A long time ago,

the pig world had yet to find peace.

Trotters thudded in frantic escape,  

hoofmarks scattered among the grass——

and some figures never made it back.

The wind whipped up dust and broken grass,   

screams and pounding pig hooves tangled into chaos,    

and the entire sky turned ashen, as if stained by mud.

A large, muscular pig stood before a shattered gate,  

his eyes reflecting a field strewn with severed limbs.

"All warriors, hear my call! Defend our kin to the death!"  

His roar thundered through the air,   

shaking even the ground beneath his feet.

"Father…"

The call wasn’t even finished before he turned around——

a filthy, wide-eyed piglet stared at him in terror,  

a line of frail pigs cowering behind the crumbling wall.

"We’ll hold them off—take the others and run!"

In the next instant, his limbs tightened, muscles swelling,  

and he charged toward the intruders like a storm.

Within seconds, his figure vanished  

into the clash and swirling dust.

The piglet stood frozen, nose stinging, fur bristling.

Only when another wall came crashing down  

and shards of clay and dirt struck his face  

did he snap back to reality.

He looked around.  

The village had already fallen—reduced to ruins,  

with only broken walls and the thick stench of blood remaining.

Clenching his jaws, eyes bloodshot,  

he drew a deep breath through the tears——

then turned and ran,  

toward the distant horizon where a faint light still flickered.

The days of conflict had finally ended.

The remaining warriors followed the trail of hoofprints and drag marks in the mud, searching for the tribesfolk who had fled.

“We found them! Over here!”

A large pig, shoulder still seeping blood, came to an abrupt stop and shouted hoarsely, voice raw with emotion.

The others rushed over at the call.

But when they saw what lay ahead, their breath caught in their throats.

Most of the recovered companions were curled up in piles of grass, their fur dull, eyes unfocused.

Prolonged malnutrition and the mental toll of war had left them fragile——

as if a single gust of wind could blow their bodies apart.

One of the large pigs walked carefully over,

a broken piece of a pig's tail clutched gently in his mouth.

He lowered his head and placed the fragment on the ground in front of a young pig.

“I’m sorry… this… this is all we could bring back.”

The young pig stared blankly at the tail until he noticed an old scar near the end——

he remembered that mark.

He’d made it himself when he was little, during a moment of mischief.

He had said,

when they grew up, they’d guard the gates together, and…

become the bravest warriors.

A soft, nasal sound slipped from his throat.

“Whimper… whimper…”

He collapsed beside the piece of tail, burying his face on his forelegs.

He tried to stifle the sobs, but they slipped through, unstoppable.

Similar scenes played out among the other pigs.

Some held bitten ears, some clutched shattered pieces of familiar tusks.

They were all family—ones they had once run alongside.

One by one, they apologized while carefully storing the fragments,

crying as they whispered, “It’s okay… it’s okay…”

The sky was clearly so bright.   

And yet, its light could never reach this place.