After he returned from battle

Cheers ring out from the dusty barracks. In a shift from the tense atmosphere on the eve of their operation, the soldiers now laugh easily with each other as they celebrate the great victory they have won.

"Cheers!"

Golden ale flows freely and without formality of rank. The men drain glass after glass, scarcely noticing how much they are spilling in the process. Their unit had secured a miraculous victory, and this party is their reward. But they are drunk on more than ale this night; they took on an impossible mission and came back alive, and this fact alone makes their heads swim and their speech giddy. Men brag of their accomplishments in battle. They brag about the beauty of their wives. Every lip is loosened and free. Apparently some of the soldiers even earned promotions for their valor on the mission.

But inside this bright atmosphere, a single young soldier sits apart from the others with a glum look on his face. He had infiltrated the enemy base alone — against the orders of his direct commander — and slain the enemy captain. Though their victory was due in large part to this deed, his actions were still troubling. No matter how well it had turned out, he had ignored a direct order from a superior; a court-martial would be unsurprising. That he did so because of a personal grudge is perhaps the most troubling fact of all. By all rights, he should have died on that battlefield. But his life was saved by his fellow soldiers — and especially by the quick thinking and bravery of the very captain whose orders he was so quick to disregard.

Regardless, the boy sits alone, not bothering to thank the men around him or share a meal or drink. His mind is still back with the enemy commander. The same man who killed his parents so long ago. After years of chasing him, the boy had finally cornered his target and plunged his weapon into his heart, along with all of his hate. But the fall of the curtain on his revenge was hollow. He felt no exhilaration. No accomplishment. Instead, he was left with the empty bones of a past he could never reclaim. With that gloomy sadness filling the boy's head, the dying enemy captain spoke to him. He told the boy something that turned everything he'd ever believed on its head. And now, he sits among his celebrating fellows and replays the words over and over again in his mind:

The secret of my birth. My past. My true father. It is so farfetched as to stretch the bounds of credulity, and yet he is unable to set it aside.

The boy stares blankly into space. The drink in his hand has long since grown warm, but he pays it no mind. Suddenly, a brawny soldier approaches him. Ignoring his troubled state, he plops down beside him with a most inconsiderate thud. This man had always treated the boy harshly — more like an enemy than a fellow soldier in the ranks.

"You here to pick another fight?" asks the boy. He can't even bother to lift his head for the query, feeling all the more gloomy from the man's presence.
"Fight? No, boy. I'm damn proud of you."

The boy is shocked to hear actual praise coming from the man. So shocked that he looks up in spite of himself. There's a slight hint of envy in the words, as if the man wishes he had the guts to disobey orders and sneak off to kill the enemy. Regardless, the boy finds the compliment embarrassing. Quickly lowering his head to hide the flush on his cheeks, he stands and makes his way to the exit.

"Goin' for a piss, there?" asks the brawny man. The boy gives a vague response and ducks outside.

Night has fallen on the land. The silence is so perfect — especially when compared to the chaos of the barracks — that it causes his ears to ring. Camaraderie and banter did not come easily to him by nature, but that is not the reason for his discomfort this night. He has so many things to think about. And here, in the dark, his thoughts are free to run rampant. He stands there for a long time, until a sound finally causes him to turn around. An injured soldier is behind him, leaning on a crutch. He looks at the boy and cuts straight to the point:

"So, what were you doing in the enemy camp?"

The night had deepened, the surroundings now fully dark. Faint light streams out from the windows of the barracks. The soldiers inside were still busy drinking and boasting. But here, away from all the sound and bluster, two fellow soldiers face each other in silence. The boy studies his unexpected visitor. He is young, with strong features and a shock of blond hair. But his most noticeable characteristics are his blue eyes, which seem to shine with their own inner light. The boy usually pays no mind to the appearance of others, but even he remembered that distinguishing feature. He is one of the soldiers who received a promotion. Recalling that, the boy's puzzlement only grows. Gazing upon the soldier before him, he thinks back on the question he was asked.

He asked me what I was doing in the base.
We're not even particularly close, so why is he starting this conversation with me?
And why did he wait until we were alone to approach me?

"I can't answer you unless I know why you're asking."
The blue-eyed soldier stares back at him.

Then, after a moment, he begins to tell his tale.

