The Civilian didn’t dare return for several days, not until he was sure the place was safe.


He went alone. Just him and the Dog, who had rejoined him on the second day after the explosion.


The shattered Road now stood as a silent witness to everything that had happened. Once a glowing gateway to another world, it now lay collapsed like a dead giant. Twisted wreckage scattered across the ground drew his gaze.A chill ran down his spine.


Out of habit, his hand reached for his face to adjust a mask that wasn’t there. His fingers brushed only bare skin. He froze for a second, then smiled faintly and shook his head. Old habits. It would take time to adjust to a world that was changing again.


He took a deep breath. The air had a strange taste, heavy with dust and ash, but it wasn’t toxic. It didn’t smell like death, as he had feared.


The Dog barked sharply.


The Civilian stopped, startled, and turned toward him.

“What is it?”


The Dog stood stiff, ears pinned back. Then another bark, short, sharp. A warning.


The Civilian looked around but saw nothing. Then, finally, he heard it too.


A soft buzzing.


Shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked up. A scouting drone glided silently overhead, circling the ruined site before hovering briefly above them. He raised a hand in greeting. The drone tilted in response, then continued on its path toward the city center.


The Civilian smiled. Maybe the world out there had finally found the courage to return.


He watched the fading speck for a moment longer, then lowered his gaze and stepped toward the wreckage.

He didn’t know what he was looking for, or if he was even looking for anything, until he saw it.


The helmet.


Lying in a heap of rubble. Slightly dented, scuffed, but still whole.


He bent down and picked it up. It was lighter than he expected. He turned it over in his hands, and there, etched into the edge, was the number: 31.


The last remnant of the Soldier.


He stood in silence for a long while, thinking.


Then, gently, he placed the helmet into his pack, right next to his old breathing mask and the pair of military dog tags.


Each of them a reminder. That someone had been willing to sacrifice everything, so that others could live.


He zipped the bag shut, swung it over his shoulder, and whistled for the Dog, who was busy sniffing around the ruins.


Time to head back to the city.


Time to finally find out what it really means to live.