Against my better judgement, I removed my mask. I needed a better look at the destruction we’d brought down on these people.

Not a single artificial structure remained standing. Not a single soul in the streets, aside from my fellow soldiers.

There was only ash… Gently rolling dunes of grey ash were the only grisly remainder of the town that once was.

We all stood there stunned at the sight. We knew the weapon was powerful, and would likely end the war once its destructive ability was displayed, but it’s one thing to read specs on a sheet of paper. An entire other thing to see the devastation first hand.

The war was over. That much was sure. But as the tears of hardened soldiers mixed with the colorless dust at our feet, we knew that this part of the war would never end for us.

We were cursed to be the curators of an entire population’s memory.