I've been putting this off for a while, so I think it's time to get it over with and write this hard impossible review. 
 The main point is: I liked this book. I truly did. I found the writing absorbing and the plot engrossing, the characters were so human that I could feel their emotions and the ending was so unexpected that I was shocked for some time afterwards. (And yeah, I spilled some tears, too.) 
 So why do I feel like I can't possibly choose a reasonable rating (nor express an opinion, for that matter) for this book, and even if I could it would still be...not right? 
 My mind still has some difficulties wrapping itself around some parts of the story, but the true problem was, I couldn't believe that people, no, children were forced to enter a war in which both sides kept trying to kill every single enemy whose identity they managed to discover because of a reason they didn't even remember, or, and that would be most amusing (not), that didn't even exist. I couldn't understand how, after years of pointless battles and hundreds of deaths, nobody, no body, ever asked themselves why the hell where they still fighting over something that was never even going to be revealed, and more important, if it was worth it. If it was worth to kill people you hadn't even met, just because someone told you. 
 I've still got some troubles with the world Shane built for his debut novel. But I've decided that if it had the power to unsettle me so much, even if it was hard to read, it was indeed very, very good. 
 I'm looking forward to read the second installment, even though a part of me is afraid I won't be able to endure another trip to that world full of hate and rage and pain. But I will most certainly try.