Could you believe this guy?
Not only was he brazen enough to impersonate a god.
Tell me the most outrageous lies and try to hitch a ride on my body.
Now he even told me to become a lunatic.
You have to know that believers of different gods than the true gods are branded as heretics and have basically forsaken their right to live, or any right for that matter.
Despite Shawa being an actual god he is not one of the true gods of the Galactic empire and if you are seen worshiping him.
Death might be the most merciful punishment.
Physical and mental torture, rape, becoming a lab-rat or simply being a slave in the asteroid mines are all in the ballpark of possibilities.
If you're lucky and have the looks for it you might get away with being some rich nobless's plaything.
Being branded as a heretic is a fate worse than death.
So there was no way I would help him.
But in contrast to my thoughts my actions were different….
I lower my head and start doing a bow, I go down towards the ground as far as I can.
This is probably the deepest bow I can do.
And I recite the mantra my mother taught me.
"Al rakshi al ruksha al rada ne sada camba bora gero shawa e rodo." (no emperor, no empress, no hero or no bishop will be forever. But shawa will rule)
"Al rakshi al ruksha al rada ne sada camba bora gero shawa e rodo"
"Wah nuiki ni bollut, wah nuiki ni sha ka brero bo satar ki shawa" (Everything will fall, everything will change only shawa will always stay)
This was followed by 3 more bows.
"How nice you know how to greet your god…. well this should be expected, It's not everyday I grace one of my believers with my presence."
I could see that huge smug smile again…. how I would love to smash it into pieces.
But no, I wouldn't do that.
While I had zero capabilities of dealing with spiritual entities, especially not ones powerful enough to connect to my soul.
I knew how to deal with prideful individuals.
I had no shame, no honor or pride to uphold.
I was nothing more than a cockroach in the vast cosmos.
Why would I care about my reputation if there was no one who would remember me.
Why should I hold my head up high when it was just going to be shot down.
No if I saw a chance I would take it no matter the price I have to pay.
I knelt down on one knee, put my fist to my chest and kept my head lowered.
"Your will is my command, forgive me for doubting you, It would have pained me too much if I had shown my devotion to anyone other than the real Shawa."
I didn't think ghost's could blush but I caught a glimpse of at least something similar.
Actual goosebumps overcame me and a bit of sweat dripped down my forehead.
I will have to learn how to act better in the future but for now it seems to be enough.
Looking at me weirdly the imposter shifts his gaze to the side and murmurs something.
"Oh that was a lot easier than expected…"
That should be my line….
"Well anyway mortal I could easily explain the authority I will give you and what an honor it is to gain it, as you are the first mortal to gain an authority this strong from the great me. But I think it is a lot easier to just show you what I mean."
As he says this the world around me starts to collapse and I feel dizzy as if going back to sleep.
The last thing I hear is.
"I will be awaiting good news and many devoted followers."
-WHOOSH-
I was on the battlefield again….fighting as always.
Day in and day out, there was no time for rest.
And worst of all, no way to escape.
I tried… time and time again with every failed attempt, my methods were getting more cruel.
I had tried desertion, being presumed dead and even treason.
Nothing was out of the realm of possibility, but I could not die.
If there was one thing I could not risk, then it was to die a meaningless death.
Seasons changed and so did the qualities needed to survive, there was not a moment where my limits were not reached.
But I overcame those limits over and over again.
It became so brutal and unforgiving that the cruel greedy higher ups who did not bat an eye at the fact that even little children took up arms.
Had peace talks….
Even the luckiest, bravest and most capable soldiers had died before me.
Why was I still alive?
I was not the strongest or smartest, luck was not on my side and for all intents and purposes I should have died already.
The only thing I had… was my burning unwavering determination.
I would do so many despicable and horrible deeds I could never even envision doing before, from killing comrades, stealing, lying, poisoning and even selling my own soul to the devil, there was nothing off the table.
Those peace talks? You ask?
They obviously went nowhere and my freedom was now just a far fetched dream, while death seemed to become more and more of an inevitable reality.
How I hated the people that had created me.
The monster I had become felt nothing… even when killing people that trusted me with their life.
