Riza looked at the pale red sky. It was only a dream, but she had it every night.
That was how they failed.
The bloodstained sand, the torn clothes, the weary looks of the broken soldiers. The war. It would never be over no matter how many times she smiled, laughed or felt happy. Never over, that bloody, ugly world that haunted her, dizzying, spinning, crashing. Burning.
That was how they failed.
Yes, the flames. She trusted him, and she knew this wasn't what he wanted. Just getting what you want is too easy. That was just that terrible thing called reality. Reality, that ugly thing.
That was how they failed.
Roy hoped. He hoped for a peaceful, beautiful world where Riza could be happy. One were he had never fought. Yes, the war was a crippling thing, a flaw in humanity.
That was how they failed
What kind of world did they live in? Riza was right. The war would go on in his heart. But Roy didn't want the war to stop in his heart; he wanted it to go on, to fuel his ambitions. Riza could help; after all, they made a promise. It was a promise to protect.
That was how the won.