"We were part of the operation."
"My squad arrived at the camp after you killed the commander."
"The enemy was in total disarray, and we were able to dispatch the stragglers with relative ease."
"Once that was done, we searched their camp."
"And guess what I found?"
"A confidential file marked with the crest of our army."
"Naturally, I was curious how this ended up in enemy hands, so I picked it up to take a closer look."
"But before I could open it, someone attacked me from behind and knocked me unconscious."
"When I woke up, the file was gone."
"But here's the thing: We neutralized the enemy soldiers — every last one of them. So who the hell attacked me?"

The boy starts.
"Are you saying I attacked you?"

The other soldier locks his blue eyes on the boy.

"That's my guess, yeah."
"I mean, you disobeyed orders, right? Infiltrated the camp and killed the commander all by your lonesome?"
"Even you have to admit that's suspicious."
"So I'll ask you again: What were you doing in the enemy base?"

When the boy finally speaks again, he chooses his words carefully. He tells the blue-eyed soldier how his parents had been killed when he was young. How the killer was the enemy commander. How he became a soldier specifically to find that man and end his life. And how he didn't care if he would end up court-martialed, because his revenge would be worth any price.

The blue-eyed soldier remains silent. It's as if he's trying to discern the truth in the boy's words.

Silence settles between the two soldiers. In the quiet, the boy thinks about his comrade's story.

He found one of our confidential files in the enemy base.
But before he could read it, someone attacked him and stole it.
Someone from our army.
Is that file related to what the enemy commander told me?
Does it relate to our country's past? And does it hold the answers I need?

After a bit, the blue-eyed soldier nods and turns away, apparently satisfied that the boy is innocent.

"Wait!" cries the boy.
The man stops.

"What happened to the file?"
"Well, if my suspicions are correct and it was taken by one of us, it should be in the vault here at the base."

He then turns back to the boy and adds:
"But don't go getting any stupid ideas."
"You already disobeyed orders once, and it won't go well if you do it again. So just keep your head down, okay?"

He then departs, limping away on his crutch. But his warning falls on deaf ears. For the boy would do anything to know what is in that file.

Why did he tell me that story in the first place?
He clearly thinks we have a traitor in our midst.
He made contact in hopes of finding out who it is, so maybe we can form a partnership and...

The boy lets this thought marinate in his mind for a bit before suddenly rejecting it. If the file does contain the secret of his birth, he doesn't want anyone else knowing about it. He begins to formulate a plan. The blue-eyed soldier is likely correct: If the file was stolen by a traitor, it would be located in the vault.

Their base is a large, sprawling complex with many buildings. There are barracks, a training ground, a reference library... And the vault, which is only accessible to a select group of people. Now in the library, the boy finds himself staring at a set of blueprints for the base. Coated in dust and weathered away to a dim yellow color, they seem ready to fall apart in his hands. But he finds the part he wants, carefully tears it away, and quickly sidles out of the room. It is the route to the vault.

The boy makes his way to the changing room. But not to don a disguise. Instead, he climbs on top of a locker and removes a dusty wire panel covering an exhaust duct. A duct that leads to the vault. He always cursed his small physique, but is now thrilled to have it. Drawing his shoulders tight, he manages to squeeze inside. Holding his flashlight between his cheek and his shoulder, he wriggles his way forward like an inchworm. Every movement brings a new puff of dust or a cobweb brushing against his face. He struggles desperately against the urge to cough. But just as he is about to lose hope...

...he arrives at his destination. According to the blueprints, the vault is directly below him. With a sigh of relief, he reaches out to the wire panel. But he can't get it free. Anger suddenly races through him, and he makes a rash decision.

Applying all of his strength to it, he shoves the panel until it breaks apart with a crack loud enough to wake the dead. The boy scans the inside of the vault, certain that he has alerted a guard or triggered some kind of alarm. The only source of light is a dimly illuminated exit sign.

When no one comes to investigate, the boy lets out a sigh of relief. Wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, he lowers himself down. The vault is filled with row after row of metal shelves. Each shelf has a number, with contents organized by date and type, such as confidential documents or artifacts claimed from the enemy. The boy roams through the rows, shining his light here and there. He checks dates on the confiscated items and opens any file that seems like it might be relevant to his interests. Finally, he stumbles across a folder with the word "Confidential" stamped across it.

