"Lewie!"

 

Lieutenant Ryan Yauger looked back at the men behind him in the APC, "Yeah, Pierce?"

 

They were riding along in yet another godless stretch of dust and brambles in Kekistan. Everyone was worn out as they had to keep up this punishing rotation. On paper they were actually working less hours than ever, but because they were supposed to work at various locations all over the area, the driving was doubling the amount of time on duty. Everyone was getting punchy, especially Pierce.

 

"Any chance you got to talk about getting us stationed at one place again?"

 

Ryan slouched down in the front seat, pulling his helmet forward, "Every chance I get, Pierce." Pierce grumbled. Ryan glanced back for a second then went back to slouching, "I was going to save this for when we got back, but I got your leave approved."

 

Pierce perked up, but Ryan cut him off, "Now stop your bitch-" Ryan caught something out of the corner of his eye and sat up, "Heads up." Everyone went from casual boredom to full paranoid alert. They were coming up on a bombed out gas station that wasn't on the maps, "Worm, are we lost?"

 

Worm had got a tattoo that was supposed to be a snake, but he was drunk when he got it so instead it looked more like a worm. At least that's what Ryan said. Shortly thereafter the nickname stuck. Worm took it in stride. There were worse nicknames, "I don't know. I thought we came this way last time. All the rest of this looks familiar."

 

Ryan let loose a string of expletives as they pulled up and saw the side of the building. Nothing sprayed on it, "Of all the rotten luck. You know our orders. We gotta check this place out." Someone in the back said, "Can't we drive past it like last time?"

 

Someone got hit in the back of the head, "Idiot."

 

Ryan sighed, "This was when I was taking a nap yesterday?" He cursed again and motioned, "Everyone out!" They deployed and kept low. As they spread out, they did a quick sweep of the area. The sun was setting so the shadows were long and it made seeing things difficult. They eventually determined that nobody was present and there didn't appear to be any dead bodies.

 

Ryan went up to the building and started to tag the side of it putting a big X up first, then spray painting two zeros and the date. That way the next crew that came by would know when this place had last been checked out. He finished by putting a code at the bottom to represent his unit.

 

Everyone got back in the APC when the Ryan felt nature's call, "G'damit." He paused, looked down the road, and weighed the chance he could make it to the next stop in time. He opened the door and started to get out when Worm reached out to stop him, "What are you doing?"

 

Ryan waved the hand off, "I need to drain the dragon." Worm was about to say something, "We just checked it out. Give me five minutes." Worm let go and Ryan went over to the building to relieve himself. As he did, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

 

Cursing, he fumbled with his gun and knelt down, taking aim at the movement. It was closing in on the APC. He flicked on his night vision scope to get a better look...

 

...and saw a little girl wearing a bomb vest.

 

She was about the same age as Ryan's daughter.

 

 

Everything went white.

 

---

 

 

Ryan's life went into a tale spin. None of Ryan's men survived. Most of his men were single, but two were married, and Pierce had just had a son. Out of the guilt from failing to shoot that child, Ryan tried his best to take care of his men's families.

 

He did this at the cost of his own.

 

The problem was every time he looked at his own daughter, he remembered the little girl he didn't kill. This drove him away from home. He wound up running himself ragged trying to keep up with his self-imposed, impossible demands while drifting further and further away from his wife and daughter.

 

One night he woke up with his wife screaming at him.

 

He was holding down his daughter with one hand. In his other he was holding a knife. His wife was struggling to keep him from murdering his own flesh and blood.

 

Ryan dropped the knife and backed away, cowering in the corner.

 

His wife never reported it, but she packed up her daughter and moved out that very night. Four years passed as Ryan tried to put his life back together. Finally, having turned thirty-eight, Ryan gave notice that he was retiring from the Army. He was giving up the military and planned on devoting himself to his family entirely.

 

He'd been to therapy and while he never had a true breakthrough, he was going in the right direction. He had been stationed in Japan for a while now helping with some joint engineering project. He planned on having his wife and daughter come visit. He'd show them the best Japan had to offer, then announce he was going to quit being a soldier once and for all.

 

He was waiting in the terminal watching the arrival times. The flight's arrival time changed and now read canceled. This was odd since it had been flying to Japan for hours now. In fact, it should only be an hour out, at most. As he stared up at the arrival board, wondering what it meant, a representative of the airline approached him from behind, "Excuse me. Are you Ryan Yauger?" He turned around to look at a woman with a very sad expression. He nodded once. She forced a smile, "I need you to come with me."

 

On the monitor behind her, he saw a TV that was displaying the news of an airplane that just crashed out to sea. Ryan's vision started to swim as he saw the flight number at the bottom of the info graphic.

 

"I'm afraid there has been an accident."

 

 

---

 

 

Charity and the king were the two who were closest to Ryan when it began, and thus they wound up being the two who held him down as he went completely insane. As the memories assaulted him, he screamed out exactly what happened every step of the way. He recalled every mistake, every blunder, every single miscalculation that led, inexorably, right up to his divorce. Every single memory pointed to one inescapable conclusion.

 

It was his own damn fault.

 

He tried to shut it out. He tried to bash his head against the wall. He tried everything to not remember, but there was nothing he could do to stop the relentless march of memories. He didn’t want to say it out loud either, but this information was so painful he couldn’t contain it. He needed to get it out of his head. It felt like burning hot nails driven into his brain and only way to excise it was to shout. For several minutes, all he could do was scream every shameful act that led up to the end. As he was forced to relive every painful second, he became more and more hysterical and incoherent. Tears ran down his face as he thrashed about begging someone... anyone... to put him out of his misery.

