((With permission from @LetMeDoStuff))



Time had passed.

The train flung towards Amone had been a kind of respite. Though there hadn't been much to do on board, the 15th Atlantic Rifles had spent some time getting re-asserted into themselves, after that first initial shock of war to their system. People like Jean and Lucia and Michael, who had been so heavily affected by their first day - seemed human again instead of walking dead. And though others - like Isaac, for instance - were not so overtly harmed at the time, it's not to say there were no scars. Merely...they bore with it and moved on, because they had to. People handle the dark times in their lives differently, at different rates, or..they do not at all. Isaac was personally glad to see that everyone he had met and grown to like and understand in the 15th could laugh and love their lives again. He knew that they were not fully-recovered, that such a remedy to them all would take years...or never come at all. He was simply glad to see that the delicate thread of sanity had not snapped under pressure for them all. They just had to hang in there and deal with things, one day at a time. 'No task is insurmountable, just requiring the appropriate footwork.' That was something else is father told him.

Isaac wished that someone like his father were in charge, instead of Middleton. Lieu- No, Captain Middleton was just a granite-boned asshole who needed to get his eyes checked. He thought he was talking to hardened soldiers molded from clay to a task, but he didn't see that they were just people - some of them unwilling, some of them aangry, and all of them scared. Even Isaac was scared, in some dark corner of his mind where he kept his common sense. He put it away every time he trained wolves and now when he went to battle. It said 'Forget sense! I need instinct! I have to protect, look after, hunt, kill!'. Putting his mind in that of a canine who was transitioning from the wild thoughts to the trust of a new alpha, a human alpha, was a helpful focus. Hunt, feed, protect - strong emotional responses to times of need. His father trusted in his ability, his way of looking at things, and he did not rush him. The Imperial Army was in a rush. Maybe if the Federation just laid trap after trap, they'd kill themselves instead of getting so many people killed by clashing like deer with gunpowder antlers, everything exploding...

They'd spent so much time, the lot of them, talking and listening to things. Lucia was telling them about an incredible cathedral. Isaac wasn't one for art, but he could appreciate the complexity of architecture, the work and the craftmanship going into things. These massive monoliths built to stand the test of time were suppose to be forever. Kind of sad that a few mortars could end all that. That was the other half of war. The first was the shock and the terror. The last was the sadness and the loss. If someone blew up his farm, they'd rebuild it. The community would help, even. If someone blew up a cathedral, good fucking luck. Things built to last take a long time and alot of money. War cost people so much that you can hardly compile what the Imperials would owe to satisfy the world they were butchering. If they won this, if they beat them, that country might dissolve. Would it be worth it? Would it matter to him, or anyone who isn't a General or a otherwise position of power?

Their time of arrival was soon at hand, and that meant it was time for everybody to pick up their stuff and get going. Isaac made the rounds after Baker had given the order, calling for everybody to do just that, one name at a time. He wasn't hard. He would never be too hard on these guys, just firm. He had to be like his father, authoritive and wise, not shouting and irritating. Wolves do not bark, and hybrids maybe not often or ever. Make your howl known and move on. That was the way. Outside... Well, it was murky, but at least it wasn't raining this time. Isaac didn't like the rain, and after the first day...he doubted anyone else did either. Soon, they were out there and Middleton was coming to address his troops. As soon as he did, though, Isaac's first thought was...

Good lord, he's got one of those officer coats on.

He did, though. Middleton was wearing one of those coats - call 'em trenchcoats or greatcoats - that all the officers had, some of which seemed to be donned specifically to look and feel important, regardless of whether or not anything were truly accorded such. Knowing how the man thought, Isaac was certain that the Captain was definitely on a 'feel important' kick, looking good in front of everybody for all the vain and unnecessary reasons. Middleton started giving off his report and orders. First, it seemed that they were being split into squads. He felt confident that everyone they were with would be concidered reliableand trustworthy by all, and if they did not, then fuck you. He did not SAY that, specifically, but that is what he essentially meant. Jean was in charge of Squad One, and chances are that meant that the people surrounding him now - the people he'd been bonding with on the train - were going to be with him. He and Daniel needed to support Jean, to make sure leadership didn't break him over its knee like dry kindling. Daniel wasn't...extremely supporting. He was rather blunt, which could help or hurt, dependent on the circumstance of things. That didn't sit well with Isaac, but he'd try to manage him, if possible. If the wolf is nipping at your heels, you must dissuade him.

Now uhh...there was another instruction that Middleton had before he left. Before they were to gear up on all the stuff they would need for the day, they needed to go and change their uniforms. What Why? Well, he had to line up and get into the stores area to find out. Once inside...

"So, why are we changing our uniforms, exactly?"

The man handing him his stuff just looked at him and spoke.

"I dunno. Someone thought this was better for fitting in, meshing with then environment, and whatnot."

"We're going into a city, though, and this is...what? Forest? Dry dirt and grass? That doesn't fit in. This does."

He pointed out his own heavy flak vest.

"Where'd you get that, then? It's not standard, is it?"

"My drill sergeant thought I'd earned it. He wanted me to last longer if I got in the way of a few bullets."

"Well, I won't take it from a man what's trying to keep himself alive. That'd be a sin. Put it on over or under or whatever, but you gotta change, same as everyone else."

Over, then. He was sure that this was gonna stick out in the city, whereas his flak vest would make him less visible in the shadows, at least. Middleton's taste in soldier attire was about as bad as his own personal tastes. If they were ambushing troops in the woods, sure, but this was a bad choice. Still, he soon joined everyone else as they started to gather. Prior to marching, Jean wanted to outline the overall plan for them. This, Isaac became extremely attentive towards. He needed to know what it was he was protecting everyone FROM and FOR. Very important stuff. Apparently, they were going to cut off supply tunnels once they got into the city, part of a massive movement to break the seige by piecemeal. A long task...with appropriate footwork...one hoped. However, there were alot of things that would be hard to account for. This was a maze of streets, not a trench war. It would be like playing tag with guns, and it was not funny. Worse, the noise. Fire a gun and it could bring all kinds of attention on you, and you didn't know if it would be friend or foe, or just townspeople trying to stay alive. Jean was right to be worried, and to warn them all. Some of them seemed hopeful, Isaac tried to encourage Lucia's smile with one of his own, because it was a plan, and it sounded like it could work.

At least it's not some glory charge, like last time.

Oh, how Isaac was was going to eat those words later, when he finally worked it out.





The march onwards was long, and Isaac had been mainly focused on how he was going to keep things together once they got moving. He hadn't been thinking of the first part of the plan, about the cavaliers. He thought of tactics and the teachings that his drill sergeant had imprinted on him: The problems of noise and how to deal with them, combat in rooms, dealing with soldiers around corners, being watchful of grenades, silent take-downs, and all that. He suspected that his counterpart, Britta, was the better marksman of the two of them, but he...was probably the better killer. He'd gone through the fullness of training to survive, holding nothing back because he wanted everybody to live. So, he'd been focused on that until the clearance zone, where they had observation of the area and the cavalry.

And then, it hit him.

It hit him like a brick to the face, like the BOOM-BOOM-BOOM of the mortars of Hill 58, when they had to duck and run out of there once it was safe. Cavalry horsemen were going to charge on the weakest points to break the lines? But they weren't armed for the kind of stuff they saw at Hill 58, at all! You couldn't fire guns accurately at full charge! He'd ridden horses! You're bouncing up and down at full gallop, so who could possibly do anything right? Unless they all had machine guns, and they didn't! Isaac realized this with a cold shock overcoming him. If any of them even made it...it would be a miracle. Britta, nearby and behind him, must've come to the same conclusion and grabbed his shoulder as the horses lined up for the charge.

"Isaac-"

"I know."

"But our training-"

"I know..."

"We have to say something."

"No one will hear, or care. They won't stop it."

There was nothing they could do. If they had machine gun nests... Everyone here knew hill 58, but Isaac and Britta had both been trained specifically on the machine gun, in the best ways to strike at a charging enemy. A cavalry charge was just a big target. You could cause great chaos in the ranks of it with the appropriate gunfire. He knew. He knew and he'd simply forgot because of his focus on the mission. Those people were gonna die...they and all those beautiful horses...and he could do nothing to stop it. Isaac looked around, his thoughts turning to...yes, there. A little hard to pick her out in the new uniform with the helmet on, but there she was.

"Lucia, could I have a moment?"

The silver-haired Asseni looked over at him, a quizzical look on her face.

"Yes, Isaac...sir?"

"You don't have to call me sir."

"Okay, what is it?"

"What do you think of this uniform? I don't think it works for me. Looks kind of ugly, don't you think?"

He called her attention away from the field just as the call to charge went up, making conversation and trying to get her engaged with it, all the while counting the seconds towards the inevitable sound of gunfire. She smiled, she even laughed, and Isaac tried to keep it up, himself. He glanced back and saw Britta's head just lowered. The farm boy was just trying to get her to punch his flak vest to feel how solid it was when they both heard it.

Oh god, the noise...the cries...

It was shrill and terrible, the sound of life being lost en masse, not just human but also equine. The look on both of their faces, the horror of it, was palpable. Lucia turned to look at what was going on and Isaac pulled her back, just holding tight at the knowledge of her mounting distress.

"Don't look. Just...don't. It'll be over soon."

He could hear her trying to contain it, but he knew that Lucia must have been in tears, the way she shook at the mere imagination of what was going on. The terror of the war had a stamp on her that was unremoveable. Still, she'd managed her voice through all of this.

"Did...did you know that going to happen...?"

"Yes, I did. I'm a Gunner, so my training... I'm sorry. There's nothing I could do. If it means anything, I know now how you felt back in the trenches."

Orders made her shoot someone while looking them in the eyes. Orders made him stay here - by force, if necessary - to stand there and do nothing about the people that were going to be killed, just killed. There was nothing to be gained from this. They were slaughtered, and it may as well have been his own bullets doing it. Because nobody would have listened and he would have been just hauled away, he was just as powerless to the command as Lucia had been, effectively murdering their own people for nothing. He looked around and saw others trying to keep people from looking directly at it. Jean was focusing a couple of the girls. Michael was calling the sappers to attention. He was doing what he thought best.

"I won't let this happen to any of us. I won't let Middleton sacrifice us like that. I swear I won't..."

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Reactions – Outskirts of Amone (Sept. 9th)

---

As the time passed Diana, was back sitting down looking at her pendant necklace with a bit of regret in her eyes. In terms of blankly starring as if she was lost in her thoughts about what happened earlier and remembered what Michael had said. She couldn’t really focus until she felt the train come to a complete stop for some odd reason. The thing that snapped her from her thoughts and starring at her pendant necklace was a person ordering them to disembark. ”Great.. Don’t tell me that the ‘Captain Asshole’ is going to tell us somethings about what we are doing here or something.” Diana thought to herself with a bit of an annoyed look on her face.

She quickly put her hair back in a chignon bun, which was tightly put together and put the helmet back on her head. In terms she walked out of the cabin in question and got off the train to the murkiness of outside. She couldn’t help but feel a bit down when seeing the murkiness of the situation, which she did brighten up since she saw most of the people from her platoon especially Jean. However, she heard Captain Middleton speak about orders and where they were specifically are in terms of Amone. ”Why is he smoking at a time like this or is this what all officers in the military do? That’s nice we are going to be split in squads and Jean is going to be the leader of one of the squads.” Diana thought with mixed feelings mostly at what the Captain was wearing and doing while he spoke. However, she was still terrified of Middleton since he reminds her of the Donster family, which are really rich in Castleton’s surrounding area.

