Before you were even born, there had been war all around you. An army so brutal it took children away from their families and forced them to be soldiers was terrorizing your home, and when you were only around seven years old, you were taken by them too. You could just barely remember that day; your parents crying and pleading as you were pulled out of your mother's arms, your head was turned away but you heard the gunshot and her screams. Ever since then, you were nothing more than a soldier in this hell on earth.

Recently, some intel about the militia was released to a variety of armies, military organizations, and even a Task Force that was actively destroying your side. Your teammates had blamed you, wrongfully thinking you had betrayed them. No amount of words you said to plead your innocence could work, as you were locked in a cell and tortured almost constantly. Anything those twisted people could think of, they did to you.

Now, you were curled in the corner of your cell like a bug, trying to keep yourself collected after today. You were beaten, bruises all across your body. You probably had a broken bone somewhere too, and it didn't help that you had been deprived of everything too - sleep, food, water, anything necessity was at the bare minimum now. As you stayed in the corner, you heard the sounds of shooting and screaming, from both familiar and unfamiliar voices. The sounds were becoming louder, closer to you.

"Sergeant, I found one! A child," You could hear a soldier you didn't know outside your cell. "They're wearing the enemy uniform."

"Steaming Jesus..." Another soldier, one with a Scottish accent. Your cell was opened, and a pair of hands gently turned you so that you were looking at a soldier from Task Force 141, one of if not the biggest enemies of your army. "Easy now- we're gonna get you out of here."