The sky above the gate was burning.
Not with fire alone, but with color - crimson light spilling across the clouds as the planetary gates struggled to remain open. It's towering ring of pale stone flickered like a dying star, sending waves of distorted air across the battlefield.
Earth's defensive line was collapsing.
Soldiers ran through smoke and shattered ground, their armour cracked, their formations long abandoned. Orders were shouted, ignored, and lost beneath the thunder of wings overhead.
Dragons.
They descended through the red sky alongside armored rides, their silhouettes cutting through drifting ash. Each beat of their wings sent dust spiraling across the plains.
Behind them rode the cavalry of Mars - the Ao.
Beautiful faces. Calm eyes. Perfect discipline.
And unstoppable magic.
Blue white sigils flashed across the air as spells struck the ground in precise bursts, forcing human soldiers back step by step.
The Ao did not scream. They did not rage. They advanced like inevitability itself.
Humanity was losing.
Near the shattered remains of a barricade stood a woman gripping a blood - streaked sword. Her armour hung loosely over her swollen stomach, every breath shallow and uneven.
She should not have been there.
But Earth's ruler had emptied cities to sustain the war.
Farmers, craftsmen, mother's - all sent to guard the gates while real soldiers died on distant world.
Another explosion shook the ground. She stumbled, one hand instinctively pressing against her belly.
"Just... a little longer," she whispered.
Around her, retreat turned into panic.
Someone shouted that the eastern gate had fallen. Another cried that dragons were landing behind them.
The air grew colder.
A shadow passed overhead.
She looked up as a massive dragon crashed into the battlefield, it's body tearing through earth and stone before sliding to a halt only a meters away. Dust swallowed everything.
For a moment, silence followed.
The creature was enormous - scales dark as storm clouds, wings torn, a spear of magic still embedded deep within its chest. It's rider lay motionless nearby.
The dragon did not move.
Dead.
At least... it should have been.
A violent tremor ran through its body. One claw twitched, gouging deep lines into the soil as if fighting an enemy no longer there. Even without life, its muscles spammed with terrifying strength.
A Deadbound Dragon.
Even in death, it continued its final battle.
Fear rippled through nearby soldiers. No one dared approach the corpse.
The woman staggered toward its fallen wings, seeking shelter from the chaos - and then the pain came.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Her knees hit the ground as another another contraction stole the air from her lungs.
"No... not now..."
The battlefield blurred around her. Screams faded into distant echoes.
All that remained was the pain and the steady thunder of her own heartbeat.
She understood immediately.
The child was coming.
Tears mixed with dust as she dragged herself closer beneath the dragon's massive wing. The leathery membrane shielded her fron sight, casting her in the shadow we while dust fell like gray snow.
The world outside continued to die.
Minutes felt endless.
And then-
A cry.
Small. Fragile. Alive.
She held the newborn against her chest, shaking with exhaustion. For a brief moment, the war disappeared. There was only warmth, only breath, only the life where none should exist.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered, voice breaking.
"I'm so sorry you were born into this..."
The sounds of battle were growing quieter.
Too quiet.
Through the torn edge of the dragon's wings, armored figures approached - Ao soldiers moving carefully across the field.
She knew what that meant.
The end.
Her arms tightened around the child. Joy should have filled the heart, but fear crushed it instead. There was no future here. No escape.
Slowly she wrapped him in a torn piece of cloth and laid him beneath the dragon's wings, hidden against the still - warm scales.
Her fingers lingered on his cheek.
"Live," she whispered.
Then she stood.
With the last strength left in her body, she ran toward the open field, drawing attention away from the hidden child.
Ao soldiers turned toward her.
Light flashed.
And she disappeared into the smoke.
Time passed.
The battlefield fell silent.
Ash drifted from the air like snowfall.
An Ao soldier walked carefully among the fallen, his expression unreadable. His armour bore the marks of long combat, though his movements lacked the cold certainty of his comrades.
He stopped.
A faint sound reached him - a child's cry.
He followed it cautiously until he reached the dragon's corpse.
The massive claw suddenly jerked, slamming into the earth beside him.
He frozen.
Even dead, the Deathbound dragon fought on.
Carefully, slowly, he stepped beneath the wing - and found the child.
The baby reached upward blindly, tiny fingers grasping his hand.
The soldier raised his dagger.
One swift motion. That was the order.
His hand trembled.
The child's grip tightened.
Warm. Trusting.
For a moment, the battlefield vanished, replacement by a memory - a small hand holding his before he left home for war.
The dagger slipped from his grasp and fell into the dust.
He looked up at the darkened sky, smoke drifting across fading light.
"Maybe..." he murmured softly, "you'll grow wiser than we ever were."
Footsteps approached in the distance.
Quickly, he turned and found a wounded human woman barely alive among the fallen. He placed the child into her arms and met her terrifying gaze.
"Go," he said quietly.
She hesitated only a moment before fleeing toward the horizon.
Behind him, the dragon's body gave one final violent shudder... and then became still at last.
It's battle was finally over.
Far away, the gate flickered once - as if something unseen had taken notice.
And beneath a sky that had witnessed humanity's defeat, a child carried forward the last mercy born from war.