1 Two Times is One Time Too Many

My name is Captain Julius Caesar Ross. My father was a roman historian and named all off his children after famous roman figures. My sister's name is Octavia for Christ's sake. But, I am rambling, although there isn't much to do here anyways. As a child, my father taught us roman history and war tactics from a young age from all cultures. And when we found out that my IQ was 145, he took it to a whole now level. Throughout our childhoods, The Art of War and The Prince were books that were often quoted and quizzed by my father. When we asked him why he always had the same answer. "Much is asked of some generations, and of others much is given. To my generation, much was given. And weak generations make problems for the next. And those problems always lead to war." And he was right. I graduated highschool at 16, got my master at 20, and joined the military at 21 as a strategist. And war began. North Corea launch missiles at Europe and America with support for Country Xia. For 3 long years, the world tore itself apart. In the end, the western countries won, but at a terrible cost. The eastern countries dropped EMPs all around the world and devastated the economy which caused widespread anarchy. I was part of the elite group of strategists tasked with reconstructing society. Unfortunately, a terrorist group found out about us and our base was attacked. We were brought out side and executed. However, not before web got the internet back online. So here we are, in this black space with nothing in it but me. I mean it's not really that bad. It's warm and comfy actually. Wait, what the... am I being pushed out? Wha..huh. Light. Oh my god, it is light! Holy fuxk. That's a... no, god please, no!

"Congratulations it is a boy"

An elderly woman said but the only thing I could was scream and try to forget the experience of being born again.