Chan tries to wipe off the mud caked over his face, soaked in by the blood from the abandon blast of a land mine going off a few minute ago. The blood was thankfully not his. A wild boar had chased him a bit in the forest that had given him the sensation of tight chest pains. His breath was deep and shallow, hard to stay awake. Of the war didn’t take his life, neather would nature itself. “I’ve been through hell, I won’t go to it…” he whispered as his eyes started to cloud up. “Not again.”

A second has past, and what was a clear vibrant grasslands with patches of flowers near the hill, was now covered in a dense gray fog bank all over the area. “Oh god, the hills are ruined.” Chan spoke aloud in fright, grabbing his handaxe as the only thing that would protect him from what he thought was an invasion from the north. After the war, he was the only soldier from the troops that died in the jungles from traps of spikes and wires, and napbalms of burning flesh burning in the air. Instead he smelled of candles and clean air in the mist.

“I thought I lived through this and made it out as alone. The devils never leave me alone did they? That boar was a set up.” His elderly face felt smooth as he was straighting his glasses, realized that the glasses and muddy up face were all gone. “What’s going on?”

“Brother…” A familiar and long forgotten voice was heard behind Chan. The old man freak as he looked behind him, with a flicker of a figure he could see from a distant. “Who goes there?” “How have you been my brother?” Said the voice again. This time shuffling steps and clicks of boots were heard straight on through. Chan realized who that voices once belonged to. “Sam.” His throat could not countinue, but he clear up with a cough. “Sam Min-Su. Your alive?” He wanted to cry a bit, but for what ever reason his eyes remain clear. “Ounce my friend, ounce…” Sam replied back, his shadowy frame becoming closer and closer within each step.

Two other figures came behind him with a tourch and a flute being played in calming tone. The reminded Chan of the others with Sam of his troop. “Sam is that Kae and Eoh? They can’t be here, they were crushed by the trees from-“ He stop himself when he realized where he was at now. He was crossing over to the land of the dead. And the guilt was building up to his chest.

“Do not worry my old friend…” Kae spoke softly, as if he was back on the front lines again with energy to spare. “You’ll be safe here. Back with your brothers and family lost to the war.”

Sam has his hands reached out to Chan within his reach. “Come brother, you family is waiting. You mother, father, and dear sister has been waiting for you again.” Sam spoke in a more cheery voice to a crying Chan.

“I can’t do this Sam, I don’t deserve this treatment?” Whine Chan on the spot, his head ducking down into a bow of forgiveness to his dead comrades. “We lost the war, the country has been split for half a century, I head home in shame and anger for losing you all on the field, I can’t, I-“

Hands grab his shoulders and lifted him up slowly to his feet. “I can’t blame you for that, I’m anger with the north lands too. But your times up, and we all have missed you so much for that time together with the villages.” Chan body had now felt true relief for the first time in decades, long after the physical conflict had ended. “Let’s go home Chan. Go in peace.” Sam’s face shown through the fog, face to face with Chans. No blood, no gunshot wounds, no infections covering his arm.

Chan took a few deep breaths and let the pain and sadness past over him. “Ok, I’m good.” He said with confidence. His next steps was making it through the fog bank of the afterlife with his deaf old friends. “Finally, bliss.”