Chapter 31. Flee

CYRUS

From the east and west, a deadly collision occurs with me in the middle like an insignificant element of reality. The opposing armies, unwilling to resolve things amicably, result in a clash, forcing the sun to hide its face in shame, just a few minutes into the mayhem.

The sound of battle—the screams, clashing of metals, slashing of swords—rises as clouds of dust consume the cacophony. The hate in the space remains palpable, and before long I become a victim. An Annunaki lunges at me with a spear, poor me, but by a stroke of luck the metal misses my midsection, my pupils dilating as I watch it pierce into another soldier’s thigh. Blood gorges out like fluid from a burst pipe as the spear seems to have struck an artery.

The thought that it would have been me in that position, or probably the last thing I witnessed alive, stiffens me for a bit, fear, like a shock wave sizzling my core. I whip around to flee but crash into another metal breastplate since the sm