The battlefield had once been a vast, fertile plain full of life. But now the land was scorched and poisoned, and the once blue sky was lost indefinitely above a sea of rainless thunderclouds. Long ago this place had belonged to a race of thinkers – a miraculous people that conquered every problem that they faced. The remnants of this people continued on as mere shadows of their ancestors.

As one group of these remnants trudged across the barren landscape, they disturbed the intense silence that veiled it with their movement. Suddenly, the leader of the pack stopped and looked slowly around.

“Did anyone hear that?” He turned to look at his squad.

Quiet murmurs erupted from them, but the consensus was ‘no.’

The leader turned back and carefully surveyed the area ahead. “Ready your weapons! I don’t have a good f-”

A loud gunshot resounded across the plain. The leader jerked backwards, crumpling to the singed ground. He was dead. Quickly, the group raised their aged weapons and searched for the opposition. In response, several dirt-covered figures sprang from their hiding places in the dust. The gunshots that followed were quickly accompanied by yells and screeches. Individuals on both sides dropped, one by one, until only two remained.

They stood feet apart, aiming their ancient rifles at each other. But neither of them shot. Both had realized that whoever shot would at last be alone. For what seemed like hours they stood, frozen, like statues carved in a forgotten age.

Finally, one spoke. “Has it come down to this?” He absorbed his opponent’s image - a sullen figure clothed in rags. “Are we the last ones in this world?”

“What does it matter?” The other soldier shifted his gun. “There’s nothing left!” He paused. “And it’s your fault!”

The first soldier watched the other one blankly. “I was not the one to quarrel with you,” he said. “Nor was I the one who commanded us to war.”

“What does it matter? What happened, happened! And… now we’re here.”

Silence followed. The pair digested this.

“Perhaps, then, we shouldn’t be here at all.” The first soldier looked up to the dark sky. “Perhaps… it was all created to end. Here, on this burned-out battleground.”

Lightning roiled in the clouds above them.

“There’s nothing left.” He shook his head. “Nothing left.” He looked to the ground, then raised his weapon and locked eyes with his opponent.

The second soldier furrowed his brow for a moment before realizing what the gesture meant. He, too, raised his weapon, making it parallel to his opponent’s. “On… on three,” he said. “One… two…”

He stopped, unable to go on.

“…three.”

Both of them closed their eyes.

Listened to the agonized silence of the decaying world one more time.

And fired.