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The sun glowed directly above the dry landscapes of Almakan, intensifying the beige hue of every building and metre of land. Abdullhajm's scaled chest rose and fall, his legs burning with exertion as he strapped his gun to his back. It was at times like these that he was thankful for how immodest his operating uniform was, as the cool fabric clung to his body, offering the bare minimum of comfort in the oppressive heat.
The Zaenaf Palace was in sight, the rendezvous point that had been set for his and Cyriaque's task force. However, Abdullhajm knew that she would not be the one leading the team. He had seen her tragic death before entering the sathalkar. Her body was ruthlessly split in half by what he could only assume to have been an explosion, and the almost disassociated look on Tyrrân's face was more than enough of an indicator to how it had effected him.
In the lush palace gardens, sat on a bench in front of the carved fountain, was the shark, his eyes red and swollen from tears. For a moment, Abdullhajm hesitated by the gate, contemplating whether or not to comfort Tyrrân. His better judgement ushered him forward, however, and he strode to the front of the bench, where the shark's head was dipped with mourning for his team.
"Garãzmen." he spoke as softly as he could, "We have to keep moving. We're not done with the mission yet."
The shark ceased to stir. It seemed to Abdullhajm that he was talking to a statue, but slowly, Tyrrân lifted his head.
"I..." he began, his voice weak voice cracking, "I...loved...her..."
"Cyriaque?" Abdullhajm crouched down, his purple eyes staring into Tyrran's.
The shark nodded, his gaze distant and pained.
"We've all lost someone, no matter what war we're fighting for." Abdullhajm spoke, placing a firm but gentle hand on Tyrrân's shoulder, hoping to provide any sort of comfort to him.
"No, but you don't understand, Abdul." Tyrrân's voice grew slightly stronger, raising in an almost desperate whine, "I loved her, she was my everything. And it's not just her. It's Sender, Anjali, Sandeep, all but me and Gohar. Almost all of my friends are dead! And I loved them all!"
Abdullhajm recoiled, remaining silent, the weight of Tyrrân's words dealing what felt like a physical blow. Anjali and Sender died too? Looking closer at Tyrrân, along with the necklace that Cyriaque had given him before she died, there were two other dog tags around his neck, confirming their deaths.
But what could he say? He had not lost anyone that had meant this much to him. The closest Abdullhajm had ever felt to love was the bond he had with his siblings, but that was a bond of blood, not the kind of love that could be torn apart by war. And it was against his religion to form a romantic relationship with his male comrades. He could not even remember the last time he had hugged or shared any physical affection with Ardeshir or Rodi, suddenly making him feel a bit lonely.
But he had to be strong for Tyrrân. He had to support his comrades, and even though as a BWRA soldier, he was not proud to be an ally of the Hue Accord, he felt it was the right thing to do; to try and help this shark out. After all, this was just one individual, who was far from representing the proud, hubristic inklings that ran the HA.
"I can't pretend to know what you're going through, Tyrrân, but I will do my best to help and support you." Abdullhajm finally said, his grip tightening on Tyrrân's shoulder. It was difficult to choose the words to say when faced with such raw pain, but he knew that acknowledging it was a start. "It's all part of God's plan."
"I don't care about any of this 'God' shit!" Tyrrân suddenly exploded in an anguished fit of rage, "Cyriaque died right outside of the sathalkar's entrance! The Almiah Al'iilahia Iiman, in fact, which in your books, is right on God's doorstep! If there really was a God, He would have intervened! But she died right in my arms! So there is no God! It's just us, fighting over nothing, waiting to join the people we've killed! What's the point of wanting people dead if we're all going to die anyways? Where is God's mercy if He's letting this happen?"
Abdullhajm took a step back, realising his mistake. Normally, he would be furious over such passionate blasphemy, but he saw the pain in Tyrrân's eyes, and the reasoning behind his words. However, he was not going to double down on his faith, so he took a moment to gather himself, then responded calmly, "Tyrrân, I can't explain the ways of the Almighty. All I know is that we're here to complete this mission. For the sake of those we've lost, and for those who are counting on us. Let your grief convert to determination, and together we shall honour their memories."
The shark looked up at him, his eyes fluttering as tears ran down his face, a mix of anger and despair, but something in Abdullhajm's words seemed to resonate within him. He took a deep breath, and stood to his feet, his legs shaking slightly.
"You're right. I can't let their sacrifices be in vain. We must complete the mission," Tyrrân said, his voice still cracking, but now laced with a newfound resolve. "Where are we headed next?"
"We're sweeping the lower suites of the city for any remaining terrorists. Intel suggests they may be planning a counter-offensive from the city's underbelly," Abdullhajm informed Tyrrân as he led the shark towards the gate that led out of the palace gardens. Grabbing his radio, the sea snake spoke into it, "Madhi, fetch Irfan and Farooq and meet me at the Khadim BWRA base. We've moving to secure the last objective."
The radio crackled in response, and a low, growly voice replied, "Understood, Hasherin. We're on our way."
With that, the two soldiers moved out, exiting the palace gardens, leaving the carved fountain behind, the water rushing down the dish. Tyrrân took one last look at the fountain, and pictured the photo that Cyriaque had taken of Abdullhajm without his knowledge, bent down to grab a weapon, creating an accidentally compromising posture. It was sent to their private group chat, with Cyriaque captioning it with "yo this snake got some cake 💀". Tyrrân remembered seeing that message before their team had headed out. It was sent mere hours ago, and so much had happened within that time frame.
For a moment, Tyrrân pondered on whether or not he should tell Abdullhajm about the picture, or anything about the group chat at all. But he decided against it; there was quite literally no way he could mention it without having to tell Abdullhajm that a photo was purposefully taken to exhibit his tail end. In fact, he hadn't told anyone else about the chat yet apart from close shark friends. It was a weird little comfort he had, a piece of his task force he could keep to himself.
In that moment, Tyrrân realised just how much material in that group chat there was that could have compromised him and everyone else in it. Every joke, every meme, every indecent photo and video that had been shared, could have painted a target on their backs. The thrill of those moments sent a rush of adrenaline through Tyrrân's veins, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was most likely never going to share a relationship with a group of people where they could share such things again.
"Keep your head up, dumbass." Tyrrân could imagine Cyriaque talking to him, "You're doing great. Complete the mission for us, yeah? You're wearing my necklace. Don't let it go to waste."