Diana blinked a bit when Middleton told them they will be getting new uniforms from the old one previously. It made her a bit worried, however, he did give her directions to get the new uniform. The Stores Tent, which was an important place in getting a new uniform. She sighed in relief when she saw Middleton leave and couldn’t really handle anymore of him anyway. In every bone of her body could relax a bit from the outright displeasure of being in the presence of Middleton’s assholic behavior. ”I’ll definitely go there since it’ll be useful. I wish he had a care in his body so he wouldn’t be such an asshole.” Diana thought to herself. She just rolled her eyes since Captain Middleton would probably never try to care about people.

---

In terms of everything, she arrived to the stores tent and asked one of the people in question about the new uniform. She was given her new uniform and told about the cubical in question to change. She walked in there and changed into her new uniform. This uniform compared to the old one was definitely felt more comfortable at least. It was an improvement over what was possible for uniform. She couldn’t help but smile at the uniform in question, in terms it fit her eye color mostly. The blue of the uniform matched pretty nicely with her outlook or really her style in question. She loves wearing blue dresses when she was at home before the conscription, however.

Diana was a bit happier, she waited for a few minutes before she finally stepped out and went to grab the rest of her gear. Since she kinda forgot the rifle on the train, which was kinda stupid to do. It took her a few minutes to reach where everyone was, in terms of Jean and the others of the Squad 1. She listened carefully to what Jean was speaking about, which helped her understand the reason why they were at Amone. It was a liberation attempt, which felt honorable in her heart. ”Squad 1 is a simple name. So Michael and Gwyn has to get rid of the supply tunnels, that’s nice.” Diana thought to herself with a smile on her face. She couldn’t help but feel that this is going to hell nonetheless, which will be in a different setting instead of a hill it’ll be in a city. In terms of everything, was said the city part scared her a bit.

She heard the two questions from Jean and smiled gently towards him. ”Jean, I do understand crystal clear. Thank you for explaining things.” Diana responded to his questions. However, when Jean patted her back kinda made her a bit hesitant about the thing. In terms of everything it made her feel a bit happier. ”Worried about something Jean?” Diana asked, curiously. She wanted to say something more but it wouldn’t be a good idea to outburst now since she needs to calm herself, but the boredom didn’t really help. The entirety of the thing was a bit funny of why she asked that. ”I think he’s worried about my outbursts. I wouldn’t want to kill anyone over him. Even though he’s so sweet and I ‘want him’ so badly.” Diana thought to herself with a gentle smile on her face. She wondered what her parents would think about her platoon mates anyways.

Diana was lost in thought and was continued to march until they got to the Clearance area to watch the Charge of the Cavalry. She was pulled back from her thoughts and looked at the Cavalry about ready to charge the Imperial position. The entire moment felt like the world stopped in front of her, while she watched the entire thing. In abject horror, she couldn’t help but feel outright helpless to see the Cavaliers being cut down by machine gun fire. She cried at the sadness at what she saw, the entire cavalier division was wiped out. In terms of everything, she couldn’t believe the high command would allow this slaughter to happen. ”They are bastards for allowing this to happen… this is outright awful.” Diana thought to herself in tears of what she saw. She overheard everyone speak around her and heard Isaac reassured them they won’t be sacrificed.

The one thought that came to her that she had her squad here to help her to get back alive to her family. She looks towards Isaac. ”We should all make it back home after this bloody war is over. Thanks Isaac for that because the ’Captain’ is a heartless bastard.” Diana said towards Isaac. She couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between Jean, Kalisa and Reyna. The thought of learning about Reyna’s home in Vinland would probably calm herself down from what she saw in terms of that slaughter. She walked over to Jean and the others and smiled happily. ”This was awful… but what’s your home like? Mine is a pretty cute two story home of people of bakers, the New Vastergoth Bakery is in the center of Castleton.” Diana injecting into the conversation between Jean, Kalisa and Reyna. In terms of that she remembered her older sisters outright being cruel to her, the one thing she doesn’t want to go home to. ”Why does Astra and Susan have to be so mean to me...” Diana whispered to no one in particular about her family problems. In terms it was only loud enough for Reyna to hear her whisper, which she was closer to.

Lucia was once again listed as a broken mess. She tried so hard to suppress her emotions, as her Captain had indicated, but felt her muscles fall prey to the immense atrocity that happened only a few hundred-odd metres away. The cavalry. Those stallions, all of which were managed and assorted by the top-tier commanders of the Federation, found themselves joining their riders in an unholy manner of death and deceit from their own comrades. It wasn't just human life that was being wasted here on the frontlines but those of the animal kingdom equally. Lucia understood little to none of this situation. Why had command ordered such a mission? What benefit had it garnered? She couldn't see the defences they ran into and wondered whether or not they'd actually done enough damage to make interception of Amone smooth and swift. Either way, Lucia was but a small isolated girl who had no true understanding of war and anguish. Anything that these pompous dictators that declared themselves democratic were clearly insulting towards those who truly understood, but Lucia had been raised to know nothing of the peers around her. Perhaps it was for the better as the truth almost hurt more than the ignorance she was forced to abide by. Silently, she looked at Isaac with an intensely weak smile, nodding with some nervousness once more. Her rifle clearly trembled in its place, its components shuddering as much as her bones were. At least, for the sweetness of her new and beautiful uniform, the insulation of her attire was warm enough to keep out the cold elements once again.

Just as Isaac had clearly been trying to do, Lucia tried her hardest to think of something happier. Perhaps she could've thought of the clear inspection Michael had of her when she wandered out with her new uniform, or maybe the spiteful, yet hilarious, trick Isaac played on her whilst she snooped around inside their mail. For a second, the first second she read it in fact, she was surprised and adamant that he was speaking the truth and trying to flatter her, which would've been problematic considering how she thought of him as an elder sibling, however the small addition to the end made it clear that it was simply to catch her off guard. Freya, having spoken to Lucia after about the mini-prank, stated that there was a lesson to learn from it, and that could be ideally implemented into her combat strategy, including not doing the same actions over and over again until someone comes up with a method of interception. Despite her questionable ways of talking to both male and female soldiers, often making remarks that Lucia would fluster over involving her somewhat unaware connection to Michael, Lucia saw Freya as an icon to look up to. She'd been introduced to Marathon and was equally as impressed by the kindness and wisdom both had to share.

However, despite that quick moment of relief, where she thought about the happiest recent memories she had held in the past week, Lucia was quickly reminded of the Cavalry charge once more when the final burst of a machine gun was heard, announcing the end of the conflict and clash of tradition and modernisation. Lucia wiped a tear from her face, trying her hardest to hide the face from her superior, Alexander. Motions of appreciation overcame her quickly as she looked towards the gunner with a nod. He announced that nothing was going to happen to her and that he personally wouldn't let her die. It warmed her heart to know of that, but the sudden voice from behind caught her off guard.

"Private Farris, come to me, now!" The demanding call couldn't have come from anyone else. Alexander-John Middleton, her Captain of orderly detainment. Lucia couldn't help but instantly stand to attention when his voice boomed over the rest of her thoughts, to which she answered almost immediately as per her newer calibrations that he'd made.

"Y-yes, Sir! Right away." As she turned to make her way over towards him, Lucia looked at Isaac quickly and whispered the acknowledgement of appreciation, just to make things clear with the Lance Corporal. "Thank you, Mr Isaac!"

With each murky step she took closer towards the Captain, she could feel her heart race faster and faster, and not for any good reasons like that around Mickey. It was something of a distinguished nervousness, fearing for her worst. However, she believed entirely that what Alexander wanted was for the best of her, to unlock that hidden soldier within her to survive the war. Lucia was completely under that impression that he wanted a successor, one who could continue the war effort where he couldn't, whether that be of a bullet strike or by the unlawful act of death. Beside the Captain was someone else, of a large rank too, who held a stance as high as Alexander usually did too. This time, however, the man looked a bit more elderly, holding a thick poster-boy moustache that looked as if it could paint four fences in one stroke. She'd only seen such large growths of facial hair in the infamous campaigns to recruit more and more of the youth and factory workers into the conflict. As she finally reached Alexander's side, which was slightly detached from the rest of the soldiers around them to give them confidentiality, she made a very weary salute towards him. Immediately, the Captain and the now-identified Major continued their conversation.

"So you say I shouldn't advance with my troops? With all due respect, Major, I cannot stress the importance of my accompaniment for...my Platoon, yes. Whether its to inspire or keep them in order, a Captain must be prepared to stay as close to the frontline as the enemy will let him." Though by rank Middleton held no authority over the Major, there was that tension between the two that led to the heated debate. The Captain was clearly under a small amount of surprise and stress to receive the news so late into their departure, yet he seemed to at least attempt to clear his name of such orders.

"The Orders are for you to remain here until Amone is secured. You will have your time to head into the breach with your Regiment after we confirm that the threat of Green Fox is no more." Lucia listened with perked interest. Who was this Fox they were on about? Was Middleton not allowed to join them for the campaign? Were they going to be alone? A mixture of emotions rushed through Lucia's mind. A bit of that much-needed freedom could finally be achieved, yet she would no longer have those calibrated directions she was so intoxicated by that it seemed like a requirement. Thus, to answer these queries she had, the conversation continued with more flame in each of their voices. "So far the Federation has lost three Warrant Officers, twelve Captains, two Majors and even a General who'd been setting up an operating base inside the city walls. You of all people should understand that he is a threat to the highest commanders. If you truly value your Regiment then you should at least surrender your watchful eye for a few days until they complete their mission. Losing you could have disastrous effects, especially when we are running low on replacement COs for regiments. You will remain here until further notice, and communication with those inside the city will be minimal, minus the opportunities to telephone them a few times. Stay patient and for God's sake follow the procedure. Dismissed."

The Major left, leaving both Lucia and Alexander to stand there in silence. She had a few questions yet she couldn't force herself to speak out of line around the Captain, so instead she remained silent. Alexander paced slightly, back and forth, before standing beside Lucia and placing a hand on her shoulders. He always did this when he had a personal order to give to her, and it always felt as discomforting as the last. Attentively, Lucia forced herself to listen with a stern face, scared of what might come out of his lips once more. Either way, she knew that it was the right thing to do if she followed them. Eventually he turned back around to face her and gave a quickfire of orders, reminding her of the situation and what she was instructed to do by him.

"Listen here, Lucia. It is imperative that you understand these words that I must shower upon you. You are going into this city of fire alone, without me. I will not be able to protect nor guide you until I am personally allowed to enter the city myself. And whilst I am putting an uneasy amount of faith that Corporal Robin-Charpentier and the rest of the squad will ultimately maintain your safety, I must tell you this. Out there, it will be very dangerous. You will be forced to adapt and to kill. Imperials, this time, at least. You must remember that out of every single living, breathing organism that resides within that city you are the most important. No one else is as important as you are. If you die, that's it. You are not a burden by these people but you cannot let them order you into danger. As soon as Jean, or anyone, orders you to do something that might compromise your life, you refuse. Do you understand? I am not having you die. Do you fucking understand?!"

Middleton shook her slightly, causing her helmet to almost slide off of her head. Lucia was fearful of this anger he showed, yet she'd already experienced far worse from the man. It was a surprise she hadn't been struck by the butt of his rifle or the back of his palm yet, but perhaps the audience nearby might've changed that incentive that the Captain had. Intuitively, Lucia silently nodded, trying her hardest not to slip up on tears. She'd been indoctrinated to not disappoint Middleton, and if she did it resulted in punishment. This was something that left her broken whenever his outbursts came like so. However, just this once, she didn't cry, but had a conflicting argument about what he meant. What if the orders were going to benefit her? It was no matter, she was taught by Alexander to put herself forward, to suppress emotions, to galvanise all fear and true intentions for the sake of becoming whatever the Captain wanted her to become. It was for his experiments and for his research, whatever that research was, to do as he said. She never knew why she was picked to suffer from such a fateful life, yet as her superior taught her she was not to question the reality she never knew.


