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Cureless
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There was no remedy for war, no magic method to make the pain disappear. No miracle potion or medicine to dispel pain and suffering, nor anything that could stop the rampant decay that took hold of the land.
Unfortunately, short tem consolations tended to worsen the pain later on, when eyes were opened and hearts broken apart. Comfort taken in others was shattered when others died, sadness replaced by fear, and fear replaced again by wild longing. Nothing could ease the pain without bringing more.
There was only survival; only the hope that one could live to see the next day, live to take another ragged breath of dust-choked air. There was only hope that they could live to kill again, only silent belief that they themselves might survive. So he still snapped his fingers, and she still pulled the trigger, if only to live another day, if only to make sure the other could breathe again, even if the pain would come again. Even if it's effects were stronger than before.