Chapter 1
Five years.
Five years since the war began.
Five years in a world where only two ideologies remain — and only one can survive.
On one side, freedom and life.
On the other, submission and terror.
I lean my head against the cold window, watching the ruined streets pass by. The rattling of the military truck makes the handles on the ceiling tremble, where some of my comrades hold on with steady hands — already used to the shaking of the vehicle. There aren’t enough seats for everyone.
The dim white light illuminates the faces of those who fought by my side. Dark circles under their eyes, distant stares, skin covered in sweat and dust. Some have cuts on their faces, others wear the dried blood of an enemy on their uniforms. Men and women of different ages, different places, but all united by the same oath, the same fight. They are my family.
My uniform is dirty, torn in a few places. I can feel the crust of blood on my arm, sticking to my skin. I don’t know if it’s mine or someone else’s. And for the first time all day, I allow myself to close my eyes — even if just for a moment.
The harsh jolt of the truck as it hits a speed bump shakes me abruptly. I open my eyes again.
My gaze locks onto the cadet sitting a bit further ahead.
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Sixteen years old.
Far too young to be here.
He has reddish-brown hair, a shade that under the pale lights of the truck looks almost copper. A few freckles stand out on his sunburnt, dirt-stained skin. He’s not pale — his skin has that sun-worn tint, like the heat of war has left its mark on him too. His eyes are a contradiction. Gentle — but at the same time, defiant. Like there’s still some innocence left inside him, but reality is forcing him to leave it behind. He’s tall for his age, but not overly so. Just enough that, at a quick glance, you might mistake him for another soldier.
But he’s not.
Not yet.
His uniform is filthy, just like mine. Stains of dust, sweat, and dried blood cover the fabric. His hands, dirty with soil, grip the rifle like he still doesn’t know what to do with it.
“They won’t hesitate. So neither will you.”
The firm voice cuts through the silence.
The cadet tenses up. So do I.
That coldness in the voice — it’s all too familiar. Far too familiar.
“Understood?”
The boy nods without raising his head.
I let out a quiet sigh and lean my head back against the window. Outside, the destroyed city flashes past in flickers of dim light.
The ride continues in the same silence. No one speaks. No one complains. At this point, exhaustion weighs heavier than any words.
The truck comes to a stop. The doors open, and the freezing air rushes in.
We step down in order. The soldiers who were standing get off first. Then the rest of us. My boots hit solid ground, and I feel the change in temperature on my face.
In front of us, the lights of the military base break through the darkness. Further ahead, the concrete buildings with their glowing windows wait for us. Dormitories, mess halls, strategy rooms. It’s not just a base.
It’s our home.
Some soldiers head straight to their quarters. Others stand there for a moment, like they need to catch their breath before moving on.
I pull up the zipper of my jacket and walk without rushing. I’m tired. We all are.
But tomorrow… tomorrow we keep going.