He was sitting on a cheap plastic chair, the kind used for outdoor barbeques, next to a black-haired man the same age as him. 'Man' in this case may be a little generous, because lawfully they were, but in reality, neither of them was even old enough to buy a beer.
They were sitting inside a wooden watchtower, the kind made from lashed-together logs and branches, which overlooked a forest marking the border of their country. In his hands, he held a pair of night vision binoculars, which, unfortunately, were at least 20 years old and barely functioned.
His colleague had a semi-automatic marksman rifle in his possession, also from the same era as his binoculars. They were both using the rectangular plastic table, the same height as the watchtower walls, to rest their elbows and look for movement.
This was considered a pretty easy task for conscripts like them, as their neighbour hadn't come near their border for over 15 years, despite technically still being at war. That was why they were assigned these outdated guns; nobody ever expected them to need them, and replacing them was a waste of resources. This was basically just an assignment to give them something to do, so they didn't go crazy with boredom while on base.
As he scanned the treeline, he was engaging in conversation with his colleague as a way to pass the time. After some idle banter, the other man asked him a pretty personal question, which surprised him because his colleague normally never seemed interested in anything other than superficial small talk.
"Question for you, how did you end up in the military so young? I'm here because I couldn't get the grades to go to a university, so national service was my only choice, but you're pretty smart, that shouldn't have happened with you."
"I didn't really have a choice. I got the grades I needed and passed the interview stage; I even got a few offers to study, but I couldn't get a scholarship to go, so I couldn't defer my service."
In his country, gifted students could get government scholarships to university, which meant that in certain fields of study, their entire education, as well as room and board, would be taken care of for them, with the condition that they would work in a government sector for at least 5 years after graduation. If someone managed to get this scholarship and work in a government office, they were exempt from national military service, as their skills were being utilized elsewhere.
Without a scholarship, one could usually still attend university and take out a loan; again, depending on the course they graduated in and where they were hired after, they could completely avoid military service and go straight into working, especially in areas like medicine or civil engineering.
The man with the rifle took his eye off the scope and looked to his left, resting his chin on his upper arm while looking at his companion."Yeah, but that's why they have student loans, right? Even if your parents couldn't afford to send you, you could always borrow the money from the government and pay it back when you got a job; depending on the job, you could have even avoided coming to the army."
Still looking through the binoculars, the reply came, "If only it were that simple, that might be the case for most people, but not for me. I grew up as a ward of the state, an orphan, if you prefer that term, easier to understand. By the time I was applying to university, I had already lived in 5 or 6 different orphanages, and without a financial guarantor like a parent, even government loans are ..... our 10 o'clock, movement in the treeline"
He had spotted a flash movement with the ancient binoculars. Initially, he was pretty sure they were totally useless, but he had been wrong about that; they were just good enough to allow him to catch something in his sights. He had seen something in the treeline; it was pretty tall and bipedal. Seeing deer or other wildlife was pretty common when doing this duty, but something standing on two legs was not.
He decided that it would be best to call it in to the watch commander, so he made to grab for the radio that was on the floor next to his chair, but for some reason, he just couldn't get a hold of it. He turned to his colleague to request that he pass it to him, but the other man wasn't in his seat anymore; he was slumped down on the ground, blood and brain matter leaking out of a hole in his skull. With that image and the ringing in his ear suddenly becoming apparent, he realized they had taken fire, so he tried to grab for his colleague's rifle, which had fallen down beside him, but as he reached out his hand, his focus returned, and he realized why he hadn't been able to pick up the radio.
During his initial attempt to grab the radio, his right hand had been hit by enemy fire. The impact had taken off one of his fingers and deformed the rest of his appendage; it was a pretty gruesome sight. Twisted flesh and exposed bone filled his vision. His friend had also taken a bullet, but to the brain instead of the hand, and he realized there was nothing he could do for him other than get payback.
He grabbed the rifle using his non-dominant left hand, swung the muzzle over his busted right arm, and stood up so he could return fire towards the treeline, in the direction where he had previously seen movement. However, before he could even pull the trigger, everything closed in on him, and the last thought running through his head as his consciousness slipped away was, "I guess that's that, I'm dead."
-------------------------------------------
The ringing in his ears had stopped, and after accepting that he had died, he was pretty sure that he was now in the afterlife. He opened his eyes to see whether he had been sent to heaven or hell, and was quite surprised to realize that he was looking up into the faces of several giants. A woman in what appeared to be a maid's outfit was staring at him questioningly, and two other women were looking over him with tears in their eyes. Finally, a man with a short dark beard and blonde hair was staring at him with an expressionless look. Panicking, he tried to sit up so he could investigate his surroundings, but quickly realized that he could not even move; he felt weak and unstable. He tried to shout, but he couldn't form any words; only incoherent gibberish came out. But the giants around him seemed to have noticed his attempt to speak, and in response, they had all smiled at him warmly.
Thinking 'This can't be that right?', he continued observing his surroundings as best as possible.
He was clearly in a spacious room, filled with what appeared to be well-made and stylish furniture. It appeared to be the room of a fairly well-off household. He was currently in the arms of one of the women giants, while the others continued to stare and point fingers at him.
Slowly developing a theory, he raised his right arm and looked at his hand. The faces of the giants around him fell out of focus, and his own hand became the center of his attention; it was impossible to mistake that sight. He had a child's arm and hand.
The next few thoughts running through his head were 'I guess it wasn't truck-kun but bullet-kun. Well, at least this time around I don't seem to be an orphan, who knows, this might be fun.'