Epilogue

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  After the success of the Allied invasion of Normandy, the Allies had soon liberated Paris from Nazi Germany on August 25 of 1944. After 4 years of oppression, many French parisians had finally had their wish of freedom and liberty fulfilled. On May 8 of 1945, Nazi Germany had finally surrendered to the Allies— ending World War II in the European Theater. After the Third Reich had fallen, Germany was now chopped in four by the Allies. The United States, Great Britain, and France had established zones on the western side of Germany while the Soviet Union had occupied the east.
  In the midst of occupation, Germany had suffered immensely from Allied bombing raids— decimating cities that contained homes, people, and aspirations. The people of Germany had often found themselves encountering food shortages and homelessness during the aftermath of World War II. There was no glory or pride retrieved from such a war. There was no martyrdom or bravery for fighting for the greed of leaders. There was only the consequences of pain and suffering that had all signs endured, regardless of the victory. 
  After a week of the end of World War II in Europe, Drystan now found himself back in England as he looked at a gravestone of Gretilde Blasius. Rain drenched his coat and his hair, his cobalt irises frigid and resigned. He found himself as an agent on side of the victors, yet he felt no pride, no happiness, no pleasure, nor contentment. Reaching into his pocket, he took a pack of cigarettes— the brand that Gretilde had often smoked before placed it on by her gravestone. The cigarettes were incapable of being lit as the pack had begun to become doused with water.
  He continued to stare at her gravestone for several hours while his clothing absorbed the cold water of the rainstorm. Afterwards, he took out a peculiar pill from his pocket. Looking at it on his palm, it was a lethal pill that was initially hidden in his teeth once he was deployed in France. He examined the pill, his cobalt eyes gazing upon it. He countenance was completely stoic and emotionless as there was no sign on anguish of grief on his face.
  His true name was Hale Agapov. However, there was no one alive who knew that name as the war had destroyed him and everyone he held close.

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