I

Jung gazed out the window, his eyes fixed on the rivulets of rain streaming down and drumming softly against the glass. As Jung peered out, he took in the desolate road and the forsaken vehicles that rolled past him, remnants of once a busy commute. The quiet and long journey he passed was unsettling, especially when he sat with four men armed with rifles inside a full-sized automobile. They turned the radio on, listening to music on the FM broadcast. Jung tracked every raindrop as it splattered against the window, tallying them silently in his head. This is it, this might be his last life, Jung thought.

Or maybe a new one.

“Are you okay back there, Jung?” a soldier in front of Jung’s seat asked.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” Jung replied while still counting the rain.

“Because we’re here. We are nearly at the outskirts of Harut,” he peeked back to see Jung.

“Why did Henry send us here? Isn’t Harut lost to the Nagarian? I saw the tape the soldiers sent to me,” Jung turned his attention to the soldier.

“This is going to be a bold move. He selected us to accompany you because we're going to capture images of the war. Plus…” the soldier raised his index finger. “There’s something the military wants, and you can help us.”

“They chose me to help the military?” Jung was baffled by the idea.

“Well… not for the military straight away. It’s going to be a simple photo opportunity,” the soldier dismissed the negative. “We help you, and then you follow us to a certain place. It’s going to be alright. We’ve been doing this since the start.”

“Where is this certain place?” Jung waited for an answer as he leaned back in his seat with heavy breathing.

“You’ll see,” the soldier returned back to his seat facing forward.

After the journey ended, they left the car and showered with rain. Jung’s boot stepped on a small puddle on the asphalt road. Jung exited the car and his raincoat met the heavy droplets of the storm. Even though his fedora covered his head, the water eventually soaked it heavily.

Jung watched his surroundings, a small neighbourhood once a home full of lives is now deserted. Belongings left out in the open, mail left unchecked, doors and windows left opened. Among all that, Jung saw one or two houses with a giant destruction where the walls or the roof broke down. Jung walked to a house with a lawn mower in the yard. Jung saw the pattern of the grass, cut and uncut.

“Jung!,” a soldier called. “Come here. I’ve something to tell you.”

Jung turned and walked back to the group waiting for him. When he walked two steps away from the lawn, Jung heard an explosion in the distance. With his instinct, he ducked and covered his head. Jung watched the soldiers flinch but none ducked. After the explosion passed, Jung stood again and quickly walked to the group.

“What was that!?” Jung held his fedora as he walked back.

“Artillery shell probably. I think that was us firing back at the Nagarian,” the captain of the group explained with doubt in his voice. “Nevermind that. We will bring you to a designated place Agent Henry told us. It’s an apartment block inside Harut, we heard there is a refugee taking shelter. There you can write your propaganda,” the captain screamed to Jung when the rain kept getting louder in their ears “Do you understand?”

“I do! But what about the other thing?” Jung screamed back.

“It’s another task, not by Henry, but from our friend at Rowen!” the captain got closer to Jung’s ear and screamed. “We need to take a picture of a military base! It’s full of Nagarian, but something we have to do! We’ll sneak in, take pictures, then leave.”

“That’s insane!” Jung protested. “We could die if they spot us.”

“Sorry. Even Henry cannot deny the order. We need to do this,” the captain lowered his voice, pointing at the earth. “Before we walk, I need to do something,” his eyes gazed at Jung.

“What is it?” Jung answered with a shaky voice.

“This,” the captain revealed a serum from a pouch on his chest. “Take it,” he handed it to Jung. “If something happened,” he stared at Jung dead in his eyes. “Use it. Stab yourself.”

“What is this?” Jung inspected the colourless liquid inside the serum.

The captain just stared at him, both of them just stood there under the rain. He then turned around and walked away with his squad, with Jung following them at the rear.

They traversed the rough terrain of concrete boulders and scattered furniture on the street of Harut. Jung visited this city a couple of times, once a symbol of capitalism and prosperity, now only a ruin. Jung couldn’t even see the landmarks of Harut, they are now replaced by the smoke of war. Cautiously they thread inside the enemy territories, quiet and full of pressure. They sprinted every time they crossed the empty road, hiding from Nagarians, to walk behind damp and wet alleys. Rats infested the crooks and crannies of the city’s ruins, assisted by the constant explosions far in the distance which startled the rats.

