The night was deathly quiet.

  As the truck crawled toward the actual front lines, everyone held their breath. They strained their ears to catch the sporadic cracks of distant gunfire. The driver had dimmed the headlights to their lowest setting, terrified of becoming a glowing target for a stray bomb.

  Suddenly, a soldier in the truck flicked on the radio. A multi-party joint announcement crackled through the static:

  "...July 21, 1978—Both sides have reached an agreement. The Rio Sangreza will serve as the temporary ceasefire line... To ensure strict enforcement, UN Peacekeeping forces will establish bases on both banks of the river..."

  Cheers erupted inside the carriage. Lucy was practically dancing. "Elena! Did you hear that? We report to camp tomorrow, and then maybe we can go home!"

  Elena shook her head. In the pitch-black truck, she knew Lucy couldn't see her, and she didn't know how to explain the grim reality.

  Five years ago, the ceasefire had also been drawn at the Rio Sangreza. After all, one of the main triggers for this war was the struggle over water. Years of fighting had turned the Sangreza plains into a wasteland. The population was zero—people were either dead or had fled.

  The war might be "over," but the support units weren't going home. They were being kept there to farm the land on both sides of the river. The President called it a "landmark food production initiative." In a country where half the people were starving because of the war, the recultivation of the Sangreza plains was the nation's only hope.

  ...

  As dawn broke, the truck finally lurched to a halt. Everyone rubbed their bleary eyes and poked their heads out.

  Was this Marida? The "town" was nothing but collapsed walls and piles of rubble. Only a few skeleton-like buildings remained standing.

  "It's... it's horrible," someone whispered.

  Elena didn't bother looking. She had seen this ruin in her past life; she was used to it. She knew that within three years, these roads would be brand new and lined with buildings. The government was about to drop a new mandate: both new recruits and veterans had to live here for three years before they could go home—all to grow grain by the Sangreza.

  Some veterans had already fought for two years; adding three more meant five years away from home. Some of their wives had remarried; others simply took a new wife here and built a new house. In this broken country, the law against bigamy was currently the least of anyone's concerns.

  "Elena, are you okay?"

  Lucy thought Elena was motion-sick, but Elena was just heavy-hearted. She had stood in this exact spot, in this exact scene, twice now.

  In her last life, Elena had been vomiting her guts out here. But this time... Elena pulled out some motion-sickness pills and popped one into Lucy's mouth.

  The medicine worked fast. Lucy's voice regained its strength. "Elena, hide those pills! If the others see them, they'll beg you for some until you have none left."

  "I know." Elena wrapped the pills in a cloth bundle and tucked them deep into her pocket.

  The moment the other girls stepped off the truck, they began vomiting violently. With their pale faces and the thin morning mist swirling around them like a shroud, they looked like ghosts.

  Sienna, who had followed them off the truck, caught a glimpse of the small bundle in Elena's hand. She frowned. She had been distracted and missed what Elena had given Lucy.

  A bitter twinge hit Sienna's heart. Elena's family must really spoil her, she thought. They even prepared treats for her. And me? I'm just the unwanted child they threw away.

  Sensing Sienna's gaze, Elena shot her a warning look before leaning back against her luggage to rest. To avoid motion sickness, the best cure was sleep.

  As they left the town, the road flattened out into a vast, green expanse. While the two armies had been locked in a stalemate in the mountains, the Sangreza plains had miraculously escaped the worst of the bombing. However, there was no smoke rising from the distant chimneys. The farmers were long gone.

  Two hours later, they arrived at Beldora Village. A notice was posted at the entrance: Minimum stay: Three years.

  The faces of those who had hoped to go home the next day instantly went dark.

  The notice also listed their specific assignments. Sienna, Elena, Lucy, and three others—two men and one woman—were to continue to a place called Solana. That was their final destination.

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  The road to Solana was too narrow for trucks. They would have to take an oxcart.

  Just thinking about Solana gave Elena a headache. She loathed the idea of going back there. The army might let her transfer to a place closer to town because of her "weak health," but they wouldn't let Lucy go.

  Fine, Elena decided. Whatever happens, I'm staying with Lucy.

  On the oxcart, the six young people introduced themselves. The men were Tomas and Luis, and the other girl was Anita. Thanks to the pre-war economic boom and mandatory education, they were all high school graduates—intellectuals, in a sense. Lucy and Elena were from the rural outskirts of the city. Tomas and Anita's families were small-town shopkeepers from the same street. Luis's parents worked at a match factory; he was an alumnus of the same middle school as Tomas.

  Sienna was the outlier. Her family was from the prosperous city of Vandora. She had money, and at nineteen, she was two years older than the rest of them.

  "A family like that should have had the power to keep their child from ever joining the military. Elena truly couldn't understand it..."

  Elena already knew these people's stories. Listening to them bored her. She cushioned her seat with a blanket to soften the jolts and, before she knew it, fell asleep on Lucy's shoulder.

  As soon as she drifted off, Sienna started whispering bile. "Look at her. So 'weak' she has to lean on people just to sit in a cart."

  In reality, Sienna felt like throwing up too. She hadn't slept in the shelter or on the truck. She would have killed for a shoulder like Lucy's to lean on. But seeing Elena have what she didn't triggered her jealousy.

  "Hmph!"

  Lucy saw right through her. "What's it to you? Worry about your own body first. You can't even lift your own bags—I saw you making that soldier carry them for you earlier. Shameless!"

  "You..." Sienna glared at Lucy, ready to snap back, but she was so exhausted and nauseous she was afraid she'd fall asleep mid-argument. That would be too embarrassing.

  Besides, Sienna didn't want a full-blown war with Lucy yet. She wanted to drive a wedge between Lucy and Elena. Once Elena lost her "bodyguard," Sienna planned to pinch Elena's scrawny arms until they bruised.

  Seeing Sienna shut up, Lucy ignored her and focused on guarding the sleeping Elena.

  Lucy had her reasons for being so loyal. During the famine years, when everyone was starving, Elena used to steal eggs from her own home to give to Lucy. Lucy would take them home to her sick father for nourishment.

  Eggs.

  Since the total war broke out five years ago, Lucy had gone so long without one that she had almost forgotten what an egg even tasted like.

  Lucy knew that every time Elena got caught stealing eggs by her mother or sister, she was beaten mercilessly. Yet, she had kept doing it for five years.

  ...

  Thinking of this, Lucy's heart ached for her friend.

  The oxcart jolted along for another half hour before coming to a slow stop. Lucy nudged Elena awake. Elena opened her eyes, staring blearily at the scene that was both familiar and haunting.

  "This is as far as I go," the old driver said, gesturing for them to get off. "Solana is just ahead. The Captain should be waiting for you at the military office. You'll have to walk the rest of the way; I've got grain to haul."

  The rural road was barely wider than the cart. On either side were ditches and farmland buzzing with the frantic activity of the harvest. Farmers with carrying poles were rushing toward the threshing floor.

  The military office was only about three hundred meters away. The village consisted of a few scattered houses—black tiles and red walls, some with thatched roofs. The people living here were mostly the elderly or the sick; those who couldn't run and had endured the war until now.

  Three hundred meters wasn't far, but with their heavy luggage, it was going to be a struggle.

  "It's just a few steps! Why couldn't you just drop us at the door?" Sienna snapped at the old man. "Is this how people in Solana do things?"

  The driver was just a peasant, not a soldier, so Sienna didn't hold back her temper. She bullied him without a second thought.