A General Decision

General Mordak Threxar stood at the battlefield's edge, his armor shimmering under the blood-red sky. Before him, a captured enemy knelt—broken, trembling, awaiting death. Mordak's eyes, cold and calculating, surveyed the scene. A moment passed, and with a wave of his hand, he spoke.

"Spare him."

The words hung heavy in the air. His officers exchanged glances but knew better than to question. Threxar’s decisions were final, carved in iron. His mercy was rare, but absolute.

Days later, whispers spread through the ranks. A soldier, defying orders, struck the spared enemy. Mordak’s fury was swift. The offender vanished—no trial, no plea. The message was clear: When Mordak Threxar makes a decision, even death obeys.

@KonstantinS @Vixenartwear