As the rain poured down, the people concealed their tears, their silent sobs blending with the rhythmic patter of the falling drops, masking the depths of their hidden sorrows.

They had expected this grim reality, yet the overwhelming sadness that enveloped them took them by surprise. It wasn't the brutality of war that was slowly sapping their spirits; it was the profound sorrow that weighed on their hearts.

Amidst the chaos and destruction, they extended their helping hands to both allies and enemies. Hatred found no haven in their hearts, for they recognized that these people, too, were victims of the relentless cruelty of war.

"Hey, let's return to the village. You're the hero who saved the village," a man said, helping Bruce to his feet beneath a tree.

"I shouldn't have done it," Bruce lamented. "I shouldn't have requested to initiate the attack. I should have listened." He gazed at the fallen allies. "All of this blood is on my hands, and I can't bear the weight."

"Don't blame yourself; it's not your fault," the man reassured.

"This isn't the first time I've taken a life, but this… this is too much," Bruce continued. "I've been in battles far worse than this, where death lurked with every passing second. But why… why does it hurt this time? Tell me, if it's not my fault, then whose fault is it?" He gripped the man's clothes and stared into his eyes, his tears flowing freely.

The man, too, shed tears but offered his hand for comfort. "It's no one's fault; it's the nature of war. These people," he pointed to their fallen comrades, "knew they might not survive, but they had something to protect. And because of you, all their sacrifices were not in vain. You helped them. So don't blame yourself; by carrying their memory, you honor their sacrifices."

"No… you don't understand. If only I had listened to Commander, if I had taken it seriously. But no, I let arrogance cloud my judgment, and now everyone is dead," Bruce admitted, overwhelmed with guilt.

"I'm alive, and so are they, and them," The man gestured toward their surviving allies. "The truth is, it didn't even cross our minds that winning this war was possible. We knew from the beginning, even before the battle began, that we were already losing. We all understood, and even Commander Kilos knew. That's why no one dared to question his strategy." The man emphasized, making sense of the situation for Bruce. "We were prepared to die for the sake of our people."

Bruce couldn't bear the weight of his guilt and fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. He struggled to make sense of it all. Why was he in this world? Why was he fighting? What was the purpose of having a second chance, only to end up in this dire situation? Questions swirled in his mind as the burden of his men's deaths weighed heavily on his shoulders.

In the Pearl Village, Bruce noticed a sea of unfamiliar faces, all dressed in white garments resembling robes. They were tending to the injured with what seemed like magical healing abilities.

"My name is Arthur," the man who had helped Bruce into the village introduced himself. "I overheard Commander Kilos calling you Ghost."

Bruce nodded in acknowledgment. The name "Kilos" resonated in his mind, reminding him of his mission to find Kilos after leaving the ship. "Ah, Kilos is his name," he realized.

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A robed man approached Bruce and Arthur, introducing himself as Ben. His hands emitted a soft glow as he began to heal them. "We're from the church, and we came to offer aid. Who's in charge of this village? Who's your Commander?" Ben inquired as he worked.

"Commander Kilos is dead," Arthur replied solemnly. "But you can talk to the village chief."

"The village chief is also dead," Ben said with regret. "I'm sorry."

The news hit Bruce hard, and he bit his lip so fervently that it drew blood.

Ben quickly healed Bruce's injured lip and continued his inquiries. "I thought the Flame Dragon Empire attacked. But I don't see them?"

"They retreated," Arthur confirmed.

"Retreated? That's new," Ben remarked.

"Yeah, we gave them a hard time. Thanks to this man," Arthur said, flashing a smile and pointing to Bruce.

As Bruce's fatigue started to overwhelm him, he made his way to a nearby tent to rest. While he lay down, memories of his first battle on Earth came rushing back.

It was a somber November day on Earth. Bruce's mind began to drift back to a battle that had left an indelible mark on him. It was a day he would never forget, a day when the world around him seemed to crumble. The enemy, in a bid to sow chaos, had launched a ruthless attack on innocent civilians, taking hostages in the process.

