The trail of bloody footprints marked the path behind him as far as his eyes could see. They had followed him since yesterday, and walked with him up the side of the cliff. His last companion left it seemed. That is besides the now dull ache in his ribs.
His leg faltered as he tried to push himself up another step. The dying muscles barely able to manage another one. His head swam with exhaustion.
He popped a small red pill in his mouth, his last though it hardly mattered. A burst of energy flowed into his body and the skin of his tattered feet regrew slightly. It was barely a drop in the bucket compared to what he had at the beginning of his journey but it would get him the rest of the way.
He stepped out on the top of the bluff and was met with a sea of swaying green. A soft breeze whispered across the land, rustling the grass as it moved. The scent of salt carried across the land, though it carried a slight undercurrent. The world seemed to mock his agony. The dull ache grew sharper the closer he made his way forward, towards the drop.
It felt as if he stood on the edge of the world, emerald waves crashing against the rocks below.
He wasn't sure what made him walk back here, didn't know what drove his battered body further. Whether grief or pain or some sort of revenge. The burning skyline of Abuja had been burned into his memory. How the central tower lay like a felled tree. How the smoke had billowed around that goliath of a behemoth.
Nearly 300 meters tall, it dwarfed any he had seen before. It's reptilian form clashing with the whip thin tail and fishy head. It's back layered in those spines that had taken so many of his brothers, their blood unnoticeable against silver scales. The long, sword-like, spine protruding from it's face that tore down buildings like a scythe through wheat.
But, most of all, he could remember the way it had dug into the central tower and brought out the Wing of God. How it had swallowed it in a single bite. The foundation of his nation, crunched between the teeth of that monster.
His skin itched with the unfairness of it all. Since he was a child the masters had hammered into his head that one day he would die for his brothers. His brothers were all dead and he was not. It was not the way his world worked.
He had run, in the face of such a terror of course he had, but it still drove a blade into his heart. He was a coward it turned out. The lowest of the low. Despite the wound he had suffered in his side he should have made one final push. Joined his brothers that littered the streets.
It was too late. his beloved city lay in ruins and he found himself standing on the coast, days away.
He lifted his ruby red Ida with one hand, arm trembling slightly. The other held his side as if to ward off the pain. He stared down at the sea that had taken everything from him. That had killed his brothers and razed his city.
"Why," he cried out desperately, "What have we done to anger you so. We just wanted to live our lives in peace."
The glittering expanse offered no answer, its waves crashed against the side of the cliff once more.
He took a step closer to the edge. the top of his feet hung out over the distance.
"Why must you take everything from us. Are the lives lost already not enough for your gluttony."
The wind blew against him, lifting up his pink colored half-cloak. The pain in his ribs grew even sharper.
"What more do you even want. Are the lives already lost not enough. Would mine even be enough."
By now nearly half his feet hung over the edge. The start of a headache throbbed in his temple. The dagger in his side nearly reached the size of the one in his heart. When all that fell away with a sudden rush of clarity.
He toppled into the sea.