[b]Ingenue[/b] I admit, I hadn’t fully considered the cost of this war until I heard the sound of that girl’s chest as it wheezed, hyperventilating as she fought to continue breathing. Her stomach lay wide open - the shot had passed right through. Her eyes darted in fear, she followed me as I moved cautiously towards the two bodies and kicked the gun to a safe distance. Once I was satisfied that my mission had been accomplished, I turned to the girl who I had considered an acceptable loss in the midst of combat. “I’m sorry,” I said, and lowered my rifle, “you got in the way.” She replied only with heavier breaths. I called into my comm. link, “he’s dead,” I said, “And the hostage?” The breathing had stopped. “Two casualties.” There was a pause. “Understood.” ‘What makes a Guardian?’ I thought as I considered my actions. At the expense of one life, I had postponed the destruction of the Last City to another time. That day in the buried city an innocent woman had paid the ultimate price for the continued safety of thousands, and yet, those people would see me as their saviour, as anything but a murderer. I moved the bodies into a nearby terminal station to shield them from the heat of the creeping sun and thought of my wife. Would I have done the same if it were her with a gun to the head? I reasoned that I would at least want her to be comfortable. As a Guardian of the City, the price of our survival is not the personal sacrifices, nor is it the weight of responsibility, but knowing that I had made the right decision. It’s this truth that haunts me more than the disaster my actions averted.