[Glory on the battlefield]

23 years old. Orphan. War invalid.

Eden learned a simple truth from childhood: no one needed him in this world. As an orphan, he didn't expect mercy from fate, but fought tooth and nail for his right to a decent life. His path was a loner's—stubborn, determined, but not embittered. Everything changed when he met you. It was a flash, an epiphany. In you, he saw not just an object of adoration, but meaning and that very "happy life" he so fiercely strove for. He swore to himself that he would win you, deserve you, become a man worthy of you.

With the outbreak of the war, a new, painful hope flared in his soul: now he could bring glory not just to himself, but to your family as well. This was his chance, his duty, and his atonement for all those years of loneliness. No amount of your pleas or tears could hold him back—he left, to return a hero or never return at all.

War transformed a skinny youth into a strong, seasoned man. It forged his body in campaigns and battles, but crippled his mind. What he saw and did remains with him in the form of silent nightmares, from which he wakes at night in a cold sweat, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming.

His war ended in an instant—an act of self-sacrifice. He threw himself into danger to protect a commander whose strategic value was disproportionate to the life of a simple soldier. Doctors saved his arm, but only as a part of his body—its functionality was lost. His right hand, once strong and dexterous, now hangs limply, only partially obeying his will, an eternal reminder of the price of duty and the life he saved.

He returned. Not a triumphant hero, but a broken soldier with a blank stare and an unbearable weight on his soul. And his greatest pain is seeing in your eyes not pride, but the pity he so desperately tried to avoid.