Story 18: A Fistful Of Kharn

A spectre of the battle undulating in noir darker than black, with two points of red. Two chainaxes roared in her monstrous hands, both licking their chops for flesh, sinew, blood, and bone. A terrible grin split that youthful face with the eyes that had seen far too much. Wanting to see more blood, this spectre chopped through the corpses, wondering which one had just enough life in it to give some meaning to her own.

This was Kharn Valnikov, Warmaster for the Ninth, dancer on the edge of death. To one she was a retarded, snow-shoveling yokel that required a firm, guiding hand. To another a friend, maybe, if her mind could only keep its current set of memories straight. To a few, their lover, but only one knew that to be true.

It was a good slaughter. Many lay dying or dead around her. She killed in so many different ways, working up very little sweat. The spectre was panting, but not from exertion. Killer aroused, she brought her chainaxes to her face, turning them off beforehand. In the blackness of death, a pink tongue slithered out...

As an outsider, one of those defeated this day, you didn't know anything about her. You labeled her a monster, unholy in her prowess, and beyond that, you didn't need to know. You were a psyker, struck down by Kharn before your time, and now lying in your own pool of blood, you had just enough energy to zap her. So, with a shaking, red hand, you reached out to her, and grabbed yourself a handful of Kharn flesh.

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| Housewife Kharn |


Black hair flying behind her, the former Warmaster rushed the laundry room with a binful of dirty clothing. With military efficiency, she flipped the clothing into the washer and closed the lid, punching in a few options before turning the machine on. It came to life, cleaning the stains away from the fabric. Placing the bin in a corner, Kharn let out a tiny sigh.

She didn't expect a domestic life to be like this, so easily conquered, so easily mastered. Her rise to Warmaster was harder than this, and that still felt like a pushover to her. Everything was done, or nearly done - the laundry being that - and it was only one in the afternoon. She was growing bored, and restlessness followed suit.

What would Souji think if he saw her like this? Probably say, 'For Pete's sake, Kharn, relax! You more than deserve it.' She didn't see it that way. There were still lingering feelings that she lived past her prime, that it was nothing but downhill from here, that she needed one last battle to give herself meaning.

She saw and felt Souji slapping her cheek over and over again, clear anger and worry in his eyes. She was a wreck that fateful night, acting more on impulse than reason. What happened afterwards brought a smile to her lips, a clawed hand rubbing one cheek as her eyes became teary. A blush painted her cheeks red, her heart feeling fuzzy and warm. Then she blinked her eyes several times, killing the tears, fortifying her emotions.

She still had chores to do before Souji returned from his job.

With how mindless her chores had become, Kharn was able to free her mind for other tasks, like think over the past. Things had calmed down, and fate had chosen a different set of characters to use. Seeing that, they retired from the Officio, with blessings from Kyubey, and decided to try out a more normal life; although there were certain extraordinary elements still around, Kharn recalled with a grin. Which was a highlight for the both of them, since you couldn't bring the scientist out of someone once they were that accomplished at it.

Almost done, Kharn increased her speed, wanting to be done before Souji arrived.

---

"Hey, Kharn, I'm hone!" Souji's voice flowed through their house, a middle class affair they thought was cute. It was decorated to both their tastes, some rooms decorated according to compromises, but overall both were content with it. They didn't own much, but with what they had they were content with; and one thing that they had were each other.

Souji worked as a fish merchant down near the docks. He didn't catch fish, just displayed them and kept them rotated, sold them, even bought a few. Which was what he did before coming back home today, three trout dangling from his right hand. Still dressed in work attire, he stood at the front door, closing it as his eyes looked around for Kharn.

"Welcome home." Kharn replied, rounding the corner. Her eyes met the dead fish eyes, their clouded milkiness displaying nothing but mortality. "Ah, dinner?"

"Yeah. It's been a while since we last had fish, so I thought this would be a pleasant change." Souji smiled as Kharn crept closer, a smile on her own lips.

"We have eaten fish plenty enough this week." She said, taking the school of fish into her fleshmetal hands. With fish in hands, she kissed Souji on the lips, and he reciprocated, both of them holding it for a minute before breaking away.

"This is a different kind of fish than the others, Kharn."

"I will cook it properly then." The two made their way to the kitchen until Souji stopped, realizing what she said.

