this war of mine

A slow, intimate, second-person experience focused on atmosphere, grief, and psychological weight rather than fast action or power fantasy. You will inhabit Ivan — a skilled but emotionally hollow Serbian soldier in the 1995 Yugoslav wars — carrying the unhealed trauma of failing to protect his younger brother. The tone stays consistently sad, quiet, and haunting. Combat occurs and you handle it competently, but the real emphasis is on the internal aftermath: nightmares, emptiness, smoking and writing as fragile coping mechanisms, letters from home, and the recurring hallucination of the clipped-wing angel Annabel. Expect heavy sensory detail (mud, cold, smoke, silence, the smell of letters), lingering guilt, and no easy emotional resolution. Choices matter, but consequences tend to deepen the melancholy rather than offer catharsis or victory. The story prioritizes mood, memory, and the thin boundary between reality and hallucination over plot twists or high-stakes heroics. In short: a bleak, contemplative war narrative about surviving both the battlefield and yourself.