No matter how many times he saw it, dead bodies always made Ever uncomfortable. Today an entire battalion was brought in. They ran out of spaces on the cots, so bodies were stacked together like sardines in a can. There was so much death in the room Ever could hear its cold, malicious calling and feel the heavy weight of it on his shoulders. However, he couldn’t allow himself to feel remorse. Not here, not now. 

This was business. He had to look at these bodies as numbers, not lives.  

“How many?” He ordered while stepping further into the room. 

The Kolverine closest to him straightened his spine. “One thousand, sir.” 

Ever struggled to keep down the sour taste in his throat. One thousand soldiers, all bought in at the same time, with no signs of injury, yet no beating hearts. “Cause of death?” He replied, 

The Kolverine opened and closed his mouth, the words caught in his throat. “Unknown, sir.” 

Ever raised his eyebrows. “Unknown?” He questioned. “So you’re telling me that there are a thousand dead soldiers in this room. A thousand highly trained, extremely valuable soldiers and you don’t know how they died?” 

The Kolverine shifted his feet. “We know that they were at the western border, waiting for the Runamin attack. Beyond that, it is unclear what happened.” 

Ever dug his fingernails into his fist. “That’s it?” He questioned, a bitter look playing on his face. “That’s all we know?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ever pushed him out of the way. “Useless,” he spat. “A thousand soldiers don’t just die.”

“Everyone!” He fumed, silencing the chaos. “Out! Immediately.” 

The Kolverine’s hesitated for a moment, looking up to Ever like an alien popped out of his head. “I said out,” he sneered. 

Shuffling feet scurried through the room until it was just Ever and death’s silent calling. He let out a heavy breath, taking in the view. There was so much death, too much to bear, or even comprehend. “Business,” he told himself, “not lives.” Reluctantly, Ever started searching through the bodies. 

He fumbled, unclasping the armor of the first soldier, the metal falling to the floor with a clunk. He refused to look at any of the features on the soldier, not wanting to form any emotional attachment. These were numbers, not bodies. Slowly, he traced his shaking hands across the cold skin but found nothing. No bullet, no sword wound, not even a scratch. 

He moved onto the next body, his hands still shaking like an alarm clock each time he touched the cool skin, but once again found nothing. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing, and nothing. Every single body showed nothing.

“Captain?” Ever jumped, not hearing anybody enter the room. 

“What,” he sneered, not even bothering to look up. His unusually slicked back hair fell onto his face in messy, golden strands. 

“We have found some more information,” Ever spun his head around, looking up to the Kolverine he talked to earlier.

“Well, I don’t have all day,” He started, pushing the loose hairs back. 

“A girl.” The Kolverine answered. “The soldiers were killed by a girl, we guess around twelve.” 

Ever raised an eyebrow. “Now is no time for jokes. You should be lucky I don’t add you to these bodies for such a comment.” 

“No, sir this is no joke. We have a witness.” 

Ever raised his head, skeptical. “Bring him in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ever was halfway through unclasping the armor of another soldier when heavy footsteps entered the room. 

“Here he is, sir. Callan Hart, a member of the fallen battalion.”  

Ever spun his head around. The man was large, with dark skin and bloodshot eyes. His face was all blotchy like he had been crying for days, and his chubby hands were clasped together by cuffs. “I didn’t do it,” he cried, not even bothering to hide his emotion. “Those guys were my friends. My family.” 

Ever raised an eyebrow, this was no time for emotions. “What happened?” 

The soldier sniffled. “I was in the sky,” he fumbled. “Checking enemy lines.” More tears fell from his face. “I saw a girl walking across the field. She had no armor or weapons. She looked completely harmless. She was just a kid.” 

His face grew more red and he squinted his eyes together. “I wish I was dead too,” he whimpered. “I should have died with them.” 

Ever crossed his arms. “How’d she do it?” 

“I don’t know,” he took a breath. “One minute she was walking up to the field and the clouds started to get heavier. Then, out of nowhere, she screamed. When the clouds parted, they were all dead.” 

Ever looked at the Kolverine, exchanging a skeptical glance. “Do you know what she looked like?”

He paused, more tears stinging his eyes as he looked at the dead soldiers. “I… I couldn’t get a good view from the sky, but I remember her hair was long and dark. Like ink.” 

“Very well,” Ever stated. “You may take him away now. Keep him in chains until we know for sure what happened.” 

The Kolverine nodded his head, taking Callan by his chained wrists. “NO. WAIT. PlEASE.” Callan screamed, thrusting his body towards Ever. “You have to let me die. Please. I cannot live a life without the people I love most.” 

Ever stretched his neck forward, taking a slow deep breath. Numbers, not lives.He reminded himself. “We are in desperate times, I cannot lose another soldier.” 

Callan fell to his knees, tears falling into a small puddle on the stone floor. “Please, sir. Please. I beg of you. All my life I have trained with these soldiers. I have gone through the good and the bad with them. We were not brothers by blood but by choice. Please, let me die with them.” 

Ever clenched his jaw. It was his job to not show any emotion, to assess battle strategies, battalions, and groups without any humane interest. He had spent his entire life perfecting the art of hiding any trace of sentiment in his face, to conceal any sadness in his tone. But this day was unlike any other and as he watched the soldier beg for death, Ever put down his guards for just one moment. He walked up to the soldier, unstrapping his silver dagger from his leg strap. If he were to do this he would do it quickly. Callan smiled, more tears falling down his blotchy face. 

“Thank you,” he wept. His eyes were bright yet broken at the same time. 

Ever nodded his head, and in a swift motion, pressed the dagger against Callan’s neck. “I want you to know that the death of your friends will be avenged.”  He whispered as he pushed the silver blade against the soldier’s cold skin, sending a fountain of red down his neck. The Kolverine flinched as Callan’s body fell to the floor, the blood from his neck pooling around his head, dampening his hair. Ever took a breath, setting his jaw and straightening his spine. “Very well,” he stated. “Now, I believe that we have a girl to find.”