The Sun Never Rises

POV: Recruit 79

'Ah shit!'

'Why does this armor have to be so suffocating?'

Popping in the shoulder plates brought with it a sharp pain, one that despite how many times it happened—I could never grow accustom.

The rain hit the ground hard, pummeling into the wet mud below.

My handmade sabatons, a pair of which I was able to hold a bit of pride in myself, sunk deep into mud. Despite the irritation I felt over such a little nuisance, I kept my composure. Otherwise, I might as well just give a good knock at death's door myself.

The muffled chatter around me came to a screeching halt in a matter of a second as the presence of the general became aware.

His footsteps, while silent, still could be heard from across the entire base.

Feeling a bit of an itch, I look downwards, causing my body to slack just a touch—a rookie mistake, I might add.

I felt the force of a clawed gauntlet slap against my face, purposefully loose. If it had contained any more blow, I might've just gotten knocked to the ground.

Stiffening my body instantly as the instant regret flushed my soul, I look back upwards. The general stood right before me. Although clouded by his mask, his expression underneath was clear. He was not happy, and I completely understand.

I was caught off guard, and that can never happen.

Especially for someone like me, who strives to become a servant of the New Empire.

"State your rank and number this instant," the general spat, towering over me. I trembled slightly, but managed to push through and keep myself together for just a moment.

"I am a new recruit! Tagged 79, sir!" I reply, nearly stuttering in the process.

Instead of replying, the general let the light of the blood moon shine gracefully over the katana that rested on his back, making sure that I saw it and understood what could happen if I was caught out of line again.

He stood before me for many moments after, causing me to start sweating profusely. Why was he still here, standing in front of me?

I was relieved not long after, as he began walking away soon after.

A sharp pain attacked my wrist, similarly to the one I experienced earlier while popping in pieces of my armor, except this one was unrelenting.

Steering my eyes slightly down, I notice my wrist had bore a pretty deep cut in just the crack between my rusted gauntlets and my vambrace pieces, blood dripping slightly down and splattering into the ground, joining the rain.

Looking back at attention, I notice the general's katana that was still sheathed, was slightly poking out. It was surely not like this before, at least when I noticed it just a few moments ago.

'When did he—' My thoughts interrupted as the general cleared his throat.

"Who do you swear your allegiance to?" He shouted, almost shaking the ground.

"Emperor Zhang!" We all shouted in unison, more particularly noticing that the rain has begun to come down even harder now.

"Who will make the sun shine down upon us again?" His voice echoed.

"Emperor Zhang!" We shouted once more, this time louder to generate more feedback for the general. We all didn't want to be here, but we didn't want to accept the consequences from any of the higher ranks.

You see, he wasn't the emperor.

He was simply trying to become the emperor, like many.

As far as I can recall, I've always served under Emperor Zhang... or Zhang. This group—The New Order, it's all I've ever known, and will know.

"Now, you guys are probably wondering why we have you all here," the general began explaining with his scratchy voice. "In fact, the Emperor himself called for this audience, an important announcement to be made indeed."

"The Emperor is looking for his new right hand man, the man to stand beside him in his journey to rule over it all," he finally finished after taking a moment to pause.

Voices erupted from around us. While kept to a low, everybody began mumbling—to themselves, and others around them.

"The Emperor doesn't need another man!"

"—I be the right hand?"

"Silence!" The general yelled, this time his voice causing my ears to ring—maybe even bleed if I hadn't had seen it coming.

The sound of metal clanking followed as everyone rushed to stand at attention once more, some being quicker than others as a sense of urgency creeped up everyone's spines. Nobody wants to piss this guy off...

'Why wouldn't he be the right hand? Is that why he's extra stiff today?' I asked myself.

Two servants seemed to magically appear beside him, coming in from the shadows beyond. They carried a pedestal and some sort of book to place on it.

"If you wish to participate in the race for the position, please step up and write your name down onto the book. That is all," The general snapped before quickly turning himself away, scurrying out as fast as possible.

I watched as people pushed and shoved, attempting to make it over to the book quicker almost as if it was gonna run away from them.

Almost as if the horde never ended, I kept getting pushed and shoved around until I ultimately fell to the ground, whiplash as my head hit the hard, wet ground and slung back upwards.

My vision became blurry, but only for a second.

I noticed a few people laughing—at me, it seems. I didn't mind too much.

"Don't even think about putting your name on that list!" One of them shouted.

While most of us in attendance were recruits, like me, that didn't exactly measure our difference in strength properly.

They were miles stronger than me, and the only thing I matched them with was in rank... which for many of them, would change really soon.

And for one of them, they'd become the right hand.

***

I watched as time flew by quite fast, standing around—loitering. I wanted to put my name on the book, but what would everybody think when they see me do it?

How would I have a chance?

It wasn't a matter of talent or proper training at this level.

I was always the weakest in the room, hell—the entire militia base for all that matters.

Watching as the last person signed his name, I began walking over to the book, taking my time to ensure nobody is around.

Looking over, I notice one last spot remaining on the list.

I hesitated, of course. Anybody in my spot would, right? It was the only logical thing. I couldn't bare another defeat anymore, it would simply just be unbearable. 'I have to try, for the Emperor, of course,' I remind myself hopefully.

Without thinking any longer, I quickly wrote my name down in the last remaining spot, feeling my stomach tie in knots just as the afterthought kicked in.

"What's done is done," I said aloud.

"What's that?" Another recruit spoke. The voice was still slightly distorted via the rain, but I could still tell it was close by.

I looked behind, but got slapped clean across the face, reminding me of what the general did to me earlier in front of everyone. I fell to the ground hard, creating a loud thud.

My face was evidently bleeding, noticing my blood drip into the wet mud below.

"Sorry about that, just had to gauge the strength of my fellow competitors," the recruit said sarcastically, holding back a laugh.

Another recruit came over and kicked me in the chest, knocking me back down just as I attempted to pull myself back up.

"Well, that wasn't much of a fight," he laughed, not afraid to let it out.

They began circling around me, as I watched another gauntlet enter my view and into my face, causing me to silently shriek as I fell to my back again.

After I refused to humor them with an answer, they began walking away, chatting amongst themselves. About me, of course, and there wasn't anything I could really do against it, that much was true.

More droplets fell to the ground as I flipped myself over onto my stomach, even raising myself up a bit with my knees.

I must be bleeding still, what a shame... but these aren't red.

Ah, I was crying.

That made more sense I suppose.