When morning finally came, Clark and the other soldiers of Vatican City still didn’t have the luxury of sleep. All the corpses in the city needed to be taken care of and they as soldiers were needed for the burials.
With bloodshot eyes, Clark did not participate in the cleaning as he walked towards the Vatican government building after giving orders to the soldiers.
He did not know the current state of his car as his implant could not connect with it. His mind was not focused on that now though, he had other more important pending matters.
As he walked, his eyes subconsciously wandered randomly, taking in all the damage along the way until he got to his location.
As soon as he got to the government building, he met the city commissioners. Head Commissioner Patrick looked a few years older, it was clear that the war took a toll on his health physically and psychologically.
On seeing their leader, the commissioners greeted him but with much less enthusiasm than before. Their eyes were no longer vibrant, they looked dull like those of walking corpses.
Clark stood for some time as he looked at the government building. Just like other parts of the city, the government building suffered unrelenting attacks. Though it survived the bombardment, it was left with countless damages.
The fact that the shelters were built underground was the only reason why the commissioners survived the onslaught.
On the floor, he could still see bullet shells lying about randomly. The blackened earth was a testament to the fire which raged here previously, all these were glaring facts that reminded him of the brutality of the war.
Accompanying these remnants of war were flowing blood and the corpse of soldiers. Other soldiers were already cleaning up the mess, but this scene still made Clark raise his head and close his eyes.
He did a lot in this war, he killed a lot, he protected to the best of his ability, he participated without qualms but at this moment he suddenly felt at a loss.
“Sigh!” That was the only sound that he could let out before he entered inside the government building.
Entering the office that was designated for him, he locked himself in to have some alone time for himself to regulate his psychological state.
As soon as he sat down on his chair, he supported his head with his hands as even more scenarios played through his mind.
He remembered when he was inaugurated as the leader of Vatican City, he remembered the enthusiasm and hope of the citizens as they welcomed their leader with beaming smiles of happiness.
Then, they felt that their leader would protect them from every single vice that was harmful to them, but this war proved otherwise.
Clark ruffled his hair as his bloodshot eyes became even redder. He could not help but think back to the proceedings of the war.
If the President didn’t intervene, the trajectory of the war would have been entirely different. This war brought him back to the cruel fact that he still didn’t have enough strength to protect his loved ones.
Thinking of that, he quickly picked a communication device that was in his office before dialing his best friend’s contact.
“Thanks, Clark, I’m fine”.
Hearing his best friend’s exhausted voice, he heaved a sigh of relief as he slumped down into his chair. He said some other words of pleasantry before he cut the call connection.
Then, he just sat on his chair and looked at the ceiling.
An hour later, there were 2 knocks on his office door, jolting him out of his half sleeping-half awake state.
“Come in”.
Head Commissioner Patrick entered the office, with a solemn face he presented a stack of books before his leader.
Already guessing what the stack of books documented, Clark felt his heart being ripped apart but he still extended his hand out to take it.
Opening it, the first line of words that appeared before him made his hand freeze. He took a deep breath and opened it completely.
“Civilian Record: Approximately 28,000 Dead and 45,000 Injured”.
“Soldiers Record: Approximately 11,000 Dead and 13,000 Injured”.
“Material [Financial] Record: Approximately 745 million lost”.
Clark did not go through the detailed records, after sweeping his gaze through these main 3 he raised his head to face his head commissioner.
He wanted to say that the record was good and that it was better than he feared but, in the end, he changed it at the last moment.
He placed his hands to his chest and solemnly declared. “For Sparta!”
The head Commissioner said the same. “For Sparta!”
Before the head Commissioner left, he turned his head to look at his leader again. “Sir, what of the civilian survivors? They are still in the underground bunkers”.
Clark raised his head again. “The city has been cleaned?”
“Yes”.
“Then, release them”.
…
As soon as the order was sent across, the Vatican soldiers went to work on it as they released the civilians who were still in the underground shelters that were spread across the city.
After a week of fearing for their lives, having to endure the constant sounds induced by the war, and hoping for a better tomorrow, the citizens of Vatican City finally saw the light of day again.
Coming out, though the city was already cleaned, the sight of the destruction alone was enough to tell them elaborate stories about the war.
They could imagine others like them whose shelters could not be protected, they could imagine the brutality that raged through the city for the past 7 days, they could imagine a lot of things.
Seeing the sun shining down on them, all the survivors broke down in tears. Couples hugged and cried their hearts out, parents hugged their children and cried, the lucky families cried.
As these lucky ones cried, so did the unlucky ones also cry. The ones who lost loved ones in the war, the couples who lost their partner, the children who lost their parents, the parents who lost their children, they all cried.
“Thank God, thank God we survived”.
Amid this cacophony of emotional outpouring, a family of 4 who also broke down in tears knelt as they all hugged themselves with no intention to let go.
Little Dandelion let her tears run free, she stammered as she asked. “M-mommy, are we safe now?”
“Yes, yes, we are safe”. Her mother patted her head and hugged her tighter as her tears flowed faster, her eyes were already bloodshot from the tears but she didn’t clean them.
As the couple hugged their children, they noticed the silence of their son. Their hearts skipped a beat as they turned to look at the boy.
“Prince, is something wrong?”
The boy bit his lip like he was hesitating about something, he wiped his tears before raising his head to look at his parents.
“Dad, Mom, I don’t want to be an Engineer anymore”.
Mr. Trump’s heart dropped as he could already guess what his son would say next. With a heavy heart, he still asked as more tears dropped down his eyes.
“Son, what happened? What do you want to become now?”
“I want to protect Dandelion, I want to protect you and mom, I don’t want something like this to happen again”.
The boy dropped his head. “I…, I want to become a soldier”.
[Thanks for reading.]