As he first listened to Reyna, speaking of a place and a time where life could've been simpler, the Captain returned with a somewhat depressing look upon his face. Jean had never seen the man look like that before, and thus he made it strangely worrisome for those who were yet to see this side of disappointment. Perhaps the soldiers had done something he was yet to punish them for, or there was a lovely reminder that the attack had been called off. However, it was instead news that came with a bright and darker side to its telling. With foreboding stress, the Captain looked upon them and spat out the words with a poisonous tone, truly exasperating the grimness of his situation.

"Listen here, Squad 1. Platoon's 1-8 have already departed for the city, and you are all going to be setting off any minute now. The Cavalry charge has proven to be effective in creating the breach and those defenders have fallen back. I can only imagine that this is where we would all cheer, however I come with saddening news." He took off his officer's cap and unsheathed a map from his pocket, holding it for Lance Corporal Daniel to hold by forcefully placing it into his lowly hands. Within the paper's folding was the mapping of the tunnel system they would be eventually going through, however Middleton gave the new NCO a glance of intensity not to open it until the time was ready for their mission. "I will not be joining you in Amone, however. Command has just forced me against my will to pull out because of the presence of an Imperial Captain, an infamous marksman simply known as Green Fox. As he is a master marksman, and a danger towards the Federation, if he is encountered I highly recommend you kill him at any given opportunity. He's gladly murdered hundreds of soldiers and officers throughout the war, and thus you should be careful. After all, why not cripple the Imperials where it hurts in their morale and propaganda. Corporal Charpentier should know what he wants to do when it comes to approaching your tunnel system, but by all means do not let any harm come towards...Private Farris. Anyone who harms her will personally taste my bullet. Now seeing as you get a small break from me, fuck off and get going. The Federation needs you to win this."

Jean watched as the Squad began to shuffle in the direction of Amone. Quickly, he turned around and briefly, just to calm his nerves, slipped his fingers in-between Reyna's. It was a sudden reaction that even took Jean by surprise, but he held it tightly and simply looked at her, feeling slightly embarrassed himself as he quickly unwound his hands. They were only held for a few seconds, but those few seconds were enough to comfort him to a degree. Jean quickly bowed his head and hesitantly began his apology.

"U-uhh...my bad. I was just...I went for comfort and I guess I reacted a little fast. Let's...uhm...Let's just go, shall we? We don't have to run to Amone luckily, because the gunners aren't on their defences, but it should only take us around ten minutes to get to the gates." And so, Squad 1 began their movement towards Amone, slowly but surely.

“Unlucky bastards,” muttered Luke as he scanned the freshly corpse riddled battlefield, his nerves finally calm enough to keep his head straight, though the uneasy feeling remained within his gut as he knew they were to head out soon to join in the fight. It was odd really, he hadn’t felt this nervous since the first few days of boot camp. Now, as he looked out towards the carnage a few machine guns were capable of he knew it was a only a small taste of what was to come in the coming days. A small sigh escaped as his thoughts began to grow deeper on the future so he began to look over his rifle once again and felt his nervousness dull slightly as he always found a small amount of comfort in keeping his weapon in pristine condition.

While getting rid of a small smudge on the nearly shining bolt of his rifle he glanced around at his team and overheard a few of them talking, promising to look out for each other, or finding ways to find comfort before they headed out. He heard one of them, Isaac if he remembered correctly, promise to not let them all end up like the slaughtered Cavaliers. That was good to know, but he just hoped he would be able to keep that promise. After a minute or two of giving his gear one last check his head snapped up as the Captain arrived to inform them of the other Squads moving up and the defenders pulling back. A smile spread to his face upon hearing this news, though it shortly dulled a bit as he continued.

When hearing that the Captain wouldn’t be joining them in their advancement Luke held back the urge to shrug, a bit indifferent to the news. He had heard the man was an ass anyway. Then he moved on to Green Fox. Luke's smile dulled even more as he explained who this Green Fox was and held back a comment about the Captain staying back. He must have been glad since this apparent infamous marksman was gunning for people like him. Oh well, maybe he’d have a chance to take down this Green Fox, it’d be a great start to his career. Finally though the Captain came to the end of his briefing with an order to not allow a Private Farris to be harmed. Luke arched a brow at this and glanced over to the soldier with a bit of curiosity. What was so special about her? He would admit she was a cute girl, but nothing about her seemed to special. In fact she looked out of place and didn’t seem to belong on the field. He shrugged though and didn’t dwell on it to much, though he would have to learn a bit more later.

With a final fuck off and stating the Federation needed them the Captain ended his briefing and then the Squad began to move out. As he turned his back to the captain and walked along his fellow soldiers Luke couldn’t help but roll his eyes and scoff. “Well ain’t he a charming fellow? It’s almost sad we won’t have such a pleasant attitude joining us,” he sarcastically stated before letting out a sigh and resting his rifle on his shoulder while looking up towards the depressing sky above them. “He gets to hang back in comfort while we march deep in hostile territory with not only a nest of pissed off Imps ready to take a shot at us, but some master marksman who could be waiting around any nook and cranny, just waiting to blow a hole in our skulls,” he said before letting a large grin roll onto his face and giving a small chuckle. “Oh well, more fun on our end,” he stated with a final chuckle of confidence. "Amone here we come!"

---

After witnessing the slaughter, Reyna felt her head turned toward Jean, but not in any aggressive manner. Instead it was gently, as if she was a fragile piece of glass. Her mind was going a million miles per hour by the time she processed what Jean said. Her? Oh, Jean meant his sister. The pendant she was wearing was his sister's. With the mention of that, Reyna instinctively reached up to the pendant and gave a smile to Jean. Diana also came over and told them a little about their home.

Thinking about home began to calm her down, something that Reyna and in fact all of them needed. Only when she was calmed down was she able to see the logic behind everything: Jean was trying to distract everyone from going deep into the pits of insanity. It was good a good idea and one that she's seen her father use often when bad times hit on a lesser scale. A small amount of admiration in Jean's thinking rose up in Reyna before replying, not with any smile but neither with a frown, to the darcsen and Diana. "Oh...Interesting. I loved going to the local bakery in Darport! That's not a bad house either, but uh, I live in a mansion in a country town. It's really beautiful out there, with the rolling green hills and forests, not to mention the nice people! My family is kinda wealthy and own Hall Industries so we never had any problem with doing what we wanted." She heard Michael call for the sappers, but Rina decided that could wait until she was done fixing herself and tending to what Jean and the others surrounding her wanted first. One step at a time, Reyna.

That was when Middleton came back and told them to keep Lucia alive at all costs and to not put her into danger, even as they would be fighting against some legendary marksman or through a city filled with Imperials. That sparked alarm bells in Reyna's head. Wait...so if she's so important to not be harmed, why is she being put into the most possible danger? Her's was not to question why, but she questioned anyway. Was it a management mistake? Or was Middleton having some kind of relationship with Lucia?

However, something more immediate shook Reyna out of her thoughts as she felt her hand being grabbed and her heart skipping a beat as she looked to see who the culprit was: Corporal Jean Charpentier. A little redness rose in her cheeks as Reyna found herself subject to an apology. After hearing those words, Reyna started to giggle, with it getting worse by the second as she found the situation humorous and embarrassing at the same time. "G-Geez Jean! I didn't know you were so daring!" Reyna joked with a smile and a small blush. "Yeah, let's go. But first I need to see what Michael needs." With that, Reyna turned around with an attempt at a stifled giggle and went to see Michael, as he called for the sappers.

@LetMeDoStuff@Conscripts@Landaus Five-One

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Departure – Outskirts of Amone (Sept. 9th)

---

Diana couldn’t help but awe what she was hearing from Reyna, which she’s definitely the opposite of what Middleton is. However, it reminded her of the Donster family since they live in a mansion, which has some terrible history involving Darscens. It is good that the New Vastergoth’s Bakery is more well known than that terrible estate by Castleton. ”Oh that’s really nice, in terms of living in a mansion. The Vastergoth Family used to live in a mansion around 400 years ago. But my mother Rebecca told me was for all the Darscens and the constant wars between the Donster Family that caused us to leave that lifestyle behind. Rebecca always would love to meet rich families that are nicer than the feuding family. What does the Hall Industries make? Is it cars.” Diana said curiously at the end. However, her tone was a bit negative towards the Donster family in particular since they always target her family but her mother primarily deals with it.

She was deep into her thoughts about everything, until Middleton’s voice made her snap out of her thoughts. The ordering tone of voice of Middleton of to keep Lucia alive at all costs, however, made her go back into her thoughts. ”Wait… what? Middleton cares for someone… Poor Lucia… I will do what he asks even though he’s a jackass.” Diana thought to herself. She couldn’t help to nod to Middleton’s orders. However, she can’t really help but feel like Middleton deep down is not a monster and is human but only human to Lucia and no one else. In terms of that it made her sigh at that and couldn’t help but start thinking about things. ”I wonder… Diana stop thinking about that… that is gross..” Diana thought to herself, with a look of utter disgust on her face.

Diana looked at the scene of Jean holding Reyna’s hand. She smiles kindly and giggles at when she saw Reyna’s cheeks go a bit red. It causes her to have conflict feelings about what’s going on, which is going on in her head. She specifically heard what Jean had said and it made her have to say something. ”Reyna… I have to say you look cute blushing…” Diana said teasingly towards Reyna. She specifically looks directly at Jean and giggles at him, however, she couldn’t help but smile after she got done giggling. ”I have a feeling you thought me to do something different didn’t ya?” Diana asked, curiously towards Jean. She couldn’t help but smile at the whole thing but they did have to go to the hellhole that is Imperial Occupied Anome. The entire thing made her nervous, however, she felt much better after teasing Reyna instead of snapping at her. It would made her remind herself of the cavalry charge and that wasn’t a good idea right now.

@LetMeDoStuff@Bushman501

---

The most terrifying thing after anything would not be chaos nor grieves. It would be silence. The discussion that Jean was having with the ladies could not draft out the noiselessness of the aftermath. The aftermath of an era befallen. He wished he wasn't there to witness it. He just wished to be a bystander of the waves and storms, a person who merely looked back at the age and vowed not to make the same mistake. But unfortunately, he was forced to stand right in it, rowing the boat that could be capsized anytime 'He' wanted it to be.

He stood in the other corner apart from the rest of the squad as he waited for the rest of the sappers to show up. They probably didn't hear him. At first, nobody seemed to pay attention, or even assisted in gathering the guys. Well ok. It wasn't anything too important. He just wanted to get to know at least their faces before they entered the tunnel together.

His loneliness persisted until Middleton briefed the entire squad. First thing he mentioned was the most important thing to be taking in, as Michael moved forward to see the map that Daniel was forced to hold in his hand. The tunnel system. It was definitely complicated for sure, although not as fucked up as the trench layout, but there were corners that could potentially ruin a person's memory and perhaps lead to them getting lost then potentially running into unwanted enemies. And in rules of wars, being surprised would be a worst moment any soldiers could have, especially under tense combat. Michael wasn't too confident in his ability to memorize things as well. As any students would know, but probably wouldn't care, memorization would be like riding a bicycle with a flat tire. This, ironically, may be a hinder in his case. But nevertheless, he had a solution. Michael quickly reached for his pocket and reached out a piece of paper and began copying as much details of the tunnel as possible, prioritizing the pattern and important locations before moving onto the proportion between each tunnel segments before moving into the details.

