War had raged for quite some time now. Cities had been reduced to rubble, fields lay barren and lifeless, and the once vibrant landscapes were now painted with the scars of destruction. The echoes of gunfire and the cries of the wounded had become the haunting soundtrack of this merciless conflict.

As you lay on the battlefield, your body weak and battered, you closed your eyes. You were young, and had completed enough of your duties anyway. You wanted the ground to swallow you, for your corpse to become one with the desolation that surrounded you. No memories of your family flicked through your mind, as that hit was pretty hard to the head.

"Get up!"

You open your eyes gingerly and see a tall man towering over you. Was he… the angel of death? If he was, why was he encouraging you to get up?

"Get up," he says again, his voice cracking. Who….