War, war is hell. People have been saying this through many generations but the only ones who know the real look of it are the ones who fought there. Atlas was only 18 when the forms came in, he should've been scared but like many others he thought of it as an opportunity to look cool.
The drafting was quick, he was on a train to New Marilyn where he would spend the next few weeks training. It was the year 1562 on their world Valkyr, people knew where you were from by your eye color alone.
If you were from the northern continent then you either had blond, red, or black hair and if you were from the southern continent then you had brown or black hair. The northerners also had a different eye color, their eyes were green, yellow, orange, or red and southerners had purple, grey, brown, or blue eyes.
These people were always at each other's throats since they both believed they were from a superior race, color of skin and even the way your body was shaped didn't matter to them. What mattered to them was the color of your eyes.
Atlas' parents were from both the south and north, his father was in the southern continent called Gyrun and his mother was from the north was called Fendel. He had gained the looks of his father with his purple eyes and brown hair but he had the lighter skin color of his mother.
Atlas had two younger brothers who were twins and an older sister, the brothers were only 11 and the only way to tell them apart were their eyes. Felix's left eye was red and his right was blue while Anthony's left eye was brown and the right was yellow.
The twins were both the same height and had the same blond hair, from behind you would think that you might be seeing doubles until they turned around.
Atlas' sister Noelle was 22, she was working at the family farm with her husband Charles. Noelle had rosy red hair and green eyes like his mother.
Atlas's mother and father were living in a small town named after their founder Kingston, they lived on a large farm with plenty of crops to go around for the townsfolk.
But because of Atlas' looks people would treat him and his father poorly for not being like them, they could tolerate the twins and Noelle only because of the fact their northern half was visible.
"Hey do you see that kid over there, isn't he from Gyrun?" A man around the same age as Atlas asked his friend.
"I don't know, I thought only people born from Fendel were allowed to be drafted" The other man said back, Atlas looked down to the ground as he continued to hear the whispers on the train.
'I can hear you all' He thought to himself, he was used to the constant bickering others had made about his looks. Atlas loved Fendel and it's people, as he shopped in his town he could hear the children playing in the playground back at home.
Everything here was peaceful and everyone seemed to get along, well when he wasn't there at least. The train whistled and a woman came to the front of the cart.
"Everyone please remain seated, we are just arriving at New Marilyn. The soldiers will be making their way into the train and will then order you to go with them" The woman spoke, the men cheered as the train came to a halt.
"Who's ready to kill some Gyrun!" The man from earlier announced, the others had all cheered once more but this time Atlas did not cheer with them.
His father had once taught him to respect anybody from any continent since he is from both blood, Atlas would always take his fathers lessons to heart whenever he was taught something.
The men cheering all had happy faces but it would soon change, the soldiers had filled the carts and had moved the men to the base where they trained daily. Atlas didn't mind this though since it wasn't any different then working on the farm.
He would wake up at the crack of dawn like usual then they would take short showers and quickly freshen themselves up for early training. The men would run for five miles before stopping and would take twenty minutes for a resting period.
The recruits would then go around and make their way around the obstacle course multiple times before heading to the shooting range. Atlas' father had taught him how to shoot guns before.
Working on the farm meant keeping the animals away, every time Atlas shot it would always come centimeters from its mark. Other recruits would either miss the human cutout or hit the outer part of the target.
Then they would eat lunch and freshen up for the last part of the day, the final part was to go around the whole base and do anything an officer had told them to do.
Atlas and the other men had been doing this for the past seven weeks, and to most of their relief it was time for their departure.