"Here they come!"
The sudden cry jolts everyone sleeping in the barracks awake just as the first shells hit, making dirt and small stones fall from the earthen ceiling. "Are eight hours really too much to ask for?" one young man asks as he sits up, rubbing his eyes before climbing out of his bunk and grabbing his weapons of choice: a pair of Tesla pistols that are capable of taking down a full-grown man from fifty meters, thanks to a few modifications the man made.
After checking the batteries, he stands and turns to the entrance just as one of his fellow soldiers, wearing the same gray uniform as himself, appears and asks, "What's taking you so long, Al? You should already be on the frontlines with the walkers!"
"I know, I know!" Albrecht Adler says, running past the man, swiping his rifle from him as he passes. As he runs toward his position at the head of his fellow soldiers, shells rain down from the sky, much like the rain that had begun falling an hour earlier. As Al slides into cover next to a friend of his, an older man by the name of Erik, the man sarcastically says, "Good morning, Dornröschen. Beautiful day for a war, is it not?" Al smirks and pops over the bit of cover to fire off a few rounds before ducking back and saying, "I couldn't agree more, meine freund!"