---

If there was a word to describe Reyna's situation, most would choose "lucky" as that word. Her participation in the charge was only stopped by a lieutenant at the last minute, who grabbed her arm and ordered her to help the sappers with the artillery pieces move the artillery up. At the time, Reyna thought she could feel the resentment that some would have toward her good fortune. Whether that was true or not, she had a task to accomplish.

Of course, not everything went according to plan even on her end. While the unit was holding the hill, Reyna had to countless times use her entrenching tool to dig the artillery pieces out of the muddy ground and occasionally push them. Both activities put strain on the woman, and her frustrations only increased as she slipped in the mud twice, with many more times losing her balance and recovering. By the time the artillery got to it's destination, Reyna had mud all over her face and hands, something that irked her the entire way.

She was finally able to at least clean her head and hands by the time she was released and told to go back to her unit. By the time she was told this so much that Reyna didn't know happened happened. She did not have any word on what happened to her unit, but she required time to rest while she could. Sitting in the rear lines on a box, Reyna took the time to gather her bearings and herself. After that, she spent time cleaning the gold pendant that was her charm, tucking it back into her uniform before looking up in the direction of where she was told her unit was and moving.

That was when she spotted the lance-corporal, Charpentier, at a intersection of the trenches. Reyna only knew the man in passing, having only seen him when she arrived as a new member of the unit and his rank being mentioned. However, the look on his face worried her. It was as if he has seen something horrible. She debated giving the man space at first: after all everyone needed space every so often and it would not be too much of a stretch to guess what happened to him in a battle zone. However, Reyna did need to report back to her unit and besides, he looked like he needed something though she was not sure if she would be able to provide at all.

Following Charpentier to his destination, but not too closely, she found him in one of the most isolated spots in the trenches. Had it been any other circumstance, she would have noted this spot for later and perhaps used it. Quietly, Reyna peeked around the corner and saw what the lance-corporal was doing: staring into the abyss. Oh geez. This might get a little rough.... Reyna thought as she revealed herself and approached slowly. After all, she already followed the man: any more looking at him from a corner and he might think she was a creep, something that she did not intend to be.

"Uh, excuse me lance-corporal?" Reyna gently spoke with concern, attempting to recall all of the lessons her mother taught her about talking to distressed people. Reyna bent down on her knees a little when she reached as far as she was willing to go so she was not standing too tall over the guy though his height almost made that not necessary for such a smaller woman like her. "Uh, I'm supposed to report back. Are you ok? Do you mind telling me what happened?" Already, she hoped she did not strike a nerve or caused him to lash out at her.

@LetMeDoStuff

There was a light. A glimmer of saturated hope and happiness suddenly shimmered down upon his darkest hour, stepping towards the confines of his solitary retreat. Jean was met with another elegant soul, one who seemed to have an array of sunshine and godly rays descend upon her from behind, bringing out all of the natural features amongst her muddy and grim uniform. There was a strange accent to what she had, one that was similar to the sapper back on the frontlines a while ago: a Vinlander, nonetheless. He always pondered why such nourishing sights of Vinlanders, such as the deity before him, had volunteered to head out into the plains of warfare. There was no chance that they were forced by their government to participate as the USV had yet to join in on the official declaration of war. This girl before him, however, seemed to be the direct manifestation of the elegance that the Vinland stereotype, beautiful and prowess in their composition. Even with mud on her hands and uniform, the clear features of her face were indefinitely in view. Jean felt slightly spoilt, knowing that Diana, Kalisa and now this newer angel were all within his regiment and platoon. However, it didn't stop his depressive spree of misfortune.

She spoke in a soft accent, one that tried to enlighten his poor darkness once more. Jean was surprised that she asked if he was okay, and tried to figure out what had gone on. Of course, she was a true innocent mess, having not probably had the chance to kill. She was one of the few sappers recalled back to assist in the movement of artillery back up the hill, whilst Jean and his own soldiers were forced to do the dirty work. He didn't resent her for that privilege and rather felt sorry for her. Finally, he looked deep into her eyes and simply shook in his own boots. With a sudden instinct, one simply of trying to find comfort, he moved out his hands and rested them on her wrist when she knelt beside him, just to help him think of what to say.

"H-Hell...It was all but hell out there. We were told to run. Run up that f-fucking hill...Run and watch our comrades get picked off in the masses. I...I can't shake that image, the one of disgust when I saw the bloody victims of our Federation. And then we got up there, only a fraction of us could make it, and had to beat the life out of every man and women we encountered. We saw them, and only them, deep into their eyes as we were told to murder. I...I killed two...two men. Three perhaps, I cannot ever know. Hundreds of the regiment died. We're down by...two...two thirds. And...I can't...I just can't control myself..." Finally finding the emotion to talk, he burst into tears once more, crying in shame for what he saw. Jean truly was fearful for what this girl had yet to see. It was heartbreaking to know that now they were reaching a reassignment, she would have no excuse to continue the virginity of a soldier. Either she had to kill or would be killed. There was no compromise. There was no salvation. She was going to lose that innocence she likely held onto dearly. "And...you'll have to do the same, otherwise...otherwise we all die. We're moving...moving away from Garnia to a different land to fight a different battle. I don't want to go, but...I can't abandon those who've survived. I need help. I...I can't focus nor can I find peace."

With his head turning into the ground, shaking and trembling as such, the grip on her sleeves tightened as did his nerves. There wasn't anything inherently wrong with what she asked and it had finally brought out the bottled emotions he needed to let loose, but Jean was unsure of how to follow up. Still, without looking towards her from pure shame, he trembled out his name.

"I'm...Jean...Jean-Robin Charpentier. I'm...I'm supposed to be the one who leads us...I can't even lead myself."

To those who follow after, this is what war is. You come to this place to fight over a place that means something to somebody, but all it is is a hill of dirt or a line in the sand. Nothing irreplaceable is won or lost, except for those you throw at the line. In the end, Isaac wasn't sure if they'd really achieved anything today. Perhaps those being sent in their stead would keep the hill captured or maybe even capture the artillery that was involved in all this. But Hill 58 wasn't anywhere special. That's why it was given a number. The real places that mattered would be where people lived, worked, or had real history attached to. Everything else just seemed to be a waste of time. Certainly the lives were wasted. The Lance-Corporal kept looking over the battlefield on their return and shaking his head.

"If it's like this for us, I wonder what the Imperials are thinking, starting this war."

Britta simply countered this with "I think they think they'll win.", which...admittedly, put the finger on the hub of the matter. This was somebody's ambition. Isaac had never really met people with ambition beyond merchants and performers, but people of authority didn't come into his life until now, and Lieutenant Middleton figured prominently in that decided failing of life. Whatever it was he was after, he didn't need it this badly. Nor did the Imperials, come to think of it. At no point had he ever heard of them on the verge of mass starvation or over-population. Of course, a war might solve all that if enough people died, so it was hard to tell what their plans were. They were nearing the trench now when Isaac paused.

"Something wrong?"

"Maybe. You agree that this group needs to be looked after by people like us, right?"

"Right."

"I think that'd better count Lucia, no matter how much of a stranglehold he has on her."

"No argument here. Just don't get carried away. If Middleton has you shot, you can't help me keep everyone safe."

"I know, I know..."

That man was so hard to figure out...and right now, he was going to be a bit hard to find. Middleton hadn't followed them yet, and Jean was off to go looking for him. And in the wake of his departure, there had been some bad news: Casualties were in, among them Mila, of all people. She hadn't died in her crazy charge, shouting at the top of her lungs, just suddenly later on, presumably when the artillery struck not long ago. Franz looked like he was dead himself, reporting that fact. He had nothing for him. He didn't know either of them that well yet. All of them only met today, but then again...today was probably the very day they were as one, bound by the circumstances that brought them to this war and branded by the hell they just went through, with the promise of more to come.

