But Davis didn't look down on him for it; instead, he comforted him:
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Ghana."
“We fought to the very last moment, and your family will be proud of what you did today and the bravery you showed.”
“You are an excellent soldier.” Davis’s words seemed to be addressed to everyone present at that moment.
However, this comfort did not ease the young soldier's mind. He was still wiping away his tears, but the tears flowed even more freely. He sobbed, "..."
"Sir..."
"My mother just wants me to go home as soon as possible."
Upon hearing this, Davis's face stiffened. He had long since disregarded life and death and had made the same demands of his soldiers, but Ghana's words gave Davis a feeling he had never experienced before.
Ghana lowered her arm from wiping away her tears, but continued talking to herself:
"Sir... I've been working here for two years now. I was supposed to be on leave this year, but Mr. Fisher told me that many more people are joining the army this year, and the army needs a lot of weapons."
"He told me to wait until this batch of weapons was manufactured, and then he would arrange a vacation for me in February."
“But Mr. Fisher said that to me last year. I just wanted to be with my family on New Year’s Eve. In November, I sent a letter to my mother. In her reply, she said that my sister was getting married on January 18th this year. If I came back, she could move the wedding to January 5th.”
“I said I would definitely be back this year.”
Ghana muttered to himself, slowly lowering the gun tucked under his arm. He had stopped crying, but his rambling was not interrupted. The people inside the room listened to the commotion outside while watching the young soldier, who was bleeding as he leaned against the wall.
Blood was slowly flowing from his lower body, and it had already begun to pool. There was no need for bandaging anymore, because death would soon befall everyone.
“I’m sorry, Garner, if only I had known you…” Davis began, but was interrupted by Garner’s subsequent muttering:
"Sir... it seems like we can never finish manufacturing weapons. As soon as we finish this batch, there will be another batch."
"But I really don't understand... why are we producing so many weapons, yet it's still not enough..."
"I can't even remember how long the war lasted. It started when I was very young, and it continued when I grew up. Hasn't the Federation been unified? Haven't we already built a great empire?"
At this point, Garner turned to look at Davis, but his vision was already blurred, and he could no longer make out anyone's face.
"Sir... can you tell me when this will be over?"
Ghana's question left Davis speechless. In Ghana's soliloquy, the pride Davis once felt for dying for his country, his personal bravery, and his indomitable will—things that had made him incredibly proud—seemed to become unreal.
All that remained in his heart was pure sadness.
Yes, as he said, this young man could have gone home.
This battle could have been avoided. If there had been no plan for expansion and colonization, the Yan people, who are currently wreaking havoc, might not have come here.
Davis suddenly felt frustrated. He wanted to put this feeling behind him. Dying as a brave warrior was the best ending for him, rather than dying with frustration and confusion.
But the more he tried to get rid of these chaotic thoughts, the more deeply rooted they became, even rapidly shattering Davis's long-held beliefs.
When will the war end? From the moment the fleet was dispatched, it has probably already dragged the entire country into the vortex of war.
And now, it can't be ended.
"It won't last long, Ghana. The Yan people will be driven out soon, and this war will end quickly." Davis's lips trembled as he uttered a lie he couldn't believe. A deep sense of sorrow spread through his heart. Davis felt helpless and pained.
Upon hearing the answer, the gun tucked under Ghana's arm fell to the ground. His eyelids drooped, and he said weakly:
"Is that so... After expelling the Yan people, there shouldn't be any more wars, right?"
As the last murmur faded, Ghana lowered his head, his arm knocking over the glasses, which fell into the pool of blood beneath him.
"Ghana, Ghana".
The soldiers beside him called out to Ghana softly, but at the end they whispered:
"Ghana is dead."
Silence fell over the command room. The soldiers remained silent, calmly accepting the death of yet another comrade. They had seen enough of this scene tonight, and soon it would be their turn.
The footsteps outside grew closer, making the soldiers realize that the enemy had locked onto the location. They no longer had any other emotions; they simply waited quietly for that moment to arrive.
"Feel sorry....."
An apology suddenly rang out, followed by suppressed sobs. The soldiers turned their weary faces to look at the person who was crying.
Davis covered his face with his hands, the gun he had been holding had fallen to the ground, and he was trembling violently. Even in the most desperate moments of his life, he had never cried, but at this moment he was crying uncontrollably.
All his beliefs have collapsed.
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