'That should do it...'

Just as the map was retrieved, Michael had already scribbled down all the important information needed. He'd probably need to copy it onto another paper later, but right now was the bad news...or good? Middleton wouldn't be joining. He didn't know whether or not it was good or bad. He was indeed a decisive leader, but considering the fact that almost everybody he knew was against his reign of terror. It made him difficult to work with, and hard to carry out orders when he kept shoving it down people's throat. But in exchange was a legendary Imperial sniper Green Fox. Credited with hundreds of sniper kills, most of them disgustingly cleanly with one bullet to the brain, he was probably the Federation's most hunted enemy soldier, an outstanding soldier. Considering his status, Michael shuddered to think that he would be running under his scope. Maybe he would not bother killing a lowly soldier like him, but rather Jean, Isaac, Daniel or some other brasses would worth his time more. But who could get inside his head than him? He killed whoever he wanted.

He was praying that Green Fox's scope wouldn't find its way to his head when the next information woke him right there. Wasn't anything surprising, but really intriguing and...contradicting. He was asking for Lucia's absolute protection. To an almost questionable degree. Michael could hear it in his voice. The stress of particular words and his eye contact. He meant it. While he did not hesitate to send thousands of people to their deaths and even forced the girl he wished to protect through an emotional trauma that any weak-hearted of a person would have shot themselves right there. It felt strange to hear such caring words, even though it was conveyed through his own vulgar language, especially to Lucia. She probably had a special relationship to him. But what was the question he wanted to uncover for his own.

Then he left. Thank God he didn't press on further. It seemed enough for one day. Enough information to carry this mission out also.
The only thing left necessary was their grit and ability that they had been trained for months and the experience in the first battle for a few others, hoping that could outweigh the Imperials. And that was only for the completion of the mission. Survival, however, was a different stories.

As the squad began to move to Amone in an orderly fashion, Michael tried to call out for the sappers again. Thankfully, this time, there was actually someone who listened.

"Thanks for coming to me. One moment." He said as his hand whizzed through the paper like a lightning bolt, trying to copy down the whole map of the tunnel that Middleton showed them earlier once again onto yet another small piece of paper, or at least parts of it, using the same old tricks. Once done, he took the original one that he scribbled in the first place and handed it over to Reyna.

"Here. If you happen to forget."
@Bushman501

Why was she the one who needed protection? Oh lord...oh god...Why her of all people? Lucia knew that Middleton would never let go of her and it scared her to think that she was finally about to leave the safety of her hypocritical leader's arms. As much as she hated him, she felt a paternal love for the man, one that spoke as if he was her guiding father that had plucked her from the trees of desperation, giving her purpose. However, why was it this purpose of all things to be considered? Why was she to storm the frontlines and to kill people, innocent or wicked, for the sake of another man's orders? She was nothing more than the sick man of the Federation; Lucia was indeed the soft underbelly to all of the morale that had been swept across this putrid battlefield. The soldiers around her had showered her with attention unlike ever before as soon as Hill 58's excursion was finished and written off as another success on some other officer's quota.

Unfortunately, Lucia wasn't acutely aware of such realities of the war. Instead, she followed her calibrations. Some of those around her started to whisper or mutter things behind the Captain's back once he left. She had a duty to speak up and defend the one who'd somehow saved her from the spiral downwards into a life without purpose. However, for once, Lucia kept her mouth closed and instead walked over to Michael, with some desperation of calming required in her mind. She knew that he would be the ideal person to approach when her mind was filled with such tragedies: the cavalry charge, the parting from her abusive guardian...It was all starting to trouble her and make her feel like an eerie pressure of truth was being laid down upon her.

As she got closer, she saw that he was likely focused on the others, which was a change Lucia didn't like as much. Despite the pressing times, Lucia always felt that little bit warmer on the inside whenever the two shared a laugh, she embarrassed him or simply took the second to cross gaze's for a split second. Those were the times to live and die for, of course. And so, she longingly waited for him to be mid-sentence with whichever Sapper there was left to discuss tactics with before she suddenly leapt forward, wrapping her small and tiny arms around him to take him off of his guard. She knew that this was likely the best way to try and subvert everyone's attention away from the recent tragedies, and instead to bring more focus on her and Michael as it was.

"Mickeeeeey, I need someone to talk to. P-Please?" She hesitated towards the end, hoping that they would cross gaze's once more, though it was mainly to tease him once more and jokingly give everyone the impression that they were already a couple. Well, it was a bit early to assume it, but at least those predictions could count towards anything she desired. Whilst deep down she felt sad and torn between the events, she kept her smile and tightened the grip around Michael further. In terms of embarrassment, Lucia decided to smile and play the ultimately scandalous sentence towards him, hoping to crack a few laughs and drive everyone's mood upwards before they arrived in Amone. "Besides, I saw you looking at me when I got into my new uniform, so you can't try to ignore me now!"


Jean's face was taken aback as she, the lovely Reyna, looked upon him and embarrassingly called him daring, whilst she herself was also hesitating to mutter the words of it. Truth be-told, Jean's hand-holding endeavour, whilst soft, gentle and sweet to the touch, was still likely very embarrassing to the two of them. It probably didn't help that there were others around them in every direction, who may have potentially seen, especially Diana. It could be catastrophic if Diana saw him potentially flirting or trying to fall in love with other females in the group. If she hadn't of proclaimed her love for him on the day they'd met, things may had become a lot easier down the road between the two, but Jean definitely had a strange nervousness around her. It wasn't that Diana was a bad looking individual, but rather one with a personality that seemed like it would kill the nearest competition that came in sight. Plus, without them actually being a couple, Jean didn't want to subvert others' expectations to manifest some form of false relationship concurrent on that day between both Diana and the Corporal.

He couldn't help but fluster and smile himself when he saw the genuine reaction she had to offer. It was...amazing. Jean couldn't help but see a strange light in her reddened cheeks when she spoke, embarrassingly teasing him back for the act of hand holding so daringly. Even Jean felt something flutter deep inside as he looked back towards her with a smile of his own. A response that was equally as hysterically joke-worthy and one that only had the intention to return the playful tease she'd spoken to him.

"H-Hey...I ran through bullets for the Platoon but I guess that was more exciting. Why, can't handle a little hand-hold?" As she laughed, Jean laughed too, not noticing that there was a lurking threat amongst them. Diana, like a shark, was preying upon them. If only he'd seen the early warnings and-

Oh, Diana said something relatively nice that didn't challenge the flirtatious teasing between both the Vinlander and the Francian. It completely took him by surprise, even with her looking up at him and even questioning whether or not he thought she'd act differently. Jean opened his mouth to speak, but found himself halting and stalling, before closing it once more. He didn't want to say that he expected her to murder him in cold blood, driving a bayonet through Jean's stomach and into Reyna to kill both birds with a single blade whilst screaming at the top of her lungs about how if she can't have Jean, no one can. It was a dark thought, but still there was that inner possibility. Instead, he simply let Reyna leave for whatever second she must've needed, continuing to let his legs carry him away.

Amone seemed to start getting closer. A few piles of rubble and debris of old homes destroyed in the early days of Amone's fighting grounds were passed on their left and right. With every ten or so metres, they started to become more apparent, showing that they were now approaching the entrance towards the defences the Cavalry had foolishly been made to charge. At least there weren't any machine gunners, but were really the 300 lives of horses and riders worth just a few measly automatic gunners? Part of Jean understood the decision, regardless if he agreed or disagreed. After seeing Hill 58's use of machine guns, the unstoppable dictators of the battlefield could cut down armies if there were just a couple. Jean could've imagined that the officers higher up saw the light infantry far more important than some measly expendable and outdated traditional warriors. Jean still hated the fact that someone considered those human lives to be nothing more than expendable. What made it worse was Jean had no clue that the Cavalry Regiment was made up of roughly 250 Darcsen prisoners, as well as 50 non-darcsen prisoners as per a punishment. Maybe one or two of them were not from the cells of the abysses, but if only he knew the true meaning behind their sacrifice, he would've likely turned around, taken his rifle and shot every single officer that stood in his god forsaken, bloody way...


The approaching autumn wetness was starting to bog down some of the streets and lands outside of the city. If he truly wanted, he could've walked up to the city walls, lined up his optics and spat lead upon all those who came to oppose the city. However, for once this was a man whose expectations were often miscalculated by both those at home and those in his gun-sights. The first few waves of freshly deployed Federation troops had been reported entering the city, meaning that many of them were walking straight into a crossfire section for the Imperial ambushes. It felt so disgruntled to waste such human life so quickly, yet he couldn't exactly complain considering the kill count he had under his helmet. Instead, he simply watched onwards, waiting at the top of the church tower with his portable ragnite heater beside him. If it weren't for the concrete cover above him, he'd have been washed away by the now heavy downpour that plagued the Federation city of Amone.

He dreamt of a day that the war would end, though it would've been an honour to continue the fight for what he believed in. Unfortunately for him, both his ways of honourable conflict and humanitarianism were both conflicting towards one another. It didn't matter whether he was a famous marksman or not: war didn't let men be men or women be women. Instead, it turned monsters into those of mankind, turning their gunsights against one another until they were all dead. Every. Single. One of them.

His promise was heard by more than just the girl nearby him. But then, he wasn't exactly quiet about it either. What did it matter if Diana or Britta or anyone else overheard him? He meant it. This kind of situation, where people were fed into a meat-grinder... He wouldn't let that happen. That over-the-hill charge was the limit, the very limit. The cavalry had charged those machine guns and were just killed - man, woman, and horse. What kind of war was this, where even the animals suffered? They didn't even understand it the same way people do. Why should they be made to suffer? It's ironic, because when he was just a boy and he asked that about their livestocking, his father just smiled and said "It's because they don't understand that we don't let them suffer. The animals we eat live comfortable lives until they're ready for the day, and then - by law, if not by the grace of god - the end comes quick. We owe them much, so that courtesy is one I will always extend.". Isaac had never heard an animal suffering in his life, because of that. It was just one more scar to add to the group of them this war was putting upon him.

So, as you can see, he and Lucia both tried to think of something better than the moment now, but then something shattered the moment they were having. You get three guesses, and the first two don't count. Yeah, that's right. It was Middleton, getting in the middle of everything. He demanded her at his side for...god knows what. A search for disloyal troops? Minesweeping? Writing his biography for him? Whatever he was putting her through, it wasn't right. Lucia had to go and see what new fresh hell the Captain wanted her for, but not before thanking Isaac for his help. The only thing of it was...well...

'Mister Isaac'? Good god, I've only got a couple of years on her. Am I being aged by the war that fast? I'm gonna be 83 by the time I get out of this!

Britta had a comment to chime in with, smirking all the way.

"It's the promise you made. You just got bigger and more important to her."

"Did everyone overhear that?"

Maybe. If they did, they weren't all telling. He went around the squad, making sure everyone else was relatively okay. It was a little while when Middleton came back with what Isaac had been dreading this whole time: Orders. And the gall of that man! The cavalry suceeded?! That wasn't success! That was a massacre! Middleton must've been born with his head on backwards! There was an outright scowl on Isaac's face as he continued, going on to say how 'unfortunate' that he couldn't be joining them for their hellish city battle. Mind you, if he was scared, it sounded like he had a reason to be: There was a special operative in the area, codenamed Green Fox. He also said he wanted everyone to look after Lucia, which they wouldn't mind doing, but frankly...