Isaac asked Britta to help him keep an eye on people, and he thought...Mila actually seemed familiar to him. She was from Edinburgh too, wasn't she? They might've met sometime, maybe in town. He couldn't place the reason why. Just something about the demeanor she'd had seemed familiar. He was still trying to place the memory when Middleton, Jean, and Lucia returned. The girl was out-cold, and that frosted Isaac's own temper. His first inclination was to think 'What'd he do to her?!', but then the Gunner noticed that she was not actually harmed. However, he'd also had enough of this. Jean asked that they take care of her and then he retreated into himself. Michael elected to take her to the rear line to rest.

"Thank you, Michael. Let me know if there's anything she needs later on if you can't provide it on your rank."

He noticed Franz following after him. He wouldn't blame the guy if he got a rest, as well. Alot of them would need it. No sooner had he turned to go on his own 'journey', though, than another Private began talking to Jean. Jean was...probably hit the hardest by all this, and the words that followed - hollow-sounding things from a broken man - seemed to confirm this thought. Reyna was seeing him at his worst, from having to fight to having to lead from having to deal with Middleton from having to deal with loss. It was all weighing down upon him. Isaac felt some of that weight, but he knew that Middleton and everyone else who wasn't their immediate team was being hard on him for being a Darcsen. In short, it was too much pressure, and every attempt to build him up had failed. Isaac piped in to explain now.

"It's been especially hard on him, Reyna. Nothing but troubles piled upon troubles. He was the one who took charge immediately when the Sergeant died, and the artillery didn't help us much either, when it came."

He turned to Jean specifically now. The poor guy was feeling hopeless. They were the same rank. He had to do this for him.

"Jean, you've been doing nothing but taking it all on yourself since you got her. Leading the charge, taking the responsibility, hearing the abuse... You don't need to prove yourself anymore. Go get some rest. Let me deal with Middleton for a while. I want a word with him, anyway."

Jean wasn't in any state to command right now. He'd said as much, just now. He deserved a damn medal, but they weren't going to give it to him and any one of them would trade such a thing to never have to face this hell again or deal with the loss of comrades.

Diana’s Brutal Reality - Frontline - Salient Hill 58 Battle (August 25th)

---

Diana had a look on her face of wanting not to hear any bad news of the sort. However, this is war and her little dreamworld was shattered when she heard Franz Blau’s report. This caused her to start crying since she now finally heard the Candy Lady’s name. Mila Wagner was a nice name for the candy lady, which she thought. She couldn’t help but cry tears of regret for not hearing her name before her untimely death. The thoughts in her head, where more or less regretful because she got the last piece of candy from Mila. This made her cry all the more with tears running down her face. ”T-This place sucks… I-I can see why my parents wanted to protect me from the horrors of this place.” Diana thought to herself. Her body was shaking uncontrollably. She didn’t hate the messenger who delivered the news, since she liked being kind to Darcsens. However, the Imperials, which killed Mila made her hate them a bit more even though she wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

Then it happened, she was shocked when Jean in question was utterly frustrated and a bit sad, which made her a bit shocked when he had chivalry and authority in his tone. ”O-Okay J-Jean please come back and don’t get yourself killed.” Diana spoke to his order. In the case of her she’ll wait here until Jean gets back, however, this made her look at Michael. Her body was still shaking from the fact that Mila was dead, however, she had a slight smile on her face. She realized from how he spoke, he was definitely not a child and was definitely wished she didn’t really judge a book by its cover. ”I-I’m sorry Michael Daunte for misjudging you on your looks and size. I’m from the city of Castleton, Edinburgh by the way.” Diana said, with regret in her tone towards Michael.

Time passed, which made her worry about Jean, however. But it didn’t take long until she saw Jean holding Lucia, and Middleton standing there a bit angry as usual. Her eyes were a bit in shock when she saw Lucia passed out. She was worried about the poor girl, mostly because of what she was ordered to do by the Lieutenant. Her eyes looked down just to avoid eye contact with Lt. Middleton. ”P-Poor Lucia…” Diana thought to herself, with tears going down her eyes. She agreed with what Jean told them, she wanted to take a rest from the horribleness that was this battle. Her instincts made her follow Jean since she was wanting to comfort him because she saw what his look in his face was. The hurt in his eyes made her similarly afraid for what’s going to go on in this war, more bloodshed.

The look in her eyes were a bit affixed on Jean’s hurting expression but something made her eyes go wide, when she saw another girl approach Jean. However, she did have a beautiful sounding accent in her voice. It made her a bit saddened at all of this that happened. She got to see what everyone else saw in terms of the battle on the hill and it was terrifying for her. Diana approached Jean and Reyna with a slight smile on her face but she was visibly still shakened. She just heard everything and couldn’t really speak since she couldn’t stop crying because this whole thing is gnawing at her soul. However, she started to speak when she felt like speaking. ”H-Hi… I hope I am not interrupting anything. B-But Jean is a nice guy and doesn’t want to see anyone hurt. I don’t either. My name is Diana Elana Vastergoth by the way.” Diana spoke, with a bit of jealousy in her voice. Besides the Vindlander reporting for duty with her platoon mates.

She heard Isaac speak the girl’s first name in terms of the entirety of everything. She nodded towards Isaac even though she wanted to curl in a ball and cry herself to sleep right now. ”Y-You’re first name is beautiful sounding, Reyna. I can’t wait to get on the train and leave this battlefield, don’t you agree Isaac?” Diana questioned the other Lance Corporal. However, her tone in her voice when she said Reyna was a bit more jealous than previously. She definitely did want to leave this area even though it feels like they are just going to another battlefield anyway from what getting on the train meant. The one thing she was hopeful for was not meeting that horrible Darscen hater Donster Family member again by the first name of Richard.

@Bushman501@LetMeDoStuff@FalloutJack@Conscripts@CFProxy

---

At first, Reyna was unsure if she was being insensitive. Jean did not reply for a long time before he grabbed her wrist when she knelt down. The action surprised Reyna, making her jump slightly. However, looking at the man it seemed he needed all the comfort he could get. Letting him have her wrist and hand to hold, Reyna listened to what Jean had to say, thinking about nothing but comforting the man and listening to his story.

Though she expected the account of the battle to be brutal and traumatizing, she was surprised by how much it affected the man. The way he described the event had Reyna worried. Her imagination did the rest, as she envisioned this same man beating an Imperial soldier to death with the butt of his rifle. What was the worse part, however, was the tears that he had. He was crying, letting out the emotion that was pent up inside him. That was the most difficult thing to deal with as far as Reyna was concerned.

This, however, was the here and now. Reyna felt the need to say something as she listened to the rest Jean said, catching his name at the tail end along with the information that they were relocating. Come on, Reyna. Think of something... He seemed..scared that she will have to go through the same, though she did not think she should assure him that she will be fine. Reyna fell back to what she was taught to do by her mother: smile. Smile and hope that the smile makes his day and keeps him moving forward and assure him that no matter what happens there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. "I'm Private Reyna Hall. It's ok, Jean, you did what you could."

That was all Reyna could think of to say before Isaac turned up and gave a explanation of what happened. Reyna nodded to Isaac and looked up at the man, who was another that was much taller than herself. "That's so much to go through, and yet there is more to come." she replied worriedly. If this is what these two were going through and this is their state, she worried about the rest and how she will eventually deal with it when the time came. Reyna pieced together what happened from the testimony of Jean and Isaac. Jean lead them through basically what was considered hell and back as the ranking NCO.

