The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"Aaaaaah!"

Having fought alongside the team for quite some time, Heiss, who had left his bayonet and rifle on the body of his last enemy, wielded a machete he'd picked up from the battlefield, hacking and slashing his way through the crowd. He was never a skilled fighter, but years of war had forged a warrior with a killer instinct. The wide-bladed machete whistled in his hands, constantly cleaving through the emaciated bodies of those cultists and severing their ugly heads.

He was surrounded by corpses, enemies and comrades alike. Most had died in bayonet melees. Covered in blood, with one eye a bloody mess, he resembled a battle-scarred god of war. As he chopped off one man's arm, another tried to sneak up from the right, only to have his rifle and bayonet blocked by Heiss's blade.

Heiss panted, staring at the enemy before him. The tattooed face seemed to lose all courage when it met his one good eye. The man dropped his rifle and turned to run. Heiss rushed forward, raised his machete, and cleaved the man's skull from behind.

Heiss seemed truly spent, kneeling on the ground, leaning on his machete, gasping for breath.

"Heiss! Heiss!"

A hand pressed on his shoulder. Heiss turned to see Commissar Ayi. His hat was gone, and there was a bullet hole in the left shoulder of his greatcoat. He was covered in blood.

"Are you alright? Come on! I'll take you to—"

Before he could finish, a burst of gunfire blew away half of the commissar's head, splattering Heiss's face with brain matter...

Then came a violent roar. The explosion tossed Heiss and the commissar's corpse into the air, and his world slowly faded into darkness.

He awoke in darkness and the smell of earth, not knowing how much time had passed.

Heiss opened his eyes and saw a narrow, rectangular, cold gray sky above him. He was surrounded by black dirt walls. When he tried to stand, he found his limbs unresponsive. He couldn't move, and he accepted his paralysis with a strange sense of detachment and calm resignation.

Suddenly, he saw four hunched, ragged figures appear, peering down at him.

They wore tattered robes, and carried scythes, shovels, and hoes. The aura surrounding them made Heiss deeply uneasy.

"He is a hero."

The first figure, holding a scythe, rasped.

"He died bravely, in his place. If he had been more ruthless, he might have lived."

"He is fragile flesh."

The second figure, holding a shovel, spoke next, like a decaying corpse wheezing through a leaky throat.

"He struggled to survive, which is commendable. If his will to live had been stronger, he might have lived."

"He is an idiot, dying for a cause he cannot even comprehend. If he had understood true knowledge, he would not have participated."

The third almost sneered, with a chilling chuckle.

"He died in pain but could not enjoy pain, how pathetic."

The fourth was like a woman and a man at once.

Suddenly, the rustling of their ragged robes, like the flapping of a crow's black wings, faded as the four figures disappeared from his sight, and Heiss felt the previous calm replaced by a sudden premonition of terror.

Something was wrong. They spoke as if he were dead.

Were they blind? Couldn't they see he was still alive?

He wanted to speak, to shout for them to come back and rescue him from this strange pit he found himself in, but he couldn't speak. His mouth and tongue were as paralyzed as the rest of his body.

Then, Heiss heard a scratching sound, as if a shovel was pushing into a pile of dirt somewhere. He knew his terrible premonition was about to come true.

He was already lying in his grave!

Just as Heiss was gripped by terror, he suddenly felt something move beside him. He found he could turn his head, but the instant he did, he almost screamed. Another 'corpse' lay beside him.

The other person was wrapped tightly in a shroud, like a mummy, with only a head—or rather, half a head—exposed.

The part of the corpse's head above the nose was gone, revealing charred tissue. When Heiss noticed the commissar's collar, he immediately recognized who the corpse was.

Suddenly, the other person also turned his head and opened his mouth in a horrifying manner.

"Heiss."

The dying man's gurgling voice came from his bloodied teeth and mangled tongue. Although he had no eyes, Heiss could still feel the dead man's chilling stare.

"Don't be afraid."

"Commissar Ayi, are you..."

Heiss wanted to ask if the other man was alright, but he immediately realized how stupid he was being.

Then, the ruined face forced a smile.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't a competent commissar. I didn't lead you to courage and victory. I was too cowardly."

"No, that's not true, Commissar. You did a great job. Everyone liked you. Uncle Hashet also said you were a good commissar, much better than those guys who only know how to point a gun at soldiers' heads!"

"Thank you, Heiss. You are all good people. I know that being afraid is not cowardice. You are all brave soldiers."

Intermittently, Ayi and Heiss spoke a lot. At eight years old, Ayi entered the Schola Progenium, a place full of glory and ideals, but also a place of oppression and cruelty. From their first day, the instructors trained everyone as if they were being abused, including but not limited to extreme-intensity training that made people vomit blood, allowing only three hours of sleep for a week straight, and immersing them in cold water for 24 hours.

Many people couldn't endure it, but in the Schola Progenium, there were no sick days, no rest, only death. It was a place where the weak were allowed to be eliminated by death.

Ayi once had a brother who was one year older than him, but one day, he died, hanging in the air by a rope tied to the ceiling around his neck.

Suicide was a crime, and worse, it was a manifestation of cowardice.

From then on, Ayi silently endured everything. No matter how much he was beaten or insulted, he never dared to talk back. He was afraid that he would become a 'cowardly escapee' like his brother, but he was still regarded as a coward by others.

"Commissar Ayi, you are a brave man. It is an honor to die alongside you. I know you are not the kind of person who would refuse or evade responsibility. You are a truly competent commissar because you have always inspired everyone with your actions and care, not with bullets. You are already part of this team."

Ayi's ruined face smiled, a genuine smile.

As dirt landed on Heiss's face, he found he couldn't see anymore. Then, as fragments of dirt trickled into his mouth and nostrils, he felt more dirt hitting his body. Its weight slowly became more and more unbearable, as the relentless shovels of the unseen gravediggers tossed dirt into the grave, again and again.

Soon, his lungs were crushed by the dirt pressing on his chest, and his mouth and nose were choked with the dirt inside, making it impossible to breathe.

At this moment, a strange, hollow voice said indifferently:

"Dust to dust, a life is ended."