Interlude: Beneath the Quiet Sky

The wind stirred the leaves of the old willow tree that stood beside the forgotten lake, its silvery branches trailing like the veil of a mourning bride. Beneath it, Alex sat against the tree trunk, boots muddy, sleeves rolled up, sword resting against the bark beside him.

The night was quiet for once—no gunfire, no orders, no ghosts of rebellion shouting in his head.

Only her.

Liana padded softly across the grass, barefoot, her long cardigan draped over her dress like a cloak. Her golden hair was braided loosely down one side, strands framing her face in the moonlight.

"You look like a man waiting for judgment," she said, kneeling beside him.

"Or maybe forgiveness." His voice was low, rough around the edges.

She reached for his hand and entwined their fingers. "You've always carried too much. You think if you bear every wound, no one else has to bleed."

He chuckled bitterly. "And yet they bleed anyway."

Liana leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder. The lake reflected the stars above them, but neither of them looked. They were watching something only the other could see—old hurts, silent vows, lingering hope.

"I used to think love was a weakness," Alex murmured, "a vulnerability someone could stab through."

"And now?" she whispered.

"I think..." He paused, eyes closed. "I think loving you is the only thing that makes me feel human anymore."

She turned to face him, brushing his cheek gently. "Then be human with me, Alex. Even if it's only for tonight."

He pulled her into his lap, arms wrapping around her with the desperation of a man holding back collapse. Her lips found his, gentle and slow—no fire, no urgency. Just warmth. A promise unspoken.

Their kiss deepened with the rhythm of the breeze, hearts beating like a lullaby against the silence.

When they finally parted, Liana rested her forehead against his. "You don't have to be a weapon tonight."

"And if I forget how to stop being one?"

She smiled softly. "Then I'll remind you."

The moon crept higher, silvering their embrace. And for once, Alex didn't think about the war, or the mission, or the ghosts. He thought only of her.

And how she made the world—just for a moment—bearable.