The second explosion didn't sound like the first.
It was closer.
Too close.
Then a red mist appeared next to me. Krans...? Is—screaming I can't hear it but I see him, my ears are ringing.
The trench shook violently, dirt collapsing inward as soldiers ducked and shouted over each other.
Another red mist appeared, then I returned to my senses.
"Return fire!"
"Where are they?!"
"I can't see—!"
The boy pressed himself against the trench wall, gripping his rifle so tightly his fingers ached. Smoke swallowed the horizon, turning everything into shifting gray.
Krans was beside him, peeking just enough to look over the edge.
"Artillery first," Krans muttered. "They're softening us up."
"I know."
Another explosion—this time behind them.
The boy flinched.
"That's not normal," he said.
Krans frowned. "Yeah… they're hitting both sides."
A whistle shrieked overhead.
"DOWN!"
They dropped.
The blast slammed into the trench, throwing dirt, wood, and something heavier across their backs. For a moment, the boy couldn't hear anything but a high ringing sound.
Then the screams came back.
Loud.
Too loud.
"Get up!" Krans grabbed his shoulder, shaking him. "We're going to get buried!"
The boy pushed himself up, coughing through the dust.
Shapes moved around him—soldiers scrambling, some dragging others, some not moving at all.
Then—
"Form the line! FORM THE LINE!"
The voice cut through the chaos.
The commander.
The boy turned.
The man stood above part of the trench, exposed, waving his arm wildly like he was trying to control a storm.
"Return fire!" the commander shouted again. "Hold your positions!"
Krans stared at him like he couldn't believe it.
"He's out in the open…" Krans said.
"He's going to get shot," the boy replied.
"He's going to get us shot."
Gunfire erupted.
Sharp. Fast. Relentless.
Not scattered—focused.
"They're already in range!" someone yelled.
"They're pushing forward!"
The boy risked a glance over the trench.
For a split second, he saw them.
Dark shapes moving through the smoke.
Too fast.
Then one of them raised a hand—
And something twisted in the air.
The boy's vision warped, like heat bending light, and the ground a few meters ahead exploded without warning.
Not artillery.
Something else.
He dropped back down immediately.
"…Did you see that?" he asked.
Krans didn't answer right away.
"…Yeah," Krans said quietly. "I saw it."
More explosions followed—but not all of them sounded the same anymore.
Some were deeper.
Sharper.
Wrong.
"RETURN FIRE!" the commander screamed again. "DON'T BREAK FORMATION!"
"No formation?!" Krans snapped. "We can't even see them!"
A soldier nearby tried to climb up to shoot—
He didn't make it.
A shot cracked, and he dropped instantly, lifeless before he even hit the ground.
The boy's chest tightened.
"They're picking us off…"
"They have a clear view," Krans said. "And we don't."
Another order came.
"Advance!"
The boy froze.
Krans blinked. "What?"
"Advance! Push forward and engage!" the commander shouted, his voice shaking but loud.
"That's suicide," someone said.
"No cover—!"
"We'll get wiped—!"
"ADVANCE!" the commander repeated.
No one moved.
For a second, everything hung in place—the fear, the noise, the disbelief.
Then—
A few soldiers climbed out.
Then more.
Because orders were orders.
Krans looked at the boy.
"…We don't have a choice."
The boy swallowed hard.
"I know."
They climbed out.
The moment his boots hit open ground, the world changed.
There was no trench. No protection.
Just noise.
Gunfire tore through the air. Dirt kicked up around them as bullets struck the ground faster than he could process.
"MOVE!" Krans shouted.
They ran.
Not in formation.
Not in order.
Just running.
A man beside the boy spun and dropped mid-step.
Another screamed as something unseen hit him, throwing him backward unnaturally.
The boy didn't look.
He couldn't.
Ahead, the smoke shifted again—
And he saw it clearly this time.
A figure standing still while everything else moved.
Calm.
Untouched.
The air around them distorted, like reality itself didn't want to stay steady.
The boy's breath caught.
"…Krans…"
"I see it."
The figure raised their hand again.
"No—"
The world erupted.
The blast hit their line directly, throwing bodies, dirt, and sound into chaos.
The boy was slammed to the ground, his vision flashing white.
For a moment, there was nothing.
No sound.
No movement.
Just emptiness.
Then—
"GET UP!"
Krans's voice.
Distant, but real.
The boy forced his eyes open.
Everything hurt.
Smoke filled his lungs as he pushed himself up, barely able to stand.
Around them—
The line was gone.
Broken.
Scattered.
"…This is wrong," Krans said, breathing hard. "This is completely wrong."
The boy looked back toward the trench.
It was barely visible now.
And still—
The commander's voice echoed behind them.
Still shouting.
Still giving orders.
Still not understanding.
The boy turned forward again.
For the first time since the battle started—
he wasn't thinking about winning.
Just surviving.
And something in him realized:
They were not going to win this.