Prologue — The Soldier's Prayer
The sandstorm howled across the Syrian desert, painting the horizon in blood and dust. Captain Daniel Reyes crouched behind the wreckage of an overturned Humvee, his rifle slick with sweat and the blood of his men. The radio crackled, the voice of command distant, broken by gunfire.
"Eagle-3, this is command — fall back to—"
Static. Silence.
Daniel looked at the rosary tangled around his wrist — his mother's gift, its wooden beads darkened by grime and years of war. The last of his squad lay beside him, eyes open to a heaven they would never see. Mortar fire thundered closer.
He dropped his weapon. The battle was lost.
"Lord," he whispered, voice trembling as he pressed the crucifix to his lips. "Forgive me. For every life I've taken. For the orders I obeyed… and the faith I've doubted. I've fought in deserts where You once walked, and I've seen men kill in Your name."
He closed his eyes. The sound of gunfire faded, replaced by the low hum of wind and distant bells — impossible, in the middle of a warzone.
"If there's another chance," Daniel prayed, "let me fight for something pure. Let me build, not destroy. Let me serve You again."
The world vanished in white light.