Stop pretending like you give a damn about people, you shit. You can right fuck off too.

And with that, the spell was broken because Middleton was leaving and Isaac saw Jean's hand in Reyna's for a moment there. That was definitely smile-worthy. He heard Luke talking about Middleton and their orders, and...well...it's a damn good thing that his mood had improved. He didn't want to lay it down heavy on the new guy about things. It wouldn't seem right.

"I didn't play 'Soldier' as a kid. I don't think we should, even now. But if we have to, we have to. You can trust Jean and I on things. We'll get through this."

And so, the march began, Isaac simultaneously starting his lookout for trouble and wondering just what sort of person the Green Fox was. Marksman implied a rifle-user. A name like Green Fox meant that he was tricky, slippery. Isaac hadn't seen fox hunts and, honestly, he wouldn't want to. He'd be the one rooting for the fox. Just the same, if they found this one around, they had to aim to kill. There was no telling what he was capable of, what he'd do, or-

Suddenly, it was again with 'Mickey', and everyone who was in earshot would probably turn their heads. Lucia was trying to grab Michael's attention in the biggest way possible. It was all very distracting, getting a chuckle out of Isaac, for he knew what she was doing. She was getting their minds off of dark matters at hand. The cavalry charge? The Green Fox? Middleton? They were no match for Lucia Farris. She was way too good. Isaac heard Britta trying to keep quiet with laughter nearby, but both he and she lost it when the silver-haired girl started accusing him of staring at her in her new uniform!

"Mickey- I mean, Michael! How could you?! Captain Grumpus will have us all in chains!"

Yup! Captain Grumpus. He went there.

Diana’s Brutal Reality – Laughter – Outskirts of Amone (Sept. 9th)

---

Diana couldn’t help but look directly at Jean and Reyna with a happy little smile on her face. She saw his facial features move about and tried to say something but didn’t. However, the look on her face was a bit curious and had a gentle smile. ”Cat got your tongue? My mother Rebecca is a bit weird with her sayings. I still have no idea why she says it.” Diana said, with a gentle smile. Her tone was a bit confused and what not because her mother always confuses her most of the time. However, she did enjoy teasing since she did involve herself in teasing Reyna too. ”I need to ask mother many things… Fuck… I completely forgot to write my parents. I guess I could wait until later?” Diana thought to herself. She had a frustrated look on her face, which involved completely forgetting to write her parents about what’s happening with her.

The lost in thought and frustrated Diana couldn’t help but feel loss in thought, however. She snapped out of the thought corundum, which is the New Vastergoth Bakery. It was because of Lucia snapped her out of her frustrated feelings, which she couldn’t help but laugh and hear specifically what Lucia had said. ”Aww… that is super cute.” Diana said, quiet enough but she did say it. However, with what she could overhear Isaac say to another soldier, which she introduced herself. ”I tried to play soldier and was forced into this via conscription… methinks I got the worse end of the deal here. The patriotic bullshit really got me into trouble. Mom always told me not to be overly patriotic. I think I finally realize what she meant.” Diana thought to herself, constantly reminded about her time in conscription boot camp. It was soothing that no one tries to play soldier, which she definitely did and she kinda regrets that.

Diana couldn’t help but hear what Lucia had said next, which made her to burst out in laughter. ”Oh my… that’s scandalous why would Michael do that? However, that’s pretty cute though.” Diana thought to herself. The most hilarious thing happened with what Isaac had said specifically about Middleton. ”Captain Grumpus, what did he do steal Christmas? Michael, what’s wrong with you?” Diana asked, curiously with a bit of a teasing in there. Lucia was definitely a bright spot in the platoon in general. She couldn’t help but smile at how cute Lucia is. However, she followed everyone towards Amone with a bit of happier tone to her since she couldn’t really feel down even though the weather was definitely not really that good for her. It was too much of a damper on the parade in terms of her thoughts.

She couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy about all this, how many people have to die until the bloody war will be over. ”Mother, I will come home and hopefully we can have a chat about the things I have seen in this war. There’s many things I need to ask of you...” Diana thought to herself. She moves her hand closer to her chest only to touch where her pendant necklace is. It has sentimental value to her since her parents did buy it for her birthday. It made her to push forward, however, she did snap out of her thoughts to see what was ahead, which was destroyed buildings and what not. ”The hell… this city looks like a wreck.” Diana thought to herself, with a bit of realization that war is hell and hopefully it’ll be over sooner than later.

---

It's a funny thing, seeing a body. It doesn't matter what you do to prepare for it. You can spend all day reading books about it. You can tell yourself that its not any worse than looking at someone who was sleeping. But until you see them first hand, until you smell the stench of cordite and blood in the and see the bullet wounds, you will never, ever be prepared for it.

Gwyn certainly wasn't. Bodies and bits of bodies lay strewn around carelessly. There were clots of blood and spent cartridges and bits of green metallic-looking slime floating among the pools of viscera, as though the battlefield was a perverse art project of an uncaring God. He found it more merciful to look at those left unrecognisable from the assault - though it was hard to reconcile that the pinkish-red heaps of mulch were once loving spouses, parents and siblings, it was far, far harder to stare at the mangled mass of limbs that twitched spasmodically. Gwyn could only hope that was caused by a stray bullet in the nervous system and wasn't the desperate attempts of someone too far gone to drag themselves to safety. Blackened hands reached for him, eyeless heads stared at him, gashed stomachs disgorged their contents at him.

This was not war. This was murder.

Hollow, in the back of his mind, he could hear Michael calling for the sappers, but his legs would not move to obey. His eyes were fixated on one corpse in particular. Even i their bullet-riddled state, he could see their face, twisted in a cry of fear and pain. They couldn't have been any older than he was. What, he wondered, were their last thoughts? Did they think about the people back home? The boy or girl they had left, promising to return to at the end of the war? Did they think of survival, of desperately pushing their innards back into place and telling themselves that reassuring lie that they were going to make it? Or perhaps they didn't have time to think of anything at all. Perhaps - hopefully - the bullets killed them before they could realise what was happening.

Michael's voice rang out again. This time, he was able to drag himself over to where the soldier stood and let out a half-choked "Sir?"

@Conscripts

If Ines was anyone else, she should have - and would have - been home by now. If she weren't such a headstrong Darcsen with a bad reputation and a peculiar gift at narrowly avoiding death twenty times a day, she'd be halfway to General by now. But all the higher ups had for her were slim escapes from disaster at the brink of utter annihilation. When you're a Darcsen, you don't expect a promotion. Ines certainly didn't. She expected the worst to come of anything, and because of that, she surprised herself a lot.

Look at it this way; when even the slightest shift of the fragile, temperamental mindset of a lighthead is what determines life or death on the daily for a Darcsen, you get to know them pretty well. Ines knew she wasn't going to be winning any Silver Crosses or Iron Crowns for...anything, actually. She might get a stripe, someday, but she wasn't hopeful. It was moreso a miracle she had gotten to where she was now, even, and that somewhere was boarded towards another deathtrip destined to another deathshed in No Man's Land. Couldn't be worse than a Ostend Riot.

Oceanians were supposed to be tough, capable. Rugged and forged from rocks and desert. What she got instead of a bunch of mountain men were kids barely younger than herself getting giddy on being shoved onto a meat locker. "The Imps couldn't last a day in the outback", she heard. "Imps aren't anything but a bunch of old coots playing pretend on some knighthood dream." Spoken like someone who'd never seen a battle before. Should she have told something? Did she have doubts about them? Of course. But they weren't going to listen to some stone-faced bitch go on about how they're setting themselves up to get killed. Nobody listens to a Darcsen until it comes to bite them in the ass. If she was supposed to be cramped back in with some group of hillbillies from a backwater town with 50,000 people and 3 last names, she was in for another ride. At least she could tell which ones had seen combat. If they talked to you, they were green as grass. If they talked to you about being a Darcsen, it's 50/50. Talked about kicking Imp ass in a giddy kid-at-the-candy-shop voice? Never seen a gun before they went to basic training. Word to the wise; don't try to chat up the Darcsen with a resting bitch face that makes it seem like she's on her fifth tour and she's the last of the 500 draftees in her pool. Most of the new guys around here got that. Most.

Still, even off the train, Ines had new orders. She didn't bother really taking a deep look into them; Without opening them, she knew what it was going to be. Who she'd be under, what band she'd hang around with, who'd be telling her to do what for how long. Out from her coat pocket came the tiny folded letter, stamped in cheap black tar that still smelled like steamship exhaust.

---

---

Not even an in-person briefing? Ines wondered. She was surprised, is what; they typically didn't bother too much with the letters if you weren't an officer. St Martin was a weird one, Ines knew. Dammit, she was starting to like him.

Everyone got into their positions for the speech, all huddled together and packed like a meat tin. Ines found herself wishing she'd done the smart thing and found a place to hole up. Now she's out here listening to some lines of drivel from Captain Middle-Child-Syndrome. Names here, some ranks there, he's the captain and we're not; Ines wasn't too keen on taking notes on his little speech. Ines got to know a lot of Middletons in both of her careers; She walked their graves every day. If you give some upper-class twit drunk off power and a uniform with 'special' written on it, eventually someone's going to decide they aren't that special. People like Middleton always had bark, some bite, maybe a bit of brains, and no balls. Middleton was going to put every man, woman, child, dog, cat, and living being between him and some Imp looking for his first officer kill. None of them ever thought long-term, nor did any of them have bite to match when the push came to shove. Always in the back, always the first one to shoot a deserter and the first one to retreat. He could have his pride on killing four men in hand-to-hand combat. For a Shocktrooper, that was called "Tuesday."

Fuck, I wish I still had my pistol... she thought. Left it behind when she got signed on. Her mother had to have something to keep herself safe - as safe as she could be in that shithole of a city - though it was more of a gesture of security than a measure to protect her. Real thing of beauty that thing was, too; Archambault Model 1907 Naval, blued finish, 10 rounds of 8mm on tap. Would have been great to have around the trenches - those things were always appreciated for close encounters. The emptiness of her holster bothered her, too. Felt like she was supposed to have something there. Or because something used to be there.

If there was a feeling worse than a missing pistol, it came when Ines looked up and saw a band of horsemen, given rifles in a perfect line. They all had smiles on their faces, each and every one.

Oh no...don't tell me...

What do you do when you know someone's about to die, but you can't do anything to help them? Where they were, she could yell all she wanted, sure, but orders were orders to them. Either they went to the lines or went home in boxes, courtesy of the Court Marshall. It was so eerie, too. Did she have any doubts, any traitorous grievances against sending people to their deaths? Sure. But she kept them to herself; Not out of fear of reprisal, no, but out of futility. Out of the fact she knew they were in whatever God even gave a fuck by now's hands. How they sung, all in unison, almost like the procession to the funeral-goers. Like they were singing the incantation to their death warrants. It wasn't a war song. It was more like a hex. A steady, wavering, undulating chant. And they raised their swords, high as could be, like sacrificial daggers to a horrific cult, and they went on their way.

There was that bark of machine gun fire Ines was too familiar with. She could almost feel how the bullets rippled and whistled as they passed from hundreds of meters away. What they were doing wasn't too dissimilar to what she did, really. They made bigger targets, and they had none of the training, none of the instincts to duck or weave or dive behind the hill. No grenades or smoke or covering fire. Pure fucking lambs to the slaughter. No tactics. No sense behind it. Not a single fuck given. Dozens - hundreds, even - of men and women on horses, just wasted like that. May as well have just shot them right at camp. And it was that disregard, that apathy, that festering sense of fucking stupidity that drove Ines. It drove her straight to her stomach in sickness. She didn't weep nor cry, nor shed a single tear. She scowled, long and hard, and finished it in a disgruntled scoff.