And that was how I continued this wretched life of mine.
But all things had to end…. and so did my story.
Not in some glorious last battle for freedom.
Not with my heroic sacrifice.
No it just ended as all lives did on the battlefield.
Unnoticed by all but yourself.
Slowly becoming one with the accursed mud.
— — — —
"AHhhh haaah"
You gasp for air.
Sweat trickling down your forehead.
(what was that)
You remember some details about a dream but it's not all too clear.
To your right a medic is cleaning some poor guy's wound.
No one is paying attention to you.
(where is my weapon?)
You think to yourself.
(What's the situation, where am I?)
You don't remember much, other than the fact that you…. died!?
There is a huge headache accompanying your attempts at trying to remember what happened before this.
You might not have noticed it yet but something changed… you changed.
Years of suppressed anger bubble up inside you but you are already too accustomed to suppressing it, there is no room for anger on the battlefield.
Constant war had not only left scars on your body but on your mind as well.
You had not gotten any closer to your goal, everyday felt like you were swimming in a sea of razor blades hoping not to be swallowed.
This made you accustomed to the conditions of war and ingrained habits you follow with fanatical devotion .
Left right, left right… no danger just the medic, no unexpected sound either.
First was orienting yourself.
Your weapon?
It rested near the small cloth that was acting as your bed.
You instantly grabbed it…. it wasn't reloaded and in a terrible condition.
You felt the urge to instantly clean it and make sure it would work properly.
But that had to wait till you knew what the hell was going on.
Your surroundings seemed safe, you had minimal injuries and your weapon was there.
Still that did not have to mean you were safe, the tent for injured soldiers had a noise canceling field around it.
Your life didn't seem in any grave danger.
There was the wound you had received, which did hurt.
But you had experienced worse.
Some of the wounds you received you didn't even want to think about.
But something was weird..
As you inspected your whole body for wounds you inevitably got to your left hand.
Your left hand?
You still had your left hand???
The place where your trusty/rusty prosthetic arm was supposed to be there was an actual hand.
You couldn't believe it.
Using it felt great, almost making you feel ecstatic for the first time in ages.
You touched your own face with it and the familiar rough weathered skin you were so accustomed to by now, had become soft and smooth.
Even the scars on your face seemed to have vanished.
(hahahahhahahaha what is going on)
You needed to see for yourself, running past all the occupied medics and jumping over the injured soldiers who were looking at you funny.
At the entrance you moved the tent flap and were blinded by the light.
Soldiers were moving cargo, some were lazing around acting as if they were standing guard, others seemed to be walking off to their squad while some just enjoyed their rations and the short peace they had.
You could hear them talking, in the background a sergeant was shouting at some new recruits and a group of people even laughed.
Snowflakes were falling from the sky like little diamonds.
This was a sight you had not seen in ages.
The sky even had a hint of blue in it instead of the constant gray clouds that permeated the battlefield.
After years of dark grey skies and black snow the sky you were seeing was too beautiful.
The battlegrounds filled with despair and the constant stench of death, piss and sulfur now just had traces of that smell.
The constant sound of bombardement, gunfire and plane flights that colored the battlefield with bright flashes of white and red was now exchanged for talking soldiers and even some chirping birds.
Initially you were shocked,
too shocked to even think of the implications of this…. but now.
Now you understand what happened.
You had thought this might have been the peace you had so direly desired, but your arm was proof that there was more to this.
After some time gawking at the people walking past you, you remembered this place.
This atmosphere, these sounds, these smells and the people that were around you.
This was your first battlefield 'Smolka', a small barren place in between two villages.
But that was not all…. you had turned back in time to the start of the war, to the start of your miserable existence as a slave to the militia.
"Haaaaaah"
You took a big breath of fresh air and a tear almost dropped.
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHhhhhhhhhHhHHkrgghhrghrgrgr"
Suddenly pain shot up, it felt like your brain was being drilled into from all sides.
A pressure and intensity that felt nothing like the time your upper body was pierced by pieces of debris from a hand grenade.
Not even the time when you got tortured for a full day was something to compare this to.