Hell wasn't the bombs that rained on earth for days.
It was living after them.
Cities vanished overnight. What survived burned for weeks. By the third year, the name of the war had lost its meaning. "World War Three" sounded like history, not something still happening.
Half the world was already gone.
Atomic bombs erased half the world. The rest kept fighting out of habit more than hope. No one talked about winning anymore. Borders were lines that didn't hold. Flags meant less every year.
The war wasn't loud now. It was exhausted.
Kim Minhwa stood with his shoulder against the wall, gun heavy in his hands.
"Minhwa..." his friend, Lee Sehun said. His voice was hoarse. "They're closing in."
Gunfire burst out ahead of them.
Lee Sehun leaned out first and fired. The shots were loud and piercing. Minhwa followed a second later, squeezing the trigger because his hands moved when they were told to.
Bullets slammed into the wall. Something sharp cut his cheek. He didn't wipe it.
"Reload! Reload!" Lee Sehun shouted, fumbling.
A body dropped somewhere in front of them. Minhwa didn't see where it fell. He only heard the sound it made when it hit the ground. His friend laughed. It was short and wrong. "Did you see that?" he said. "I...I got him."
Another round cracked past them. His friend went quiet.
"Move," the captain said. Minhwa stepped forward with the others. "Hold position."
They stopped. Someone fired. Then more shots followed. Minhwa raised his gun and fired when the captain signaled. He didn't check where the bullets landed.
"Reload."
Minhwa reloaded. His hands moved on their own. The captain kept talking, steady, repeating the same commands in different words. It had been like this for years. Three years to be exact.
The thought came without anger.
Was this all worth it?
A blast knocked him off balance. He fell hard, his hands sinking into mud soaked darker than rainwater. He pushed himself up, chest heaving, ears ringing.
"Minhwa…"
He turned.
Lee Sehun was on the ground, half-hidden behind broken concrete. One hand was pressed to his stomach. Blood leaked through his fingers, dark and steady.
"Sehun!" Minhwa shouted.
He took a step forward.
"No," Sehun said quickly. His voice cracked. "Don't. Don't come."
Another shot snapped overhead. Dirt sprayed near Minhwa's boots. He stopped.
Sehun's breathing was uneven. His face had gone pale beneath the grime, eyes unfocused, like he was already somewhere else.
"Are you okay?" Minhwa yelled, though the question felt stupid the moment it left his mouth.
Sehun didn't answer.
He looked at Minhwa, really looked at him, and then he smiled. It wasn't relief. Nor was it reassurance.
"I'm tired," Sehun said. Minhwa shook his head. "Just...just hold on." Sehun's hands were shaking as he lifted his rifle.
"Sehun?" he said. The rifle turned inward.
"Wait-"
Bang!
The shot cracked. Sehun's body jerked once, then went still. He fell forward into the dirt.
Minhwa didn't move.
The noise around him dulled, like someone had pressed a hand over his ears. Blood spread slowly beneath Sehun's chest, soaking into the ground.
Something in Minhwa split open. It was quieter than expected. His childhood best friend just killed himself. If there was a single string holding him together, then that string just snapped.
Gunfire snapped him back.
"CONTACT LEFT!" someone screamed.
Minhwa's hands moved on instinct. He grabbed his rifle, aimed across the field, and fired. The recoil jolted his arms. He saw a figure drop on the other side.
There was no satisfaction. Not even relief. Just a sick, empty pull in his chest. A shadow flickered in his peripheral vision.
"GRENADE!"
Minhwa turned just in time to see it land near his feet.
His body reacted before his mind did. He rolled hard to the side, ribs slamming into the ground. The explosion thundered behind him. Heat rushed past his back. Something warm splattered against his neck. He scrambled up, heart hammering, and looked back.
The soldier who had been behind him, laughing just a few hours earlier, was gone. Not dead. Simply Gone. Pieces scattered across the dirt, his uniform shredded, even his face was unrecognizable.
Minhwa's stomach twisted. He gagged but nothing came up. His hands shook so badly he nearly dropped his rifle.
How many?
How many bodies could one mind hold before it broke?
He stumbled forward, boots slipping in mud and blood, trying not to look at the ground too long. If he stopped moving, he knew he wouldn't start again.
Another explosion rocked the field..
SuA, his little sister, crossed his mind without warning. Not clearly, just the idea of her. She would be praying for her older brother to return safely. Waiting in the survivor camp, looking at the moon and calculating its cycle.
"I'll return after three whole moons", he promised her before leaving. The thought stayed longer than the others. It settled in his chest, heavy but steady.
She was waiting. She had to be.
"I have to survive," he muttered, the words torn from his chest.
For her.
He adjusted his grip on the gun and moved when the line moved. Something slammed into his side and the ground rushed up to meet him.
His rifle slipped from his hands as he hit the dirt, shoulder injured on impact. The air tore out of his lungs. He tried to inhale and couldn't. Someone crashed down on him, pinning him there. His back scraped against stone. Something hard pressed against his cheek.
A gun.
He twisted instinctively, the barrel grazing past his face as it went off. The sound burst too close, too loud. His ears rang. He shoved upward, hands slipping against fabric and mud, felt a blow glance off his jaw and sparks filled his vision.
He lunged forward without thinking. Their helmets collided with a dull crack that rattled his teeth. The pressure on his chest eased just enough for him to move. Dirt filled his mouth. He tasted blood and didn't know whose it was.
The other soldier tried to rise.
Minhwa's hand closed around a piece of broken concrete. He brought it down. The body jerked. He hit again, harder, until there was no resistance left beneath him. Only then did he stop.
He stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed to the ground, breathing unevenly.
He was still alive. Barely, but still alive. The thought flickered weakly.
He pushed himself up, legs unsteady. The noise around him blurred. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and lifted his head.
Something was falling.
"...?"
A dark shape, far above, cutting straight down through the sky.
For a second, he didn't understand.
Then he did.
The light swallowed everything.
Boom-!