Episode 50 : Respite

Zawaq struck Alen's head, smashing it into pieces of flesh that no longer resembled a human head. Zawaq collapsed, lying beside Alen's headless corpse.

Zawaq cried out as loudly as he could. Everyone he loved had perished. His entire family was dead by his own hands and actions.

Dozens of soldiers arrived at sunset, where Zawaq lay. They were all shocked at the sight of him—severely injured.

Zawaq was no longer in the form of a warrior or an invincible green figure of power. At this moment, he was just an ordinary human being, gravely wounded.

The wounds and bruises on Zawaq's body no longer seemed to heal on their own. The Arab soldiers quickly rushed to Zawaq and began treating him.

"Help..." Zawaq uttered in a weak voice.

Zaqwan, who was tending to Zawaq's wounds, looked at his face—his eyes were closed. Zawaq's heartbeat was faint.

"We're helping you, Zawaq! Hang in there!" Zaqwan responded as he continued treating him.

Zawaq pointed a trembling finger toward Alen's headless corpse.

"Burn Alen," Zawaq said before losing consciousness entirely.

"Understood, Zawaq," Zaqwan replied.

A week passed. Zawaq lay on a bed inside a military tent. Zaqwan examined his body using medical tools. Zawaq appeared to be in optimal condition. No wounds or internal injuries remained.

Yet, Zawaq had not awakened from his long slumber. Zaqwan stepped out of the tent. People were cooking, chatting, and cleaning the area.

Children, teenagers, adults, and the elderly were helping one another rebuild their new homes.

Zaqwan strolled away from the tent toward a certain location. Other Arab soldiers were cooking food, preparing drinks, and gathering ingredients for future meals.

Zaqwan stopped at a structure made of bricks, without windows. A tower rose from it, emitting smoke, with only a single door as an entrance.

"How are Zawaq's fallen comrades?" Zaqwan asked the Arab soldiers.

"They have all been cremated. The bones need to be crushed into ashes before being buried," one of the Arab soldiers responded.

"And Zawaq? Has he woken up?" another soldier inquired.

"Not yet. He's still asleep. It's been a week, and he hasn't come out of his coma," Zaqwan replied.

"Let him be. Zawaq is exhausted. He's done so much for us. Truly, a legendary hero," said another Arab soldier who was seated on a nearby round stool.

The next morning, Zawaq awoke. He looked around. He was alone in the military medical tent. He weakly stepped out of the tent.

One of the Arab soldiers who was sitting on a carpet, having breakfast with a group of teenagers, tapped his comrade's shoulder and pointed toward Zawaq.

Several Arab soldiers stood up and escorted Zawaq to an empty seating area. Zawaq had breakfast alongside the Palestinian people and the Arab soldiers.

Two days later, Zawaq regained his full strength. He spent his energy rebuilding destroyed houses, constructing a water supply tower, and installing plumbing systems for water distribution.

Zawaq also helped the locals cultivate crops for food sources. Additionally, his medical expertise was put to use in treating the sick elderly and unwell children.

Five days passed. The Arab soldiers packed their supplies into military trucks, leaving behind only tents, medical supplies, and food provisions. All firearms were loaded onto the transport trucks.

"It looks like we're parting ways again," Zaqwan said, standing beside Zawaq, watching the locals gather and cheerfully chat with one another.

"We'll meet again. I doubt it will take long," Zawaq replied.

"You're right," Zaqwan agreed.

"Thank you for helping me, Zaqwan," Zawaq said, extending his hand for a handshake.

"Thank you too, Zawaq. And I'm sorry for the harsh words I said to you. I also deeply sympathize with your loss of family and friends," Zaqwan expressed sincerely, grasping Zawaq's hand in a firm shake.

"Take care of the people of Palestine for us," Zaqwan added.

"With God's will, I will protect them with all I have," Zawaq replied.

"I really wish you would come back with us. We could definitely find a place for you," Zaqwan admitted.

"This is my place, Zaqwan. This is my birthplace. I know I was originally from the Zionist-occupied territory of Israhell. But I do not stand with them. I stand with humanity, and therefore, Palestine is my home," Zawaq declared.

"Alright, if that's what you've decided," Zaqwan sighed in relief.

Zawaq waved goodbye as the military transport trucks departed. Now, only Zawaq remained with the Palestinian locals.

Meanwhile, an Israhelli general flipped through documents on his office desk. He read a list of Israhelli soldiers and personnel confirmed dead.

Lieutenant David. Deceased.

Alen, a scientist. Deceased.

The general closed the file and pulled out another document. The cover page read: "Classified Information." He opened it.

"Israhelli Invincible Soldier Experiment 3.0."

The Israhelli general focused intently, his eyes glued to the top-secret military report.

Elsewhere, Zawaq was herding goats with a group of children and teenagers. The children and teens laughed and played with the goats in the vast desert plains.

Zawaq kept watch over the surroundings, ensuring the livestock did not wander beyond his sight.

By the afternoon, Zawaq and the group began returning home with their herd. But as he looked around, unease crept into his heart. A bad feeling.

His eyes suddenly locked onto a figure lying prone atop a distant hill. A soldier in an Israhelli uniform. An M1 Garand rifle lay in his hands.

The trigger was pulled.

Zawaq turned toward the children and teenagers accompanying him. One of the young boys was shot in the stomach. His white shirt turned red, soaked in blood.

At a military field hospital, Zawaq laid the wounded boy onto a bed and began treating him immediately. The boy's mother wept outside the tent, comforted by family members.

As Zawaq stepped out of the surgical tent, the boy's relatives rushed toward him, desperate for news. Zawaq shook his head.

That night, an Israhelli military camp burned, explosions lighting up the darkness. Israhelli soldiers fled in panic, their pants soaked with urine.

A lone figure emerged from the flames—a green-skinned being with glowing red eyes. His entire body was drenched in blood. In each hand, he dragged the upper halves of two Israhelli soldiers, their torsos severed, intestines trailing along the ground.

The fire behind Zawaq blazed just as fiercely as the rage in his heart. His eyes burned with hatred and vengeance.

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The Destroyer

Written by Rayznovel