Bruce, still a Private First Class in the military, had been on a seemingly ordinary shift when the call came in. His superior had summoned him with urgency, revealing the grim news. Terrorists had infiltrated a peaceful community, taken hostages, and unleashed a wave of violence.

As he raced to the scene, Bruce could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him. It was the first time he would be thrown into a real-life battle, facing the true horrors of combat. There was no turning back, no time to second-guess. He was part of a team tasked with saving innocent lives, and failure was not an option.

The battle was fierce and unrelenting, and Bruce and his comrades fought valiantly. In the midst of the chaos, some of his friends and fellow soldiers fell victim to the ruthless attackers. Lives were lost, and the toll the battle took was etched into Bruce's memory.

Yet, they succeeded in their mission. The hostages were rescued, and the terrorists were neutralized. The cost, however, was high, and the price paid in lives was something that weighed heavily on Bruce.

As he lay in the tent, recovering from his recent battle, Bruce couldn't help but draw parallels between his experiences in two worlds. Different places, different battles, yet the pain and the price paid for protecting others remained a constant.

Bruce eyes staring into the dimly lit space above him. The weight of the recent battle and the death of Commander Kilos bore down on him. He couldn't shake the feeling that he could have done more, that he should have been stronger.

Commander Kilos final moments replayed in his mind. The battle against Commander Victor had been brutal, and Kilos had paid the ultimate price to protect his people. Bruce couldn't escape the haunting thought that he should have somehow ended the battle sooner.

But deep down, he knew that Commander Kilos had made his own choices, and in his sacrifice, he had ensured that others would live. It was a painful truth that Bruce had to accept.

As he thought about the people in the Pearl Village and their unwavering determination to protect their loved ones, he found himself admiring their resilience. They fought not out of a desire for violence, but out of necessity, out of love for their kingdom, their families, and their cherished ones.

Staring at his hands, he felt the weight of the responsibility he now carried. The blood of those who had perished, is in his hands. It was a heavy burden that he couldn't ignore.

Determined to honor the sacrifices of those who had fought beside him and those who had fallen, Bruce whispered to himself, "I will be strong." His vow was a promise to protect and to never let others pay the price for his weakness.

The hours passed, and Bruce's fatigue finally overcame his troubled mind, lulling him into a restless sleep. His dreams were filled with visions of battles, comrades lost, and the haunting specter of Commander Kilos.

The Pearl Village remained a hive of activity. The white-robed healers worked tirelessly, tending to the wounded and offering solace where they could. Despite the loss of their leaders, the village's spirit was unbroken, and they began the process of rebuilding and healing.

Morning broke over the Pearl Village, its people emerging from the night's sorrows with renewed determination. Bruce awoke to the sight of villagers going about their tasks, rebuilding homes, and caring for the injured. Their strength in the face of adversity was inspiring.

The memory of his Earthly battle lingered in Bruce's mind, a reminder of the human capacity for resilience. He had seen the same determination in both worlds. The will to protect what one holds dear was a universal driving force.

As the days passed, Bruce joined the efforts to rebuild the village and tend to the injured. The weight of his past decisions and the consequences of his actions were still with him, but he understood that he couldn't change the past. All he could do was make a difference in the present.

The once-unknown faces of the Pearl Village had become friends and allies, bound by the shared experiences of war and sacrifice. It was in this unity that Bruce found solace.

With each passing day, Bruce grew stronger, not just in body but in spirit. He began to forge a path forward in this new world, determined to honor the sacrifices of his comrades and find his purpose in this world.

The echoes of sacrifices, whether on Earth or in this realm, would remain a part of Bruce's journey. They were a reminder of the price paid for the pursuit of peace, the weight of responsibility, and the strength of the human spirit in the face of adv

ersity. The journey was far from over, and Bruce was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.