Bai Yujun watched as the dust settled.
The sun rose as usual.
When the first ray of dawn illuminated the glass curtain walls of the skyscrapers, Zhen Bei stood atop mountains of corpses and seas of blood, sheathing his blade.
His face appeared as he removed his helmet and silently watched the endless yellow dust fade away.
It was all over. They had won. Yet victory was often not entirely joyous; it also carried sorrow. Too many people had given everything for this victory. In the eyes of those far from the flames of war, they were merely numbers, topics to be discussed without end. But to those who had lived through it, it was hell.
Perhaps before long, demon enthusiasts would appear, dressing up as demons to savor some unconventional thrill, utterly ignoring the feelings of the victims' families.
Of course, by then Zhen Bei would already be gone. Out of sight, out of mind.
He dismissed his armor, found a burst water pipe to wash his hair and face, then rummaged up some food from the ruins, picking up an extra portion for Bai as well.
By the river, on the pedestrian path.
Bai Yujun sat on a bench with her arms wrapped around her knees, waiting for sunrise.
Zhen Bei sat down at the other end of the bench, a biscuit between his teeth, and held the plastic bag in his hand toward Bai.
"Want some breakfast I picked up? It's not past its expiration date, and it tastes all right."
Bai turned to look at the things in the plastic bag. They had probably been dug out of the ruins of a supermarket.
Without a word, she took out a tray, set it in the middle of the bench, and pushed it toward Zhen Bei with