American Chimera – 20.2

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Let’s get this straight: war is hell. I’m convinced that when all us shitty people die, we’re going to be thrown into Verdun or Stalingrad or My Lai or Pyongyang as punishment.

I can tell you, without doubt, that Pyongyang was the worst place anyone could have been at the time of the battle. I was there, in three different places – where my body was, and where each of my two drones were. If I wasn’t fighting, my drones were. My cranial implant fed into information from all over the battlefield and couldn’t be turned off by anyone but my superior. It was bloodbath and artillery fire at all times. The tactics at the time weren’t prepared to fight monsters that wouldn’t die from a few shots. We weren’t ready to deal with soldiers who had to watch their siblings in arms ripped apart, raped, and eaten in front of broken down drone cameras.

I watched an ape-man literally fuck my boyfriend’s throat after beheading him. I couldn’t turn my drone’s eyes away. It was broken…I couldn’t move.

Combined arms could do nothing against the cyber-psychological shithole.

It was hell.

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