"The brutality of warfare takes a great toll on one's mental health, especially when being forcefully recruited. This sorrow tale, though to be from ages of the past, has become increasingly prevalent within the impoverished nations of the Terran Bubble. Once upon a time, not so long ago, a civil war broke out within a matter of days, as thousands were stripped of their homes and were forced to serve under whichever side they found themselves on. One of the numerous victims was known as Wytrov August Lycon, a man forever changed by the conflict..."
Heavy rain poured from the sky, as Wytrov mindlessly stared at the sky from one of the tiny windows on his landing craft. Fear was the only emotion that pervaded his mind. Nothing but fear. Not even the smallest positive thought stumbled across his mind. Strolling, or rather, rushing, into direct combat with no prior training is an extremely stressful experience. The serene force of silence permeated the craft for hours, only to be ruined by sudden artillery fire. Screams of pure terror would swiftly flood the communication systems of the craft, as countless innocent, unwilling soldiers were shot out of the skies. This was not the truly horrifying part, however, as the unfortunate survivors would spend their last moments in agony, many of whom experienced it for hours until death would take care of them. The fear of Wytrov increased more than tenfold, descending into panic in a matter of seconds. By sheer luck, it seems that his craft was one of the only ones that hadn't been hit, not yet...
Suddenly, a bright light flashed in front of him, as the deafening boom of the explosion in front of him reached his ears. In a matter of moments, more than half of his craft would be torn apart by artillery fire. However, the ship crashed into the woodlands, with Wytrov remaining as the single survivor. Somehow, the soldier wasn't injured at all, at least physically. One would argue that he was lucky to survive, yet a quick death sounds far more pleasant than a bloody battlefield. Not knowing what to do, he quickly fled into the dark forest of pines. To Wytrov's horror, he observed dozens of explosions in the skies of the grasslands in front of him.