 

The doctor arrived, bringing with him a sedative. He poured the fluid on a cloth and covered Ryan's face, but for some reason it had no effect. All anyone could do was just hold on as Ryan's forced confession worked itself out.

 

Most of what he said made little sense to those present, but to the King, a man who had seen the way war affected soldiers, he knew genuine pain when he saw it. This boy had endured... something. It didn’t matter if it was a Heck dimension, the gods cramming too much information into a tiny mind, or something else entirely.

 

Something broke this child.

 

Eventually Ryan finished and seemed to collapse in on himself. He just whimpered when the King finally let go. He had stopped trying to hurt himself. He put up no resistance when Charity hugged him and continued to occasionally mutter words of comfort. When Ryan periodically said something, his words were nonsensical at best and incoherent at worst. Eventually Ryan passed out from exhaustion.

 

Charity stayed with him while the other three left. They all were silent as they walked back to the King's office. No one stood on ceremony. Everyone sat down as soon as they reached their chairs, instead of waiting for the king to sit first.

 

The room was utterly silent.

 

Finally the king spoke, "Someone tell me what just happened." Kyle shook his head, not even daring to speculate.

The headmaster spoke quietly, "I have a theory."

The king looked over, "Don't keep me in suspense."

The headmaster cleared his throat, "What if... he was telling the truth?"

Kyle snorted.

 

The headmaster spoke up, "Hear me out. We have an oracle about the coming of the Demon Lord. The gods sent us help. What if... they tried to pick another and... something went wrong.” The king sat up, looking interested in this theory. “Reed wasn't able to take the blessing and went insane so... the gods took his soul somewhere for training and for him it feels like decades, but for us he was only in a coma for a few days."

 

The king leaned back, "Is that... possible?"

 

The headmaster dithered for a while, "Ehhhh... they are the gods. Sure. It is possible. And if Reed Ratliff endured their... training. That would explain why his mind is now... skewed. He has seen and experienced things we can only imagine and his mind is trying to process it."

The headmaster stroked his beard, "It would also explain why it was so difficult to examine him when he was in the first coma." He snapped his fingers, "Of course! I couldn't get a reading on him because his soul wasn't present!"

 

The king stared at the headmaster then over at his chancellor, "Thoughts?"

 

Kyle steepled his fingers, "Well, he made a mockery of your guards. He may very well be blessed by the gods. He certainly has experienced..." Kyle glanced at the exit, "Something.” Kyle looked back towards the king, “Something that may have broken him to the point he's useless." He sighed and looked at the headmaster, "Regardless, I object to your policy of turning children into soldiers. Do you intent to do that to this one as well?"

 

The headmaster snorted, "There is a big difference. The gods broke THIS child, not I. WE are making sure the first one is being trained properly in a school not some... Hell dimension."

The king corrected the headmaster, "Heck. He said 'Heck Dimension'."

The headmaster replied, "Hell. Heck. Whatever." He looked at Kyle, "I want him."

Kyle snapped at the headmaster, "Are you as insane as that boy? That boy needs to be committed to a sanatorium!"

 

The headmaster turned to the king, "Demon. Lord."

 

Kyle scoffed, "And this child will be useful?"

The headmaster nodded energetically, "Yes! He will. I can feel it. He has more potential than the other one and unlike the first, he seems to come... battle hardened." He shrugged, "I didn't understand half the things he screamed, but I know that the half that I understood scared me. Imagine if we could turn that against the demon lord! Imagine if we can put him back together. We have a few years. Don't abandon this... well... you heard him. Hero. He wants to be a hero.” The headmaster’s eyes sparkled, “Let's make him one!"

 

The king listened to his two advisors and waited until the debate died down before he spoke, "What is dopamine addiction?"

The two looked puzzled, looked at each other, then back at the king, "No idea." They said in near unison.

The king leaned back, "Power leads to addiction... addiction leads to corruption... corruption leads to monsters." He looked at the ceiling, "Power isn't the problem... it is addiction to power that is the problem."

 

Kyle seemed to have lost the thread of the king’s thought process. He cleared his throat, "Ummm... sire?"

 

The king sat up, "I never thought of it that way. He's right. Of the nobles that have been giving us trouble, it is always the ones with the greatest lust for power... as if they are addicts." He raised a finger, " The nobles who are the most productive and trustworthy always complain. I would dare say they almost hate their duties."

 

The headmaster stroked his beard, "Honestly I find being the headmaster to be a major pain in my backside. I only put up with it so you will fund my research."

Kyle gave the king a sly smile, "Indeed. I, as well, dislike my duties since I find them so annoying.” His smile faded, “But then again, I find little joy in anything. Since…” His voice trailed off as his expression started to darken along with his thoughts. The king noticed the direction Kyle’s mind was going and so spoke to interrupt it, "SUCH disloyalty." He waggled a finger at both. Kyle blinked as he looked up. The headmaster said nothing, instead he quietly flipped the king off. Kyle rolled his eyes at the playful back and forth.

 

The king sat up and let out a long breath, "But seriously. If you can get him sane enough to let loose in public within a week, he's yours. I'll make sure he attends your school." The king thought for a second then added, "Don't push him too hard. I don't want to break him. He's been through a great deal and the last thing we need is for him flee the country. He already suggested it, so we know he considers it a possibility." He glanced over at a large map on the wall that was of his country and its boarders, "I fear what would happen if our neighbors to the west got a hold of him."

 

The chancellor and headmaster both nodded grimly in agreement to that.