Ch. 1 - They Came...

Content Warning; Swearing throughout the story, Mild Discussion of Murder

↓ This is the Audio Companion for Chapter 1! ↓ 

As the desert stretches before me

As I see that watery veil shimmer

I look back and see that green tower

Stretching high above those who are trapped between the walls

I and my past is one I cannot know

And yet I am asked to fight for my home

But this home is one that has left me here

To ponder what homes lie beyond home

Oh, Isolation!

Why do you haunt me?

You, which has left me with scarce a memory of myself

Myself, which I can only chase after as I grow older

Yet in this, I am not alone

Nor will I ever be alone

As long as people exist

And as long as homes lie beyond my imagination

For home is no longer where I was born

For I was born on a planet

In a solar system

In a galaxy

In the universe

My home shall be where I am now, surrounded by those you left abandoned

Like myself

Oh, Isolation.

    Today was the first time Joshua had ever talked openly about killing someone. It wasn't out of the ordinary, far from it; being a soldier, it's more surprising that it took this long in his life to talk about it with anyone.

    The only other weird thing about it was the privacy of the conversation. It was deep in the night, in the confines of a poorly kept tent which could barely stop the sandy wind from getting into anyone's eyes. Fortunately, most people were asleep, and had their eyes covered. Everyone except Joshua.

    "'Ichael?" Joshua whispered, nudging the body next to his bunk. While there wasn't much room given between these makeshift sleeping quarters, it was hard to reach across the distance while lying down in a bed. If Joshua could help it, he would be pushing 'Ichael harder.

    'Ichael groaned quite audibly while shuffling awake. Whomever was sleeping above him tossed at the noise, and Joshua slunk back into his bunk slightly, just in case he looked over.

'Ichael turned on his side to look back. "Joshua? Why are you awake?"

"Can't sleep." Joshua tried to make his voice softer, but a gust of wind hitting the tent dissuaded him from doing that.

"Did you forget to cover your eyes or something?" 'Ichael responded, groggily.

    Joshua sighed. "No, I didn't."

    "Why'd you wake me up?"

    Joshua shifted himself closer to the edge of his bunk. The noise of the wind seemed to be picking up a bit. "I wanted to talk to someone. And I don't know where Bran is."

    "Oh, I know where his bunk is. I can show you," 'Ichael answered enthusiastically.

    "Wha-- hey-," Joshua hushed him. "'Ichael, no! I'm fine... just talking to you about this."

    'Ichael's face showed some confusion and concern. "You sure?"

    "I'm not going to walk over to his bunk to talk to him this late, I don't want to wake up anyone else," Joshua replied with some frustration.

    This wasn't the only reason, of course. The discussion at hand was much more complex than just talking about killing people. It was very personal. It involved talking about some things he didn't want to worry Brandenson with. At least, not yet.

    "What's going on, man?" asked 'Ichael. He pulled the cover over his head.

    Joshua paused. He figured it might be better to start off with smaller things.

    "Okay, so the clay village we're... invading."

    "Yeah?"

    "Don't you think we're over preparing a bit? I mean I'm not an officer, but I don't think we need absolutely everyone to cause some damage to a bunch of houses made of dirt."

"Well I dunno, Joshua. Those things are apparently really sturdy."

"You know what I mean."

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, I don't think we need it either, but... we also don't want them around anymore."

"But they're all that is around."

'Ichael, squinting from the wind, didn't reply for quite some time. He was probably expecting more to be said.

    "What do you mean by that?"

    "Dude, they're literally the only other thing besides Galvana," Joshua replied, exasperatedly. "If they're gone, what else are we gonna do?"

    "What do you mean?"

    Joshua felt he was lost in thought just trying to explain himself. What if I move back a bit?

    "Okay," Joshua sighed. "How long have you been a soldier again?"

    'Ichael readjusted the cover, thinking to himself. "Basically my entire life?"

    "And so have I," Joshua said, feeling he was beginning to cement his point. "This-- being a soldier-- this is our life."

    'Ichael didn't say anything as his eyes widened.

    "There is nothing else we know to do with our lives. If that place is gone, the village, what are we gonna do? Have a war in our home?"

