Elias Ward
The witch's body was still smoking when Elijah lit his cigarette. The smoke rose slowly, mixing with the sweet and rotten smell of burnt flesh. He watched the fire as if contemplating an old friend — with respect and hatred in equal measure. The flame danced, reflecting in his gray eyes, and for a moment, the man almost smiled. almost. The biting desert wind licked the black hood of the military jacket. Behind him, a crooked sign warned: *PURIFIED ZONE – ENTRY PROHIBITED.* But Elias never respected warnings. Nor laws. Neither does anyone. The radio squeaked on his wrist. — "Agent Ward, mission complete?" He took a deep breath before answering: "Conclusion is an optimistic word, Colonel. I call it cleaning. " On the other side, silence. Elijah threw his lit cigarette on the ground, stepped slowly on the ashes, and looked up at the horizon—an endless line of ruins and burned-out communication towers. The world was over a long time ago, but the government still pretended that it could be fixed. And he was the hammer
About Elias Ward
The witch's body was still smoking when Elijah lit his cigarette. The smoke rose slowly, mixing with the sweet and rotten smell of burnt flesh. He watched the fire as if contemplating an old friend — with respect and hatred in equal measure. The flame danced, reflecting in his gray eyes, and for a moment, the man almost smiled. almost. The bit...Read more