After fully piecing together everything, Diana came into the picture when she spoke. At least she did not have to look up as much as she looked up to Diana, who was about the same size as Reyna herself. She returned the smile to Diana as she thought this was a good opportunity to direct any conversation away from the bad that has happened. Reyna did not, however, detect the jealousy that was in Diana's voice in either instance that she spoke as she replied with a soft smile "Nice to meet you Diana. My full name is Reyna Hall. And, thank you! Your name is adorable as well! I like it and it suits you well."

"Come on, Jean. You heard Isaac. Go on and get some rest. We can handle the rest from here." Reyna said to Jean as she stood up and slipped her hand to hold Jean's hand, gently tugging it upward to let him know that she'll help him stand back up. Besides, what was he thinking sitting down in the wettest place in the trenches without sitting on top of a box?

@LetMeDoStuff @Landaus Five-One @FalloutJack

---

August, 1904...

"God Almighty..."

Over the course of only a few hours, the street had been turned into a battlefield. And it turned out to happen right on their tenth anniversary of the young couple and their small young child, right when they decided to escape the dull and unchanging background of their mansions for a while as they decided to book a ship to Gallia, in the city that they would lovingly call the city of love. Yes. Right in the very heart of this city occurred this massive riot of men and women. They weren't any subversives or protestors. They were gangs. Those thrown out into the sewer worthlessly by those who dared to take the audacity to be their carer, whilst society kept drowning them into the depths of the abyss. One could argue otherwise that they were just unsatisfied and spoilt children. Perhaps a few of them were, but would that dismantle the claim? Dissatisfaction firstly came from the inability to provide sufficiently. And that statement in itself could go a long way.

"Honey, don't look that way."

Anyhow, back and forth, these guys somehow thought they could stand up to the police forces. Whoever thought up of that idea would probably be shot by now, if he did not go down with these men. But nevertheless they decided a clash with the police right in broad daylight. And how horribly they were proven wrong. At the very end of the day, multiples of bodies lay on the street, while the rest were beaten into submission and was probably rotting in some prison right now.

It was a reality so common to a normal person who did not spend their entire time locking themselves in the loots that they did not actually work for themselves. But to become common to a person, he or she must have a time of stranger to that. And that was exactly what this eight years old child was seeing in front of his eyes. People killing people? Stabbing and clubbing each other to death? How could anyone do such a thing to another human being like that, especially that person was no more or less than he himself. He could not understand or even fathom such an idea...

"These guys..." He suddenly spoke, regardless of the blind of the eyes by his mother. "Are they evil?"

The question was as innocent as it could get. In his world right now, it was all black and white, good and evil. A gutted feeling knotted his stomach. But nevertheless, he remained still as a rock, yet his hand gently ran through the young boy's scruffy black hair as he answered.

"It's arguable, my son. But they did commit a great sin."

"A great sin?" The boy asked with round eyes. "Would they be going to hell father?"

"If they don't repent, my son."

"I'm afraid, father. I could see them from the balcony, trying to hurt bystanders." He said, his words seemingly normal at first. "I think they deserve it."

And his lips slowly changed. His firm, rock-solid smile ceased, and now facing his very own child was a hand grabbing so tightly by the wrist that even his wife was a little concerned.

"Whatever you're saying, my son, I do not want to hear that from you again." He said. Every words that came out felt like a bullet pinning him down at every limbs and corners. He knew his father could be a little austere, but to say he was adequately prepared for each was like saying a man was prepared for anything that may be thrown at him in his entire life. Instinctively, he wanted to look away, but the way he looked at him, a pair of eyes that penetrated, that locked his in its very track, ensuing that he had to heed what he said regardless.

"W-Why?" He meekly replied, a squeak uttered into the chilly autumn air.

"Because you would be there as well." Instead of a frontal shout, the father calmly replied. Only then would he let go of his son's arm. He stood up upright, straightening his shirt before giving out a breathe of air.

"Remember, no one deserves to be given a judgement by an akin figure..."

With that said, he knew the family had no more place here, as they was determined to not let a bad apple spoils a bunch.

But that moment was the beginning...

---

Michael had been looking at his own hand for a while now. It seemed to have no hope. He was just the same as he had been up that trench. Would shock be an explanation this time? He had been given time to think, time that he did not have to worry about being blasted into pieces at any moment. And yet it did not come. How come? Had he gone too emotionally numb for such a thing anymore?

"No hope..." He muttered gently to himself. Though in the small room, it may have been a little loud. He quickly looked over to the sleeping Lucia on the other bed, a little scared if he had woken her up. It didn't look like so. She didn't move. Good.

Yet again, he let out a sigh as he laid his back onto the wooden wall behind him. His eyes felt heavy right now. His eyes had been so tired right now. They served him when they should not be, and went through hell with him, going through smoke, fire, blood and mud. Perhaps it needed a bit of rest, now that he was given permission to.

Just as he was about to lie down, however, from the door emerged Franz. Not the Franz that he knew though. The more recent Franz. He wanted a talk. He could hear the forcibility in the way he speaks. It was definitely not the Franz he knew up that hill. This was only a shadow of his former self. But now that he wanted a talk, he'd have no qualm taking him as guests. Even if he could feel himself passing out at any moment.

"I don't know if I could be of any help, but..." He sat up straight, rubbing his hand on the bed, gesturing him to take a seat right next to him. "Mila...if I'm not wrong, she was 'that girl', right?"

He would know who he was talking about. The funny and ironic thing about this is that despite being a person expected to give out sympathy, love and advices, he was the one who couldn't take in all what he told others to do.
@CFProxy

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Frontline – Salient Hill 58 Battle (August 25th)

---

Diana had a look of amazement in the fact there’s another girl her height. She smiled happily at that and when she heard Reyna’s full name she had a happy smile on her face. ”T-That’s a lovely name you have. And thanks for the compliment Reyna.” Diana responded to Reyna’s statement. Her mind wandered a bit but she snapped back to reality only when she saw Reyna’s hand held Jean’s hand. The look on her face was beat red again, which was something of a consolation prize you could say in how she was acting.

In her mind, she was thinking about many things in her head. However, the one specific thing she was thinking was being extremely seething at the fact that Reyna was holding Jean’s hand. ”G-God damn it. I wanted to hold Jean’s Hand. Freaking bitch… I don’t want to do anything… stupid though but I want to hold Jean’s hand. I love him after all.” Diana thought to herself, with a specific look, which certain people could see plainly as day on her very easy not able to hide it face. The emotions on her face was showing much jealousy and a bit of fire in her eyes, at which she wanted to do for Jean. All this however, made her kinda forget why she was sad, which wasn’t a good thing since she wanted to still cry for all the people who died in this battlefield.

Diana looked at Reyna with a bit of disdain in her eyes and facial features. However, she’s not dumb to start anything mean, the morale of everyone is pretty down already. She remembered why she was sad, which was pretty much made her entire body start shaking. ”I hope all the people who fought here will be remembered...” Diana thought to herself, not knowing the reality of what happens in war. She smiled at Jean, which felt more heartfelt and gentle than her frustrated look towards Reyna. ”W-We should get out of here, Sweetie.” Diana spoke towards Jean. Her tears returned mostly for all the fallen comrades that died here.

"Jean?" Kalisa noticed that he suddenly went silent after his reply to Daniel. She looked over to where he was and found him walking away from them, seemingly directionless. Her face took a more somber look, as she understood that Daniel's words struck her fellow Darcsen deeply. "You wanna follow him?" Turns out she didn't have to ask, as Diana had begun following the Lance Corporal. Kalisa shrugged and followed behind Diana after picking up her rifle from the wall.

