When the not-so-small stone weighed heavily on the body covered with mottled scars, it had been a long time since the unfortunate guy, who was already covered in bruises, finally woke up and barely regained a trace of consciousness.
"Uh, damn it! I, I, this is."
He wanted to raise his arms and try to move, but found that doing so was in vain, and he became even more unable to move.
The cause of this problem is obvious. The stone pressing on the chest not only makes the entire lungs feel breathless, but also makes the heart feel like it is tightly grasped. What's more, the moment it is hit, the body subconsciously covers the chest to protect it.
The right hand cannot move at all.
"Damn it. Is there anyone? Is anyone alive? Hey! Hey!!!"
The increasingly clear consciousness has been able to organize clearer language, blurting it out without thinking and subconsciously, using the last strength to seek help from the surrounding environment where even personal hair can't be seen.
But it was only after the cry for help was shouted out that the unlucky guy called for rescue discovered it with the subconscious movement of his head.
The surrounding environment that should have been so familiar to us has long been changed beyond recognition because of the terrible apocalyptic judgment that descended above our heads.
The place directly above the head where the dome should have been was now completely open, like a window paper that had been smashed by a fist and had a big hole punched through it.
The steel bars that were forcibly broken by the strong external force were hanging so abruptly in the broken cement blocks. Even the broken steel bars themselves were connected to large or small concrete slag blocks, hanging in the air.
That shaky formation doesn't know when it will collapse suddenly because it can no longer hold up.
What shines in from the huge hole above the head is not the sunlight from the outside, but the burning flames erupting from the inside out, almost completely covering the mouth of the hole. Only the scorching fire light mixed with wisps of sunlight shines down, piercing the ground.
My eyes hurt and I could hardly see straight.
The huge flaming mouth is like the gate of hell, and even now it is still spitting something down.
The unlucky man who was pinned under the rocks and unable to move took a closer look and discovered that they were broken concrete fragments and slag from the top of the air defense tower, as well as some metal fragments that were part of unknown objects. They were burning fiercely.
The attached flame enchantment falls straight down.
In a tower that was in a mess and was blown to pieces, such a scene in a confined space was like a rain of fire above the head. Even if it touched even a little, it would instantly make the upper body irritated.
"Damn it! I. I need to get out of here uhhhhh-"
The left hand that was still able to move, and was the only one that could move, was raised with all its strength, and pressed against the heavy concrete block pressing on the chest. Amidst the hysterical roar, he then used up all his strength to try to lift it.
Push it away and get away.
But not all efforts and efforts in this world can yield results, but if you don’t even dare to work hard and make efforts, then there will be no possibility of success.
Unfortunately, the unlucky guy who was pinned down by the concrete block belongs to the former. His efforts did not reap the rewards he wanted. With his bruises all over his body and the use of only one arm, it is really difficult for him to perform miracles.
This thing on my chest was pushed away.
The heaven and earth are not responding to each other, and the earth and the earth are not functioning properly.
Whether he called for help or tried to escape on his own, the unlucky man who was pinned down by a large piece of collapsed concrete tried every possible method, but there was no way to save his life.
His consciousness is gradually blurring, and there seems to be a stream of heat flowing slowly outward from his chest.
The unlucky guy, who seemed to be able to feel the life flowing out of his body, gave up.
At what should be the last moment of his life, he no longer chose to call for help, shout, call for help, or try to escape by himself. Instead, he used his only left arm that could still move to reach out from his trouser pocket.
The cigarette case and lighter were put together.
"Hey, I can't decide when I'm going to die, but it's nice to be able to decide when I'm going to smoke my last cigarette."
It is really difficult to put the cigarettes in the cigarette box into your mouth with just one arm.
He licked his lips that were chapped due to lack of water and heat. After trying several times, he finally took out a cigarette from the cigarette case held in his left hand and stuck it in his mouth.
With his left hand, he casually put down the cigarette case that he would never use again in his life, pressed the pulley of the lighter held in his palm, rubbed the flint and ignited the fire.
hiss--
call--
"Uh-huh. It's finally over. I've had enough. Finally, finally."
Thick and slow smoke rises from the half-open mouth and is slowly spit out.
There are many people who hate this war, not only those who are on the front line and have suffered from the war, but also the young adjutants who have been staying in a relatively safe environment in the rear.
Why do you hate this war, you ask?
To be honest, the young adjutant himself didn't know.
However, it must be related to the fact that among his classmates who graduated at the same time, he is the only one who has been able to contact him and is still alive alone.
Accustomed to seeing families broken up and people in tears, the young adjutant thought about why and for what this happened many times and couldn't find the answer. In the end, he simply didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about it, and avoided thinking.
There will be no result anyway, and even if there is a result, I can't do anything with my own strength, just like I can't push away the concrete block that is pressing on my chest and is about to take away my life.
It's ironic to say that the young adjutant once thought that if someone could stand up and lead him to find a way to change the tragedy, that would be fine, and it might be a kind of salvation for him.
But no one came to save my life in the past, and there is still no one to save my life now.
"Fuck the world, fuck the war, it's all fucking bullshit, all of it."
He muttered words that had no constructive meaning but could vent the truest emotions in his heart. He flicked off the last bit of ash from the cigarette end and put down the butt of the cigarette that was almost burning on his fingers.
It's hard to say that I'm unwilling, nor that I'm satisfied. In short, it will probably end in such a confusing way that I can't understand, and it will bring an end to my short life, just like around me, this era, and many people around the world.
Like many young people of the same age.
"Perhaps Gotze is right. This is the life of our generation. We cannot escape it and it is destined to be like this. We can only accept it in the end."
I recalled a familiar face that had been buried in the ground for a long time. I felt that the face in my mind suddenly came to life. It was smiling warmly at me and stretching out my hand, just like in the school days.
One sunny afternoon, he invited himself to play football, and the young adjutant finally slowly closed his eyes.
"You're not dead yet, boy! Cheer up and open your eyes, soldier!"