This is something I wrote a while ago, but never posted it. It's a rewrite of something I found in a journal from many MANY moons ago. I'm talking that stage when all you wear is black and listen to grunge metal and old school hip hop. Regardless the nostalgia got me.
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I was 18 when the draft finally grabbed me. In this country, Metahlia, there is a constant need of soldiers to fuel the cabinet's age-old bloodlust against their rival, the province of Aseria, and they grab us ripe the millisecond we hit adulthood. Thousands of young men and women are funneled into the military against their will to serve a minimum of two years, while unfortunately very few make it out. To survive was to win, and during those battles you had no insurance, but to pray that Fate herself that she had you within her reach. When I was 16 the military had made an appeal to the public; They claimed they had found a way to end the bloodshed, a way to quell the fighting and the endless deaths, and offered a deal during a press conference: any who joined their new recruit program would only have a single year of service and be granted wartime draft immunity thereafter. Several young souls leapt at the opportunity for a shorter service time, but what awaited was unfathomable. The recruitment drive was nothing but a scheme; a filthy facade for a chance to create human weapons. They had created nanomachines that could replicate and take the place of human cells; a living metal.
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