# Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, locations, and events depicted in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This story contains themes such as death, existentialism, power, and moral ambiguity. Reader discretion is advised.
The views and actions of the characters do not reflect those of the author.
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Prologue
Planet Earth, their home planet, in which billions of Earthlings resided, but all of them were nothing but equal, besides their physical appearance, which was a clear reminder of every unique human living here. Even if they looked the same, no one knew what was in the mind of another. This was the beauty of the human, or was it?
Few had the power to move nations with their words alone, and some, in contrast to the majesty of these few, couldn't even decide their own destiny.
Alexander Velmora, son of Richard Velmora, a veteran who had served during the World War II era. Richard wasn't a high-ranking official whose name could be known by many but a person of strong belief in justice, with a role as a mere small squad leader in Allied Forces.
Even if he wasn't too well known to many, Alexander Velmora from a small age had admired his father, who certainly was no less than a hero to him for contributing to protecting their homeland. As he grew up, he listened to heroic tales of his father through his mouth, which was but truth; however, not all the things were being told to little Alexander in these heroic stories. as something was not being told to him for his own good.
Little Alexander didn't care how small or big his father's role might be, but to him, he would always be a role model, and he wanted to be just like his great father when he grew up and protect his country just like he did.
Alexander, when he expressed his thoughts of being just like him, a soldier who would fight for his country, instead of his expectation of strong approval from his father, didn't get any sort of reply at a young age; however, young Alexander wasn't able to understand the worry in his father's eyes when he had said those innocent words.
Richard thought his son would one day forget about these things, as he didn't want his young son to see the horror of actual war and see how much destruction and sadness it brought to the land.
Just the thought of his innocent and bright son seeing the horrible things he had seen brought chills to his heart.
While he was proud of the fact that he had protected his own country in a time of crisis, it didn't change the facts about the horrible things that happened during a war.
Alexander, as he grew more and more and became more mature, still had the same feeling of respect toward his father and a strong sense of duty toward his homeland, but he was not as eager as before to become a soldier.
Other than becoming a soldier like his father and joining the military, he had one other dream while growing up, which was equally as important as his desire to serve his country.
In both his dreams there was one thing that was common: that was his desire to help his own country, which he was so proud of, just like his father.
While growing up, young Alexander's devotion toward his country never wavered; however, there was something he wasn't happy about. Not unlike the average teenage boy who was much more into social interaction on the internet, he would still do so once in a while to see what was happening in the world and in his beloved country.
As for the rest of the day, he would usually train his body for the fateful day he would finally join the military; he couldn't slack off when he knew what he wanted.
Like his father, he was a tall and handsome young man, inheriting the same surname as his father, the 'Velmora.' His father had mentioned a few times that the surname he had was inherited from his great-great-great-grandmother, who was from a British aristocratic family and had fallen in love with his great-great-great-grandfather when she came to the US, their homeland.
He questioned his father about this more, but he didn't get anything more from him, and as it looked, he genuinely didn't know much more about this. At that time, like a normal kid, he started to dream of being related to the royal family of the United Kingdom or having some immense wealth there.
As if reading his mind, his father answered him the next moment without even asking.
"Don't daydream now, son. I was just like you when I was young. I also had this thought of being someone and thought there must be immense wealth waiting for me in the United Kingdom."
A small sigh escaped his mouth as Richard thought of his past younger self, who had traveled so far and wide to find his inheritance, only to learn that they were only a small aristocrat who went to ruins, which led to his great-great-great-grandmother coming here and starting a new life, and they had no inheritance to speak of.
Still, finding out about those things gave him peace of mind, and more importantly, he could never forget Mary, his wife, whom he had met there for the first time.
Even if she was still not here with him, just the thought of her made a smile come to his old face.
He continued. "We were just a forgotten aristocratic family with no wealth to speak of."
Richard could see little disappointment in his young son's eyes, which made him continue with a strong grip on his shoulders, his green eyes looking directly into his son's innocence-filled eyes.
"Our name might not come with gold or power, but it carried something greater—endurance. Wealth faded, and empires fell, but those who refused to break would always rise again. So stop sulking and start making your own path."
"The path you so wished to walk for yourself, not the one I had walked but something your own heart desired."
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Reminiscing about the words that had caused his young self to dream about something other than being a soldier just like his father, and that dream was so absurd that he even thought he was a little crazy for thinking that, but whatever it was, this was the thing he really wanted.
For the past years, he had seen with his own eyes what things were happening in his own country, and he was not pleased by them at all. He was not the one who would wait around and hope that things would get better; instead, he would do everything he had to to make his dream possible, even if it seemed so far away.
However, before he could take any step toward his dream of becoming the president of one of the strongest countries in the world, his homeland, which he was proud to be born in, the USA.
Something happened, something big, which made him make a big decision in his life, which he later regretted a lot in his life but even learned many things from.
If he had known that his father would pass away during the time he was away, he would have just stayed with him like Father wanted him to at first when he mentioned joining the military at such a time.
In the end, his strong desire had caused his father to give up and allow him to join the military like how he wanted.
He still remembered his stern last words before parting with a tight hug from him.
"Alexander Velmora, my son, make sure to come back alive, or I will come find you even in the depths of hell."
His words had made him realize how his father knew that he was going to join the actual chaos happening right now, and he was excited to fight for his country.
He kept his promise; however, his father, who was the one who was not here to meet him when he came home, Alexander had relief in his heart knowing that his father wasn't here to see the horrible condition he was in right now, as he would surely get angry over it.
However, the amount of sadness he was feeling right now due to not being here for him when he needed him the most hurt his heart so much that even the pain from the bullet fell short after this.
He cried the whole night standing in front of his grave with a broken arm and a few bullet holes in his body while saluting in front of the empty tombstone, standing straight without moving in his military uniform while repeating these words.
"I… I a—am ba..ck s—ir."
Alexander's whole body was still aching from injuries he had gotten during his last battle, but this pain was still a speck of dust in front of the tearing pain his fragile heart was having.
He had so many questions to ask his father, who was a World War II veteran, and even some resentment as to why he hadn't told him about how the actual war was going to be.
It wasn't as heroic as he had expected it to be.
But right now he only wanted to see him one last time, his stern face and the proud stance of him, which made him want to be just like him.
A last hug would be enough to calm an erratic heart.
The guard had already noticed the state in which a lone soldier was in the graveyard, as the time for closing the graveyard was already over and all the other people had already left.
He left without disturbing the young man and even decided to guard the graveyard for the time the young soldier was here, as even he could feel the intense sadness from here; he didn't mind not getting less sleep tonight.