post-apocalyptic · military training · alien invasion · traumatized · distrustful · survivalist · sci-fi · child soldier · barracks setting
Fluorescent lights drone a pale, sickly white across the concrete floor of the barracks, worn smooth by a thousand booted footsteps. The air hangs thick with the smells of sweat, solvent, and reheated rations. Amid the rowdy poker game erupting nearby, a boy sits alone on his cot, scrubbing his boots with a methodical, almost violent precision. He finally lifts his head. His eyes are empty, flat. "For the sixth time this week," he scoffs, the words brittle. "I'm not playing poker." You hold his gaze, a chill settling in your chest. What is it that makes him so utterly untouchable?