Re: MISSION: The Rise of Dietrich and the Clash of Briggs

[Guest]

A hand burst out of the pile of bodies from the gaps, grasping at the spine of the dead Cretan soldier as it pulled unto it, bringing up a larger form underneath. Another arm reached out as it pulled out a Cretan from underneath, dirt and some coagulated blood covering him, both weren't his own. It was no ordinary Cretan, rather a Royal Guard. His camouflaged battle fatigue betrayed what he was, more specifically the red beret. A survivor in this scarred forest. Bombardment having drifted away as luck was on Oliver's side.

He didn't bother dusting off the dirt on him, only from his weapon as he checked the ammunition inside, his assault rifle, and next, his pistol. Taking the extra magazines from the corpses piled up around, he knew he was one of the few survivors around here. Alone with only his thoughts as company, Oliver surveyed the area to find that he is past the battle lines. So far he is doing fine, doing healthily and unscathed.

There was a Ceramite Armored Man, a single one, and a couple of Amestrian soldiers that took and killed the bulk of his squad, killed the Royal Guard Captain, it was the accounting of artillery and explosions scarring the forests, that the four Royal Guards were slain. That was a big deal. Oliver having survived. It shouldn't have happened. It wouldn't have happened were they not taxed by many fronts by many forces. But that man must've moved towards the Cretan lines as his area is currently deserted save for the corpses around, and Oliver... well, he is gonna kill that bastard.

"Kill the man in that pompous armor is the objective." Oliver thought to himself, "He had facial hair, the only one with it, and a scar across his eye, and wore no helmet. Should be easy to make out. Git is gonna pay for killing Captain O'Malley."

Reaching for the radio on the radioman in the Royal Guard's Squad, one of the many, his finger presses down, his mouth close to the speaker, it was on a secure frequency anyways not liable to hacking, and he consistently surveyed the surrounding as he spoke, "This is Warrant Officer Blingworthy of Fifth Royal Squad, I repeat, Warrant Officer Blingworthy of the Fifth Royal Squad, requesting status on nearby units, and assistance from any survivors, over."

[Guest]

Blood. It was the first thing that could be detected amidst the dust that still hung in the air. There was the faint sound of something thudding against the trunk of a rather large tree, a couple of other trunks sort of stacked behind it. Whoever was under there should have been crushed, but the body nearby revealed why that must have been so. There was an alchemy circle drawn beneath the bullet ridden body. A boot finally burst through, part of the trunk falling over onto a pile of Amestrian bodies. The barrel of an assault rifle immediately came into view, pointing in a way to demonstrate the checking of an area. No enemies. No allies. A red beret came into view along with the typical camouflage battle fatigue's of the Cretan military. The red was the first shock of color amongst the swirling dust, the bright blue of a woman's eyes glinting soon after. Their look was steely, yet the faintest traces of pain shone through.

Her long, dark hair had broken free of its bun, flying in the air as a ponytail instead. She cast her eyes about at the scene before her, taking in... everything. Wait, she could hear gurgling. Vivian shifted her grip on her rifle and broke out into a run, moving around the bodies and the rubble to reach her goal. Oh Thompson.... Shrapnel stabbed up into the air, blood flowing from numerous wounds as he turned at the sound of her approach. Kneeling down next to him, her features were hard to read though a warmth towards the man before her was clear in her gaze. He tried to speak but only succeeded in that gurgle, wincing in pain as he reached a hand out to her. No hesitation, she took his hand and held it gently, but firmly. "You've done well soldier." He slowly, and weakly smiled to his commander before the life left him. And that smile... God it broke her heart. Failure.... She had failed her men. She didn't move, her hand still holding his as she stared into his face for another moment. Then she took a deep breath and let go, her free hand closing his eyes with the tips of her fingers as she straightened up. The expression perfectly matched that of the nickname she had earned before she had become a member of the Royal Guard. Ice Queen. Cold, hard, and utterly unforgiving.