“How long will we be here?” Jung asked when he climbed a ruin of a building blocking the path.

“Eight hours until sunrise,” the captain checked his watch.

“I can walk for eight hours. But in this terrain?” Jung stared at the fallen building in front of him. “I can’t do this.”

“Think of it as a sport,” chatted the captain, laughing with his soldiers.

“The only sport I can do is Nagarian Martial Art, and I did that when I’m still ten,” Jung grunts as he tiptoes down the building ruins.

“Come now. We are nearly there. No need to be tired yet, Jung,” he chuckled.

As Jung chased the group in front, the captain opened a backdoor to an intact apartment complex. They entered the building and the soldiers made sure the room was clear. Carefully they scanned each floor armed with their rifles and found no threats. At the last moment, they stood before a room with a single linear scratch marked on the wooden door. The soldiers nodded at each other, and then the captain stared at the door gap below. He stood there, intensely checking the door frames for suspicious items.

But then, the door opened.

“Oh!” a young male teenager startled when he opened the door to see the soldiers. “Are you…” the teenager calmed himself when he realised the soldiers presented themselves without rifles in hand. “You’re here. Please,” he opened the door wide. “Come in before they see us.”

The soldiers entered along with Jung. They checked the room, rubbing the walls, and peeking at the gaps between the furniture of the apartment. Once they cleared the whole room, a soldier closed the window, shutting the lights from the outside. The teenager lit candles with the soldiers, just enough to illuminate the room. Once that was done, the soldiers looked at Jung.

“We are here,” the captain announced, raising his hands to show the setup. “The interview you’ve been waiting for.”

“Wha- What? I thought you were here to save me?” the teenager stuttered, looking at the soldiers with horror in his eyes.

“We are. But before we do, we—” the captain corrected himself with a cough. “He has questions to ask,” the captain pointed at Jung. “He is your friend, acquainted with the men of Rowen,” the captain stood with an aura of authority and respect.

It terrified the teenager, but once he said Jung was a man of Rowen, the teenager held his breath. Jung watched the teenager as he was scared for his life. He approached the captain and put his head beside the captain’s face.

“What is going on?” Jung whispered, pressing his teeth to contain his annoyance.

“An interview. Isn’t that what we are here for?” confidently the captain answered.

“Why is there a kid here? You scared him shitless!” Jung put his mouth just beside the captain’s ear.

“Good, then he will say nothing but the truth,” the captain turned his face an inch away from Jung’s. “Time for the interview, sir,” he smiled with innocence.

Jung backed away, then turned around to see the kid shaking his legs. He turned to the side and saw a comfortable sofa left unscarred from the war.

“Please,” Jung gestured to the seat.

The teenager slowly made his way to the seat and sat in tension, even Jung could see the veins pumping beneath the teenager’s skin. By the time the teenager sat down, Jung let himself sit down across him, separated by a small glass table. His wet overcoat soaked the soft sofa, Jung decided to take off his coat and placed it beside him. Jung noticed the teenager couldn’t even look at him, then Jung slowly revealed papers from his coat, dry and untouched from the rain. He read the questions he made, there was also a paper closed inside an envelope. A question made by Henry.

“Are you okay? Something is bothering you?” Jung asked with curiosity.

“No…” the teenager answered without looking.

“Are you feeling uneasy?” Jung pursued the answer with another question.

“I want to go home…” he sobbed. “My family is waiting for me.”

Jung looked at the soldiers with a questioning look, then the captain nodded with a stern face.

“It’s alright,” Jung assured the teenager with a word. “It’ll be okay after this,” Jung offered his handkerchief.

The teenager finally looked at Jung and took the handkerchief Jung offered. He wiped his tears and handed them back to Jung. The teenager sniffed, keeping the sadness within. Jung pocketed the cloth away and waited for the teenager to calm down.