The Darcsen mainly kept to herself as she watched over Diana and Jean as they walked rather aimlessly for some time. She took the chance to take a better look at the piece of Jean's scarf that he put in her pocket. It was a small piece that he cut off that kept the design and made it easy to identify, a gesture that she appreciated wholeheartedly.

Jean turned to them and told them that they shouldn't be bothered by what Daniel said. To Kalisa, that pretty much confirmed that the Lance Corporal was bothered by the red head's statements. She wanted to comfort him, but she wasn't sure how to so she let him be and just kept behind him to give him some space.

Suddenly, Jean staggered. Rather oddly at that. "You OK, Jean?" The girl was too preoccupied with Jean that she didn't notice that something bad was about to happen. Her fellow Darcsen had lunged towards her and Diana and dropped them onto the ground. The action taking Kalisa by complete surprise, as she barely heard him shout out something about artillery. In a more casual setting, she'd be more embarrassed about the situation but they were on the battlefield.

They landed, and the back of her head colliding with the ground had disoriented her. Following that, were explosions. She hadn't recovered from her slight concussion yet, so the consecutive loud noises made it even harder for her to regain her bearings. Jean keeping their heads down was making it harder for her as her body was instinctively trying to move around to orientate herself but she couldn't.

The following few minutes went by a blur to her. The artillery stopped it seems, then they were told to get up and get back down the hill as fast as possible. Jean took her and Diana by the arms and ran. As she hadn't properly recovered yet, Kalisa had been staggering and nearly tripped a few times on the way down. Eventually they stopped it seems, and she dropped onto her knees as she kept herself from passing out by holding a hand up to her head and had the other supporting her on the ground.

The world was spinning, her head was pounding and her entire body felt like it was being stung by needles. She wanted to cry out but the most that she could muster was a small groan. Seconds later, it seems a medic saw her and recognized that she needs medical attention. A quick examination told the medic that she probably had a concussion, and they gently led her to a flat surface and told her to doze off for a while as they looked over the Darcsen. Being on a makeshift bed, Kalisa rather easily found herself asleep in a matter of moments.

@Landaus Five-One @LetMeDoStuff

Jean felt the warmth and comfort within Reyna's hands when she stood up, keeping a delicate tone trailed on her words as she spoke softly to soothe him. She told him that he did all that was within his power, and that slightly made him feel a little more useless. The softness of her hand slipping between his fingers brought a sense of comfort and warmth, one he hadn't felt since he'd arrived in the military lifestyle. Brandished by the luscious sweetness in her content grasp, she rose him to his feet and he almost willingly complied, his face fixated onto her and Isaac's for a short while. Something about the way he articulated a strong gaze upon her felt off on his behalf, as if he were tempted by the sirens of Vinland, but yet he felt a strange warmth in that compassionate assistance she inherently showed towards him. It was a kind gesture nonetheless. And as soon as possible, Diana reappeared. She seemed quite perplexed by the sight of them holding hands, and indeed seemed to visually make a scene out of it. Jean was quite...confused, as to how to feel. Was this normal behaviour? Did he have to be flattered that this girl who'd already proclaimed love to him before they knew one another had been so kind to him thus far? Was the sheer jealousy something to really be worried about, however? Despite his mind being taken off of her outburst suddenly, he couldn't help but remember that he'd just walked out of hell alive...Twice now.

"S-Sweetie?" Jean desperately looked towards the others for assistance. Reyna and Isaac were the only major ones he'd spoken to or heard spoken since his crumbling mass slumped into the corner, but instead he gave Reyna's hand a gentle tug with his own elegant response. He turned to Diana with a frail mind, his eyes almost twitching from the trauma the group had been through earlier that day. "R-Reyna..." He repeated the name in his head aloud, reminding himself that it was yet another pretty name to accompany a pretty face, much like Diana's, Kalisa's and now the late Mila's. Eventually, he mustered the courage to continue. "Private Reyna Hall was just...going to take me to my quarters. I need to...sleep. Badly. Rest. We must all rest, yes."

Jean started to shuffle his feet, almost forgetting to let go of Reyna's hand as she was slowly dragged alongside him. Jean turned to retort his orders from earlier, making sure that he could piece together his fractured mind once more. In reality, he was only trying to maintain the comfort he felt until he reached his quarters, where he'd simply drop into a sporadic and painful day-night's worth of nightmarish slumber. Everyone needed to rest. Tomorrow they were to wake up early and depart for the city he could not yet name in front of his Platoon. Amone. The name itself held some importance, and it was importance that made Jean feel even more anxious than the Hill's skirmish could ever present. This time, there was no room for error.

"Everyone find a place to s-sleep. Now. Heard a medic came for...Kalisa. Someone can reserve a place to sleep beside her. Maybe...Diana? You two are acquainted. Go...s-stay by her side, please? Isaac...Lance Corporal...Please make sure that everyone goes and gets rest. We need it. We all need it. I don't want to travel to A-" He silenced himself, again realising he nearly spoke of their destination. Immediately, he shook his head and continued walking, unknowingly still dragging the sweetened Reyna behind him. As he waltzed, he then realised that he had her still in his hand.

He felt a surge of embarrassment, not knowing that she was still with him either intentionally or accidentally. Before he really took notice of her presence and locked hand still, they were outside the NCOs dugout, where an assortment of slightly more comfortable beds awaited for their filling. Jean had slept on them the three nights before the attack, the three nights that were before everyone else arrived. They were hellish nights, but not as bad as the day had been on August 25th. Jean turned, and looked to Reyna with slight redness in his face, apologising immediately.

"O-Oh...I'm...I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to bring you all this way. But...thanks for, whatever you said. I...I just need that sort of comfort regularly it seems. The battles are tearing me apart." He turned to her and smiled weakly to himself, for the first time in a while since the bombardment and charge itself. "T-Thanks, though. It...It goes a mile or two. You're in our Platoon, so...Just stay with me, and the rest, and I'll do what I can...what I could, and what I must for people like Diana, Kalisa, Michael, Franz and yourself...I'll...I'll...Protect."

He felt the tears come down his cheeks once more, and he attempted to wipe them off but to no avail. He was seriously pandered by the heavy impacts of shells, bullets and concussive imagery of the dead. Jean truly felt his world crumbling all around him, and only on the first battle. Was he really supposed to serve for a few years in these conditions? How much longer was the war going to last? Jean's hand quickly shot into his breast pocket as he pulled out a small watch, one that barely ticked by functionally. Within an instant, he placed it in Reyna's hands.

"You're yet to see combat. Take...take my pendant. It'll guide you whenever I can't. I don't know if I'll ever heal from what I saw, but with my help you'll never see that personal injury. I...I mean..." His eyes darted away in minor embarrassment once more, his words staggering to find their place once more. "It belonged to my Sister. She forgot to take it with her to the war, because she feared if I ended up joining without having it myself I wouldn't survive. But you...and Isaac, and Daniel, and Kalisa, and Diana, and Archibald...They've all awoken something within my mind. I...I guess it isn't my duty to survive, because that's reserved for you people. It's my duty to protect you, even if it costs me my own life, and someday it will. Reyna...Take the pendant and keep it close. For if I am to die, I will not take it with me to the grave when people as precious as yourself need it more. I...I can't let anyone else die, not if I can do something about it. If the Platoon wishes to...well...detach themselves personally from me, as a broken mess, then so be it, but always know that it's now my duty to not serve the Federation, but to honour the dead we've lost and to be alongside you, the Platoon, Diana, Michael, Lucia...hell even Middleton...It's the only purpose I have left."

