The Amazarak warriors looked at one another, hesitating—confused, uncertain.
Some shifted uneasily, while others exchanged glances with old comrades.
Then, an Armand officer stepped forward,
his crisp uniform, clean gloves, and a stack of prepared documents in hand.
"Alright." His voice was calm but firm.
He held up a thick folder.
"Anyone choosing to return to the Amazarak Kingdom—step to the left.
Those choosing to stay within Armand and begin a new life—move to the right."
He didn't shout, but his tone left no room for questions.
"Let's not waste time. Line up and decide."
One of the Amazarak warriors blinked, looking at his hands—still trembling.
Then he slowly stood.
A few more followed.
The quiet shuffling of feet began.
Left.
Right.
Some hesitated halfway, standing awkwardly in the center before making their choice.
No guards forced them. No officers rushed them.
Among the crowd, only one warrior stood alone on the left side.