Those deep blue eyes practically froze the air in front of them from the iciness of her stare, the part of her that was a lady shriveling away as she took another deep breath. She could not carry the weight of the dead with her yet, that could come into focus later. Now... Now she had to take down every Amestrian bastard she saw. Her mens sacrifice would not go to waste. She would see to that. The 1st Lieutenant checked her weapons as the silence of the dead screamed within her ears. Assault rifle, check. Dual pistols, check. Knives, check. Alright, she was good to go.

*krzzzzzt* Perking up to the sound, Vivian's head immediately turned in the direction of the sound before she jumped over body and rubble alike, her boots thudding against the ground. Crouching down next to Tethras, her radioman, she could hear that someone else was alive. Growling, she pushed the body off of him and clearly could hear, "--Squad, I repeat, Warrant Officer Blingworthy of the Fifth Royal Squad, requesting status on nearby units, and assistance from any survivors, over." Oliver. Her hand picked up that radio and clicked down on it, the tattoos on her exposed hands a murmur amongst the clouds. "Copy that Warrant Officer Blingworthy. First Lieutenant Duchamp of the First Royal Squad reporting. What is your position, over." She responded, her mind just focusing upon the fact that he was alive and on the other end of that radio.

[Guest]

Nuchiha coughed into his glove, he checked his glove, no blood. He was knocked onto his back earlier due to a shockwave of sorts. The dirt was still settling as it was whipped up into the air. Nuchiha stayed low, behind a fallen tree. Nuchiha checked himself to make sure he lost no equipment. His handgun was missing, he then remembered he carried no handgun... Why does he still have a holster? Nuchiha peaked over the top of the tree to see the battle ahead of him. He looked forward to see the battle, it wasn't good. The forest was scarred, bodies littered throughout the battlefield. Artillery could be heard breaking the sound barrier and coming down at them. Machinegun nests were everywhere, it was going to be tough to break through. Nuchiha looked behind him to see if any troops were still alive. He saw two Sergeants, they were lower rank, and were obviously new from the barracks.

Nuchiha signaled them to come over to where he was, it was a better strategic position, and was cover. A single Amestrian soldier was caught in the middle of the destroyed forest, no cover or anything. As a Sergeant took a aim for the shot Nuchiha extended his arm pointing at the soldier. He rubbed his middle finger and thumb, making a snapping noise as the soldier and the surrounding area was lit on fire. His body was incinerated quite quickly however, so the pain didn't last long. As more artillery strikes came in the dirt that was kicked up put out the flames.

Then his radio began to emit chatter, from another Cretarian soldier. The chatter said; "This is Warrant Officer Blingworthy *crackling* requesting status on nearby units, and assistance from any survivors, over.", Nuchiha lowered himself now completely protected by the tree. He picked up his radio, he pressed the button to speak, "I copy Warrant Officer Blingworthy, this is Sergeant Major Revan. Where is your current location, experiencing interference. Over," Nuchiha said into the radio. He heard a second communication on the line, he sighed relief that there was more than just them. A bullet wizzed by his head as it was passing by him at supersonic speed like a normal bullet. He saw one of the Sergeants reloading, "Get down! When your reloading get down!" Nuchiha said quietly but seriously. The Sergeant's headgear was shot off his head, he was extremely lucky. "See! Use cover whenever you can!" Nuchiha then said, giving advice to the Sergeant. Nuchiha doubted he would last long, but they all needed each other it was a stalement they needed a breakthrough.