    "What are you two talking about?", a voice from the right of Joshua chimed in. Brandenson was walking towards them, squeezing his way past the other bunks.

    "Did you just wake up?", asked 'Ichael.

    "No, I've actually been up since you two have been talking." From his tone, Brandenson sounded annoyed. "You guys really don't whisper as quietly as you think you do."

    Brandenson knelt between Joshua and 'Ichael.

    "But anyways, since I am awake, what are you talking about?"

    Joshua didn't want to talk. It was like his tongue was turning into acid in his throat; the feeling almost made him seize. As if having Brandenson expecting him to say something about it wasn't bad enough.

    Fuck it. I don't know how he'll react but I guess I'll find out.

    "What do you think is gonna happen after we're done with this invasion?", Joshua asked Bran.

    "I don't really know, Joshua." He seemed really nonchalant about everything. "But it sure seems to me it'd be better than feeling paranoid every day for something that might end up getting me and you killed. And you, 'Ichael," Brandenson added, gesturing to the other bunk. "And, honestly, you have me worried with just how much you care about this. Like," Bran moved his hand to his chest, his fingers outstretched on his clavicle, "I don't know about anyone else, but I don't want to keep doing this for the rest of my goddamn life!"

    Joshua looked away, towards his bedding.

    "Well maybe I do."

    Brandenson looked confused. "What the hell does that mean?"

    "Maybe I just want this. Maybe I want to be a soldier for the rest of my life."

    'Ichael, looking rather nervous, chimed in. "Joshua, what are you talking about?"

    "Oh, don't fucking act like you can judge me!", Joshua softly exclaimed.

Some of the bunks around them started shifting around, and the world became quiet. Not even the wind outside was loud enough to be heard anymore, if it was even there at all. And then everything settled.

Since the sudden outburst seemed to have made 'Ichael and Bran more attentive, Joshua eventually continued, "This has been. My. Entire. Life. I don't know how to do anything else with myself. I was born into this, raised into it, and matured by it. So what if I came out the other end liking it!? Is that my fault?!"

    'Ichael and Bran still didn't say anything. Joshua felt his eyes tearing up.

    "At least I have control over when I die! At least I know what I'm doing! I might not get to decide much else but at least it's easy! And you think it'd be like that if we weren't soldiers? Do you think we'd ever have a chance at any kind of life if we weren't living like this?"

    'Ichael seemed upset and concerned. Brandenson was irritated and tired.

    Joshua's eyes, while not overflowing, were still dripping with tears. A significant part of the sum of his life's experience shared in a way that was not what he had ever wanted it to be. But at least it was done. In all of the drowning silence of the world, it was done.

It's not like Joshua was lying. He was being as honest as he knew how to be. But he couldn't help but wish that he had never said this. If only a small part of himself.

    It was all true. All Joshua knew how to do was killing.

And Joshua liked the idea of killing people.

    Not in any sadistic or cruel sense, mind you. Although, you might think that anyways. Joshua wouldn't really blame you for that either. In fact, he might not even really want you to understand.

    He didn't need any ordinary person to. They never knew what it was like to live like this in the first place. Who were they to judge him?

    No, Joshua liked the idea of killing people purely for the control it could give him. He could decide the way someone else died, and to an extent, whether or not he died. And while Joshua was by no means the best killer, or the smartest, or the fastest, he was good at it. By his own judgement, at the very least. And that was all he really needed. Even if it could end up killing him, too.

    The act of killing was something no one could ever fully direct for him. He could be told who, or where, but never really how. Not unless someone else was actually willing to get their own hands dirty for once.

    "I don't know."

    Brandenson broke the silence, quieter than ever. His face was hovering over the side of Joshua's bed, as if he was ready to just drop his head and instantly fall asleep. He looked tired enough.

    "And I don't really care. I want something better than this for our lives."

    'Ichael nodded his head in small motions, his body drifting closer and closer to fully resting, before he finally let his head drop.

    "And, even if it wouldn't be easy, I can't help but think just about anything would be better than this." Bran wiped a tear off of Joshua's face with his thumb, and, with some effort, got himself up from kneeling.

