The soldier's first breath was a ragged gasp, as if his lungs were remembering the act of living after being starved of air for far too long.
His chest rose and fell, each breath coming quicker than the last as he tried to ground himself in the here and now. His limbs felt heavy, like lead, but slowly, he managed to sit up.
The world around him swam, edges blurring and colors bleeding together.
Everything was too bright, too sharp, too alive.
He blinked, trying to clear his vision. Shapes swam into focus—familiar shapes.
His comrades, standing around him in a wide circle, their faces pale and drawn.
They were silent at first, too shocked to form words, their eyes wide and unblinking as if they were staring at a ghost.
The soldier's gaze darted from one face to another, searching for something—anything—that made sense.
"What…" he croaked, his voice rough and weak, like it hadn't been used in days. "What happened?"
