we've been training," Lucy repeats again, looking to all of her comrades as she raises her left hand in a fist in the air, "for this day! The day that the underdogs will overthrow their tyrant ruler!" An uproar of cheers and raised left fists litter the sky. I only stood there, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Shouting to be heard over her peers, Lucy pointed her hand towards the lonely castle, and the cattle of unready men, "We will be victorious and earn our freedom!"

And then, the uproar of cheers became a furious battle cry as men and women alike began to charge like wild bulls. The flapping wings of the wyverns stole the noises of feet upon mud, metal against metal and guns cocking ever so loudly. As I glanced up at Lucy, I saw that the shimmering youth had drained from her eyes, now replaced with a new red hungery glee.
"Mom!" I tried to cry out, but the noise drowned out my pleas as I was unwillingly pushed forwards into a fruitless battle.

The Prophetess' words bounced around my head like a ball of daggers as she held my hands meekly in her death bed: The blood of the innocent will be nothing compared to the growing grief of your blood will suffer. Especially your birthmaker. Do not fall into His jaws, young king.
I was pretty sure she was describing this exact moment.

Everything was suffocating. The sea of bodies packed tightly together, some sprinting, other moving hesitantly, but all eventually inevitably moving forwards. The shouting made it difficult for me to hear my own breathing, and my eyes blurred for a moment. Afraid, I looked around frantically for Lucy.

And that was when it caught my eye- Ducias was standing on top of a large black boulder with sickening yellow moss growing on the side. Horror began to creep into my heart as I saw his face; it was emotionlessly blank besides from a wide spidery smile which had spread itself across his features. His body language was tilted and hunched, his right foot before his left. He had appeared to have lost his character and his personality and was replaced by a doll.
Flooding past Dacias, the crowd of people became faceless compared to what was clearly in Ducias' hand.
A small device, with a red button.

"Mom!" I screeched at the top of my lungs when I saw her at the top of the crowd. She turned round to my direction and I saw her eyes widen with realised horror and shock.

And then, pure whiteness.