There they are. 1,000 strong, shouting like barbarians. Uncivilized, while we have strong, impenetrable metal armors, and sturdy weapons. We stand, esteemed, and sure that we will win. But that’s not all. My men! Brave souls, who would face danger without question. Bravado is our language, and we will show these animals how “we” Europeans fight. When we win, we will celebrate with my men and the king of Cebu. They are wearing nothing to protect them, and are holding weak ancient weapons made out of wood and rocks. But something upsets my state of mind. I can’t get a grasp of what it is, but I am quivering. I try to convince myself that I am not afraid, that it is only adrenaline taking over. However, it’s not the cool breeze of air, nor is it the climate. It’s fear. I try hard not to show my feelings to my men, or the animals that stand right before my eyes. However, the sound of my armor vibrating on the surface of my blade is loud. I see if they hear it, but not yet, not yet. They are getting ready for the battle, holding up their weapons. I cry out, “Charge!“ But my voice trembles, and the sound of my voice isn’t loud enough. I look around, and to my surprise no one is running. “CHARGE!”, I shout once again, this time as loud as I can. This time, it has worked, and my courageous men are rushing towards the enemy. The battle has commenced. I run, but at a slower pace, falling behind some of my men. It’s not fear. It’s a moment for me to say my last goodbyes before death greets me with his open arms. The 1,000 animals run toward us, throwing their weapons. I see that many of them have spotted me, and at least one of them is coming towards me. I quickly turn my body to dodge, but then I feel a pain in my back and chest. I can’t move, and I seem to be stuck. I touch my back, and my hand is covered with blood. It’s an untimely death. The spear has impaled me.
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