    "Just... get some sleep. Being drowsy in a battlefield would probably be more disappointing than fighting a clay village, right?" Brandenson walked back towards his bunk.

    Feeling rather deflated, Joshua laid on his back, staring at the bottom of the steel bunk above him. He could see that whoever was resting above him was making it bend down and up with their breathing. The rhythm was all he could focus on. All he wanted to focus on, now that the wind wasn't there to keep his mind busy.

    Oh well. If I'm tired tomorrow, maybe that'll make things interesting.

    Trenches had been lined out a good 10 km away from the village, and about 300 meters from the tents. They'd all been built yesterday, but with the effort put into them, the construction was sturdy and rather well kept, despite it's function only lasting for, at most, a day.

    Not very practical.

    Everyone was bringing all kinds of things over to the trenches; boxes of ammunition, rations, binoculars and even articles of clothes for commanding officers. Dune cars were driving around so much to escort people that the engines drowned out any coherent conversations outside of the trenches, not that much talking was happening between most people. The occasional orders had to be shouted out, and even then it was difficult to make out much. It put everyone on edge, for the rest of the first half of today.

    Nothing in regards to their offensive efforts progressed until much later, when night fell all over again.

    The world was quiet. The only source of noise was from the occasional mutterings between other soldiers, perched inside of the trenches looking towards the faint light of the village, so far past the horizon.

    'Ichael was probably far behind Joshua, maybe with Brandenson. Meanwhile, he was right at the front line, all by himself. Typically, other soldiers kept their distance from Joshua all the time, but it was much more pronounced now, since there weren't any strict orders of placement; the smallest gap between Joshua and anyone else was eight feet down the trench.

    It was fine. There's plenty of reasons he doesn't talk to anyone else.

    "Miss the stars?"

    Brandenson's voice came from behind. Joshua turned to see he was walking over the trenches to jump down in.

    "What are you doing here?", Joshua asked, a bit faintly, while turning back to the village.

    "I'm done with checking pouches right now," Bran retorted, breathlessly.

    While Bran settled in, anyone else relatively close by opened up the distance more than it already was. As far as Joshua was concerned, the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving the light, himself and Bran.

    Not even the wind broke the silence between the both of them.

    "I meant what I said last night," Bran stated simply.

    The words seemed to echo in Joshua's head for a moment before he replied.

    "Don't you think it's a bit unrealistic to think things would just go that well if we tried living a different life?"

    "J, I could ask you the same thing."

    Joshua turned to glance at Bran.

    "We aren't exactly welcome here, either," he added, while gesturing broadly around the trenches.

Joshua frowned and turned back to the light. "We know what to expect here. It's... easier."

Joshua could feel Bran getting upset. "Is that really all you care about? What's easier?"

"Why else do you think I mention it so much?"

"To get under my skin."

Joshua chuckled.

"I'll give you credit, too; It pisses me off."

Joshua ducked his head down towards the lip of the trench, sighing.

"Like... You don't know how long Galvana will last. Hell, I don't know. No one does. We wouldn't have much of a future here. And sure, we wouldn't have much of one anywhere else either, but... wouldn't you like to die happy rather than die like this?"

Joshua felt a bit infuriated by his tone. It was like he was having no issues with being as confident in this utopian vision of their lives he talked about, a vision he couldn't stand taking seriously.

    "I'm already happy."

    "No you're not."

    Bran was quick to respond, and Joshua was stunned. Again, with that damn confidence.

    Joshua turned back to face Bran and raised his voice.

    "Okay, fine! Yes, of course I would want that! I Want to be happy! I said it! But I've wanted to be happy all my life! And it's never happened! Nothing's changed in 20 years, nothing's gonna change just cause you or I want it to. Sorry that I learned that the hard way. Sorry that my view of our lives is more realistic than thinking we can just try and everything will be okay."

    Tears were beginning to well up in Joshua's eyes as he finished speaking. Bran looked back at him, with the same tired face he has whenever he feels he should just let someone else talk over him. Joshua turned back and rested his arms on the trench again, trying to keep the tears from leaving his eyes.

    "That's not realism, Joshua."

    Bran leaned over to him and wiped a tear off.

    "That's pessimism."

