1 Soil Made for One

The mist was foggy as a shadowy black tar cloud streamed across the trenches as if a volcano has just erupted. Something you wouldn't have expected. But it is roaring from the left, and the shrieking of the right, with me in the middle. Terror and agony heard from a mile away, and a volume-splitting erosion from my deaf ear. The sounds got deeper and deeper coughing my way through the lines to regaining an advantageous position on the enemy front.

Swooping left and right with such wiggle room I had seen my life flash before my eyes. These same eyes that saw worse than a genocide. God may the heavens push me through the next half mile. So my feet picked up heavier and heavier, with little of known breathe in my system. This intoxicating fume had run me over as if a sandstorm had hit. Never the more I had fallen into the mud face first. I told myself "This is where I die" continuously as the mud was burning my face. You could taste the heat induction from the other soldier's ammunition. Normally not opposed but it had a more searing approach.

Then, the wind picked up, the rain got heavier, and the gunfire stopped surrendering. This was about to go to absolute hell on Earth. The firing sounds and the ramping up of plasma cannons had me begging for the cooked mud. I was sneaking through the thin crowd passed the trenches but eventually, reality had caught up to me. Prone I was on the ground, making my way, I was grabbed. I turned around to see a different sector captain staring me down as if I were just about to kill him. But he seemed so strict and so firm his death stare mortified me. His eyes matched mine and chased it around before launching me back through the openings of the trench. My eyesight had dimmed but my vision was never more clear. He had inspired me with great fear. A wonderful tactic he was known for had actually worked on me. He grabbed my sides pivoting me towards the enemy lines which I had no sight of. He told me to deal with 'Blind Firing', though I was virtually noticeable that way. What wouldn't they expect? If I fired a single shot it will come right back at me.

Paranoid and frightened I add aimed my gun straightforward as time slowed. I felt all that was around me was aiming at me back. But my opportunity was now to fire, or it'd be my grave. I reluctantly pulled the trigger and ducked. As usual, not a single bullet came flying over my head. I was certain they had the thermal technology to bypass this dark pale night smog. The commander had whispered to me building unrespectable loudness "Now you listen here, I am not sure what you are trying to do out here, but this world is waiting for you. You do what I say now, and I say you physically stand up for yourself and fire more than one inaccurate f*cking shot! You hear me maggot, you f*cking here me!"

I was paralyzed. My world had felt empty. I should've never joined the Shan Shun Army Corps. I reflected over every decision I made over my whole life within a single second, escaping reality. My brain was on much simpler things such as working on the war with the children, taking them to their dates, and being there for their graduation. The commander back-handed as hard as he could which woke me from my passed shaking the memories out the other ear. I nodded at him unpacking the thermal fuses and rifle.

I reached towards my back pocket to pick out the right fuse type. This fuse would allow me to see the heat signatures off the infantry around the area. Perfect and universally a dream to the ones they are held by. I couldn't feel any in the back. Then it came to why I had left my post. I told him knowing that I was lying to show I had misplaced my grenade pouch. He looked at me, and without averting his eyes away from pulls the bites the fuse, pulled the pick, and chucked it powerfully. I was astonished and a no good enlist. Knowingly the grenades were in the previous post. The stare wouldn't stop penetrating me. The feeling was almost uncontrollable. I had stood up stationing myself a good perching zone with only a heads-reach of protection flipped the scope on the rifle scanning for the heat signatures. The commander was some genius, estimating the trajectory and distance of about anything.

The scanner read no life in the area. It was oddly taboo for him to miss his shot. But not good on my side. The artillery was still strong as almost cigarette ashes feel from the sky pounding the wet marshy field. My impulses were tingling as I took my shot anyway. Aiming to the left I saw a silhouette of a lot up man. This was my opportunity, yet my greatest mistake. I charged up the rifle, cranking it creating the blinding light. Upon my fire the enemy whipped out the worst piece of technology. It was a Jiko hosho-gata haiki mira (self-assured destructive mirror). A moment no later my inability to respond led to my death.

"You're not dead, Mr. Monbaratu."

No, I died right there physically. What's left of this machine is me.

"Calm calm Mr. Baratu, you'll be alright."

How can you stick with this simulation of yours. I'm not your toy. I'm private property in the graveyard.

"Neurologically you seem fine, sir. With all respect, you have a really stable cortex. Just ease on this subject. You've alive for years now."

I had woken up? My life hadn't seen a pixel of my accomplice. I've not recognized anything more than a black screen. I barely know this woman, and I barely know my origins. This memory is the only thing that stayed when my brain shut down. Does this mean I'm a computer.. or in a simulation of one? I had so many questions that it had seemed nearly fake to have her answer me back. These words are my afterlife, for I have died writing them.