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Victory Pt. I

"Enough!" Castilla's voice boomed across the camp, commanding immediate attention. The battlefield fell silent as she emerged, her presence authoritative and intimidating. The early morning sun cast long shadows, illuminating the scene with an eerie glow. The remnants of smoke from the battle hung in the air, mingling with the scent of blood and fear. The metallic tang of the bloodshed mingled with the earthy scent of the trampled grass, creating a nauseating mix that seemed to seep into the very soul.

The camp was a chaotic tableau of the aftermath of war: bodies strewn across the ground, some still and others writhing in pain. The sky above was a canvas of reds and oranges, the dawn breaking through the smoky haze. The remnants of campfires flickered weakly, casting a ghostly light over the fallen warriors. Birds circled overhead, their cries a mournful counterpoint to the silence below.

"Bring Cyrus and Agnes forward," Castilla ordered, her voice cold and calculating. "If they resi
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