It also contains the seal of their army. Just like the one from the other soldier's tale.
The boy takes a deep breath and opens it. The words inside immediately draw his eye:
"INFANT ABDUCTION STRATEGY"

His heart begins to race. With a single trembling finger, he reaches out and slowly turns the page.

It is a complete accounting of his country's actions. The plan was designed to create powerful soldiers. They researched genes from people across the world, looking for those with the traits they sought. Before long, they had a pool of possible recruits. Once an infant was found from a desired genetic line, they were kidnapped and raised as one of their own citizens. Everything the enemy commander had told him was true. And with each line he reads, the boy's long-held beliefs collapse. It is a pain unlike anything he has ever felt.

Here, in the darkest part of his nation, the boy has uncovered the harshest of truths.
The file. The vault. His history. The "Infant Abduction Strategy." The words of his hated enemy.

The words on the page. It was all coming together. His head reels. His chest tightens. He feels like he is about to faint.

But he does not. More precisely, he will not. Because he had to avoid the blade of the knife that is racing up behind him. Perhaps it is the boy's natural instincts that warn him; perhaps the superior genes that were mentioned in the file. Regardless, he twists his head to the side and narrowly avoids having it separated from his shoulders. The weapon is a military-issue combat knife. His attacker is a man in a mask. A thin ribbon of blood oozes down his neck where the knife had brushed it. 

Though the boy does not understand what is happening, his training takes over and he readies himself for a fight. His attacker had hoped to kill the boy from behind, which meant his plan was already falling apart. Taking advantage of this brief lapse, the boy twists to the side and spins around to face his attacker. He grabs his arm by the elbow and wrist, locking it in place. Then he shoves the man into a nearby wall and tears off his mask.

To reveal... A pair of beautiful blue eyes. The boy is stunned for the briefest of moments. But it is enough. The attacker twists his arm from the boy's grasp and backs away from him.

"Well, that was damn unlucky," says the man.
"Or maybe you're just better than I thought."
"Also, I thought I told you not to get any stupid ideas."

It was true: the man had given him a warning. But the boy had ignored it, and now they were facing off once more. This time, there would be no talk. No parley. Instead, only one of them would leave the vault alive. The blue-eyed soldier snarls at the boy. It is a sound of anger, sadness, and indecision.

"Do you think I WANTED to do this!?"
"You think I WANTED to stab a fellow soldier in the back!?"

The blue-eyed man then tells the boy a shocking truth: The chatter at the party about the "blue-eyed guy being promoted" was based on a lie. He had actually been transferred to the national intelligence corps. There, he was ordered to feign injury while eliminating anyone who might threaten state secrets. One of those targets was the boy, who had attracted attention when he ignored orders and entered the enemy camp alone. His superiors ordered him to test the boy by revealing confidential information in order to see where his true loyalties lay.

"Goddammit," breathes the man when his tale is done.
"GODDAMMIT!"

His emotions take hold, and he lunges at the boy. But the younger soldier calmly dodges the blow and takes a couple of steps back, waiting for an opportunity to deploy the small knife he has hidden on his person.

You came here expecting prey, thinks the boy. But in the end, I am the one hunting you.

The man screams and lunges at the boy again, but the attack is sloppy and easily dodged. As his foe lumbers past, the boy pulls his knife from its sheath and draws it across the man's throat. The blue-eyed man falls to his knees, gasping. He presses his hands against his throat, but the blood simply courses through his fingers. As his heartbeat slows, he leans against a wall and slowly slumps to the floor. The light in his beautiful blue eyes dims. The boy gazes into them quietly.

He does so for a very long time. When he finally comes back to reality, the man is no longer breathing. Sheets of paper from the file are scattered at his feet. He picks up one blood-soaked page and looks it over. It is a list of all the children who had been abducted. The plan had been in place for some time, long enough that many of his superiors and fellow soldiers were likely victims of it. They had been stolen from other countries, incorporated into a new nation, and given fake lives — just as he had been. Unable to collect his chaotic thoughts, he finds himself presented with a cruel truth: By killing a man who was supposed to be on his side, he finds himself with nothing left to trust. Not his country, not his fellow soldiers, and not even himself.

Anger. Sadness. Unease. Fear. Hate.

All these emotions swirl and churn in his heart.
"So then... What should I live for?"

The words that spill from his quivering lips are quickly swallowed up by the darkness.