The embers roared fiercely in the cover of night, illuminating the surrounding forest in an eerie orange. Even from a distance, the heat on my face was unbearable and the smoke was suffocating. But what was worse was the blood curdling screams. They were haunting, echoing between the trees like the cries of banshees.

I looked around at my men, all armed but staring helplessly at the church engulfed in flames. They were young and naive, and so was I. But I know that is not an excuse.

"BAM!!!"

The front door swung open, and a man rushed out, baby in hand, panting. Behind him, his wife followed, coughing heavily from the smoke. A family. Somehow, they managed to escape.

As they recovered, the man's eyes strayed to us. "Look honey! Just a bit more!" He screamed excitedly as he pointed at us uniformed men. Without any hesitation, he pulled her by her wrist, bringing his family closer to us.

My men glanced over at me with a look of uncertainty. None of them dared to do it.

I closed my eyes slowly. Our orders were simple. Shoot anyone in sight. No one is to survive.

"Mister… don't move."

In one motion, I drawed my pistol, aiming squarely in between his eyes. The least I could do is make it quick, I thought.

"Wait, what are you doing?" He stuttered as he took a few steps back, unsure what was happening. His wife only looked on in shock, bringing the babe closer to her chest. But before he could run…

"BANG!"

The flames and screams muffled the sound of gunshot, yet the sound of his body crashing on the floor felt oddly loud.

His wife landed on her knees, shaking and in tears. Slowly she turned her head up to me, then to my men, hoping one of us would sympathize. "No… please don't…" She begged.

I didn't hesitate this time.

"BANG!"

The second shot felt worse. I did it. I killed another citizen. A woman no less. No, a mom. I bit my lips hard so as to hold back my tears. To my sides I could hear the sound of my men sobbing quietly to themselves. No words needed to be exchanged. We were soldiers, shouldn't we be protecting them? Why must we kill our own people?

All that was left now was the babe, crying on the dirt floor.

The surrounding sky glowed the same orange hue as other buildings were set on fire. From the distance, gunshots were heard as other platoons pump lead into their victims. There was a slight reassurance in my heart, knowing I am not the only one committing such atrocities, that other platoons who were doing the same. But that very same feeling made me hate myself even more.

I looked back at the child, eyes still unable to open, crying helplessly in the dark. Its arms flailed in an attempt to feel its parents' warmth. I dropped my arms to my side. A single thought ran in my head, is this right?

No. It's too late anyways.

"It is my duty… it is my duty… it is my duty…" I chanted to myself with heavy breaths. That's right, it's my job. I clenched my teeth hard. Once again, though more hesitantly this time, I aimed my pistol.

"Bang!"

***

"WHEEEE!!!"

The steam alarms screeched, awaking me from my slumber. I felt my bed sheets. It was moist in my own cold sweat. It was that dream again.

One by one the officers next door began moaning and groaning in a cacophony of misery, all unwilling to start the day.

I looked up to Grand Apostle Ra's portrait hanging ominously on the wall opposite my bed. Thankfully, the condensation from the steam mixed with the dim lighting made it hard to see his face.

Lazily, I threw my blanket on the floor as the air around me turned the bunk unbearably humid. I took the sand out of my eyes and brushed away the water droplets formed on the inside of the windows. As my eyes adjusted, I gazed out the window. There I saw the central clock tower located just beyond the training ground, standing ominously in the dark. It was only half past 5 in the morning; the citizens were still sound asleep, the sun wasn't even up and the steam locomotives weren't even operating yet. But for some reason, for the recruits, training had already begun. Such is life in the military.

My gaze dropped towards the training grounds where the recruits were doing their running drills. I let out a sigh of relief knowing those nightmarish days were already over.

Though that said, it's not like I have had much free time these days either.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the creaking of rusted gears could be heard just outside the window. Clipped onto the woolen string was a folded piece of paper along with the daily news. I opened the window and as routined, tossed the newspaper into the bin. There was never anything worth reading. The state has censored and twisted the stories till it became just another medium for the Grand Apostle to deliver his propaganda.