"Wait a minute, 'properly'? I've been eating undercooked fish?"

Kharn kept on walking with the house filling up in her laughter. Souji sighed and shook his head, a smirk cracking his face. A good pulling of the legs on Kharn's part. He went to undress and redress in home attire, joining Kharn in the kitchen.

She was the cook - she had the chef's hat and apron to prove it - and as such, the kitchen warped itself to her style. It became something cruder than your normal kitchen, with lines here and there indicating where she became chop happy with her knife. The stove and grill had both expanded in size, the bulk of her meals relaying heavily on their holy promethium. Some ingredients vanished, while others were kept in vast quantities, and the types became slanted toward one direction.

Kharn would admit to herself that this was the most fun for her in her entire day. Adding in spices, herbs, oils, and vegetables into her wok, she grilled the trout with a ferocity only matched in battle. Grinning, she bounced the wok into the air, projecting the food in an arc with oil dripping on the fire, causing flames to erupt upward. It got very hot in the kitchen.

Souji walked in that very moment, casting a glance at Kharn's antics.

"Don't burn yourself." He murmured as he passed behind her, going to set up the table.

"I don't ever!" Kharn stated, still playing. Her hands felt the intense heat, but it would take a fire much hotter than the one she was working with to burn her metalflesh.

"And don't get your turtleneck stained." He added, frowning at her after placing their setting. "You look nice in it. Be a shame to have it stained."

Kharn set the wok down and turned to Souji, giving him a gentle smile. "Thanks."

The fish was cooked. Souji seated Kharn and served the food on the plates. Where Kharn had brutality, crudeness, and fire, Souji knew how to display the food to both beautify it and to entice the viewer to eat it. He gave her the first place with a grin, happy with his handiwork, before seating himself with his own dish.

"This looks very good, Kharn." Souji said, grabbing his utensils. He began to cut his fish into tiny chunks.

"Thank you." Kharn replied, mimicking Souji.

The fish chewed, the vodka running down their throats, the Valnikov family truly began their dinner.

---

With dinner dishes cleaned up, the two went to do their respective after dinner activities then joined again two hours later.

Originally the house came with no basement, but both Souji and Kharn fixed that. Using the Officio's resources, they constructed a room under the house. Made from glass, metal, and science, it had only one purpose, one point, and in the center of this room was that purpose. A circular machine, enclosed perfectly, with only a few windows allowing one to peer inside it. A door in the middle of the front was the only way in, and it was always locked. No one went in, even though it had room enough for one body to stretch.

"Please keep an eye on the readouts, Kharn." Souji requested, arms crossed. The way he stood implanted the image of his lab coat billowing behind him, face resolutely facing forward. Secretly she enjoyed seeing this side of him. The scientist in his habitat, full bloom. Kharn nodded, manning a console.

A special friend had requested this.

Connecting soul gems directly to witches, manipulating magical girl energies, and advancing technology step by step made the creation of black holes standard procedure for the two.

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| Vestiges Of The Past |


"Daddy, daddy!" Kharn scampered toward the Warden's office, where her father worked. He was the warden of this gulag, and she was the Warden's daughter. He sat at a desk and filled out paperwork that dealt with running this gulag, and on this desk sat something she had a keen interest in: a black skull, with two diamonds in its eye sockets.

"Come here, little Kharn." His gruff voice rumbled, scooting back in his chair and throwing his arms open. Kharn jumped into his lap, hugged her father while he shifted, placing her fully on his legs. "Daddy, why's that skull black?"

Father's eyes twinkled at her. He reached for the skull and with one burnt hand latched onto the skull. Positioned on his palm upright, he displayed it to his daughter. "Do you know whose skull this is?" Kharn shook her head.

"The previous warden." He paused, gathering the right story to tell her. "He was a bad man. A rotten man who ruled with an unfair, iron fist. He mistreated all who came here, and was far more brutal than I." Kharn gasped at that. He nodded, continuing the story. "His soul was black, and that blackness stained his skeleton."

"Then why are these here?" Kharn pointed at the diamonds. Her father's lips stretched, the burn marks on his face making his smile more jagged; but Kharn could still see the warmth they possessed.

"He was a thief, and stole from all the new prisoners. These are mine, when I was given this assignment. When I learned of his sticky fingers, I stuck them in. So I can remember that part of him."