[Guest]

The fury of the Black Templar had been unleashed. With Sky safe and Reila by his side, Jet began laying on the heat. Dietrich wouldn't survive today, not if he had any choice in the matter. All of his anger was being controlled and and funneled into one singular purpose: defeating Dietrich once, and for all. Jet hit him with all he had, slashing and hacking at his opponent. Dietrich was fast, but Jet was just as fast. He couldn't help but smile at the man's expression of surprise at Jets speed, since most wouldn't think a man of his size, along with heavy armor and a giant sword, would move that fast. Not only was he fast, he was skilled. A life of training and battle ensured that. Die was skilled as well though, fighting with speed and grace, all the while still mocking him with that smirk and cocky attitude of his. Normally it would have irritated Jet, but instead it just focused his anger that much more. The "King" of Creta may not be directly responsible for the death of his parents or his sister, or the fall of his family, but he lead the uprising that was part of it.

"You represent the people who betrayed my family, and that makes you worse than those that did. You're stubborn, arrogant, smug, and big-headed. You thought you were in the right to invade a nation with no evidence to support your claim? I was raised in Creta and we have always been angry with Amestris for their power and individual ideas. Now you've used this anger to fuel your campaign against a nation with no quarrel with you! You are no better than a murderer and a coward! You will die today 'Lord' Dietrich, whether by my blade or anothers, you will die!," Jet shouted in his native tongue as he fought, the two swords singing death through the air, the clash of metal ringing through the two men's arms with every strike and block.

Reila and Jet fought side by side against this monster, an unrelenting onslaught of attacks. Neither would let up, pushing their limits to defeat the Prime Minister and leader of Creta. Just as suddenly as Jet had arrived to help Reila though, the Scarlet Ice of Briggs left their fight. Explosions rocked the ground beneath his feet as two men Jet vaguely recognized as men from Fort Briggs approached their sword battle, the two alchemists hitting each other with all they had. The Lt. General obviously had a legitimately close relationship with the two men, as she began to fall to pieces in front of everyone. The four combatants all seemed to stop in their tracks to hear what the woman had to say, and for good reasons. Reila let her heart burst from her chest and fall in the form of tears from her eyes, her words more powerful than anything Jet had ever heard. Being a hopeless romantic, he couldn't help but tear up slightly, her words gripping his heart with passion and love. She truly loved him, he could feel it. Her tears, the way she cried, her actions, they reminded her of Saga again. They had to be sisters, he was sure of it.

[Guest]

“I am a Tyrant.”

It was times like this when he wished he carried a recording device. Ducking her blade, he remembered that, if he did, then that’d leave evidence of some of the more… shady business he had to delve into. As she continued to tell far too much about herself, he had gotten just a bit too close, narrowly avoiding a particularly nasty attack. Countering with his own, it seemed his blade got her in the thigh. A shame. He rather enjoyed toying around with her.

”Now, see, I’m worried about you now,” he says, giving her a short moment to recover. ”I’d presume you Amestrians view me as nothing but a sociopath, but I really take no pleasure in killing anyone. I regret having to send these men in to fight at all. They were good soldiers, and I could’ve used them later on.” Cocking an eyebrow at her pointing a blade at his neck, he bats it away playfully. ”Now, if your Furher had attacked us, I wouldn’t have had to do any of this, now would I? This war, what you see all around you, this is but a necessary evil. Freedom and peace aren’t gained, they’re earned. Your Furher would be as likely to give up Amestris as you would your installation, dear general – by which I’d assume ‘not without a fight’ or ‘over my dead body’ would be the answer to. Though, unlike Furher Hild, I’d take no pleasure in running you through personally. You are but a child, only knowing part of the larger picture, making gestalts from what little you know. Originally innocent, but you’ve made yourself into quite the obstruction, haven’t you? Perhaps, if we both live through this, we could discuss this further?”

In his peripheral, he saw a man running towards him. Not that it was his only clue to another unarmed opponent attacking him. The sounds of his footsteps could be heard even under that pompous general’s speech. Though General Black was obviously doing one of those long-winded power-up attack that seemed to be inspired by a children’s show, only one was a better target. With a quick step and pivot, he avoided the unarmed man’s punch, and was bringing his sword down upon him, to handle such a nusance appropriately. He reacted with mild shock to see that Jet had blocked his strike, sparks flying from the clash of metal, and barely dodged as Reila made an attack of opportunity.

