Soldier's last moments

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     Beneath the eerie glow of the moonlight, the abandoned factory stood as a relic of a bygone era, a shattered monument to a forgotten industry. The shattered windows glistened with fractured glass, reflecting the silver luminescence, while the remnants of rusted machinery loomed like forsaken sentinels, cloaked in the shadows of their former might.

     Amidst the smell of rust and decay, the stench of blood and gunpowder lingered in the air, a haunting testament to the violence that had erupted in that desolate arena. The explosions from grenades contrasted starkly against the factory's silent decay.

     Combatants sought refuge behind the shattered walls and scraps of metal, bathed in sweat and dirt, their fingers glued to the trigger as they unleashed a merciless hail of bullets upon their adversaries. The atmosphere itself seemed to bear witness to their relentless struggle and the nature itself wept for the chaos it was forced to harbour.

     Yet, even in the face of overwhelming odds, their determination remained steadfast, unwavering until their captain's voice shattered the thick air.

     "Everyone, retreat. I repeat we are retreating," the captain's sharp and authoritative command pierced through the turmoil. "Leave everything and fall back!" The captain's shout resonated with a blend of concern and a strategic decision.

     As the war raged on, a soldier found himself kneeling in the dirt and debris, his heart heavy as he cradled a fallen comrade, a bother, in his arms. The wounded soldier's eyes flickered, his strength waning with every passing second, yet his voice trembled with urgency. "Go, retreat. Save...yourself," he whispered like a fragile breath.

     Tears glistened in the soldier's eyes as he gazed down at the dying comrade, his face etched with fierce determination and anguished sorrow. "No," he choked out. "We are in this together, just as we always were."

     The sounds of the battle continued to rage around them, but the soldier's focus trained solely on the man in his arms, his grip gentle but resolute. They had been through countless battles together, but this one felt different, more ominous,  a sense of finality hung heavy in the air.

     In the distance, the enemy's artillery shells soared through the air, exploding with fiery fury. The ground itself trembled beneath the onslaught and the soldier clung to his mate until his knuckles turned white.

     "Remember Beth, your family," the dying warrior's fervent plea clawed its way into the soldier's heart. "They await your return."

     "They will understand," the soldier murmured, the name of his loved ones conjuring memories that surged from the depths of his soul.

     Their laughter, the warmth of their heart, their gentle touch, that he might never feel again.

     "You will be back soon? I'll be waiting. I still have to figure out the wedding theme, but you know you can trust me, right? Please come back safely and don't you dare forget me. I love you."

     "Son, we are so proud of you today. All the parents would die to see their children's success. You gave us a reason to live with our heads titled high up. We want you to know that we will have your back, no matter what. Come back soon, we and Beth will be waiting for the marriage."

     "Bro! This uniform looks so cool, wow! I want to be just like you; a soldier with proud parents and a beautiful fiance. When you come back, I want you to teach me the skills of fighting, the one in the movies. I wanna be like Jackie Chan."

     Memories of their last farewell now mingled with the acrid tang of war. Tears pooled in his eyes, sticking to his lashes before streaking down his cheeks.

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