Xerum blearily glanced up from the floor, exhausted to the bone. His form ragged from months of being close to starvation that, along with the brutal training, felt like a reprieve from the hell his life had been up to this point.
A burly swordsman screamed at the group of teenagers, "Listen up, maggots! Tomorrow you venture into a new world, if you've picked up anything from this training I hope it's that you're able to survive anything with enough grit and determination."
The man gestured towards a much older man, clad in dark robes that seemed to absorb the fading light of sunset, enrobing him in a subtle glow of darkness, confusing the eye.
"This is Archmage Hatua. Come tomorrow morning you'll meet here and form rank, he will bring you to a portal and you will enter a new realm. I hope you can fight hard and bring back resources, we need all we can get at this point."
Dragging himself up onto his feet, his muscles protesting every moment, Xerum shook weakly as he stood, saluting in typical military fashion. Of all those he had trained with, he was under no illusion that on the morrow over 90% would be dead, it was a blessing he never became close with anyone, although no one really did these days. When the world around you is literally falling apart it's hard to make real connections after all.
"Return to the barracks, rest up as best you can. We've provided a decent meal so you don't have to suffer through your usual slop, consider it your last meal. Dismissed!"
Relaxing his stance, Xerum trudged back to the barracks, the weight of the expectations upon him far outweighing the fatigue his body felt.
Upon arriving, aside from the standard gruel there was bread. "Not much of a last meal, but I haven't had bread in years so its better than nothing" he thought, ravenously devouring the meal before crawling into bed and passing out.
His final thoughts before his eyes shut were, "If any god's are still around and I am to die tomorrow, please make it quick."