Backing up a few steps he grinned. Now this… this was a fight. ”Can the two of us simply not duel, General Black?” he asks, parrying and dodging their combined attacks. ”Or do you feel compelled to further sully your name with underhanded tactics?” Grinning in amusement, he continues to poke and prod at their defenses, reveling in the give-and-take of the battle.

”I assure you, your hatred is misplaced, general, though perhaps you feel the need to make me a scapegoat, much like Amestris is to my people.” Another pair of strikes come in towards him, deflecting one with the blade in his left hand, and cringing as the other sword scrapes across the armored plates on his right arm. Leaping back, he quickly appraises the damage, noting to have his armor repaired as the two come charging at him again.

Or at least, they were about to. Reila shifted her attention elsewhere, and Jet seemed to respond accordingly. Dietrich sighed, looking over his sword as Reila and Dai babbled on about their personal issues. Such impoliteness, interrupting a duel to the death so very often. Amestris obviously had no manners, and they seemed far too self-absorbed to care about the men that continued to die around them. Were he a lesser man, like General Black he supposed, he would’ve taken the opportunity to strike. But he was better than them.

Looking over at the gunshot, he motions for his reinforcements to stand down. They were needed to keep peace, not cause death and destruction. He grinned at Dai’s speech, admiring his enthusiasm and seriousness of the matter, but mostly amused at the simple conclusions he had come to. He couldn’t help but grimace as the reports of lost supplies flooded his screens, but his subordinates were handling the matter.

”Rousing words Mr. Ito, but I’m afraid that you seem to have taken me for a fool. A person blackmailed makes a cooperative tool, not a loyal subject. Though, I will thank you for offering to spare me, but I’m afraid General Black here has made a proxy out of me, and would be more than willing to kill the one man on this battlefield who knows what’s actually going on. So let me begin by explaining some things about myself.” Dodging Dai’s charge and Jet’s advance, he floursishes, switching the sword from his left hand to his right. ”I am not left handed,” he grins, pressing the attack on the two. ”I do not believe in ‘no win’ situations, Mr. Ito, a concept that your simple conclusion doesn’t take into account. I don’t believe I am immortal or invincible, nor do I want to be. My forces? Partially stopped from advance – and only for a short while, I’m afraid – though I presume you could call them just as crippled as your own forces, as I have single-handedly tied up a good portion of their alchemical forces.” He chuckles. ”As much as I’d love to say this day has unfolded exactly to my plans, I’m afraid that’s too prideful for me to say, especially since Briggs has brought so much of it to the battlefield. But you? You have helped bring Miss Tsukino to tears, and though you’ve certainly given a blow to my forces, it is far from fatal. What I have brought is but a fraction of what I have access to.”

He turns his attention back to Jet. ”And you? You wish to kill me, and if it comes to that, then so be it. But do you know what that would bring? Do you know who would replace me? Another man, who will be fueled by the fear and hatred of the people of Amestris, the feeling of vengeance, not his own drive. He will not show mercy. I’ll admit that the war will end, but not soon. Would someone else have been as generous as to spare your Major’s life, General? Or what of that woman you fancy?”

Dietrich continues his assault on the two, taking actual swipes at them without overextending himself. ”The larger question, though, is how will today end? Will Amestris become part of Creta, and given its right to be represented equally and fairly? Or will my selfish cause fail, leaving your military dictatorship standing? I’d ask which shade of gray suits your preference, but I believe both of you have made your stances pretty clear.”

[Guest]

"*Kzzzttttt* Copy that Warrant Officer Blingworthy. First Lieutenant Duchamp of the First Royal Squad reporting. *Sssshhhhhhhh* What is your position, over."

"*Ksssshhhtttttt* I copy Warrant Officer Blingworthy, this is Sergeant Major Revan. *Ksssshtttt* Where is your current location, experiencing interference. Over."

