2 October 2172, sunny
Truth to be told, this planet is no longer suitable for human habitation, starting from the moment the Russian committed atrocities in Paris.
These trivial complaints have no meaning coming from a man of my status. Being able to complain, after all, is a good thing since those 21 people in battalion next door couldn’t even complain anymore.
I remember Daniel, a young man who always likes to aim at people's nuts and blew up his own guns, his DNA can't even be found anymore in the aftermath of the war in Berlin.
That damn guy…you still owe me a drink, dammit!
Running into enemies, taking cover, shooting, calling for an airstrike, advancing continuously…and praying to the priest.