“Are you ready?” Jung waited for an answer, tilting his posture towards the teenager.

The kid nodded and Jung tapped the pages on his hands on the table to even out the height of the papers. Jung could hear the breath of every person inside the room, even the dancing flame on the candles. Jung grabbed a small black box from his pocket and placed it on the table, followed by clicking a small button labelled with the word ‘record’.

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“Tell me your name?” Jung asked the first question from the paper.

“My name is Lukas,” the teenager revealed with a sob.

“You’re doing good Lukas,” Jung comforted him. “Tell me, how’s your life before war?”

“I—I live with my family. My parents and my sister. We live on the Red Coast,” Lukas’ voice shivered.

“The Capital?” Jung was taken aback. “Why are you here then?”

“School trip. We visited Polny, started in Ordo, Harut, Lozno, and then here. Harut.”

“Was it a good trip?” Jung placed the paper on the table.

“Yes,” Lukas nodded.

“Were you here when the war started?” Jung read from the paper.

“We were on our way here. We heard the news when we arrived at the hotel in the morning,” Lukas recalled, looking at the ground. “When we heard it, I knew Harut would be the first city they would come to.”

“So you’ve been here since the war,” Jung stared at Lukas’ eyes. “So you saw the battles here in Harut?”

“I watched them all. They came inside the hotel we were staying, and they dragged everyone outside,” Lukas’ hands couldn’t stop moving.

“So what about you? How did you escape them?” the captain asked from the side view. “Of course, they didn’t just pick you because you are special, right?” he took small steps toward the quivering Lukas.

Jung raised his hand, ordering him to stop. The captain crossed his arms and stepped back to his soldiers.

“Lukas. What happens next?” Jung asked nicely in a calm manner.

“They separated the men and women. Children and adults. Then I never saw my friends again,” Lukas turned his attention back to Jung.

“Did they hurt you? Locked you?” Jung bobbed his head.

“They didn’t. The Nagarians treated me well.”

“That’s good. But what do you mean by nice,” Jung lightens the mood.

“They gave me food, shelter, and a safe place for me here in Harut,” Lukas explained with truth in his voice.

“Did they want something in return?” Jung questioned and listened attentively.

“Yes. They did,” he nodded.

When Jung and Lukas talked back and forth, a soldier carrying a radio talked with the captain. Jung saw them but returned to listen to Lukas.

“What was it,” Jung’s brows furrowed.

“Sir,” the captain approached Jung and whispered. “We have ten minutes.”

“Why?” Jung was frazzled by the information.

“We heard Nagarian radio chatter. They’re near,” the captain clarified with a tense face.

“Lukas,” Jung stared at the teenager. “Back to the question… What did they want?”

“The Nagarians. They sheltered me. Making sure I’m not harmed,” Lukas spoke quietly, but enough for the room to hear.

“Lukas… the question,” Jung reminded the teenager, slightly raising his voice.

“Jung! The questions from Henry, ask him!” the captain warned.

Jung opened the envelope, revealing a series of questions. Jung's face turned pale, realising the situation.

“These are not questions,” Jung murmurs. “This is an interrogation.”

A soldier peeked, slightly opening the window’s curtain to keep watch of the street. The radio operator left the room and closed the door in a hurry. Jung turned back and looked at Lukas, both of them gave a worrying look.

“Did you or did you not work with the Nagarian… military?” Jung queried hastily, then turned his head to the captain with a puzzled look.

“I did,” Lukas spoke with shame, staring down and grabbing his hair. “I was scared the Nagarians would hurt me. They looked scary in those uniforms. The mask they wore, the patterns…” Lukas breathed heavily. “When you see them in regular clothes, we mock their souls. Once they wear the mask of the military, the helmets. They are devils on earth,” he raised his head to look at Jung. “I cannot say no to them,” Lukas cried. “I’m nothing to them.”

Jung looked at the description the teenager gave, his eyes were petrified. His body hairs raised in horror. Jung continued to read the next question inside Henry’s paper.

“Did you reveal any information that may harm Hellsum’s military or the whole?” Jung then raised his head to Lukas as he finished reading.