Way to go, Captain Moron. Ines thought, You just fucking killed a hundred people for no good reason. You've really outdone yourself. Your mother must be so proud of you.

"Did they teach him that at officer training, or did he come up with that himself..." she scoffed, blankly staring out to the field of corpses. Eyes from all directions turned their attention, but with how they turned their heads - their eyes all wide and canted - they didn't dare disagree. Not to a truant. Not to a traitor. Not even to a Darcsen. You never got far out here without a dark, morbid, really just fucked-up sense of humor. It was one of the only things that kept you something close to sane.

All that was left to do was to put it past her. Detachment was key. She felt bad - you had to feel bad, for them, for knowing it could have been you, for not doing something to stop it - but there wasn't any chance in Hell she was going to save any one of them now. Wherever those cavaliers were now, it was a long ways from here...and more than likely, somewhere better than this Hell on Earth. She especially felt for the few who'd live through this. That's something she knew they were going to have to carry with them. That wasn't leaving them anytime soon, having their horses collapse under them, their friends blow into bits. And they weren't getting any medals for their valiance, either. They were getting told to suck it up and keep on marching like good little soldiers. And they wonder why desertion's such a popular way to go.

Corporal Jean Robin-Charpentier. Darcsen guy. Should be an improvement over the past few squad leaders she's had. Not to get her hopes up, of course - Ines knew better than that - but it would beat farmboys who only got promoted because they kept their heads down longer than the sucker in front of them. Look for the guy with blue hair and a chevron. Can't be hard.

---

Those cigarettes from Vinland people passed as currency around here weren't worth shit if you knew anything about having taste buds that worked. That cheap, dry shit should have been tossed out as mulch, not sold to people at premium. You may as well roll up ration wrapping paper and smoke it. She didn't bother taking a drag from cigarettes now, just the good stuff. That Kandahar Kush. Stuff from the southern mountains, just beyond the Imperial border in the east. Once you had that stuff, there was no going back to tobacco. It wasn't like it grew on the ground where you walked, but it wasn't something some craftiness couldn't get around. Ines would gladly fork over a whole carton of cigs just to get a few nips of that stuff. And in her case, she still had a decent set to go off of, if she played it conservatively. Striking a match alongside the rigid, charred side, Ines held her breath, lighting the end of her cig to take a lighting puff.

A steady stream of puffy smoke exhumed through her mouth, still chomping away at her roll. And just through that smoke, there was the man of the hour; The Darcsen himself.

---

From where Jean was standing, it seemed like Ines was some sort of veteran of ten thousand campaigns, walking toward the squad like she knew better than them. Bright blue eyes came around, locked onto him with a sheer determination a woman with something on her mind had a monopoly on providing. And boy, by the way she was puffing on her light, that woman really did know a lot. Didn't help that she didn't bother smiling the whole way while she walked. Instead, she was dead-locked on Jean, and she wasn't giving him any wiggle room to divert his attention elsewhere.

The left sleeve of her jacket - still an old iteration - showed its faint scarring of patches sewn and ripped, several times, as unfinished stitching lined the vague bright shadow of what used to be a patch...or even series of them. Ines' face didn't seem much easier on the eyes, either. She gave him the eyes that looked like she'd killed more people than he'd ever met. Clearly she'd been through a lot, even for a Darcsen. Being a Darcsen was probably just the icing on the cake for her. Someone could imagine that woman talking via her choleric demeanor, demanding someone take the initiative to ask her to put out her smoke.

Go on. Ask me to put it out. Make my day.

Talk to me, and you're a dead man.

Don't waste my time.

What the fuck do you want? You think you're hot shit because you have a little arrow on your sleeve?


The list went on and on. That face said it all for her. But, as she puffed through her sweet, short drag, her eyes narrowed, eyebrows raised, and shoulders rolled in preparation for her first words for Jean.

"'Sup."

Two fingers plucked her cig out of her mouth, lowering it to just above her waistline, almost out of courtesy to her new superior. Her shoulders lowered, relaxing, and her upper body almost exhaling tension into a relaxed posture. Those eyes were stern as ever, of course - sharp as knives and so keen you felt her glare - but the way her mouth rolled into a slight slope expressed her sympathies.

"Levesque. You must be Charpentier." Ines greeted. Her right hand stuck out, almost jabbing toward his abs like an arrowhead, yet stopped in slightly splayed openness.

"I'll be part of your squad from here on out."

@LetMeDoStuff

Jean continued to wander with his body facing Reyna. Even now, in the desolate fields of rubble and broken housing, she still somehow looked remarkable, as if a beacon of hope. Perhaps there was a future where he could sit down and meet her without the constant threat of imperial gunfire keeping them on edge. Though it was one of the few things he couldn't complain about: if he hadn't of been involved in this war, he would have never met Reyna nor any of the amazing, and not-so-amazing, individuals who'd surrounded him the past few weeks as comrades and friends. Jean was ultimately thankful for that. These were people who were mostly in similar situations or of wildly different origins, yet they were all conjoined together by circumstance under the pompous reign of tyranny and warfare. Jean, as an individual, was fearful for his life, but collectively they were all strong together it seemed. Despite this, the realist within his mind reminded him that they'd only lived through one harsh battle. Amone was going to be another story that would forever change their perspective on the conflict.

When the winds picked up once more, followed by the increasing downpour pitter-pattering across his rimmed helmet, Jean loked towards Reyna for warmth once more, before nodding to himself and opening his mouth once more. Even if she had something to say back, perhaps in embarrassment or perhaps humour towards his somewhat flirty manner, at least he could try to get the last laugh out of the situation. With a quick smirk, only just resisting the urge to wink at her, he teased her once more.

"At least you seem to be happier. Can't say you look better when you don't smile the same smile you did when you first approached me, c-can I?" Jean hesitated on the final statement. Had he really been that obvious? Oh god. What was she going to think? Jean had a mini panic on the inside as he thought of all the potential cases that could come by if she took it poorly, and he turned his head with worry. Within the instant, he laughed to himself, or rather at himself, as he hopelessly felt his own face fluster and blemish from embarrassment. Quicker than before, he decided to change the conversation. "I'll...Well, it's a shame, really...Everything around us seems to be destroyed thus far. I can barely recognise this city based on the pictures you'd always see on the little postcards."

Amone was one of those cities that was an attraction hub for nearly every walk of life. Assen used it as its pride accomplishment for the entertainment and tourism potential it held. Jean had heard of the religious symbolism and importance surrounding it, mainly for the Cruxian faith, which was orchestrated within the Cathedral of Light at the northern heart of the urbanised jungle. There was a strong part of Jean that whimpered at the thought of what the rest of the city looked like. From an outside, it was difficult to comprehend or imagine, especially as the biggest obstacle was now being approached. Before them stood the grand walls of Amone.

In the days of knighthood and the first era of gunpowder, Amone was a place of virtuous importance. Whoever controlled Amone controlled the morality of the Cruxian followers. When those who used to fight mainly over religious beliefs rather than political agendas took the centre stage, the Cruxian and Yggdist conflicts were keen on controlling cities of such vast religious importance. Stories of sieges and other vast castle wars were known to engulf small pockets of continental Europa. Those who went on vicious crusades were listed as heroes and the ideas of glory in warfare was born, something that carried on to that very day of 1914EC. The walls were designed to be fascinating barricades that kept out all Yggdist and bandit invaders threatening the holy city hub of the Cruxian faith. Whilst it must've been painful for Michael to see this glorious city in a wreckage from the outside, the walls still stood high and strong. However, directly in front of them, the largest of gaping holes could be seen breached into the settlement. Jean saw major irony that the warfare those spoke of in the past was now a mass slaughter at the pull of a trigger. Nowadays it was kill or be killed on a mass selection of victims. Jean was one of the millions of Europans caught in this desperate fight. It saddened him to think he was nothing more than a number.

The large group started to get closer to the breach in the wall. Several platoons had already gotten inside and dispersed into several directions whereas Squad 1 were still making their unmerry way over. There was still a looming desperation of sorrow surrounding the group, who'd now passed the undefended outskirts that the Cavalry had suffered from. For a small while, no one said anything. Jean continued to walk alone, though surrounded by his squad mates and...particular interests. Until then, he was suddenly snapped out of his position when another voice came out. With a quick jab, one that almost made him feel like it was going to be a punch, a newly intriguing Darcsen girl was now upon them.

Jean froze for a moment. Unlike Reyna, where he was awestruck by her beauty at the first minute, Jean was more concerned about the state of this similarly aged woman. She looked as if she'd been through hell and back, however her age said all the more different about how she truly had been. Clearly a newer replacement, as she'd not been present during the first formation of the Atlantic Rifles regiment, she had a strange aggression to her stance and approach. Jean cautiously stopped, looking towards her with some slight confusion. She introduced herself by her surname, of course: Levesque. What's more, she was clearly amongst the sea of faces that were not yet introduced to the more senior team. Jean nodded gently and composed himself after the prod, smiling hesitantly towards her.

"Oh...Uhm...Hello, there. I imagine you're one of the newer replacements, as the officers have been begrudgingly calling you guys. Y-Yeah, I'm Corporal Robin-Charpentier. Don't want to create a bad environment, so obviously you're already a welcomed member. I like to think that everyone in this Squad can get along well and truly. After all, what is a battle without camaraderie? Though I couldn't exactly say you volunteered at a...good time." Jean's head tilted up towards the walls they were now standing at the base of. Concrete and standing roughly twenty three metres in the air, they stared back down at the puny soldiers wandering within its walls. Once they crossed this wall, it was likely that it would be a very long time before any of them saw the outside world once more. Hell, Jean even knew that in such a cold and cruel fashion as the world abode by, many of the men, women and children entering Amone would never return and would soon find this holy relic to be their burial grounds. To put his mind off of this, Jean clearly just thought of Reyna for a moment.

Diana’s Brutal Reality – The Harsh Landscape – Amone City’s Walls (Sept. 9th)

---

Diana couldn’t help but overhear with what Jean said specifically towards Reyna. It wasn’t that hard to overhear since she was earshot from him. She had a bit of a plainly look of he’s getting better at least in some areas. ”I think I shouldn’t have scared Jean… Methinks that was a dumb mistake on my part. Uhh, fuck… Rebecca told me not to scare off any potential mates. Damn it why didn’t I remembered it that sooner. I could’ve avoided this entire thing of terrifying Jean.” Diana thought to herself. She sighs at the fact she finally remembered specifically that when she already kinda said she wants him on a battlefield before this one. However, when he changed the conversation she decides to speak up. ”Yeah… I have to agree with that. Also I’m sorry for being so forthcoming with my affection for you...” Diana said apologizing. The Vastergoth way of apologizing is saving face, it’s a bit of a tradition in their long history. However, they have never apologized to complete assholes like the Donster Family.

She starts thinking on all the things, which she thought of but couldn’t stop being really happy to be around Jean and everyone in the Squad. They are like the best thing to happen to her, all the while helping her learn War things. She didn’t like what happened to the city in question, since it was a city of a different religion that got bombarded by the overzealous Imperials. She couldn’t really help but feel a bit bad for what had happened to this great city by the enemy. The buildings were all but ruins similar to the church ruins on the hill. ”That’s fucking annoying, why do religions have to fight? I’m grateful my family didn’t want to be apart of the overzealous Yggdist religion. Because they are awful. Mostly because of the Donster Family did what the Imperials still do. I think they are called Darscen hunts? That’s what Rebecca gave me in terms of what the Donster Family was all about.” Diana thought to herself, with a facial expression of utter frustration on the entire religious war nonsense. It caused her to be lost in her thoughts, which caused her to be a bit seething at the fact of all this nonsensical bloodshed in a war.