Kharn nodded, taking in the story of this warden. The black skull still intrigued her. It was something precious.

"Do you want to see more, Kharn?" Without hesitation Kharn nodded. The warden placed her onto her feet, stood up himself, and went over to grab his hat...

---

Kharn watched the line of new arrivals shuffle into the compound. She stood on the walls with the on-looking guards, gentle breeze playing with her growing hair. She had been the warden's daughter for some time now, and the guards had, more or less, taken a liking to her. She knew the layout very well. Some said it was dangerous for her to be around, that she would be harmed, be used as a tool by one of the prisoners. Her father shrugged, saying she was more than capable of defending herself, and that it was teaching her plenty. So far, no trouble arose.

Kharn enjoyed watching the new arrivals, seeing the new kinds of people enter her tiny, yet colorful world. Political dissidents, petty criminals, warm people killing for the wrong reasons, or those simply trying to survive. They all came in different flavors, and she often interacted with them. Eyes leaving one individual, she laid her sights upon another, that caught and held her gaze, that stirred something deep in her.

A funny feeling grew in her, something that she couldn't comprehend immediately, but made her heart jitter.

A blonde. Cute face, if a little dirty and gaunt. Eyes that were striking, always ready, waiting, for the next terrible thing. Sharp hair spiked in all the right ways, it looked dirty, but if, as Kharn had imagined, cleaned up, would shine brilliantly. When she disappeared from sight, Kharn went to the other side, leaning over to see her reappear, still shuffling her way to be processed.

She found out her heart couldn't stop beating like a trapped bird, that her breathe was stuck in her throat. She swallowed, suddenly thirsty. For what, she trembled silently at, she could only begin to guess.

---

"Hello, my name is Kyuubey!" The white cat introduced itself to the girl, its cherry red gaze on her. The girl looked back, glaring a tiny bit, thinking now of all times wasn't the appropriate time for a cat to be talking to her. A riot had broken out, one that required her father's attention.

The cat, on the other hand, didn't mind her silence.

"Your father is having a tough time keeping order. He won't be able to last without your help." The girl gave him another glare, but steadied it on him longer. Her mind churned over what it was saying, despite how impossible it was for any cat to talk to be understood in such a vocal manner.

"... My da--- father's an accomplished soldier, he has handled worse." She finally deigned it a reply.

"The prisoners have the place to themselves. It is like being behind enemy lines. You can only do so much with a handful of guards, with such limited resources." The cat replied, scratching absent-minded at its ear. The face never changed, the eyes never blinked, the smile never ceased. It was creepy to her.

"... What do you suggest?" Kharn asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Make a contract with me, and become a puella magi!" Kyuubey happily announced, finally closing its eyes and flexing its weird ears and ear appendages. It actually bounced a little.

"Contract...? Puella magi?"

"I can grant you a wish, and in exchange, you become a magical girl!"

Kharn looked back at the office door, which wasn't physically locked, but locked with trust, trust from her father to stay put and away from danger.

"Just think of how much help you would be to your father." Kyuubey intone, prying its eyes into her. Little remarks like that helped a lot, Kyuubey had found out. The silence was the driving force to it, causing the person to work themselves into a lather over their situation, over their wish.

Kharn fell victim to this tactic. She turned to him, fully, not glaring as much as before.

"A wish?" Kyuubey nodded.

"Then I wish...

... To be strong like my father!"

---

The empty parking lot of an office building. Night time, with no moon out and blacker clouds bloating out the stars.

Empty of civilians, but not of two Officio trucks with a few teams of magical girls tromping around, looking busy.

Kharn had stepped out of the barrier, had been examined by Kyuubey himself and given a report on the situation, a status of objectives. Taken care of, paid, and idling around just to see how this played out, she examined the reinforcements, but in that skimming glance something caught her attention. She focused on the eye catching detail, and found the color of wheat.

A vindicare, going by her kit, with her face proportioned in just the right way to be considered cute, pretty even. She stood with two others, looking at a PDA one held for her, but mainly her eyes drifted over to the barrier.

Kharn's gut reacted the same nevertheless, her heart beating hard, her breathe catching in her throat. Time stretched out before her eyes, her mind bringing up memories.

She won't repeat past mistakes.

She walked up to the vindicare, hoping she had her best smile on, her best friendly look, despite the cuts and injuries she sustained.

