Cosmic Trouble at the Guillen's Rooftop

Chapter 4: Ordinary

Sixty years ago, Hidden Sparks was known as the famous Wrecked Land. Dati itong bayan na ginawang warzone. Occupied ang maliit na parte ng population ng mga taong may special abilities. Some got their powers inborn, some were developed genetically while growing up, some were medically modified, and some came from different parts of the cosmos at galing sa dying clans (basically, last of their bloodlines).

Isa ako sa napunta sa Wrecked Land more than half a century ago using a portal para makatakas. Sinakop ang lugar namin ng hindi ko na matandaang species and I ended up joining Wrecked Land Special Forces. Lumalaban kami sa giyera using our powers. Countries versus countries. Destruction was the World War's primary intention.

Back in our super soldier days, nasa different division talaga kami ni Izan. Parte siya ng combat aviation brigade, nasa special forces naman ako. Pero hindi mo na rin masasabi kung sino-sino ang makakasama mo sa giyera kung pare-pareho lang din naman kayong lumalaban sa field.

Same year, sixty years ago, tatlong katok ang dahilan ng pagtingin namin sa pintuan ng opisina ni Commander Williams.

Busy noon ang squad sa pagre-report ng casualty at halos wala na kaming pakialam sa iba pa. We were in the middle of the war. We didn't care about anything or anyone that much aside from winning the battle.

"Sir, Sergeant 11 reports to make a statement."

If there was a man in the field na napapatanong ako sa sarili ko kung bakit buhay pa rin at naroon, malamang na si Sergeant 11 na iyon. Hindi naman talaga siya mukhang lampa, pero may ugali at kilos kasi siyang mapapatanong ang kahit na sino kung tatagal ba talaga siya sa giyera.

Malaki ang katawan niya gaya ng ibang sundalo, but he was the softy guy in the middle of the muscled men. Ang soft ng facial features niya at mukha pa siyang nagbe-baby powder at towel sa likod kapag lumalabas. Hindi rin siya mukhang matalino at palagi pang nakangiti na para bang ang saya-sayang lumaban sa giyera. Annoying siya in a sense na iniinsulto niya kaming lahat na humaharap sa mga kalaban at pumapatay nang walang pag-aalinlangan.

"Sir, Sergeant 11 reports to make a statement."

"Siya na naman?"

"Buhay pa pala 'yan."

But all those impressions changed noong napapadalas na siya lang ang nagre-report sa mga nasasamahan niyang team na nangamatay na lang lahat at naiiwan siyang buhay palagi.

"Hey, soldier."

Natatandaan ko pa kung paano niya ako nginitian noong nilapitan ko siya habang naglilinis siya ng combat boots. We had our own group, and he was there under a dying tree, alone and enjoying his solitude.

"Good day, ma'am!"

"What's your name?"

"Sergeant 11, ma'am."

"Real name?"

"Carmelo. Izan Carmelo, ma'am."

Doon ko unang nakilala si Izan and his war invincibility. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and he always ended up in trouble, but he always managed to survive even if everyone in his team was already dead or on the verge of dying.

He was known as Senior Airman Carmelo sa aviation pero napag-alaman ng mga chief at commander na hindi rin pala siya normal na tao gaya ng ibang sundalo kaya inilipat siya sa division namin. Since we were composed of different species, we were formed into a group of super soldiers at wala na kaming ginagamit na pangalan maliban sa numero.

Naisip ko noon, convenient nga naman na numbers lang ang pangalan namin para mabilis kaming ma-identify.

But as we went along with those tags, I've realized na para sa mga tao, iyon lang kami. We were just numbers. And if we died, we died as a number, not as a human.