...Well that was certainly quick and surprising. Much very anti-climatic, so much for the stereotype that if he was the only one alive, everyone else would be dead. Supposedly that's not the case. Oliver would look around at the scarred land, seeing bombardments from the distance and all, nothing too close.

It was refreshing to see there was Duchamp. Seems like she wasn't all talk after all and was indeed worthy of the Royal Guards to have survived. A new found respect for her came as he would remember to remark on her ability to survive whereas others died.

He did glance at the landmark from a distance, or what remains of it. It was the direction the armored man went off to. He can tell, as he caught a glance earlier of the direction the man went off to before playing dead. The name of the landmark... the name... the name...

Faustin landmark happens to be tall, it was like a tower, the only structure standing taller than a couple of feet but does have signs of ruin inside it, near the Cretan side yet resides in Amestrian zone of control.

"I'll be at the Faustin landmark. I am currently about... a click or two from it. I repeat, the Faustin landmark. That will be the destination. Meet me en route there, over." Oliver said, placing the radio on his belt, having remembered the landmark name that he glanced on the map earlier.

It was a tower of sorts, just a large square block that reached high now chipped and ruined, but able to be seen.

And so departs Oliver, sneaking around as he would steer clear from friendlies, at least significant amounts, there would definitely be artillery bombardments there from the Amestrians, hence highly likely for casualties. Steering clear from hostiles alike as well.

Though he was finally at the front of the Faustin landmark after walking that he would see the one Armored Man that killed his squad, save for the fact he was missing his own squad... those Amestrians earlier that had dispatched his Captain. It was not a landmark standing high above, and it was easy to call for extractions from there for the while, a quick one, though time would render the place a hotzone if he wastes too much time here.

He had an advantage, the man was without a helmet. His back was turned and he was unaware. After all, Oliver was behind enemy lines, and likely the rest were. He made sure to crouch behind cover, placing the barrel of his gun at the downed tree's trunk as to steady his aiming. His target was a distance, and his aim best strike true. His prey was to fall or else Oliver were he detected, would fall before this man impervious before bullets.

There was a tension brewing, raising his arm for the ironsight to meet the head of the Western Armored Man, the bastard who killed the Captain... Oliver pulls the trigger.

BANG

It was nothing over the top. The large framed figure fell, no screams of pain, no dramatic poses, only a twitch as he gasped out his last breath of life. A bullet had penetrated the back of his skull angled as to exit his left eye socket. He was limp, dead.

"Vengeance has been paid..." Oliver sighed under his breath, reaching for his radio in the same frequency he had used to communicate with the two others, "This is Warrant Officer Blingworthy... Leftenant Duchamp... or Sergeant Major Raven, call in for extraction at the Faustin landmark. Command would want to see this... over."

But much to Oliver's chagrin, a few Amestrian troops poured out of the landmark to inspect the dead armored man, Oliver leaned down, taking cover as he was out of sight. For now best await the arrival of the two before taking on these three squads swiftly.

It would be up to the two to dispatch them for now, specifically he has placed bets on Duchamp to take on the bulk of them.

[Guest]

*kzzzzzztt* --Sergeant Major Revan. *Ksssshtttt* Where is *kssssssssshhhhhhht* location, experiencing interfer*ksshhhhhht* Over." Came the unexpected response, not caring that she didn't immediately recognize the voice. The more that were alive and responded, the better. The Amestrians may have razed their men, but they had to work at it to do so. Raising her gaze, she took a listen and glanced about to ensure that she was truly alone, her eyes lingering on the bodies of her squad members. Nothing. There was nary a soul about and it was.... disconcerting. Either the battle had truly moved much further on from her position, or else they were nearby and hiding. Had she been out for long?

