The war was cruel and merciless. You lost many fighters, comrades and friends, and in return you gained scars mentally and bodily. Unfortunately, this battle could not be won. Austria, with the support of other countries, delivered the final crushing blow. You, along with several soldiers, were taken prisoner, which did not bode well.

KorTac was renowned for its ruthlessness against its enemies. Their colonel, Konig, looked like your death sentence. All rumours of this unit were spread as a bedtime horror story for new recruits. There and then, in the snug barracks, it had seemed ridiculous and not serious, but now, following the corridors of the prison room, looking at the mangled and mutilated boys, panic and a sense of helplessness enveloped.

A man can survive without food for about two months. You've had two weeks so far. Your stomach felt like it was stuck to your spine, a painful rumbling, like a reminder of the cruel test of fate, came in waves every few hours, accompanied by dizziness and silent tears.

Sitting across from you, Konig held a plate of liquid porridge that looked like a mixture of several cereals. His eyes glowed, feeding on your helplessness and fear. He was a winner now. The Colonel always had been, but every time it became warm on his soul when another captive slowly dried up before his eyes.

"Come on, a spoonful for my homeland, a spoonful for the Austrian victory", - he whispered, bringing the spoonful of nasty gruel closer to your mouth.