“I told them I would show where our army was stationed, in exchange…” Lukas paused and made Jung wait, he almost started to cry.

“Lukas?” the pause made him sit on the edge of the seat.

“In exchange for me and a classmate of mine to live together at the shelter they gave me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I did bad things!” Lukas fell to his knees. “Please. Get me out of here!”

The captain heard talking on the radio, he then rushed to Jung and grabbed his arms.

“They’re here. We need to leave!” the captain warned.

Jung ended the interview and grabbed his belongings and ran to the door. Before the captain closed it, Jung realised they left Lukas inside crying.

“No, wait!” Lukas sobbed.

“Hey, the kid!” Jung stopped his feet looking back at Lukas right outside the room they were in.

“Forget him. We need to save ourselves,” the captain screamed to Jung’s face.

“We’re not leaving without him,” Jung pointed at the captain in anger.

“This was not the mission, Jung,” the captain shot back, grimacing.

It didn’t stop Jung from running back and grabbed the kid by the arm. When the captain saw them running back, he just sighed and continued their escape. After descending the two-level building, a soldier jumped to their escape and showed the exit door through the alley.

“Through here! The Nagarians are out front!” he said as Jung and the others escaped.

The group left on foot, and five people ran through the dark and dank road of Harut. When they were about to leave the alley, a Nagarian truck went past the alley. A soldier stopped running and fell backwards. The group halted, taking cover from the open road they were about to cross. Once the soldier who fell peeked out, they realised the Nagarians didn’t spot them.

“Hey, come here,” the captain called everyone to gather. “New plan. Me, Jung, and the radio operator will go do the other task. You,” the captain pointed to a soldier, “will be getting this traitorous bastard back to the car. Clear?”

“Yes, sir!” the soldier nodded. “Hurry,” he then grabbed Lukas by the arm and dragged him to follow.

“Let’s go, Jung,” the captain waved them to come.

The three ran away from the last scene. Jung heard the truck’s tires brake when they arrived at the apartment complex. Jung kept running as fast as he could, following the captain to another part of the city.

II

Following a tense trek through the city's desolate streets, navigating a maze of abandoned buildings, the captain raised his right hand in a clench and signalled the group to an abrupt halt. He peeked out to the streets to see lights flashing towards the street they were in.

“Down!” he ordered quietly, lowering himself to the ground.

Jung dropped to all fours, his breath held in a desperate attempt at silence. The group heard a creaking noise of metallic clanks and rumbles approaching closer to them. The captain slightly poked his head out to see the current situation. Jung heard the sound of creeping footsteps beneath the continuous mechanical whirring outside, bouncing every side of the empty dusty street.

“Nagarians,” the captain mumbled. “Stay low, and follow me,” he stared into Jung’s eyes, holding his head. “Got it?”

The captain let go and led Jung and the radio operator away from the Nagarians, sneaking past them while they went the other way. Jung clamped his mouth shut, his heart thundering in his chest like a relentless drumbeat. He raised his hands, watching them shaking horribly. The group was finally in a clear and rested when the rain slowly disappeared.

They hid in a dark narrow alleyway, with the smell of trash all over the place. Jung closed his nose and breathed through his mouth, but the smell was still there. The captain grabbed the radio operator transmitter and whispered through the phone connected to it. Jung leaned back on a wall, panting and controlling his breath. He calmed down, taking deep breaths to rid the painful sensation in his lungs. Jung looked to his side, watching the captain talk on the phone. The droplets of calming rain eased him, and then it stopped. The rain was no more.

When he waited for them to finish the call through the radio, something caught them by surprise. A loud bang happened, followed by a ringing on a fire escape near Jung’s head. The captain dropped the radio phone and grabbed his rifle. Jung ducked and looked around, everything was dark, but he heard the thunderous sound of a rifle at the end of the alley where they entered.