Her brows furrowed at the possibility, but she wasn't allowed much time for though as Oliver responded once more. Faustin... Once more she turned her gaze upwards, focusing upon the ruined tower in the distance. If he was a click away... he'd certainly be there before her. She was at least a mile or so from the Faustin landmark if not a mile and a half. And that wasn't even counting the enemy resistance that she could run into. Taking a moment to glance about again, Vivian clicked down on the radio, "Copy that. ETA is seven minutes." She had no time to waste.

A hand briefly touched Tethras' chest before she pushed herself up and took off towards that tower. For now she shifted her rifle so it would be out of the way, one hand resting upon her pistols holster as the other swung through the air to propel her forward. She wove amongst the trees, only slowing up as she encountered pockets of soldiers to ensure she successfully snuck past them. As much as she wanted to shoot down those goddamned Amestrian's, she couldn't afford to be stupid about it. There was a time for revenge, and then there wasn't. Besides, the Cretan soldiers were holding their own despite the artillery. There were going to be a lot of casualties this day, and that was just a fact. It wasn't cruel, it wasn't pessimistic, it was the realistic fact. This was war, and war never changes.

Sweat beaded her brow as she slid behind a tree, crouching down to lessen her chance of being seen. Thankfully with so much rubble, there was plenty of cover. Peeking past to the two Amestrian soldiers, their backs were to her, and they didn't seem to have heard her approach. Good. Alright... Pulling out her pistols, she carefully stood up very slowly, listening to their conversation. Bastards. Stepping from her cover, she fired off two rounds, one from each gun. And with each bang, a thud accompanied it, the bodies crumpling to the ground. She ducked back into her cover and waited, listening for any others that may have been nearby. ........ Nothing. Pushing herself up, she walked over to their corpses and shot another round into each of their heads to ensure that they were gone. Upon confirmation, she felt as if a weightlessness was forming in her stomach, satisfaction in the forefront of her mind. The smallest of smirks cracked that icy exterior before it melded back, her feet pushing off the ground in a run once more.

And soon enough, there it was. The Faustin landmark. As she was about twenty feet from it, she heard a resounding bang! that echoed in the air, gritting her teeth as she ducked behind the nearest cover. The large bush and it's tree hid her from sight as her heart pounded in her chest from the exertion to get there as well as adrenaline. Sliding her pistols back into their holsters, she leaned out enough to look, observing as the Amestrian troops examined a body on the ground. Ah.... so that was what the bang was from. She guessed that it was from Oliver, but the speculation could wait until later. Now.... Now it was time to take them down.

Drawing out her knives from their pouch, she was mindful of how they could glint in the light, remaining crouched in the shadows. Deep breath, and aim..... Then exhale slowly. And with that breath out, she threw two of those daggers out into the two men that moved towards the treeline. They clutched at their chest and fell, but she was already darting through the shade of the tree to a different position, a pistol now in one hand with a couple of daggers in another. Now the others were on edge, one barking orders as the others reacted with the training that they had received. Exhale slowly..... Off went those two daggers, one thunking into the skull of one of the men. The second missed by centimeters, the soldier firing his rifle in her direction. Ok. The bullets thudded into the trunk of the tree she hid behind, waiting for the right moment to.....

Leaning out, she fired three rounds at the man, her blue eyes burning with focus and a fury for the people that had killed her squad. She didn't wait to confirm that he had been hit, already behind her cover as more bullets thudded into the wood effectively splintering it. She couldn't really wait for she knew he was going to approach her position and so she took a risk, diving out of cover as she aimed a few more rounds at the soldier. He groaned as he was hit and went down, one of his rounds hitting the ground near where her feet had been. She rolled and pushed herself back up, holstering her pistol for now.

But Vivian was already running, dodging the rounds that were fired at her by that last Amestrian bastard. He was to her right, watching him from the corner of her eye as she just bolted through the trees, jumping over the occasional root. If she slowed down or stopped, she risked getting hit and so she could remain the distraction. Hell, they might think that she was the one who fired that first shot that killed the man in armor. If that was the case, all the better because then they wouldn't realize that there were other Cretans there. Just keep running.