As for the slip of paper, it contained my daily order. Usually, it was the same old bunch of duties: plan this, meet up that… the typical mundane jobs of a soldier. However, today there was only a single line that stood out like a sore thumb…

"Report to Commanding Officer - 06:00 a.m."

My fingers dug into my temple as I let out a sigh. What did I do this time? I thought. Quickly, I got changed into my uniform.

Ten minutes later, I reported to the canteen. I still had some time to get food before I had to go.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Immediately, I was greeted by the suffocating smell of masculine sweat. Training must have just ended for the recruits as a line of sweaty, tanned men were hungrily queueing for their breakfast. So hungry and eager, in fact, that they failed to notice me walk by. Not that I mind. It's nice when it's quiet.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw a janitor on the ladder. In his hands was a picture of our God and leader, the Grand Apostle Ra. The janitor wiped it clean carefully before slowly hanging it on a perch in front of the canteen. Under my breath, I swore at his portrait. Petty, but that's the only thing I could do.

"Oh! Morning sir!" One of the sharper recruits greeted suddenly, with a slight shakiness to his voice. The other recruits immediately took notice, and then a tidal wave of greetings started pouring in.

I smiled weakly out of courtesy. Hopefully they didn’t see that.

With quickened steps, I reached the other side of the canteen, where my food was served. To be honest, I am not sure why they are so eager to eat. Our menu is divided by our ranks: the officers had potatoes and steak, the sergeants had broccoli and shredded chicken and finally the privates and recruits had gruel and boiled spam. Even after breakfast, all that is awaiting them is another round of training till lunch.

"Quite the popular one aren't you." A rough voice came from behind the queue.

I quickly turned around to see a tanned-skin young man with blonde hair, smiling. His name is Lieutenant Jabari, a good friend of mine. Without much hesitation, he rested his hand around my shoulders, as if we knew each other since childhood. Charismatic as always it seems.

"Nah… it is just because of my rank." I brushed it off.

Jabari and I were bunkmates in the officer academy. He had a moderate frame packed with muscles. The result of never missing a day in training. As for his personality, he is a kind hearted extrovert, the type that you wouldn’t hesitate meeting your parents. But don’t let his teddy bear exterior fool you. He is still a soldier at heart. Fierce, reliable and strong; someone you wouldn’t want to mess with.

"Oh hey Sir Jabari and Seth, fancy meeting you here!"

This time it was a cheery voice that greeted us. I looked up to see a fair-skinned young man saluting us. It was Sergeant Tarik, my junior.

I waved uncomfortably.

"Oh… drop the honorifics. You will probably out-rank me in a few years anyways." Jabari jokes.

Tarik smiled sheepishly. He was a sweet kid, not the type you would expect to join the military; good grades, soft-spoken and short in stature. Believe it or not, he was an up-and-coming young prospect in the military. Probably helped that his two older brothers joined the navy. Within just 2 years, he was promoted to the rank of platoon sergeant. For context it took me 4 years to become a platoon sergeant, and another 3 before I could take the officer examination.

From the east side of the canteen, a holy choir began singing. The once buzzling canteen turned pin drop silent. Every soldier, janitor, lunchlady, regardless of occupation or rank, put their conversations on hold, kneeling before the picture of the Grand Apostle; almost like we were all brainwashed.

Priests and monks then walked through us splashing holy water on our heads. I winced as some of it entered my eyes. It was the morning sermons.

I always found the morning sermons interesting as you can see which of the two categories people fall into. The first are the patriotic and obedient ones. They pray seriously to the Grand Apostle. Then there are those who have lost faith in the Apostles. They kneel but do not pray.

I glanced at Tarik whose hands were in praying position. His eyes were glued shut as he focussed on his prayers. He belonged to the first category. Then I glanced at Jabari who in return looked at me. We smiled at each other with our arms by our side.

“Deeeng… Deeeeng…”

As the choir stopped, a bell rang. Like a hypnotist snapping his fingers, we all were awakened from our trance and the canteen was buzzling once again.