The captain and the radio operator took cover and retaliated with their rifles. Jung hid behind a trash bin, kneeling whilst holding his hat. The enemies remained hidden from Jung's sight, but suddenly, a Nagarian soldier materialised seemingly out of thin air behind the captain. He strangled the captain, making his gunfire uncontrollably into the air. The captain kicked his gun, sending it to Jung. The journalist held the rifle with tremors in his hands. He saw a dark figure behind the captain, choking him. Jung took aim and fired, but his shot missed, the bullet ricocheting off the concrete wall and disappearing into the darkness. But it was enough to startle the attacking soldier and free the captain, so he took out his pistol and gunned the attacker dead.

“Follow me!” the captain ordered, shouting.

They ran away from the alley shootout to the open streets. They ran as fast as they could, sometimes the captain shot back when someone fired at them. Jung didn’t look back, running with his hands swinging back and forth with quick steps. Even though Jung didn’t know where he was running to, his instinct was to run away. He catches up with the radio operator, then his head gets blown off. Blood and pink objects splatter to the side of Jung’s coat and face. The journalist stopped and saw the soldier fall down dead, he screamed in terror looking at the corpse. Then, Jung watched the captain sprinting towards him. He grabbed Jung and led him in a desperate sprint, leaving billowing smoke behind them.

Jung saw bullets fly out of the smoke, nearly hitting him. Jung ran once again, catching up to the captain. It stopped short when a similar sound approached them. Low metallic rumbling on the ground, arose from a road to the left. It drifted in front of them, blinding lights pointed at them. Jung stopped with the captain, raising their hands to obstruct the bright light. They heard guns cocked and felt they were pointed at them. Numerous Nagarians soldiers stood in front of the light with rifles ready to shoot. Jung couldn’t see them because of the blinding lights behind the Nagarians.

“Jung, use the serum!” the captain told Jung hastily.

Clumsily Jung grabbed the serum from his coat and injected it into his body through the neck. Jung watched the captain as he stood there, gazing at him, and the world began to dim. His vision blurred, and he steadily fell down. His body weakened, and the world was heavy. Then he hit the ground hard on his head, he watched the captain stand there looking at him. Raising his hands to surrender.

III

The world felt heavy. Jung couldn’t breathe, his chest felt pressed hard. His eyes barely opened, and he regained consciousness. Jung looked at his side. He saw a man looking at him in the eyes. But his vision darkened once again.

Jung's eyes fluttered open again after what seemed like a brief moment. This time, he experienced a newfound lightness in his body. But something grabbed and threw him enough to wake Jung fully. The journalist coughed and tried his best to stand up with his fragile body. Jung looked around and saw a ditch with corpses beside it. He rubbed his eyes, seeing what was in front of him. Then something hit him on the back of his head, creating a loud clunk as it hit. He fell and turned to see what had happened.

Two Nagarians in grey uniforms. They wore a helmet, with a balaclava beneath it. Short-stature men, one holding a rifle and the other holding a shovel. They looked at Jung, crumbling beneath them. Desperately, the journalist raised his hands, trying to obscure himself from the soldiers' view, praying that he remained hidden. He cried in the ditch, whimpering, even urinating his pants.

The Nagarians stood watch by the side of the ditch; they spoke to each other in their language.

“Please… Don’t kill me,” Jung begged. “Please!” he rolled himself, grabbing his legs to a ball. “I’m scared,” tears poured down from his eyes as he quivered.

A Nagarian looked at him crying. He threw his rifle and revealed a small curved knife shaped like a claw. The soldier entered the ditch, grabbed Jung by the collar, and slit his throat from ear to ear. The journalist held his throat, trying to close the wound and the pouring of blood. Abandoning Jung to die in the ditch, they tossed the corpses atop him. Moments later, he found himself buried beneath layers of soil.

IV

Somewhere in the barren desert, lies an unmarked grave. Surrounded by Hellsum's military equipment, it acts like a tribal mark of a foreign burial ground. Deep in the desert of Harut, a strong sandstorm occurred. Winds blind the vision of every being, deafening the ear from the screaming wind.

Then, a hand crawled out from the grave. Neither from curse nor bless. Just on the surface of the grave, a person approached. It stood there, inches away. The hand buried on the ground felt the presence, wiggling intensely to the person. Then it grabbed my hand, pulling it out.