Kharn cleared her throat. All she could hear were the beats of her heart. This was a much more nerve wracking moment than what she experienced earlier. "Hey."

"Hey." The vindicare, who was glancing at the PDA, diverted her attention to Kharn. Her heart nearly stopped at those eyes. Such a pure color. Eyes that were sharp, watching everything, waiting for something terrible to happen. She swallowed, steeling her nerves. It was time to pop the million dollar question.

"After this, wish to grab a drink with me?"

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| Teaching |


"S-S-S-Skulls for the Skulls Throne!" The girl stuttered out, going red at the cheeks.

"Gahahhaa, try again, onee-chan." Her older sister instructed, grinning.

"Why you!" Elizabeta gritted her teeth, now thoroughly embarrassed, and charged. She swung flimsy, allowing the more experienced Kharn to sidestep her and flip her over onto her back. Kharn sat on her younger sister's stomach, bending over her to pin her arms to the floor. Face to face, Kharn's grin looked terrorfying.

"What did we learn?" Kharn asked, eyes half closed. She observed her sister closely.

"Nnn.." She struggled against her superior might, all of it accumulating into her simply wiggling underneath like a worm. "Oooo! You cheated!"

"Hah. No, oneechan. I cheated nowhere. You mistakenly thought I was easy pickings. What did we learn?"

Elizabeta glared at her.

"Come on, Elizabeta. I want to know what you learned from this." Kharn was about to tickle her when Elizabeta spoke.

"I learned that you're a cheater!"

Kharn sighed and hung her head. A laugh built up, taking over her body, until she breathed in and let out another sigh. "You're such a stubborn girl, Elizabeta. You are of my own flesh and blood, but it'll keep you from learning, da? Since you can't see straight, I'll tell you your mistake."

"My mistake in-"

"Hush, hush. You charged while emotionally charged. Bad, since you will be blind to sound judgment. Either learn to control your emotions, or go in battle emotionless." With that she let go of her sister, poking her on the nose before standing up. She helped her up, the younger of them with a hurt ego.

"When you say 'Skulls for the Skull Throne,' you have to mean it!" Kharn said, hands tightening into balls. Elizabeta rubbed her arm, listening but very unhappy about it.

"It's just so... embarrassing to say it like that."

"Nothing embarrassing about it! You want their skull, and must make them believe your desire for their skull! Is simple like that." She then demonstrated how to properly shout the phrase. Even though Kharn was her sister, Elizabeta felt herself shaking a little in fear.

"You're a lunatic, onee-sama! Shouting that wastes time, time for you to be charging them!"

"That's why you charge WHILE shouting it! Is smarter that way, da?" Kharn lightly slapped Elizabeta on the shoulder. Elizabeta scrunched her eyebrows together.

"Lets try that again." Kharn turned and walked away. Elizabeta saw her opening. One leg after the other, she charged her taller sister, letting out a less awkward war cry. Kharn turned again, delivering an arcing kick. Elizabeta, through rookie's luck, dodged the sharp foot, and threw a mightier punch than before, anger harnessed. She was better than her sister, it was just her sister had years worth of experience that she didn't. But if the tables were turned, and she had that experience, she would be stronger than her.

Kharn narrowly dodged her punch, bringing her returning leg down on her sister's back, soundly thumping her to the floor.

"You cheater!" Elizabeta cried, glaring daggers up at her.

"All's fair in love and war, oneechan." Kharn purred. Once again she helped her sister up, quite pleased with the beating she was giving her. It was all apart of the teaching, apart of the training she was bestowing upon her. She was taught it built character, did away with fear of harm, and instilled a sense of risk. Since she shared her blood, she would pummel her coal of a sister into a diamond that would even outshine herself.

Her eyes scanned her body, noting the signs of damage, but she had nothing critical; except for her pride, which did needed a good thrashing.

"Better, Elizabeta, but still poor. You almost got me, but you should have--"

"Shut up, cheater!" Elizabeta snapped and stomped off.

Kharn reached out to her sister then sighed, letting her arm drop. No use in going after her.

Elizabeta exited with naught a word spared, her hand rubbing at her bruised shoulder, while her mind reeled from her bruised ego, and tried assuaging it.