    The marching had begun, with Joshua right at the front, like a pawn in chess surrounded by other, bigger pawns. 'Ichael ended up right behind him, but there wasn't much good in exchanging words while they were all being so closely watched by the officers, the Marshall, and the General, all driving around in their cars parallel to the army. They'd been walking for about 15 minutes, and only now had they really been close enough for Joshua to say they were actually ready to attack the village.

    The car carrying the General pulled up in front of everyone, and the march came to a halt. As he stepped out into the sand for the first time today, Joshua was constantly being blinded by his medals and coat buttons shinning in brief, precise bursts from the lights of the other cars.

    "MEN!", he roared. "Tonight, you will fulfill your promise to your families back home to keep them safe."

    Joshua couldn't help but stare blankly ahead at the old man giving his speech. He was walking around the front of everyone, pacing back and forth without really lifting his feet up, making a distinct line in the sand. It was orderly, seemingly unwavering. Perfectly straight.

    Rehearsed. Like everything was.

    "Tonight, you will burn away the scourge of rot festering at the foot of our world! You will put an end to this cesspit of depravity, of degeneracy, thievery, and outlandish disgrace to the authority of Galvana! And if we have to..."

    The general stepped away from the sand, and hopped up onto the side step of the car behind him.

    "We will raze them all to the ground!!"

    A cacophony of disjointed cheers erupted with the voices of the few thousand men standing behind Joshua, and the sounds of guns shifting as they were raised up in the air enthusiastically. While Joshua didn't join the cheers, he did join everyone else with his gun in the air. Just to blend in.

    I'm not exhausting my lungs for this.

    The cars all moved to the sides again, and every soldier started marching.

    The vista had gone almost completely dark now, the only lights left coming from headlights, and their destination. It was hard to tell how close together everyone was, but Joshua could only assume that everyone was staying their path enough to satisfy anyone watching them. Lasted long enough for them to seriously close the distance to the village.

    Clear sight of the buildings had been established, and now everyone started running and yelling. Joshua managed to gain quite a significant lead on everyone else around him as they made their way, but it didn't last long. At least he still managed to keep his pace in spite of everyone else behind him getting closer and closer.

    In the distance, people could be seen outside of their homes, and they could obviously hear everything, and see lights approaching. Even more shouting filled the otherwise dead still air. The distance closed even more, almost to the point where shooting could actually begin.

    Joshua started raising his gun.

    And then he heard an incredibly loud thrumming.

A thrumming so strong that it drowned out every other noise in the world.

    Joshua then stopped dead in his tracks as an overpowering light emerged through the sky above him. It was as if everything in the world paused.

    Something was falling from the sky directly above all of them. Something bright, something that... looked like a flowing stream of water. And it was coming closer, very fast.

    Joshua fell to the ground trying to step backwards, as everyone else ahead of him was running back. Joshua couldn't tell if they were screaming, but he could clearly see their faces. Everyone looked horrified, like an enormous group of children - a very insignificant, yet large group of children -  that were just told they're getting detention.

    The veil fell on top of the village, slowly and gently moving in such a way as to envelope it with enough space left to keep everything else untouched, like a dome. It shimmered and continued to move in place, like the surface of a busy body of water in slow motion.

    The thrumming had become quiet, and people's voices could be heard again. Plenty of men were still shouting curses watching the veil move. While Joshua got up and dusted himself off, someone grabbed his shoulder. Bran, alongside 'Ichael, found him, and were trying to talk to him. But Joshua still couldn't hear their voices.

    He turned back to look at the veil, noticing that the officers, the General, and the Marshall were ahead of everyone, trying to bark orders to get everyone to calm down. But it didn't work. They were talking to deer caught in one, omnipresent headlight.

    A headlight, Joshua could now see, that stretched all the way up into the sky. He could also see an object - some kind of dark, awe inspiring obelisk shape - attached to the veil. Lights like the ones from a skyscraper lined it sparsely. If the light from the veil was not there, Joshua would likely have assumed he was looking at stars.

But the world eventually quieted down, and all anyone seemed capable of doing in the moment was be mesmerized by it all. Even the officers, the General, and the Marshall stood in silence next to their cars.

It was enough to make you forget you were alive.