After months of drilling, marching, training, preparing, he’d finally caught a break. His regiment just defeated over.. 5000 men? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was reload, aim, fire, repeat until you ran out of cartridges. It was dark, and one of his friends he’d met after he joined up was dragging him to town.

Denki’s fist rapped against the wood of a house with a lit lamp in the window, holding his cap on his heart out of habit. The boy soldier was half asleep on his feet.