Diana couldn’t help but notice the breaches in the wall, which was specifically couldn’t help her to think something stupid. ”Uhh, Damn… that’s a big hole.” Diana thought to herself. It reminded her specifically of what her mother Rebecca tried to pull off with a stand up routine in a bar, since that’s what her father Gavin told her. That specific thought crossed her head alike her mother. ”My mother Rebecca always told me that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I can understand that now...” Diana thought to herself. Her body language was a bit more annoyed that later on in her life she’ll be just like her mother. She couldn’t help but sigh at that. After all the thoughts, she completely became silent since they were passing by the land where the Cavalry was butchered by the enemy.

It took a few minutes until she heard a voice, which went straight to the point. She turns to look at said person and notices it was another Darscen in question. However, it looked like she had extremely more experience than lil ole her. She hears her last name as Levesque and smiles. ”Oh hello, Ms. Levesque. It is nice of you to join our squad. My name is Diana Elana Vastergoth. I have to agree with Jean on that one Camaraderie is quite good for morale.” Diana said with a smile on meeting someone new. She enjoys the company of everyone especially meeting new people and it is in her blood to literally be kind to every single Darscen. The Vastergoth’s have a long history of defending Darscens from the evils of the hunts around Castleton along time ago. ”Uhh, at least you weren’t Conscripted like I was into this war.” Diana added to what she said to Miss Levesque. It is true she was conscripted to this bloody war and its definitely not a good thing. Since the command structure in this war feels like they are trying to kill Jean’s squad like crazy. ”I hope nothing happens to our squad… I still wonder what this bloody mask is for though...” Diana thought to herself with a slight annoyance on her face. She hasn’t really known anything that requires a face mask for a war. Nothing prepared her for what that mask is used for.

---

His call was perhaps better heard once the cavalry charge and the rest of the squad had already been more distracted from the massacre that just happened. After Reyna, another sapper made it to him, keeping Michael's hand busy for the time being. The sketch was so fast it became second talent. The charcoal pencil was slowly grinding its life away, but was still standing strong as Michael finished one more map for the waiting sapper. On to the next one. That next one turned out to be Gwyn. His half-voiced voice told the other sapper that he wasn't taking this well. It was a reminder in fact. Michael wasn't just looking into a scared man, a man just been near paralyzed by a sight that could haunt anyone in their dreams. He was looking at himself. He was there. He had stared as a person, a stranger whom he had shed a bit of care for, died in front of him and on top of him. He had stared as hundreds got mangled under ruthless artillery fire, twice. He had stared as the stench of blood, decay, flesh mixed with mud and rain painted the masterpiece of hell on Earth. And yet it was merely weeks from then, in a war that had lasted two years. And now he was watching himself through this again.

"Here." He neatly ripped the paper from his notebook, showing the detailed picture of the tunnel map that Gwyn would've resembled the one Middleton had shown him. "I'm not a sir by the way. We're on the same boat just as the rest of the squad." He politely corrected the younger Edinburghian soldier as he lightly held onto the guy's left shoulder before letting him join the rest of the squad.

Now that Gwyn had had his share of emotions, even if he didn't want to, it was indeed an infectious aura. Maybe because Michael was deficient to such anyway. He knew war wasn't any glorious as the recruitment officer or the media had been spouting out to keep the heads rolling into the grinder. But the gag was already too old. There was nothing he could do about it. Despite being of slightly higher prestige than a normal person, he was still nothing more than a pawn. And there was no way in hell he could get pass that in the near distant future. But he wasn't alone. He was with thousands of people, among them some of the squad members that he had gotten the rare opportunity to get to know personally whereas his normal self would not under normal circumstances. People like Jean, Isaac, Diana, Britta or Lucia. Lucia...Yeah, they did make this journey a little less hellish.

Speaking of her, ahh god damn it. Now that he had turned this on, he couldn't turn this off again. Why was it that she was the image that he thought most when his comrades popped up? Especially now. When she was in that uniform. It was a rather strange yet pleasant beauty that probably had transcended the inhumanity of the warzone mangled in filth and body parts. He remembered the figure, the smile. Something he wished to see more. He didn't want her to be always in tears like she had usually been. He didn't want her on this battlefield to see it.

And he wanted to protect it.

"..."

He found his hand stopping right in its track as he was still copying the map. The sapper in front of him looked confused and quite concerned to the distant look hollowed in his eyes. The void in the eyes that began to be filled.

"Oh, sorry." He realized himself as he recomposed. He quickly finished the map and ripped the page again - hopefully the last one. "Here you g-"

Ow!

The first thing he felt was a threat. Someone was wrapping something around him! But as the initial bolt shot through, as fast as it could be expected, he realized it wasn't. That something was in fact someone's arms. Over his shoulders and around his neck they pulled into the warmth. The slight press onto his back again triggered his alertness, but again, he knew the tension placed on him. It wasn't malice. It felt good in fact. It felt like...

"Lucia?"

He was right. The confirmation came when her cheeks came dangerously close to his.

"Ok ok. I'll come to you in a second."

A second was too long though. It was enough to hand that map over to the other sapper, but during that short period of time, Lucia found the taste out of her cup of her tea, and began to spout ideas that could really spark ideas in his mind. Ideas that one could fish all day.

"What? No! I did not do such a disrespectful thing!"

And Isaac caught one.

"I did NOT!" He turned over to him, swinging around the Lucia still holding onto his shoulders. "You were there with me!"

So too did Diana.

'I don't wanna hear that from someone who hugs Jean every chances she gets.'

"Ok maybe I did..." His volume took a huge plummet. "But that was when you're already done. Now that you have my attention..."

It seemed like he wasn't going anywhere without her anytime soon.

---

It took them a short while to reach the city, but to him, as the whole commotion died down, it felt stretched. Was it because of the silence that had quickly befallen onto the group, even though he should have been engaging with Lucia after she demanded it. Or maybe perhaps of the unwelcomed sadness that began to sorrow up within him again, as he witnessed the once beautiful capital of his fellow believers, the place that should be giving divine protection to its followers in the ruin that could ironically destroy a person's life forever, in one way or another. How many had died for this? How many of the followers?

'Pay attention...'

He was about to enter this city - the one he always wanted to visit as a child. This could be the death of him if he kept thinking about it.

As he slowly approached the strong and tall wall of Amone, he noticed that Lucia was still walking next to him the whole journey. Knowing how he hadn't been fulfilling her request, he simply asked lightly.

"So what is it that you want to talk about?"
@LetMeDoStuff@FalloutJack@Landaus Five-One

Lucia beamed brightly as Michael reacted in such a frantic manner. She kept clinging onto his back and shoulders whilst being tossed around like a cape, Michael turning in different direction in order to meet the judges of her statement. Whenever he tried to conjure an answer Lucia couldn't help but chuckle to herself at his struggle to maintain innocence. Sure, Lucia was half joking and half serious, it eventually made him stammer and trip over his own words as he continued to search desperately for an explanation. The blue on his uniform blended well with the emotions of embarrassment he seemed to be encompassed by. Lucia simply continued her joking and prodding as she was flung around constantly by her rodeo. Eventually, Michael seemed to look down and admit, making Lucia let go in utter surprise. Her cheeks blemished and flustered into a bright pink, brighter than her usual dimples. At first, she was lost for words, simply turning herself red when he confirmed that he indeed had perhaps looked at her. Lucia's prank seemingly backfired onto her, though in reality she couldn't complain about him having done so. Either way, she simply stammered and fell into the mud, her backside only being saved by a small patch of concrete she landed on.

A few soldiers laughed at the two, to which Lucia slowly rose to her feet and kept a rather timid face. Her expression spoke for her, almost making it feel like she was thinking of...something...something alluring? Either way, the images in her mind were simply caught off guard as his confession to her accusation made her almost speechless, stuttering a few noises to try and get back at him playfully. Unfortunately, she was lost for a response. With the brightness of her now crimson face, she looked away from him with a sort of jittery chuckle to contemplate the response he made. There was something about the way he admitted it that seemingly forced her into some radicalised state of misunderstanding, laughing embarrassingly to herself. Eventually, she managed to compose herself for a short moment whilst he continued to react to the opposing accusations against him.

Eventually, however, the two began to follow the rest of the group, the silence continued for just a bit of time. There was still debris all around them, and the sights had now began to reflect upon Lucia. She watched in nervousness, the smiles she'd been sharing so far beginning to disappear gradually over time. Her head was constantly swivelling on its hinges with pathetic awe. So far, Lucia had been oblivious to the war since she'd set onto the train with her friends. Part of her was beginning to suffer from the same headaches she always got when viewing such disturbing imagery. Throughout the time her and Captain Middleton were to live in solace, she'd grown nearly numb to the happiness and emotive creativity she had bottled down. Looking upon this desolate city, one that bordered her home country, made her feel queasy on the inside. Lucia had flashes of images in her head once more; though slightly blurred, she began to remember the first time she saw something so barbaric done to civilisation...



A silent tear rolled down her cheek, her hand rubbing against it as if she could still feel the stinging collision of the fist and backhand against his skin. As the tear rolled down her face, she sniffled slightly before rubbing it away, remembering where she was. She couldn't shake the fact that this destroyed outskirt to a grand city had been devastated by the forces of the Federation and the Imperials together. The day she spent starving in that quiet and dark room was nearly two years ago, back when she still continued to suffer from the agony of her training. Since she had met Michael, Jean and the others, she'd become slightly more vigilant towards the virtuous truth of her situation, however she was still wildly brainwashed by the forces of indoctrination that were thrown upon her. However, her mind was shaken when Michael's voice was once again audible.

She listened with a small but timid smile, finally beginning to show her nervous side once more. For a second, she slowed down but quickly sped up to be by his side closely. For a small second, she felt as if she needed a hug, but restrained herself for once. Her eyes laid upon his as she finally answered his question. Whilst it was different from the first time Lucia wanted his attention, she definitely felt the topic on hand now was far more important than its predecessor.

"M-Michael...I...Do you feel scared? I...I mean..." She stammered, looking away for just a second before slightly leaning her weight against his. Despite the fact that Lucia knew the basics about his past, as well as other factors about him from the conversations they had together on their train journey, she still felt like there was so much more guidance to get out of him. It was a different emotion to that she felt around Middleton, one that was warming and comforting at the exact same time, fluttering her small and weakened heart with graceful intent. As the poor Asseni continued, more tears began to flow down her face again. "I...I'm frightened. Every night I go to sleep alone and have the nightmares that plague my mind. I'm...scared. There are so many new faces around us now and I feel like...I don't want to go out and fight anymore. These nights of being alone are too much to deal with. The sights of the wrecked city just...they...they just..."

---

What a bloody idiot. Sure, Gwyn, stare at the corpses and never mind the fact that you've got a job to do. You're a bloody soldier, aren't you? Can't be breaking down at the sight of a little blood. Oh, the Imps would have a field day with him. Blanching at a little blood, a sweet young lad like him? They could worm their way into your head, they could. He heard all sorts about them. Apparently if they captured an enemy soldier, they would pop out his eyes and blend it into a cream. Gwyn had never tried eyes cream, but he couldn't imagine it would taste very pleasant, and he certainly wasn't volunteering any ingredients.

