CHAPTER ELEVEN
Boku hung on the crucifix that the Empire soldiers had nailed him to days ago, the last of his people alive since the great s*******r, somehow, despite his wishes, still clinging to life. He had stopped feeling the pain and agony—that had passed days ago. He no longer felt the agony searing through his palms, no longer felt the dehydration, the burning of the suns on his skin. He was beyond all that now, so close to death. All that he still felt was his intense grief for his people, all of whom had died beside him in their siege of Volusia, all massacred before his eyes. He craved to see them all again, and had cursed the gods that he had been left alive.
But Boku was too spent to even have room to curse now. There was nothing left in him but to die. He prayed to the gods
