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Lay down your weapon brave warrior of EDEN


A bright sun rises above the great Palace of the Parliament in Muntenia today, after 48 unusually quiet hours, at least from grandma’s point of view.
Eris looks so old now you could say she was around for only two life’s worth of time. In her tiny apartment admiring her family pictures, dusting, playing chess by herself or miming plants, without even a radio on.
She couldn’t hear the fighter jets, nor the trucks with soldiers. Hearing heavy steps coming up the stairs, she jumps from the armchair and stops at the door; who could it be? Death? (but I still have like… 500 years to live).
And then he knocked at the door; should I open? Asked Eris to herself.
Being curious by nature she opened, but it was like nothing happened. No light passing, no air, no perfume, no color, but then Eris recognized the military decorations of her nephew reflecting a dim light. The general made his way down, almost walking on his knees to fit the door, displaying a very discrete smile. It was Noshadezs.
She then hugs him, everything looked okay with him… had all his fingers, no antennas, but with a different look on his eyes.

-Hello my dear usurper, I’m so glad I see you again I don’t even know what to ask you first…
-Long time no see Eris, there’s nothing much to ask anyway, all became routine on the front. I forgot how it is without the sound of bombs falling. Do you know what’s outside?
They all got so drunk with victory that the think themselves to be gods, It’s almost revolution. They want the war to go on…
The old woman smiles then and says:
-Noshadezs! Have they forgotten why they went to war? Have you? They went to the new land to defend EDEN and Fortis. To fight for morality, for friendship and freedom.
And now that we almost have it thanks to you, are you not satisfied with that you have achieved?
The war must have driven the soldiers mad…

He then laid his weapons down and opened the window, staying still in the way of wind. It was a bit chilly but he liked it.

-What are you looking at, my dear nephew?
(…)
-At Hungary…




NOSHADEZS


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