"This world is doomed" I mutter to myself. All I see around me are countless bodies—soldiers, innocents—dead for what reason? Ten years… Ten long years of this cursed war. I can't move anymore. My left leg is shattered, and there's a gaping hole in my stomach that makes even thinking about moving unbearable.The flames rage around me. I can smell the stench of blood mixed with gunpowder and ether. This scene... this destruction...Sobs echo through the smoke."Why am I remembering that damned day now…?""Nour… Nour, run. Leave me behind. This is the end for me."I was ten years old back then."No… No, I won't leave you, Amal. Even if I lose every limb, I won't leave you behind!"stupid.... fucking coward."Nour… Amal, can you hear me? Please, answer me!" A voice called out through the chaos.I can still hear her voice, faint and dying, that day."Yes, Nour is here, Uncle," she croaked through the pain, barely able to speak. "Please… please save him. Save Nour."My sister was only thirteen then, but she always acted like she was older, even more mature than our own mother."Oh my God… Amal!" The terror in his voice was clear. I couldn't blame him. There was a metal rod lodged deep in her stomach, and her right arm was… gone. But in the midst of the wreckage, despite everything, Amal never showed fear. Her hand, trembling, held mine tight, trying to reassure me.I knew she was scared. Her tear-filled eyes met mine, her face strained but still trying to smile. With a soft, trembling voice, she whispered, "Nour, don't be sad. I'm sorry, but I can't take care of you anymore. You're shy, I know… but I also know you're stronger than any of the adults I've met. Goodbye, Nour… I wish you a happy life.""Nour… . . . . ."The last thing I remember was screaming so loud it drowned out whatever Uncle tried to say. What was his name again? I can't remember. Not that it matters.What came next was a blur. after that I saw humanity at its worst. In the darkest times, people show their true colors.It's almost funny that I'm still alive, breathing. But I suppose these are my final breaths. I think… I'm finally going to die. How ironic, after all the soldiers envied me, called me the perfect soldier. And now? There's no difference between me and any other dead man.If I could change one thing, it would be… saving my sister that day.Thump… thump…A loud, heavy pulse.What's happening? Did someone save me? How? I'm sure I lost my left leg, and yet… this place—it's so eerily calm. No screams, no fires, no war.I need to see who saved me, to thank them. But… what is this? How is this possible? My left leg—it's still here! How? If I survived that injury, surely my leg should've been gone, at least! And my body… it feels weak, like I've been asleep for months."micheal wake up....i'm going to be late"I found myself in a simple, dimly lit room, the walls of rough stone. There were no signs of the war, no scorched earth or bodies. Instead, there was a wooden dresser, a mirror, and a window letting in soft morning light. But none of it mattered because The voice was unfamiliar—young, too young for a battlefield. How…?The door creaked open, slowly revealing the source of the voice."Michael, wake up now, or I won't make you breakfast."I froze.What…? For the first time in the ten years since the war began, real fear surged through me. Because standing there, in front of me, was a ghost."Amal?!"