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| Drinking, Forgetful Moon |


Behind the studio that Magical Girl Noir filmed in was a grassy hill. On that hill was a small bundle of trees that you couldn't call a forest, but offered a faint illusion of one. The show was on break for a while now that the current story arc finished and it was time to unwind, refresh oneself, and come back with renewed energy to act.

That was how writer slash producer expressed the rest period.

Everyone went back into the city to enjoy themselves, however, one Chiaki Matsuda was still present near the studio. On the grassy hill she sat with a bottle of sake and two cups. The normal method of consumption for Chiaki was with an ochoko, but she had invited a friend over and had taken the necessary precautions to make her feel more at home.

And come she would. At a glance it would be natural for them to ignore each other outside their work but life was full of small contradictions, and they were one of them.

".. You do like this place, Chiaki." Came a voice, haughty in tone. Chiaki looked for the source, smiling a little when she found it. Short black hair, long arms and legs, and a dress that screamed rich socialite. This was her friend, the actress for Kharn. Chiaki gave a hesitant nod.

"Y-yes, I do. Is-isn't the moon pretty?"

Kharn stared up at the moon, then shrugged. "I suppose? ... Got a place for me to sit down?" Kharn asked hesitantly, frowning at the grass. Chiaki scooted to the left side of the laid out blanket, patting next to her a few times before playing with the sake bottle. Kharn joined her, sitting down and bringing her knees to her chest. The one thing they didn't need to add anything to when dressing her up as Kharn.

Fortunately for Chiaki, they didn't have to for her either. But for Madoka, she had to downsize to fit the character description.

"You don't smell of blood today." Chiaki said after taking a whiff of the night air, opening the bottle and grabbing a glass.

"Idiot. I've had plenty of time to wash that horrible smell off. I can't believe I accepted that role in the first place. If I had known they would go that far with the details, I would've-"

"H-here, Kharn." Chiaki ferried a cup of sake to Kharn with both hands clasping it. Kharn, interrupted in mid sentence, grabbed the bottle before looking where it was.

"Thanks." Kharn murmured. Holding onto the glass, waiting for Chiaki to pour her own drink, Kharn looked around. At the full moon which filled the night sky, at the spattering of trees and at the studio behind her. She found it hard to believe that someone enjoyed this place. It wasn't what she called scenic.

With a glass in Chiaki's hand, Kharn sipped from hers, feeling the texture and sensation of sake going down her throat.

"Can I see that bottle?"

"Hmm? Oh! Yeah, sure." Chiaki squeaked, giving the bottle to Kharn. The moon gave enough light to get the bigger words to visibility but the smaller wording was problematic with Kharn. "At least you managed to get the refined stuff." She muttered, placing it in between them.

Silence. A comfortable silence, with the two drinking from their cups occasionally. Chiaki watched the moon with an admirer's gaze while Kharn looked at all the dirty vegetation, then she noticed her friend's unmoving form.

"What do you see when you're looking at the moon, Chiaki?" Kharn asked after a moment's study of the shy girl.

"Ah... what do I see?" Chiaki repeated, face half illuminated by the moonlight.

"Yeah, what do you see."

Chiaki stared up at the moon again, and a minute of silence stretches out between the two. "I... only see the moon. It... it isn't... why I stare isn't because of what I see, but how I feel."

"How you feel?"

"Mm, yeah. The moon makes me feel good. Seeing it like this makes me... smile. To my soul." What she said was true, for a smile creased her lips, the one eye radiating nothing but joy.

"Makes you feel good, huh?" Kharn murmured, looking at her friend like her friend was with the moon.

"Mmhmm." Chiaki happily replied, smiling at Kharn before turning to face the moon once again.

Kharn looked at the moon, searching for what she meant, for what she felt. "I just don't see it." Kharn gave up, drinking the last of the sake in her glass before pouring herself another half glass.

Chiaki breathed in, then released it in a content sigh. "S-so... how's everyone?" Kharn looked at her and noticed how flushed her cheeks were. Looked like the alcohol was starting to affect her half-chinese friend, mellowing her innate shyness.

"Well," Kharn shifted, now sitting cross legged. "I don't know. They've been doing their own plans without telling me."

"Oh but they m-must've spoken briefly on their plans before leaving the studio."

"Yeah they did, actually. Madoka said something about going to a few night clubs. Kyouko and Sayaka both mentioned going shopping, then looked at each other and started to make an uproar about the whole thing. Mami... sort of disappeared, but had this graceful look to her before that. That writer took his white cat back home with him."

