"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."
A young man groaned as he looked down at his bleeding body. Bullet holes riddled his torso, his entire left leg was gone, and his right leg was smashed like a baked potato.
"..."
Blood leaked from his mouth; the pain was unbearable. He had been sniped and hit by a small drop gengrade bomb. It wasn't a large explosive, just a small one meant to scare ground troops, but fate was cruel. The bomb landed directly on his lower body because of the wind.
"...Ahh..."
He let out a weak groan as tears fell from his eyes, not from pain, but from the realization that he was about to die.
"...Shit..."
His hands were growing cold. Death was creeping closer. Memories of his entire life flashed before him, a life filled with nothing but pain and despair.
He had grown up in a land consumed by civil war. His childhood was spent running from gunfire and violence. He never even finished middle school; the schools had long since closed as the fighting worsened day by day.
His father had been a simple cook, his mother a housewife. Both were only middle school graduates. They weren't poor, but the whole system around them was broken,a world designed to fail from the start.
When he was sixteen, his mother died from a landmine explosion. By then, he was already a child soldier, uneducated, desperate, and trapped in the only life he knew. Becoming a soldier was easy... but leaving that life was impossible.
Her death didn't shake him. He was too used to seeing death. But something inside him broke that day.
Now, at twenty-two, he was dying,killed by a drone strike, maybe dropped by some sixteen-year-old sitting behind a screen. He had plenty of chances to escape this hell, but he never did. He had even finished high school at twenty, just to fulfill his mother's dying wish. He could read, write English, and had enough money to start anew... but he stayed.
After all, war was all he knew.
He was raised by it, shaped by it, and he had killed many.
He didn't hate war,he enjoyed it.
He was evil, and he knew it.
His childhood memories flickered one last time as he thought, "Guess I never got punished for all my crimes."
His eyes slowly closed as another bomb fell this time, meant to finish the job. His body was torn apart completely, his remains left to feed the animals.
---
"Ah..."
He gasped as his eyes shot open, filled with panic and confusion. Around him stood people dressed in old-fashioned Western suits, and maids were watching him anxiously.
"Young Master! Are you alright?"
An elderly man in a black suit and glasses spoke, his voice stern but worried.
Didn't I die?
That was the only thought in his mind. His heart pounded as he remembered the slow, painful death he had deserved. He had tortured captured enemies before; compared to what he had done, his death had been merciful.
"Son, are you okay?"
A gentle, worried voice pulled him back to reality. He turned to see a stunning woman with blonde, curly hair and an hourglass figure like the kind of beauty found only in novels with impossible standards.
"...Yes..."
His lips moved automatically. For a moment, her face reminded him of his mother,the same warmth, the same concern. His chest ached. He had been a terrible son and a shitty person.
"It seems there's no major issue," said the old man with glasses, adjusting his frame and the glasses was glowing like LED light.
"His head was injured, so he might have some temporary memory loss. But it should return soon. For now, he just needs rest and personal space."
"I understand, Doctor. Thank you for coming."
The woman's face softened with relief. The accident had been serious; he had been unconscious for a full day.
A few minutes later, everyone left the room, giving him space. His eyes wandered across the enormous, lavish chamber. The intricate designs and furniture screamed nobility.
' Is this... heaven? he thought. No... if anything, I should've gone to hell.'
He had committed too many war crimes, even and he had enjoyed every moment of it.
'Or... did I reincarnate in another world? No way... right?'
The sensation was too real to be a dream. His head throbbed as strange new memories began to surface like a movie flashing through his mind in a single second.
' Eren Vardman...'
His breath caught.
'No way... right?....'