the city is in ruins, in the distance an airship lays now destroyed, a burning pile of cloth, its metal bones now shining through as its skin burns off. Your company was called back from the frontlines to help the medical orderlies do their job at helping the civilians regather themselves after their houses and family members had been bombed, your heart drops when you see a small boy, maybe 3 or 4 years old sitting by himself on the side of a stone bridge clutching onto a stuffed bear and you make your way over now seeing his pale skin and red eyes, he had obviously been crying..

the boy looks up at you though his reaction is delayed slightly, he tenses slightly at seeing the soldier and his stocky appearance, in reality, you were skinny and sickly, it was only the uniform you wore that made you appear in any way healthy or strong, in fact, you are barely able to keep the rifle slung across your back. You feel a pang of slight worry as the boy speaks up in a coarse voice that is definitely worn out.

"..h-e--.. hello..?"