Jean stood in silence, the wind coming between the Vinlander and Charpentier equally. There was a strange aura around him. It wasn't confidence anymore, nor was it the shyness of his actions. It was acceptance. Even in his training camp, Jean was told that an NCO should try to place his men's lives over his own. Now that there were such friendly, fragile, beautiful, brotherly and honourable faces all around him, it seemed like there was no choice but to lay down his life in the face of death if their safety was guaranteed by it. Jean found himself finally at the beginning of his downfall, so he suspected. EW1 was what he imagined would be his initial and eventual grave, though he trailed himself silently into his sleeping quarters, leaving Reyna with a dire apology and sincere farewell in the passionate rain. And thus, Jean went to sleep, dreaming of nothing more than the blank slate he'd been that day. Perhaps tomorrow, the train-ride to Amone and the eventual battle of Amone itself could spark a new light in him. And if they didn't, then either of the angels his Platoon had needed to rescue him from descending into the fiery depths of hell itself.

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Sleeptime in the Rear Lines – Salient Hill 58 Battle (August 25th)

---

Diana smiled kindly towards Jean, when she saw how bad he was. Her body finally felt like it weighed as if it was a tons of bricks and definitely needed sleep. She saw something in Jean, which reminded her of what happened to her by her older sisters. The entirety of her childhood was something of a sore spot to her. She agreed with that everyone needs sleep, with what Jean said. ”I-I have to agree with you Jean. We need sleep badly.” Diana spoke, kindly. She felt a bit relived that everyone needs sleep now, her feet was hurting from all this walking constantly.

Her eyes wandered a bit she was looking for Kalisa, which was teasing her. She was worried about her, until she heard Jean address her again. ”Y-Yeah I can Jean. I will reserve a place for her. She’s sweet.” Diana responded to Jean’s question with a smile. The emotion in her voice was of worry since she was worried about her platoon mate. Her entire being was being pulled in multiple directions, which caused her internal strife. ”M-Mom always told me to help the people in need… I will help Kalisa out since she’s injured. Mom I am doing my best out here.” Diana thought to herself. Her thoughts were wanting to help Jean but she was told by the man she loves to help out Kalisa and be by her side. She will do this to the best of her abilities.

Diana looked directly at Isaac with a happy little smile on her lips. ”I hope you get a goodnight sleep, Isaac.” Diana said to Isaac, wishing him a goodnight sleep. She did have to raise her head to see Isaac’s eyes though since he was taller than her. She walked to the nearest medic in question and asked him about Kalisa. The medic in question asked him why she was here and she asked about Kalisa, and the medic realized they were from the same platoon. The medic allowed her to be besides Kalisa. She was physically exhausted and fell asleep right next to Kalisa, which is another makeshift bed in the medical part of the trench.

Her thoughts in everything that had happened to her since she started to be apart of the war. It was pretty much a terrifying thing, there was many things going through her thoughts in her sleep. She went into a dreamworld, which was something of a casual thing. This time, however, the dreams were a bit more darker since she killed her first person in this bloody war. She had tears going down her face while she was sleeping as peaceful as she could, right next to Kalisa.

---

Michael waited patiently, in silence, as Franz took his seat and began his story. Or rather, he gave him a notebook. It took him a while to do so though. A diary? Or a journal? Michael didn't want to look intrusive, but eventually Franz gave him it anyway. It was rather a sketchbook. And there was...Mila. When did he sketch her? But it was incomplete. It was barely a quick basic sketch, but it already caught the essence of her beauty. But perhaps now that when she is dead, it'd never be completed. All that would be recorded of this girl ever was this sketch. It was painful to think about it. Such life lost for what? A whole bunch of angry old men bickering over each other.

'Future huh?'

He wasn't wrong. Michael didn't mean him being useless. He clearly had talents in arts. But the problem is the society, not him, nor his race. Michael knew the whole Darcsen incident that occurred in the ancient past. That was the reason he rejected Yggdism. How could people so blind to believe such a story that had no ways of verification, no written records, and only had the story told from mouth to mouth that originates from the VALKYRURS themselves. It is an insane world he is living in, but knowing that would not help a person like Franz. But 'future' is an ambiguous word. He just didn't have one in terms of acceptance. It's unfortunate that it is a huge thing.

Michael took a while to compile a response. He knew saying cliché things would definitely not help anyone. Because he probably have heard it countless times already. But nevertheless, he still needed to convey his point across.

"Depends on what you mean by future actually." Michael began, his palm still holding onto the notebook Franz just gave him. "If you're looking for acceptance by the general society, then you probably know the answer."

Things could change, but he doubt it would change in his lifetime.

"Personally, I think you do have a future. Everybody does." He continued. It did sound a little empty, like comfort word to a hurt animal. "Even if it isn't allocated to you yourself."

He gave a long exhale before looking over to the Darcsen, who may be confused with the statement.

"You did say you grieved for Mila. Then you're already better than me..." His voice drifted off in a bit, as he seemed to stare into space. But he quickly recovered as he continued. "But it shows you do actually care about something. About her. About her future. And I think Mila does too, in her final moments and decision to cover you. I know she probably doesn't live your life, doesn't fully understand what pain you have to go through, but I think that's one of her future, even if she doesn't come out of that alive..."

"She saw that she could preserve and protect others' future. And she jumped right at it. No hesitation, no thinking. Even though her ideals are a little simplistic and to be honest unhealthy, I still respect her greatly to know that she saved you. Sometimes it would be in vain. I know, because I too failed to save my friend. His father owned a carpenter shop, and he was waiting for his son to inherit it, but what he would receive now would merely be a letter saying he died for his country. Only because I missed that shot. But the thought alone also speaks. I know it sounds a little sophisticated, but I just think that..." He said, some of his words almost unable to materialize, before placing his right hand onto Franz's left shoulders "To preserve people's future is also a future."

For some unknown reason, that final quote of his, whether or not it struck Franz, struck him back instead. There was something in his own words, derived from what Franz and others would think his wisdom, that made Michael confused at himself. Despite saying this genuinely from his heart, it still felt strange to Michael. Probably because he never have to touch it before, and now that he was making it for the very first time. But hopefully, Franz could get it.

"I think you should finish this though. Try your best to remember." Michael closed the notebook in his hand before handing it back to Franz. "We'd probably want some food. We had an emotional day."
@CFProxy

Command was just hell on a guy, and Isaac had just taken the reins.

He didn't think he was gonna be really any better here. True, he knew something of getting a pack to move, so he could be direct and decisive and strong, but let's just face it: He was just the replacement widget for what was considered the better man. Jean-Robin Charpentier was both the hero of the hour and the hardest one among the living that was hit, with Franz as the runner-up on that account. It's not that the farmer and wolf-trainer felt he was being overshadowed. It was more like he saw that Jean had something in him that worked in a crisis, and that despite all things he had come out of it all whole. He deserved better. Perhaps, if he weren't so broken up, he even deserved proper command and respect, but Middleton wasn't going to give it to him. He doubted that the Lieutenant would treat him any better, and that's before he realizes that Isaac hated him.

And yes, of course he did. He was the same as that recruiter, blinding shoving people into the line of fire. Oh, he and Middleton were going to be the best of enemies, he was sure. Well, that particular event had yet to go forth, as he hadn't really talked to the man yet. Right now, though, the only other NCO had effectively taken command, lacking anybody else of a higher rank and Jean needing a break from the pressures of it. It did not feel heavy so much as...like he really was holding onto it for someone else, shielding them from further harm. Well...that's the life of a Gunner, after all. He was the support man, making sure people come back alive. Machine gun support kept him honest. Everyone else before him, getting out of a pinch, and everyone guarded by him as he drops the enemy ahead of them.

Now, largely unchanged, just because he was in charge, he was addressed by Diana.