"Hahah and how about you?"

"Me? Well... I stayed at home, marveling at how well planted the flowers were. My gardener has a great eye for placement."

"And what about me? Did I say anything about what I was going to do on my free time?"

"Hmm?" Kharn mauled over what she said, finding it to be very strange. "Why ask me? Don't you know what you did?" Kharn narrowed her eyes at her, leaning forward to get a better look of her face.

"Uh-uh." Chiaki shook her head, a concerned expression peering back at Kharn.

"Come on, Chiaki. Don't pull that 'I have Amnesia' card. I won't believe you."

"I'm not kidding, Kharn! I don't remember what happened before coming here!" Chiaki pouted, eyes wide.

Kharn stared at her, trying to decipher what she saw. Was she lying? Pulling her leg? Or was she legit, and could be suffering from an odd bout of amnesia?

"It's the truth." Chiaki assured her. Hard to disbelieve her, despite how flushed her cheeks were, with a face like that. Kharn scrunched eyebrows up, a sigh passed her lips.

Blub blub blub. She refilled Chiaki's glass.

"You're Chiaki Matsuda, actress of a magical girl known as Murderface, who suffers amnesia just like you are right now." Her tongue takes on a soft edge, reassuring her friend of past sins, something she rarely, if ever, did before. "What you did for your vacation I have no idea, since you're generally the shy--- what are you laughing at?!"

Chiaki had been trying to hold it on, but was having a hard time now that Kharn was listing details off to her. "Hahahah, oh, oh, Kharn, hahahah!!" She was losing her composure.

"You... you lied to me!" Her tone went to outrageous arrogance, flames sparking in her eyes. She had honestly believed her! Chiaki nodded, a tiny ball of giggles.

Kharn lifted the bottle and was about to throw it at her when Chiaki intercepted her.

"Noo! Don't spill any, Kharn! That stuff made a hole in my wallet!"

"You're a well paid actress, you can easily afford more!"

"Nooo! Not with how my bills are! Really, don't spiiiillll iiit!"

"Hhahaha, you lied to me, you floozy! You're such a snake while drunk!"

"Hahahah you're laughing, Kharn~"

"No I'm not, hahaha, you're a horrible person for pulling that on me, hahahahah."

Two friends played tug of war with a mostly empty bottle of sake, devolving into a fit of giggles as the intoxicating substance takes hold. The full moon shone on, illuminating the spectacle with soft ash colors, under the blue, blue sky.

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Your powers did something random, beyond your control, and instead of zapping her to a crisp, you had delved right into her past, present, and future. You came back to your own body, your own consciousness, gasping for breathe like a diver under too long. Your hand weakened its grip, but you still held her flesh. You weren't prepared for that.

The knife-like feet were still in front of you, and pivoting your gaze upward, you noticed red pinpoints in the blackness staring down at you. Oddly enough, it was as if you got to know her a little better. All that hostility evaporated and now, only saw a friend before you. A grave's serenity enveloped your being, a genuine smile creased your pale lips. It wouldn't be so bad, after all, to be taken out by someone like Kharn.

"Go on... Kill me. I won't let you ta-take another step." Your grip tightened minutely on her skin, pitifully drawing your head nearer to her. Your circlet bore your soulgem, and it was very open to her strike. You had no energy left, that escapade into her taking what was left, so you made a show of preparing to zap her to fool her to striking.

Kharn rose her blood drenched arm, the bigger of the two chainaxes grinding the air just over her black hair. She would swing it down and kill you... You kept your eyes open, unafraid to your death blow...

It never came. She saw through your act, getting rid of your scrying hand. She knelt, placing both chainaxes on either side, and said something in Russian. You didn't understand it, no longer in Kharn's being, and didn't make a single reply. You just... watched, as she grabbed some of your sandy locks, turning your head as she examined it. She said a few more russian words, content with your silence. She let go of your hair, now felt your face, tracing the jawline with brutally sharp fingers. Next came the mouth, the tip of her finger tickling you ever so lightly.

With a sigh of resignation, she whispered, her tone turning intimate, rubbing the bridge of your nose before giving the tip of it a playful poke. Standing up, chainaxes in hands, she left you surrounded with the horrors of war, weakly staring at her retreating form.

You were spared.