The early morning of the following day... All the children brought from the refugee camp were forcefully woken up by the soldiers of this private force. Those from the military who brought these young kids were now gone, and this private militia was now in charge of their lives.
Morpheus woke up with an incongruous face, still tired from the continuous journey, where all of them were basically dumped on each other inside the trucks. Just like him, every other kid was scared; many cried throughout the trip and pissed their pants.
And Morpheus had already seen what was waiting for them yesterday, so he was not optimistic. Inside, he was still terrified, but outside... he didn't show a single expression as if it were a cold and lifeless statue.
Step!
Step!
While walking in the queue, Morpheus saw many other kids around the same age on both sides of his sides. And none of these were the kids brought from their refugee camp.
