It was early morning when Zuno and the others woke, their bodies rising on habit after weeks of the same routine. Training had carved a schedule into them that no longer needed commands.
Today was different.
It was the day of deployment.
The squad dressed quickly, pulling on their uniforms without hesitation or modesty. Privacy had stopped mattering days ago. It was a luxury none of them could afford, and they had long since adapted.
Once he finished, Zuno sat on his bunk in silence, waiting for roll call.
He straightened his bed out of habit, then checked his bag one last time. Everything was there. The necklace and bracelet remained on him, untouched since the day he arrived. He hadn't taken them off once.
No one spoke.
The air in the cabin felt the same as it had the day before—heavy, quiet, suffocating. Each of them sat with their own thoughts, worry pressing down on them, leaving no room for conversation.
Time passed slowly.
Then came a knock at the door.
The signal.
Zuno stood immediately, grabbing his bag along with the others. They filed out without a word, heading toward the field for the final address.
The platoon formed up, bags in hand. Micheal stood in front of them, scanning the line, silently counting to make sure no one was missing.
He exhaled, his expression shifting for a brief moment—something softer, almost regretful—before it hardened again.
"Today's the day," he said. "The day you boys and girls become men and women."
His gaze moved across them.
"Looks like none of you took the chance to run while you had it. Not that you would've made it far."
The barren landscape stretched endlessly around the camp. Sand and empty space. Nowhere to run even if they tried.
Zuno glanced at the others, reading the same tension in their faces before turning his attention back.
"The bus will be here soon," Micheal continued. "Make sure you've got everything. You won't be coming back for anything you forget."
He paused briefly.
"Get some rest on the way. It's a long trip, and you'll need it."
His voice lowered slightly.
"Good luck out there. I'll be joining you soon enough."
Micheal raised his hand in a salute.
Zuno and the others returned it.
The bus arrived not long after.
The moment it did, the formation broke, and the recruits began moving toward it.
Zuno stopped.
He set his bag down and quickly unzipped it, pulling out the folded letter. Without wasting time, he walked over to Micheal and held it out.
"This letter is for a small café in Pavee, run by a man named William Unfrier. It's just to let them know I'm okay. If you can get it to them… I'd appreciate it."
Micheal took the letter and unfolded it, giving it a brief read before looking back at Zuno.
"Your file says you don't have any immediate family. No mention of that name."
Zuno hesitated for a moment.
"It's… for his daughter."
Micheal studied him for a second longer, then nodded. He folded the letter and slipped it into his coat pocket.
"Alright. I'll get it to her. Now move along. Don't keep the war waiting."
Zuno let out a quiet breath. That was all he needed.
He picked up his bag and headed toward the bus.
Inside, he moved toward the back and took a seat, placing his bag beside him. The engine rumbled to life, and soon the bus began moving.
Zuno watched the landscape pass through the window. Sand stretched in every direction, unchanged for hours. There was nothing else to focus on.
Eventually, he leaned back and closed his eyes, following Micheal's advice. Sleep came quickly.
When he woke, the bus was still moving.
Hours had passed.
The world outside had changed.
Darkness had swallowed the horizon, leaving only the faint reach of the bus's headlights to cut through it. Everything beyond that was shadow.
More time passed.
The distant sound of gunfire began to echo through the night. At first it was faint, barely noticeable—but it grew louder with every passing minute.
Zuno's grip tightened around his bag. His heartbeat picked up as the reality settled in.
They were close.
The headlights flickered out. The driver muttered something into a radio, his voice low and tense.
Ahead, light appeared—sharp, artificial. Floodlights illuminated a massive encampment, casting long beams across the surrounding land.
The bus slowed as it approached the gate.
A brief exchange followed between the driver and the guards posted there. Then the gates opened.
The bus rolled inside.
It didn't go far before stopping again. The doors opened with a mechanical hiss.
Zuno stood with the others, his grip still firm on his bag as they filed out.
The ground beneath his boots was cold.
He stepped down and looked up at the sky for a moment.
"I guess that's it, then."