A camp from within the war zone we sit, the perspective of someone who fast bit, bit the bullet and gone away, to war! The sound of a early morning and shots, the sound of muzzles flaring hot with lead, trenches built out from broken rock ground, once a city, now full of war and hounds. Looters, Rebels, The Army you soon see, a mix of the fortunate, and less see. A strange peace built on tensions sky clouds high! The marching of the army walks through camp, clothing damp with mist and salty warm sweat. As always there were the drills; munitions, they were running shorter fast.

A mans gaze looks over the camp, rebels, they had sent him here onto this war front. Fed up with their status, lazily earned, they sought to take from the country which housed, pitiful yes, harmful more than helpful, that too. But the war isn’t that simple, it never is, yet he’d like to close them, his eyes which shook with guilt and confusion. This was a choke point, a turning point “A”, one of the locations most important, a place which held much significance first, emotionally at least it was core, the heart of the country which stood since long. The morale of the troops were low, confused. Not few of them were once inhabitants, this city they called home, the rest wished to. This was the city of dreamers, past tense, the place where the first immortal stood high. Where people could go to one day rise high. But that was now forgotten memory, the walls were boarded up or leveled down. To who would want to live here longer still? The man stood up, straightened his uniform, barked a order to his hounds, sat back down.

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The guilt from the things he ordered stayed strong, lingering past the smokescreen and white noise, his palms trembling as he plucked a thread, even his uniform bright had been worn. Even his once bright convictions worn dark. Was this war worth it? The crimes on people, people who he may have met on the street, once… or twice… in a past life long ago…

He had ordered gunfire onto them, masses which had no face nor name to speak, masses full of soldiers of another, he had done nothing wrong, yet why did it… his heart, why did it shake with the sun rays. He gives a sigh, a quiet, subdued one.

“Why is it so tiresome? Why do I…”

The sound of unrest and bullets sounds out, his thoughts and regrets would need to wait now…

“At arms men! It is time to go to war!”