"Yeah, I'm getting tired of the squelch beneath my feet, and I live on a farm."

There might've been boards in the trenches, but not enough and you still heard the sounds of the mud underneath those. Reyna and Diana were now trying to get Jean to respond, to go with them to the rear in order to get some rest. Again, it seemed like Diana was really attached to Jean. It wasn't that surprising. The machine gun fire and the charge was well-executed, he was a proper gentleman, and he cared a whole lot. Hopefully, there wasn't going to be alot of friction going on here. Just then, though, Jean seemed to pull out of his stupor long enough to address those in front of him. He wanted Isaac to make sure everyone got some sleep before they got pulled to A-

"Another battlefield. Right, I gotcha. Don't worry, I'll take care of things, I promise."

He assumed that Jean stopped because he didn't want to say something he most certainly dreaded, which was thinking of them being thrust into conflict once more. Couldn't blame him. Isaac hadn't realized what he HAD almost said, but it was of no consequence. He nodded as Diana wished him a good night's sleep just as Britta was coming back.

"I will, once I'm done here."

"Oh, aren't you going to take another nap?"

She was just teasing him, because he fell asleep beside Lucia. Issac first answered by taking out a folded sheet of paper and a pencil. The pencil had been snapped in half, but it was still useable.

"My Sergeant told me that the first day can make or break you. I hope Jean doesn't stay broken, but for me, I need to let the folks know I'm still alive."

"I see. Well, don't take too long. The Lieutenant's liable to be weighing down on you now, if Jeans's in a bad way. You'll need every ounce of strength."

"Don't I know it."

So, once she was heading off to get some rest herself, Isaac took a seat to compose a letter. It wasn't anything fancy, really. He just wrote down the address clearly on the back of the paper, then started composing on the front.

Mom, Dad, Alex, Emeri,

First of all, hello. I'm still alive. It was rough and alot's happened, but I made it, and I hope most - if not all - of us make it to the end of this war. I dunno how that'll work out, but I'll work AT it, so we'll see. I'm not going to bother you with the details, since it's mostly my still being around that matters.

One thing, though. Does the name 'Mila Wagner' sound familiar to any of you? I feel like I know that name and it's the name of one of the soldiers out here. Maybe their family is in town. Check on that, would you? I have my own work cut out for me.

yours,
Isaac

He folded that up and put it back in his pocket. He'd get someone to send it off home later on. For now, he was getting some rest, and he was doing so with the impression that he would be getting a rude awakening from Middleton anyway, so the Gunner positioned himself in a manner that would basically force the Lieutenant to address him first. That way, he could keep the pressure off of Jean.

---

Michael was about to leave, thinking it would take a bit more time for Franz to take it in. It normally do for people, he thinks. But when his hand was on the door, he could hear his voice again. A totally different one.

"It would be preferred if you don't. She had a day." Michael responded. Wasn't he present at the beginning of the charge? He was pretty sure everybody present was pretty knowledgeable about a girl being given a dreadful job of killing her own allies.

"She's Lucia. Lucia Farris." Michael gave a brief sigh as he turned around to look at the girl. She didn't seem to be affected by the Darcsen's sudden spring of spirits. She had drifted a little too deeply so. Hopefully because of that, she wouldn't be having a bad dream about whatever or whoever she had to go through. And he hoped to have that also. He hoped to drift deeply so that all he knew after he closed his eyes was the moment he opened them again.

Looking at the state of the Darcsen right now, there was something beginning to well up inside of him. A feeling that he had just saved someone? That he had just helped someone through a calamity, even if it may turned out to be a vain attempt, as he may die the very next day, the next month, the next battle. But just like he himself said, Michael had preserved a man's future, no matter how short that preservation would be. He had done one of it. He should be a little bit happy about it. Nothing better than a bit of respite from the hell he was in.

"If that is the extent." He gave Franz a smile as he accepted the shake. "But I'll get us something first." He then quickly left the room, heading out for where rations were being handed out. A few minutes later, he came back with three boxes. All full of the daily rations that he had known all too well during his training days. Handing to Franz one of them, Michael also took one and had his meal. It had been a long day for him. For everybody...

After it, he would offer Franz accommodation too, if he didn't mind. Whether or not he'd take it or not, he quickly drifted away into unconsciousness. And thankfully, as he had wanted, he jumped right into deep sleep. His vision was all but an empty void of darkness.

For the girl who had been terrorized throughout the whole journey, the girl who was forced into the war without her own consent, the girl whose first kill was no one but her own allies who she was supposed to support, the girl named Lucia Farris, she would wake up some time later, with a box right next to her on the bed. It would be the life force that would enable her to get through the day.
@CFProxy@LetMeDoStuff

The day had been bleak, very bleak indeed. Not a single crack in the cloudy sky revealed the sunlight they so deared for, and instead the consistency of last night's heavy rain had already taken its toll on the march back to Garnia. Being only around twenty minutes away from the rear-line of the Salient, there was a large field in which they had to cross. Most of the previous duckboards had sunk into the muddy depths of the ground and so it was an unsafe trek all the way back to the safety of the town. It wasn't dangerous enough for people to lose their lives, though it was more to do with getting their uniform stained before an early inspection, but the journey itself was tiring and painful. The aftermath of said rainfall was simply aggravating and had caused a tonne of grogginess in the world around the 15th Atlantic Rifles, whom were down by two thirds now. Upon their travels, they passed several other regiments who were going to take over the breakthrough into the Salient. Jean had heard about it that early morning, after waking up as early as 4:00am to a distant sound of gunfire. The Fusiliers had apparently broken through the Imperial defences yet again and fully secured the hill to be within Federation territory, showing that the Salient was breaking apart into a more linear frontline. Jean didn't know whether or not to be happy with that consolidation of news.

The regiment were quite clearly tired. Down to their last 200 or so able fighters, with an extra 50 or so being amongst the injured awaiting transportation back home, they were crippled greatly from the attack on Hill 58. It was obvious that the only solution was that a new wave of new soldiers, along with a few veteran transfers, were required. The night before had Middleton eagerly going around, writing letters and signing morse code to the command stations requesting a new batch of troops along the way to Amone. Approximately an extra 1000 were promised, but whether or not they could be fulfilled was another question entirely. Despite being reduced to merely the size of a single company, the regiment still held its official title and remained as a serviced collective within the fractured Federation Army. Middleton had been at his most tedious with the constant questioning towards his NCOs of their jobs throughout the night, even waking up some of them for five second conversations.

Jean's eyes were hanging a strange and insufferable amount of bags between them. It was clear that the night had broken him. It had broken him a lot. Middleton had left that fateful letter on his desk for when he went to bed, and when he read it the emotion within him just shattered and fell apart. No longer was there any time to feel, consolidate nor express himself. He looked as if he had died in the Battle before. Jean found out that his parents had been killed four weeks ago.

It was a measly letter to receive and held some irony with it. Usually the citizens back home received letters explaining the death of a relative on the frontline, much like Jean's own sister and her letter, but in this instance it was almost reversed in some sickly manner. Jean, a serviceman on the frontlines of the Great Europan War, received a tightly compact scripture of sorrow and tragedy. He cried throughout the night, especially when finding out that the war itself hadn't even been the cause of their death. Riots in their homes. Riots in their streets. Beaten to death by the many extremist fanatics that roamed the avenues of a place Jean once called a safe home. Was this truly a week to break Jean apart? It had been a single day, when he'd found out the news, since his first taste of horrific combat and now he had to find this out? Jean was angered, distressed and ultimately pained. He wouldn't have been surprised if those within his regiment had seen him scouting around the trench uneasily throughout the night, whispering to himself and clutching that dear letter like it meant everything to him. Officially, Jean had nothing left for him. Nothing was on the frontline. Nothing was waiting back home. What was he even fighting for anymore?

