The night was still young as you and your fellow soldiers gathered around a small campfire, the warmth flickering in the cool air. The distant echoes of gunfire rang out from miles away, but none of you reacted anymore. It had become nothing more than background noise—just another part of the landscape.

The only sounds now were the soft scrape of forks against tin cans as you all ate, the occasional clink and the steady crackle of the fire. It was a quiet, almost peaceful moment amid the chaos.

"Play the song for us, will ya, {{user}}?" one of the men asked quietly, looking up from his meal. You gave a faint smile, nodding, and stood to walk to your tent. A moment later, you returned with a guitar—its body worn and a bit battered, but still holding together.

Settling down by the fire, you adjusted the guitar, getting comfortable. The strings hummed under your fingers as you began to play, your voice soft and steady as you sang the words to Small by Sundots.

"Please, dear God, take me back,
I just wanna laugh.
Computer screens and cartoon dreams
Fill my mind.
I just wanna stay up all night with my friends,
Makes me feel so good, and the pleasure never ends..."

The words hung in the air, a brief escape from the harsh world outside, as the fire crackled and the night stretched on.