Cold water splashed across his face, a jolt to wake him up. Another morning, and once again Tom was haunted by the nightmares of the night before. Another night where he confronted and try to defeat the shadowy figure he called father. The man he once admired as a child, became into a monstrous form within a day – young Tom was playing in the yard of his poor home and suddenly he got into a scuffle with the older boys from the neighborhood. They were bullying him and Tom had to defend himself. He attacked them with the consequence of bad injuries at the two older boys. Their parents sued them. That night his father, drunk, beat him mercilessly and left. He never came back. Tom, just a boy them, grew up fueled by the need for revenge- for the pain his father caused, not only to him but to his mother, who grew sick and died when Tom was only seventeen. Every time the nightmare ended the same way : Tom would have his father in a tight grip, and the man, blurred by the wear of time. Would beg for forgiveness, sobbing and reeking of whiskey.


Rage pulsed through Tom’s vein with each repetition of the dream, a feeling he had long trapped inside his soul and body, only to unleash when he enlisted in the military.


“ Focus, Tom. Today’s the day for the special mission. No time for revenge fantasies!” the voice in his head scolded as he launched into his daily routine.


Exercise, intense drills, no rest- that was his secret to a body as sharp as his. A strict regimen, pushing himself beyond his limits, was how he liked it. He sprinted through the city’s central park as if being chased. Running with such force and speed that he believed, if he kept going, he might just break through time itself without any help from machines. When he finally stopped, he collapsed onto the cool grass and stared at the blue sky, feeling his heart pound. His body was numb, his legs shaking. And yet that feeling – exhausted pride – overwhelmed him.


“ A strong body means a strong soul” he remembered his captain saying during his early days of service. The mind must discipline the body, and the soul must discipline the mind. – There is no other way around.


On his way back to his apartment, Tom passed from his usual place. A small store that looked like something out of a French film, covered with white walls full of colorful flowers. That store was one of his morning rituals, providing at its menu all the vitamins he needed to fortify his body. Eggs, meat, vegetables, honey, chocolate and fresh juices – his preferred fuel for the day ahead.


As he ate, Tom could feel his muscles strengthening. His stomach was grateful for the care he was giving it. Glancing at his watch, he noticed time slipping away. It was nearing midday- he needed to shower, change and head to the military base. With polite smile, he signaled the waitress, opening his wallet to pay. The red – haired girl touched his hand, stopping him kindly before he could pull out any money.


<< Mr. Waltts.. your breakfast today is on me ..>> she explained hesitantly, with her blue eyes holding a sweet innocence.


It wasn’t the first time he’d been treated to something. It wasn’t the first time a woman flirted with him either. As flattered as he might have felt, Tom considered his time devoted to his missions, not to meaningless flirtations or one- night escapades. Women who desired him passed unnoticed- each one eventually wanting more than Tom willing to give. He didn’t want a relationship, didn’t want feelings, marriage or children. His life was to be a soldier, nothing more. He lowered his gaze, thanked her softly, and left the café, feeling the redhead’s eyes follow him as he walked away.


He moved briskly to his apartment, where he began to prepare. A quick cold shower jolted his muscles awake. The water was running over each scar that marked his body – reminders of past missions, whether as a time traveler or not. Bullet wounds, burns, knife slashes. Each story had left its mark on his skin, but none had scarred his mind as they had with some other soldiers. To him, these scars were badges of honor, symbols of his resilience and proof of his capability. This was how Tom defined the image of an ideal soldier – faithful, strong and unshaken.


He climbed into his jeep and began the drive to the military base.