Eventually, the dullness of the morning grew even more painful when the remainder of the regiment were told to form up outside the main station to Garnia. Already the town was something of a wreckage. Areas in which artillery shells previous shot from an Imperial-controlled Hill 58 a week before were showered in debris, the remains of homes and sometimes even the odd casualty that had yet to be moved into a grave. Very few civilians roamed the streets and many even gazed at the soldiers on their own side with glaring spite. Jean felt uncomfortable whenever one met their eyes with his and he hoped to simply drown his own view away in Kalisa's, Diana's or even the newcommer Reyna's own gazes. For once, he was simply clinging onto the factor of three perfect friends amongst his regiment for dear life, knowing that if they were to leave him behind and to let go of the hope he saw in them, all would be over for him.

The formation was simple. Three ranks. Several clusters of three ranks were always the setup. No one was assigned any specific cluster and was simply awaiting for where they'd been allocated upon arrival. Before them all stood the NCOs, all in front of their clusters individuals, whereas Middleton took the Lieutenant's mantle and watched over them with a strange glare. The wind was silent for once. Not one man or woman amongst the crowd uttered a single word of calamity for the time they spent near Middleton's own ruthless presence. Before them all stood the grimness of the sky, an absolute grey without any redeeming colours to provide flavours of joy and hope for the masses. Other regiments who were on temporary R&R watched the lacklustre of manpower that was the 15th Atlantic Rifles. Some stared in woe or nudged the shoulders of their fellow comrades, eyeing at them with almost pitiful shakes of their heads. They would mutter their condolences towards the fallen only to themselves, knowing that the 15th Atlantic Rifles had been amongst a terrible loss of life. They were lucky, at the very least, not to have gone down the road as some of the regiments who found themselves encircled, wiped out or completely annihilated, like the 12th Coldwater Royal Guardsmen, infamous in the line of terrible military disasters of the Great Europan War.

Jean's head was snapped back into the reality of the world as he heard the booming voice of Staff Sergeant Baker blast throughout the morning dew. It echoed throughout the streets and those nearby calmed their voices. Only the sound of the great nearby locomotive letting off steam could be heard. Jean forgot about the train. For some reason, it made him nervous once more.

"Regiment, regiment-shun!" Baker's words made the nearby soldiers feet stamp in unison, as their ceremonial drill had taught them before their deployment into the frontlines. There was a brief silence, with the leading Staff Sergeant saluting Middleton as he arrived to assume his position before dismissing him to the side, where the Staff Sergeant awaited for his further calling. And thus, 1st Lieutenant Middleton had something different about him. There was a strange aura around what he was addressing them as, and soon his first words spoke truly of what he was so glad about.

"Regiment, stand at ease!" They complied with strict discipline, even though most of them didn't want to show him the respect he apparently deserved. "Before we board this train, there is something we must go over. The brass requires for us to go over these details and quite frankly, I am sure we're all to do so. I'd like to start things off on a more positive note. Because of our valiant efforts yesterday, we've received recognition from the brass to assign certain promotions to our soldiers to commemorate them for their efforts in the face of evil, tyranny and devoted anger. I am now able to choose and assign these promotions myself. You will all refer to me as Captain from now on."

Jean's throat closed up as he found it hard to breathe from the sudden truth. Of course he had to look smug. Someone had the idiotic plan to give this almost inhumane piece of shit the power he really shouldn't be trusted with. Now he had jurisdiction over operations entirely, as well as several companies within a regiment if he so pleased. A shudder came within his own skull, and Jean was more than certain that the fellow soldiers behind him truly felt quite hurt by the decision to promote the apparent demon of the 15th Atlantic Rifles. Jean was quite unsure of how he felt, having seen a side of the Captain the previous day that no one else seemed to have. There was some humanity and pain in his mind and he was entirely reluctant to share such dire details with someone as lowly as a Darcsen. It hurt in itself to think like that, but Jean knew it was the truth. Why converse with a sub-species when he could bottle it up and use it as fuel to fight a war?

Suddenly, the now-Captain began to continue his opening speech, staring at the groups in large numbers. Before him, clutched tightly in his smartly gloved fingers, was a clipboard with a lot of small scribbles and lists written down upon it. Jean was curious as to what it meant, but soon enough the answer came through.

"And so, I am now within my right to promote the following soldiers." He started going through the list of names, many of which he didn't know. Most of them were previous NCOs who were already taking a step up into the next stage in their newfound wartime careers, but some were names of strange Privates he'd never heard or seen before, moving up to the same level as Jean and Isaac were in that moment of time. But it was the last two names that suddenly stuck out in Jean's head. They were painful names, after all. "Lance Corporal Jean-Robin Charpentier. Promoted to Corporal. Private Daniel Blazek. Promoted to Lance Corporal."

Jean silently saluted, with a painful look in his eyes. One of the Staff Sergeants approached him and handed him the new rank slides, which were quickly slotted into his epilates without much hesitation. Jean instantly felt the weight of further responsibility dribble down onto his shoulders. Yesterday was his first day ever taking command of anything that mattered, and now he was being entrusted with more lives. How many had he already lost? How many were to also lose their lives? Jean felt tears barely holding back behind his eyelids as he knew that this was going to be a position of pain, agony and mental torture throughout the remainder of the war, or until his death came about. It further solidified the truth that Jean was simply a tool to protect the privates he spoke about before. Now, without a home or family to go home to, Jean was destined to put his life to its end in the field of battle, with no love or light to guide him into the brighter future he so desired. On top of that, Daniel, the Private who he clashed with the day before, had also received a promotion. Maybe it'd be a kick of reality, or another chance of a power trip, but it was now another testament to the cruelty of the Federation Army.

And thus, after a brief cheer from the soldiers around them, who were not a part of the parade departing onto the train, Captain Alexander-John Middleton began to finish off the debrief with some words of genuine meaning.

"With that out of the way, I must address the elephant in the room. Yesterday we lost over 700 of our comrades. That was 700 men and women, fighters and martyrs, honourable and cowards, all in the same day. That was from our regiment alone. We are not being granted rest or recovery from the brass as we are being transferred to a new frontline. From now on, all letters back home will be delayed to prevent any information getting out, but a full scale assault on the much-needed city of Amone is a requirement. The Federation command saw our breakthrough at this Salient as reasons for us to participate in this upcoming Siege, but the journey there will take several days or possibly a week. Along the way we will be picking up all our replacements and transfers straight out of training. Make them feel welcome. Remind them of my rules. Do not let them become cowards. Now get on the train. Sleep well, and know that the brass, though not me, are proud of you for your achievements here in the early stages of your fighting lives. Private Farris, please report to my cabin as soon as the train departs, and the rest of you will find some comfort in the train's common cabins for you. Enjoy the time of peace. You'll need it for what's about to come. Regiment, an Officer on Parade...Dismissed!"

And so, with a somewhat hesitant salute, the Regiment fell out of their ranks and began to shuffle towards the train carriages. It was true, the inside had some warmth to it, but there was nothing as exciting or homely as the hotels, inns or homes they'd all came from. Jean simply took himself to the quietest and most solitary room on the train. Each of the seats were divided by a cabin room, fit with its own walls and doors to add group privacy. Because the regiment was so down on numbers, there were many cabins left empty or plenty of seats to fill. Jean simply turned himself to a private room, one that had six available seats, and shut the door without locking it. With everyone being on the train, it began to set off slowly, and Jean had no clue whether or not his solitary vigilance of sadness was soon to be broken. Whilst he sat, all oblivious to the future before him, a tear dribbled down his freshly promoted face.