Tarik was the last to stand up.

"Since you are here, care to join us Tarik?" Jabari suggested innocently.

I squinted at him with slight annoyance. Thankfully, Tarik didn't seem to notice.

"Sure!"

He smiled brightly as he nodded his head, making it hard for me to refuse.

The three of us then sat together at the table away from the recruits. Jabari cut his steak into 3 pieces. One for him, one for me and the other for Tarik. In return he took some of our potatoes and broccolis. According to him, the men here needed more meat on them. But I know it is just his way of looking out for us.

"Thank you so much Sir Jabari" Tarik bowed in gratitude.

"As I said, drop the honorifics." Jabari replied, slightly annoyed before laughing it off.

I stopped cutting my steak, before staring at Tarik's small frame. The more I looked at him, the more out of place he looked. It's a real pity. Someone with brains like him could have been a scientist or a doctor, or at least someone beneficial to our society, yet he chose to waste it here as a soldier.

"Tarik, do you like the military?" I asked.

"Huh? Of course!" He said excitedly.

"Why?"

Jabari opened his eyes wide. From underneath the table he kicked my leg, almost as if warning me not to push the topic further. I nodded.

"Simple. I want to protect the citizens of Khamaseen. I want to protect my family and friends." He said proudly. Truly a model soldier.

With my eyelids closed, I rolled my eyes. That was the answer I didn't want to hear. Then again I had no right to criticize him.

"Perfect answer from a perfect soldier." I teased, causing him to blush once again.

"By the way Sir Seth, have you read the news?" Tarik suddenly asked.

"About the recent budget adjustments?" Jabari chipped in, not wanting to be left out.

"Yup. Grand Apostle Ra is going to increase the military budget." Tarik chirped, "He aims to make Khamaseen a military powerhouse that could stand toe-to-toe against the Hagane Kingdom and the Isstormur Empire."

Jabari couldn't help but chuckle. But he quickly hid it for the sake of professionalism.

Tarik flashed a smile that was both optimistic and naive. I couldn't help but feel guilty. I remember being just like that when I first signed on. Now, I know that they were all just lies. Between every line of legislation, point raised in a conference, statement made in front of an audience, anything said by an Apostle always has an ulterior motive.

Afterall, there is no way we could hope to stand up to the Kingdom or Empire. Both of them have populations far exceeding Khamaseen, with centuries of military expertise under their belt. We on the other hand are just a small country that happens to be part of the "Alliance"; a line of other small countries that separate the two behemoths.

Then there is also the difference in strength of our Apostles. Ra may be a descendant of God, like the other Apostles, but his family's power has been diluted over the generations. Now, he is barely a fraction of the great gods that once reigned over our lands.

And Ra knows this. Though incompetent, he is no fool. What Ra is truly after, is control. With more power and men, he could easily subdue insurrections and threats to his throne. The change in budget is also a nifty excuse he could use to raise the taxes. Essentially, Ra aims to militarize the state, turning the military into his own personal police force.

"What's wrong Seth? Don't zone out on us. It's scary." Jabari snapped me out of it.

I glanced over to my left. Tarik looked at me with slight concern before smiling at me. "Must be hard being an officer." He joked.

I faked a snicker. "Sorry, to be honest, I am required to report to the Commanding Officer at 6. I am not really looking forward to it." I gave an excuse, not that it was a lie.

"Huh… so I was not the only one to get that order." Jabari muttered. "Here I thought I was going to be chewed out for doing something wrong. But if you are going, it should be fine right?" He patted me on my shoulders, almost as if comforting me that it was all alright.

"I don't know…" I replied.

We both looked at one another with an air of dread over us. Although faint, I could see Jabari swallowing a mouthful of spit. Nothing good ever comes from the Commanding Officer.

"Wait… Sir, did you say 6?" Tarik suddenly jolted.

We both stared at him with a puzzled look. He pointed towards the clock tower.

"It is already 5:55 a.m.!"