After infiltrating General Alejandro's home, everything was quick. Frankly, Peter didn't care. The moment he saw the Royisan Airship flying down to them, he didn't waste a single time climbing aboard and sleeping in one of the luxurious cabins.

Five days after that, everything went back to normal. Crown Prince Nikolas, now King Nikolas, signed the Declaration of Peace with the Nuryynian Royal Family. It was unnerving to see Princess Nesha and some of her soldiers in the same room as King Nikolas. It felt like his entire breath was held the whole time, and he released a long sigh once the king of Nuryyn shook hands with King Nikolas.

Judging by the way they acted, they brushed off the incident under the rug. At least, Nuryyn did.

But he didn't know what was worse. That, or that there was an empty space between the Commander of the Battle Brigade and him. The space where Adrien was supposed to stand on was empty.

It made his chest twist. Yet no one seemed to care. Not the other commanders, not King Nikolas, especially not Nuryyn.

Without the war, Peter spent the next moon locked in his room. Some of the soldiers did the same, too. Either hiding in their rooms, finally resting, or exploring Royisa free from war. If he didn't feel so drained, he would have done the same thing.

His hands reached for the bolo tie on his neck. It had been a moon, and there was still no news about--

"Peter!"

Peter blinked and snapped his head up. His vision blurred for a moment, then his eyes finally cleared. Right, he was in the infirmary. He finally decided to come out of his room and have his body checked. A few people from the Medical Brigade were around him, while its Commander, Sof, stood in front of him. The blue gem on her tie glowed, before reverting back to its original darker color.

He cleared his throat and sat up. "S- Sorry. I've been... thinking."

"I don't blame you for dozing off this time." She sighed and crossed her arms. "To be honest, as much as I didn't like the war, I also missed doing something."

"Yeah..." He placed his hand in front of him, begging for even the smallest spark of magic to reach his fingertips.

She cleared her throat, making Peter shift his attention to her again. "Anyway, Peter. I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to be very honest about it. Alright?"

He nodded, making her continue.

"During the Infiltration, did something happen to you or your body?"

"Well... I did pass out in Nuryyn." He sighed and crossed his arms. "After that, I remember seeing something weird. Like a bunch of weird colors. Then I woke up, and I couldn't use magic anymore."

Sof hummed. She spun her fingers in the air, making her papers appear in front of her. Peter felt a twinge of jealousy forming inside of him, and he instinctively tried to reach for his magic. But just like the previous moon, it only made him flinch.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Sof sighed and scratched the back of her pointy ears. "You said you passed out and that you saw strange colors, right?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm assuming the strange colors were from Adrien's pocket dimension. I told that idiot to be careful with it, but he seemed like he wasn't." She sighed, mumbling curses under her breath, before continuing.

"Anyway, you don't have to worry about those colors. They're not the reason why you lost your magic. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook just yet. Why did you pass out in Nuryyn?"

"It got too cold." Mentally, he slapped himself. What a dumb reason to pass out. "We just came from Kytzlanna, and Elderis's outskirts was really cold, too."

Sof nodded. Then, she grabbed a chair, making their heights match. Her hands reached up, making a blue circle form in front of them. It looked like Peter's form, strings of lines that composed every part of him.

"I'm going to make this quick." She placed a finger on one of the lines. "When you passed out, something happened to your body. Maybe the temperature was too much for you, and it messed with your components." She swiped her wrist. The line she was pointing to dissolved, before completely turning to nothing.

"You were in a state of heat and cold at the same time, something that your body couldn't handle. Because of that, the part where your magic is being stored snapped from the clashing temperatures. It's why you feel like something's electrocuting you--because the process of magic in your body is incomplete, so it only gives pain rather than magic."

Peter held his hands and placed them close to his chest. He didn't know how he should take in that information. Should he be surprised? Confused? Scared?

He didn't know anymore. It had been a long time since the Infiltration, and yet he still felt tired.

He wasn't sure of anything.

"So..." He lifted his head and met Sof's eyes. "So what does that mean?"

Sof stood up and sighed, swiping the projection away. Her silence was nerve wracking, and he was slightly glad that he didn't have any flames to burn the infirmary up.

Finally, she replied. One that made his stomach drop to his feet, and his chest ache as if he had been stabbed.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I don't think you can use your magic anymore."

And it all fell. The confusion swirled with his exhaustion, making the pain he was already feeling burst. His head spun faster, and it felt like he would fall down if he would even try to stand up.

