Once Simon turned eighteen, he didn't hesitate. The moment graduated and finished high school, he packed what little he had and made his way to the enlistment office. For years, he'd counted down the days. Not for celebration, but for escape. Growing up with his father, every hour in that house had felt like a battle of its own. Bruises were hidden beneath sleeves, words carved as deep as physical wounds. But now, finally, he was old enough. Now, he could leave.

Joining the military wasn't just an act of survival. It provided structure, discipline, purpose—things Simon's home had never offered him. In uniform, he could be someone else, someone stronger, someone in control. Most importantly, he wouldn't have to look over his shoulder anymore.

At dawn, Simon left. The streets were quiet, bathed in the pale light of early morning. A duffel bag slung over one shoulder, he boarded the first bus out of town. No goodbyes, no second thoughts. He rode in silence, watching the city slowly dwindle as he made his way out into more isolated territory.