In a timeless manner, no mind to the moment at hand, random signals are sent out ordering maneuvers and directives so that in any given second, a million pounds of sharp metal will cascade into various spaces where soft organs and fragile beating things lie.
Pounding occurs, bleeding happens. Pain ensues.
And yet on the outside, this shell, looks mostly calm.
To the naked eye, I am whole.
Any deficits in structure are not visible to someone looking in.
Only from looking out.
So if anyone asks what it's like to go to war, you can say you've been.
Only that you never left home.