He couldn't use his magic anymore. Him, the commander of the Potions Brigade... couldn't use magic...

What was going to happen to him now?

"It's strange, though."

He turned to Sof again and raised a brow. "What's strange?"

"That it happened to you. Your body is well... perfect. You're the shortest commander, and your ears may not be as pointed, but other than that you're alright." She crossed her arms and hummed. "To be honest, I imagined this would happen, but not to you. I'm surprised Petra came back in one piece."

Petra...

Peter clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth. Without waiting for Sof, he grabbed his coat from his seat and stood up. His head immediately spun, and he felt like throwing up. Voices from the Medical Brigade reached his ears, but they all turned to ringing voices.

He needed to find Petra. He needed his answers.

And he had a feeling she knew them all.

He darted out of the infirmary, clinging onto the walls to support. Some of the lower ranks made way for him as he dashed through, while voices of the other commanders called him to stop.

There were only two places where Petra usually was. Her room, or the Battle Room.

Black spots were starting to fill his vision, but he pushed himself to run. Finally, once he was at the Battle Room, he pushed the double doors open. His legs finally gave in, and he fell to his knees. Fortunately, he was able to resist the urge to throw up, but that didn't change the fact that his head still spun.

"7114?"

Gathering his energy, Peter sat up. King Nikolas sat by the end of the long table, with Petra just next to him. His eyes were wide, while the soldier next to him simply raised a brow.

"What are you doing there, sta--"

"Your Majesty, if I may." His legs shook, but he still forced himself to stand up and walk to the opposite end of the table. "I have a question. Maybe more than that."

"Go on."

Peter gulped. Now that he was here, he was starting to regret his decision. He was facing the King of Nuryyn, and his most trusted soldier stood next to him.

His eyes flicked to Petra and gritted his teeth.

"Did she really kill General Alejandro?"

King Nikolas hummed. "I thought that was clear between us three. The letter was forged, yes. I'm honestly surprised how 7115 copied his handwriting."

If Peter felt dizzy earlier, he pushed it all away. His blood boiled, and his teeth were grinding against each other. He smacked his fist against the table, making a small crack form on the glass below.

"We committed a war crime!"

"It's not a war crime," Petra replied. "We're simply putting a stop to Nuryyn's original plan. They had no intention to sign the contract in the first place, and we were supposed to be ambushed."

"Well we could have fought back! Every commander of the ten Brigades was there, we could have fought them all! We--"

King Nikolas placed a hand in front of him, making Peter zip his lips. His skin was starting to itch, almost like he wanted to rip it off and just throw it at their faces. How he wished to grab his magic and shoot the two of them right now.

But the only thing he could do was stand and listen.

"Does it matter, 7114? Royisa is safe now, and we've stopped Nuryyn from their original plan. History will remember you as one of those that helped stop it."

"Well fuck history! I don't care what happens! This isn't victory for us, this is a cheat. A lie!"

"Would you rather have Royisa enslaved to Nuryyn, then?"

"N- No--"

"Then stay. Silent." King Nikolas sighed, and he clasped his hands together. "I don't care what has to be done. Nuryyn was terrorizing us for so long, and this is the only way we can win. So if you don't like it, you're free to leave."

Peter furrowed his brows and clenched his hands even tighter. After a deep breath, he loosened them both.

"Then I quit."

He grabbed the bolo tie from his neck and removed it, tossing it on the table. King Nikolas and Petra didn't even move. They just stared at him.

"I'm leaving the Royisan Army. I'm not your Super Soldier anymore. I. Quit."

King Nikolas shot him a glare, and it made his spine shiver. He was ready to face anything. Execution, exile--whatever it was. As long as it meant leaving this godsforsakened place.

"Then leave. We'll be better off with less people like you. Don't bother writing a resignation letter or anything. Leave the moment you see it fit."

Peter's eyes slightly widened. It wasn't the answer he was expecting, but he didn't care. At least he didn't have to do any paperwork or explain himself to his lower ranks why he was going to leave. He stormed out of the Battle Room, went to his own room, and grabbed every essential item he needed.

The others would just think he was out for a walk, but they would never notice him not returning.

As soon as he stepped out of the Royal Gates, Peter turned to the castle one last time. He was leaving it all. His former home, his former comrades, and his former place to go.

He shook his head and turned away, continuing his walk down the pavement from the castle and into the town.

He was a weapon, and weapons didn't weep.

But for the first time in his entire life, Peter let a single tear shed down his face.