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Debriefing – Garnia Train Station (August 26th)

---

Diana woke up a bit before Kalisa would’ve woke up with sweat coming from her brow, which was mostly from a terrifying nightmare that she had. The only thing that calmed her down, which was looking around the room she was in and it was literally the room she fell asleep in and saw Kalisa sleeping soundly. She sighed in relief because she outright didn’t like that nightmare, which she had in between yesterday and today. She couldn’t really sleep anymore since there everyone is going to leave on a train probably soon. ”T-That’s good Kalisa is still here… I hate that nightmare, why did I have it in my home?” Diana thought to herself, which it was indeed confusing most of the time. This is the first time she had this bad of a nightmare, which isn’t good guess the killing of that Imperial affected her more than she thought. She got up and decided to walk around, however, she heard the news of the hill has been permanently taken by the Federation.

The news fills her with pride, which was better news than she could have handled. She was still a bit shaken from her nightmare, which she needed to take a walk around the place. The walk took her outside of the medical tent, which she was sleeping in. She felt rain drops on her head, which meant it was still raining after all this time. ”W-Why is it still raining...” Diana said, rolling her eyes. The rain didn’t make her feel any better since she wanted to see sun. She always liked the sunlight. She stretched to make her feel a bit better and try to shake off that nightmare she had.

The order was given to her and everyone else to meet up at the train station, which she got off on. She felt a bit dull and couldn’t wait to leave this awful battlefield, which it was soul crushing to be apart of. The walk towards the Train station, which was a bit heartbreaking since she saw the civilians that were walking around had hate for the Federation Soldiers. ”W-What the… why do they hate us? The Imperials were the one that bombed everything.” Diana thought to herself. She saw Jean who looked away from her gaze, which she wondered what was wrong with him. In, which she wanted to say something to him but there was going to be a debriefing soon. She couldn’t help but feel a bit helpless right now.

Diana noticed the train as well, which she couldn’t wait to get onto to leave this place. The reality of what was next to come hit her harder. She put herself in the regiment’s unison when the staff sergeant said, what he said. The eyes of her could notice Middleton’s change in posture or some such thing. She was wondering what what he would speak, which he told them to stand at ease. ”I-I hope he doesn’t say anything harmful to Jean. Because he’s kinda of an asshole.” Diana thought to herself, with a slight fear in her facial features while looking at Middleton. She listened to his speech of what he said afterwards.

The shock in her eyes, which was clear as day in terms that Middleton is now Captain Middleton and no longer a 1st Lieutenant. This made her a bit more terrified of him than she was already was. The entirety of this day felt like it was becoming worse than better. However, there was many thoughts in the back of her head, which were mostly focused on going to a different place entirety. She kinda wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. There was something stopping her, however, it’s mostly the fear in her eyes looking directly at Captain Middleton. ”W-What is he going to say?” Diana thought to herself, with a bit of an anxiety about it.

Diana heard something that shocked her when he spoke about who got promoted, from Middleton’s mouth. One of them were Jean, which she was in love with and the other was literally Daniel Blazek that yelled at her. She couldn’t help but feel happiness for the people who were promoted even with one of them yelled at her for being in the clouds. ”J-Jean being promoted is nice. I should at least congratulate Daniel for his promotion. I still wonder why he stays away from girls, however.” Diana thought to herself, with a smile on her face. Her mood has picked up a bit from what she felt even though it was mostly because of something good happened to the platoon.

The thing that specifically, which Captain Middleton said, in terms that 700 Federation Soldiers died on the march to the hill. That terrified her and felt saddened for all the people who lost their lives, which will never return to their families. However, when she heard Private Farris’ name from Middleton’s lips, which made her worried for the girl who had to do something terrible. She shivered down her spine, which she didn’t want to know what Middleton was going to do to her. ”D-Damn fucking prick,” Diana thought to herself, which was a bit terrified but mentally exhausted and angry at Middleton. Her facial features was pretty easy to read nonetheless, which it was mixed in fear, anger and other emotions. The Order of them to get on the train, after he dismissed them caused her to hesitantly salute to him.

Diana got on the train, which she was looking for Jean primarily to congratulate him on his promotion, which felt like she should at least do. She opened the shut door, which she saw Jean sitting down. She sat down across from him, with a smile on her face. ”W-What’s wrong? A-Also congratulations on your promotion J-Jean. T-That was many causalities.” Diana spoke towards Jean, with a gentle and calming tone in her voice. The entire report of 700 people kinda made her a bit realize that this war was like, which was like even more brutal than anything she heard from the people who conscripted her into this war. She started to cry a bit and couldn’t stop from the mental bombardment that was the smug bastard’s speech, in terms of Middleton. ”I-I hope Lucia is alright...” Diana said, with a bit of a terrified tone in her voice.

@LetMeDoStuff@SMS

A splitting headache forced Kalisa awake from her slumber. Her head was heavy and her body was aching somewhat. Sweat dripping down her forehead told her that it was the heat that was causing this pain on her. The Darcsen girl wasn't used to the heat, so sleeping in these temperatures was uncomfortable to the say the least.

She was lying on her side, facing the exit of the makeshift tent that she was in. Opening her eyes slightly, she spots Diana exiting the tent. It took her a few blinks before she could properly open her eyes. Wiping away the sweat from her forehead with her free arm, she slowly sat up while rubbing her eyes with her other arm.

"Oh, you're awake." A voice called out to her. Kalisa turned to the owner of the voice, who turned out to be the medic who took her here the day before. It seems she had a mild concussion from before she conked out. It wasn't anything too serious, she was just unable to settle down to remedy it immediately which caused her to pass out.

The previous day certainly left a mark on her. It was her first real taste of war, and it also had her first confirmed kill. She made some acquaintances on the field, though she was wary about calling them friends immediately. While they had some laughs and bonded a little before the retreat back down, they still did barely know each other outside of their names. Jean's a bit of an exception, though that one's more of a Darcsen thing.

The girl was also told to head on over to the train station as soon as she was able. It seems like they were gonna be addressed by Middleton for something.

---

Some speech that was. Although, most of it did just pass by Kalisa's head. While she was paying attention, she found Middleton's speech to be rather wordy and kinda spaced out a few times. She did catch that he himself was promoted to Captain, with Jean to Corporal and Daniel to Lance Corporal. The former didn't sound too appealing for her even if it did make sense, but she made a mental note to congratulate the latter two for their promotions whenever she runs into them on the train.

Kalisa was at the far back of the formation, so she was one of the last to board the train carriages. Eventually it was her turn to get on, and she took her time to look over the other cabins. A few had some familiar faces in them, but most of them were either empty or barely occupied. One of the later doors she opened revealed that Jean and Diana had already been occupying the cabin it led to.

"Oh hey, you two." She gave a small wave to them. "I hope you don't mind me joining you guys." She said as she closed the door behind her. She took one of the seats beside the door opposite Jean as she quickly noticed that her Darcsen fellow didn't seem to be in high spirits at the moment. Although she planned to congratulate Jean, it also dawned on her just what a promotion would entail. Kalisa figured that the sudden increase in responsibility was weighing him down, especially with how many people they lost in their regiment yesterday. She overheard that the madwoman from yesterday got unlucky and died during the retreat back also.

"Jean... you alright?" She quietly addressed the other Darcsen with a concerned look on her face. It wouldn't seem right to bring up the promotion right now, so she hopes that a little prodding will help her understand why he's so aloof. "Didn't get enough sleep?" She was somewhat wishing that he was just... grumpy from not being able to count sheep, something that can be addressed while they're on the train.

@LetMeDoStuff @Landaus Five-One