After Ashes

The convoy crawled through the wreckage of the Midlands, the soft rumble of its engines a counterpoint to the tense silence within. The air inside was thick, weighed down by more than the smell of blood and smoke.

Commander Cray sat bound in the corner, his face bruised but still defiant. His sharp eyes flitted between The Vanguard, taking in their silence like a predator watching prey.

World-Shaman sat sprawled against the wall, lazily flicking ash from his cigarette. The glow of its ember reflected faintly in his bloodshot eyes as he exhaled smoke into the stagnant air. "So, are we going to talk about it?"

Fantasia glanced up, her expression unreadable. "Talk about what?"

"Oh, I don't know." Shaman grinned, though there was no humour in it. "Maybe it's the fact that we've officially crossed into 'what if we ruled the world' territory?" He gestured with the cigarette, the ember tracing a lazy arc. "Feels like a big moment. Someone should make a speech."

"No one's ruling anything," Swift Angel said from the front of the transport, his tone clipped. His wings were folded tightly, the polished edges catching faint glints of light.

"Sure we're not," Shaman replied, dragging out the words. "Just like we weren't thinking it when Fantasia pitched the whole 'one government' plan back there. You know the one—the one where we save the world by putting it in a chokehold?"

Fantasia's glowing gaze flicked toward him, her voice like ice. "It's not about control. It's about unity. The world can't survive like this. We've all seen it."

"And you think making yourself queen fixes that?" Shadowleaf asked from her seat near the back, her green eyes sharp. "Because let me tell you, that's the fastest way to burn what's left of this world to the ground."

Fantasia didn't flinch. "And doing nothing is better? Letting warlords and scavengers claw over what's left while the rest of the world starves? You know what that leads to: more bombs, more death."

Shadowleaf shook her head. "And who decides what's right? You? Angel? Shaman? We're not gods. We're just people with powers."

"People with powers," Dark Ant said, his voice calm and precise. "And what does that make us? It makes us the only ones who can decide."

Shadowleaf turned to him, her tone incredulous. "Listen to yourself. You're talking like a dictator."

"No, I'm talking like someone who understands reality," Ant replied, meeting her gaze without flinching. "These people don't listen to reason. They don't respond to negotiations. The only way to stop chaos is with order. Absolute order."

"And that's what scares me," Shadowleaf muttered, her voice low but steady.

Cray chuckled from the corner, drawing their attention. "She's right to be scared. I've seen what happens when people think they can rule with a clean conscience." He leaned forward as far as his restraints would allow, his smile faint but cutting. "You think you're different? You're not. You're just like us."

Swift Angel turned his head sharply, his grey eyes cold. "You don't get to talk about morality. Not after what you've done."

Cray raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Oh, and what have I done? Hoarded water? Built defences? Kept my people alive? Yeah, that's real evil. Tell me, Angel—what's your body count for today?"

The air turned electric, tension crackling between them.

Angel stood slowly, his wings unfurling just enough to catch the dim light. "We're trying to fix the world. You're tearing it apart."

Cray barked a laugh, bitter and raw. "Fix it? By what—destroying everyone who doesn't fit into your vision of paradise? You're not fixing anything. You're just making a bigger graveyard and calling it peace."

Shaman smirked, but his voice was edged with bitterness. "He's got you there, Angel. There's not a lot of room for rebuttal when the body count speaks for itself."

"Enough." Angel's voice cut through the air like a blade, silencing the transport. He stepped closer to Cray, his expression carved from stone. "You've spent your life making people choose between starving or dying. Don't pretend you have the moral high ground."

"And you've spent yours pretending you're not a monster," Cray shot back.

Fantasia leaned forward, her gaze locked on Cray. "This isn't about morality. It's about survival. The bombs didn't care who was right or wrong. They destroyed everything. And if we don't do something, it'll happen again."

"And what does that look like?" Shadowleaf asked, her voice quieter now. "A single government? A Vanguard-controlled world? Tell me you don't see the irony in that."

Fantasia's expression hardened. "The only irony is how people like you cling to ideals while the world burns. If we don't take control, someone worse will."

World-Shaman exhaled smoke, his grin fading into something colder. "She's not wrong, you know. Power's a funny thing. Doesn't like a vacuum. Someone's always waiting to grab it." He let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "But the thing about grabbing power is, it grabs you back. And it doesn't let go."

Dark Ant glanced at him. "And what's your solution, Shaman? Step aside and let chaos reign?"

"My solution?" Shaman's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Don't pretend we're saints. If we do this, we own it. No delusions, no righteous speeches. We rule, we bleed for it, and we pay the damn price."

Shadowleaf shook her head, her hands gripping the edges of her seat. "This isn't what we're supposed to be. We're supposed to protect people, not rule them."

"And what if ruling is the only way to protect them?" Fantasia asked sharply.

"Then maybe we shouldn't be the ones protecting them," Shadowleaf replied.

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of their words sinking into each of them.

As the convoy rolled on, Swift Angel stared out at the ruins stretching endlessly toward the horizon. Fantasia's words echoed in his mind, their cold logic gnawing at him.

He knew what was coming. The world needed saving, and saving it might mean breaking everything they'd sworn to uphold.

But how many lines could they cross before they became the very thing they were fighting against?