In a strange way, it was comforting to think about the Imps like that. Not as people, but as monsters, every bit as demonic as the name implied. It made the field of gore he saw that littlest bit easier to stomach. It wasn't the act of savage human beings, but evil, otherworldy beasts. Monsters. A human would never be capable of that.

It also made it a little bit easier to come to terms with the fact he was going to kill one by the end of the day. With any luck, it would be from a safe range, with some nice, controlled detonations, crushing Fritz under a ton of rubble and mud, never to see the light of day again. Yes. He'd quite like that. No need to watch the light leaves his eyes, or blast away his childhood memories of eating schnitzel, or watch him pitifully mewl his last, crying out for a mother who wouldn't come or a lover he'd never see again. Just plant the bomb, press the button and boom.

Those two soldiers were getting all cosy, weren't they? He couldn't judge. You set a bunch of teenagers raging on hormones in mixed divisions into a life or death situation, you're gonna hear the phrase "you don't want to die a virgin, do you?" being bandied about a lot. There was bound to be someone willing to bite the bullet and start a battlefield romance. He just prayed to whatever god would listen that they would last.

He was getting far too pessimistic. He hadn't even seen combat yet and he was already reminiscing like an old veteran. But still... if Command could make such a fatal error with the cavalry, how did he know they weren't doing the same thing here? Who knew what kind of traps and ambushes were laid out in the tunnels? He knew he shouldn't think like this. He couldn't keep looking over his shoulder, waiting for an artillery shell or a frustrated Imp with a rifle and some daddy issues to work out. Jittering at every noise wasn't the cool-as-ice authority figure he was ostensibly trained to be. But he wasn't on the training ground any more. These weren't little wooden figures on a table, and this wasn't a friendly game of football. This was war. Everything had to go perfect, or it would be him joining the putrid slurry that so haunted his vision. He wouldn't forgive himself if one of his friends got killed trying to protect him.

Gwyn sighed and fell in close behind Michael and Lucia. He only caught the tail end of their conversation, but from what he heard, it sounded like they were just as frightened as he was. That... was a relief. At least he wasn't the only one. At least he wasn't letting them down.

Seems like 'Captain Grumpus' was gonna stick.

At least, it was funny and fitting enough that some of the wind could be taken out of Middleton's sails while his back was turned. Certainly while he was no longer here, watching and judging them, they could say whatever the hell they wanted. The only way that could possibly change was...well...Isaac didn't want to think about that. It was just a small little paranoid thought in the back of his head, like the idea that the Green Fox would be watching their every move from afar. He just might, but there was no use worrying about it, for now. Isaac shook his head with a smirk as Diana mentioned 'Grumpus' stealing Christmas.

"No, not that. Just our cheer."

But they'd be fighting for that too, in the days to come. Nothing is ever won easily, but many things are worth fighting for. Isaac mainly wanted survival to kick a few noteworthy asses, and so would plenty of the others, no doubt. Jean seemed to be fighting for the affections of all the ladies. Maybe he was just too polite to turn people down, so they stacked up, regardless of what would happen once they started to compete. Diana was obsessed with him, there was an attempt at poetry on Kalisa, and now it looked like he was flirting with Reyna.

This won't end well. Something's gonna go wrong and poor Jean will be shoved face-first into a trash can.

Ah, but what's this? A NEW challenger has approached! Looks like another Darcsen was coming in, and...yes, she was joining the ranks of the 15th! Honestly, it was kind of surprising that he wasn't getting Lucia's attention too, except that she was more focused on Michael. They were having a bit of a talk after their little joke. However, it looked like the girl really DID want a heart-to-heart. Well, Michael was certainly equipped on that front. Isaac didn't want to overhear this part. If it was half as personal as it looked on the girl's face, he didn't want to cause a more serious embarrassment here. A joke's a joke, but Isaac knew that both of them were pretty scarred by this stuff already. If they talked now, they would have something to bond over and maybe they'd feel better, afterwards.

One can only hope.

So anyway, they were adding a Private Levesque to the roster. And...that's all they would find out, right off, as she didn't communicate more. Seemed kind of a no-nonsense sort, which was alright if you just preferred to stay focused. Isaac found that Britta more-or-less weighed in on topics when she had something to say, and not just reply to any old thing. Nothing wrong with that, of course. So, while Jean was rather surprised by the new recruit, the two Gunners too the opportunity to keep watch on their surroundings.

Amone...was a dead city. It's sad to say, but it was true. The livelyhood of this important town had been crushed by war, and now it sort of hung on in limbo, waiting for the time in which it would find either salvation or destruction. Destruction in full was, of course, not very likely. Not unless the Imperials somehow thought this town did not have worth, strategically. That wasn't likely. Jean invformed Levesque that though she was welcome, she had not come at a good time. Isaac wasn't sure if there WAS a good time, but he was sure that he meant that Amone awaited them and that things would get hairy.

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He moved silently along the streets, slow in some, pace quickened in others. No weapons did he bring but his own, and supplies only what he was given to pass on. To deliver, that was his duty. Also to fight, if necessary, but only when the need arose, usually when directed because he was fast and nimble enough to avoid being shot, aware of his surroundings enough to never be caught. Only those well-hidden from him would catch him by surprise, and even then, they might never catch anything more than his fleeting shadow. His orders were clear and his training without flaw. He used every skill at his disposal here in the city, where gunsmoke made him sneeze and places around smelt of burning. All he had to do was get to the others, and then he could eat some food and rest for a bit. He would not find peace in this place, not so long as the pounding shots that hurt his ears continued, both near and far. It could not be ignored, not by him, but with saving grace he could know where they are and how to avoid such trouble. He would never truly understand what it was about, only know that he must protect those in his charge, and do what they asked him to do.

The hideaway they chose was near. An alleyway, a door, and no enemy around. They heard his desire for entry, and they soon let him inside, eager to know what information he had, or maybe some supplies from some of the others. It wasn't easy to carry them, at times. He was not as great in height or in size. He did what he could. He sat at attention, looking to the man who gave him his orders, waiting for the taller man's approval in silence. There was a nod, and then the hand descended to his head.

"Good boy, Rikes. I was hoping to hear some good news for a change."

Trudging through the thick mud reminded her of a time where the elements were once again turned against them. During the first crossing of that blasted Maren River, one that Freya still had mild memories of its sensory output, she had been stuck in a deep hole, bundled up in dugout after dugout until the orders to retreat were finally given. That was the first time Freya had actually feared for her own life, which was something she never really showed to anyone apart from her own mirrored self. The Oceanic dame was more of a solitary expression of her own true emotions, finding that revealing them could dampen her relationship with Thomas and the others who seek guidance from her own free will. The thoughts of the Maren River being crossed under triumphant Imperial minds gave her headache after headache. Freya was scared of the time when she, and her faithful loyalist tutor, had been sat with mud almost up to their necks. Whilst there was a large amount of credit due and given to those who fought under the first formation of the OEAC, no one ever brought up the disheartening truth about their overlords threatening them at gunpoint, ordering them to remain in the artillery bombarded pits of thickened mud until they either ran out of ammo or died trying to expend it all. She sat there for days, days on end, praying to her family back home that she would walk out alive and well. It was a brutal reality. Not only had their journey to the Federation's homeland been sabotaged by invading Imperial fleets, but the slaughter had brutalised the OEAC without any warning.

The Maren River was a shit-show. If progress had told her anything, talks on the trains between officers had hinted that the Federation could be arriving and assaulting the same position in 1915EC. It was a scary thought, having to go back there, but with Thomas now by her side in their brave and unfathomable friendship she'd be under no false flags of warning. These were the times where she finally felt alive and that she meant something. Whilst she hadn't been promoted at all, mainly due to her relationship with the common man and the insubordination every now and then, she was still a highly respected individual, especially as a shocktrooper. Alongside Thomas, who'd already gained the name Marathon for his gallant efforts in the Southern Frontier, they were unstoppable. The Federation and Imperials had both come to respect their unimaginable prowess.

Now, though, she felt quite queasy by looking at the world of destruction around her. No longer was she back home or in some sandy plains of the South-lands, but instead she was once again trudging along the broken pathways of the Imperial and Federation's amassed conflict. Hundreds of homes and outskirted farms had been ransacked. Many had rotting wood, showing that perhaps the first time the city saw combat it was destroyed, and yet its remnants remained here untouched and as a grim reminder of what humanity had really descended into. She would question it to Jean on the train, having seen a few destroyed places along the way in smaller numbers, however Jean couldn't find any more of an answer than she had. Speaking of the Francian, the two had a strange connection. She didn't idolise him like she did with Thomas, yet she was definitely caught in his strange journey of redemption and purpose. Freya always was intrigued by the journeys of others. People like Michael and Franz, who'd she had spied on a few times on the train, also held such a large mystery, yet she was afraid to break the ice with them. For now, all that mattered was sticking by her mentor's side, teasing Jean occasionally, hugging Lucia and convincing her to act upon Michael and the regular stuff any Oceanic Soldier should approve.

Whilst they scaled the pathways before them, she turned to Thomas, who'd been strangely quiet whilst fiddling around with the peculiar masks handed to them in their preparation phase. Freya gave him a strong beam and prodded his arm, simply looking towards him as if to ask what he was actually thinking and doing in that moment. Clearly understanding of her behaviour, the mighty Marathon looked down upon her and shook his head, before smiling and beginning the explanation she wanted to take her mind off of the war.

"D-yah think these masks are a lil' weird, Frey? I mean, I heard an officer mention they reminded him of old mining masks to help in hazardous conditions, but that ain't right for the whole surface war. Kind of has my mind in a boggle, but I can't imagine our superior overlords are exactly thinking of ways to stoop the war lower than the bar had already gone." Even for a war hero, Thomas was always trying to make sense of it too. They'd joined the war on pretty much the same day, making quick friends with one another as well as their large band of Oceanic friends they'd joined alongside. However, the naval invasion of the south, as well as the Maren river, had seen all of the friendship group that Thomas and Freya held together descend to the two remaining soldiers. None of their other friends continued to live, and thus they were almost quite untrusting towards making more comrades like such. Thomas was far too damaged by the reduction of their friendship circle, but Freya was even better at hiding it.

"I...I never really thought to question it. I mean, it looks a bit spooky, y'know. Ol' mask and all could be a scare tactic for the Imperials so why can't we do it too? Either way, I just want to get this siege over and done with." She sighed heavily, burying her hands into her head with an exhaustion of her own war effort. She'd been drained over the last three years of conflict and it was almost time for her to call quits, if the army would actually let her of course. "I heard, though, that we may be the ones to break the siege. Y'know, send in the Oceies to pick up the pieces and prop the Imperial buggers up the backside."

"Come on, Frey, you know that they ain't telling the slight bit of truth. I'll be damned if I make it out of Amone without taking some bloody bullet from some cunt-of-a-marksman. Imperials seem to like using their little spy-boys from afar on us shocktroopers."

The two chuckled. Of course, he was untrustworthy of the officers once again. According to him Thomas had never encountered a single officer of the Federation army who treated them with dignity and kindness. There were a few exceptions that Freya could think of, but that could've only been because she'd maybe set herself up for a single-night stand for the sake of kicking away boredom.

"Fuckin' hell. Look at the state of that wall. Bloody great hole in it you'd think it's Lucia's arse after a date with-"

"Don't finish that sentence, Frey." With a courteous, yet humorous, shake of his head, he sighed heavily and looked back down towards her. "Leave the poor gal alone. She ain't in need of that sort of drive you keep blabbering on about. What's even your obsession with setting others up for that?"

"I'm just saying, Thom, there comes a time where a girl or boy of her age must come to learn the beauty of getting-"

"Yeah...I regret asking."