[Guest]

"I'll be at the Faustin landmark. I am currently about... a click or two from it. I repeat, the Faustin landmark. That will be the destination. Meet me en route there, over." the chatter then said, Nuchiha pressed a button to speak. "On my way, over and out." Nuchiha said, as he put the radio onto his belt. "Stay here, hold your ground if possible." Nuchiha said to the Sergeants, "Sir, I am a good shot I can cover you from afar." the Sergeant said, as he showed off his scope. "Fine, I am also possibly the last radio operator, a EVAC may be called in if this battle becomes hopeless." Nuchiha said, he could see the landmark in sight it wasn't far at all. Nuchiha advanced forward, as he ducked behind a still standing tree. He saw that the one with the scope was actively covering him from any enemies, this made his job easier. Nuchiha advanced forward some more, strangely there wasn't any enemies, and sadly no friendlies.

Maybe it was the artillery, Nuchiha's specific area was heavily bombarded, recently he encountered only one soldier that he killed. And two friendlies, maybe it was a sign that twice as much Cretarians poured into the area than Amestrians? Or the Amestrian army was so large now, that they resorted to insufficient training? That wasn't his mission to know, he had to push forward he was ordered by a superior to meet at the Faustin Landmark. The artillery was still beating down heavily, machine guns were firing... This made a lot of humidity, this was Nuchiha's battleground now. The humidity would contribute heavily to his fire alchemy. Dietrich never approved of using Alchemy on the battlefield, but war isn't going to change for one person. Nuchiha looked ahead, it was... It was littered with bodies, by their colors he could tell a lot of them were Cretarian... Was it a human wave? Or was their cover destroyed by the artillery? Nuchiha needed to approach the commanding officer, he might have acted emotionless, but he still had them.

As Nuchiha approached the Faustin Landmark, he forgot one thing... As he walked back, he needed to dispatch the gun nests, as he approached them... They were gone? "What the..." Nuchiha mumbled to himself, there was no soldiers... Did they run into the forest? Just as fast as he wondered, he was ambushed as they caught him earlier. 5 soldiers open fired at him from the forest, Nuchiha dived behind the sandbags of the gun nest. He hit his shoulder on a empty ammunition box, he reached to move the box but felt something else. It was a rifle, with no ammunition... Nuchiha jumped up as he set a entire section of the forest on fire, it killed the soldiers... But now it was damaging the already injured environment. Luckily it was a isolated section, so the rest of the forest wouldn't be damaged, but any flying animals nearby would suffocate unfortunately.

Nuchiha eyed Oliver killing the armored man, as Oliver communicated with his radio it would reveal him. "Vengeance isn't anything to be afraid of comrade, it's when it consumes you." Nuchiha said. Amestrian troops poured out of the building, as Nuchiha leaned back against a wall already hidden from their sights. They ran to the treeline, fools there must've been more Cretarians already hiding in there. Just that happened, they were attacked by some unknown figure. The troops kept moving forward, "Better help her." Nuchiha said. He reached into a pouch, taking his time. It had 3 cartridges, and was filled with glass... Why? Nuchiha took the bullets off the cartridges, pouring any lead or gunpowder into the pouch. As all 3 cartridges were emptied, he tied it. He reached for his radio, "This is Sergeant Major Revan, requesting imemdiate EVAC, at the Faustin Landmark. Area cleared of anything that is potentially AA, may want to rush though." Nuchiha said, as he put the radio on his belt. He threw the pouch a inch into the air catching it, like he had all the time in the world. He then quickly threw it with all might, as it was about to hit the ground, he rubbed his fingers as a SNAP! noise was made. It was set on fire, exploding and propelling the glass forward severely injuring the Amesrtian soldiers.

As most of them fell, down, there was 2 that were either barely injured or not injured at all. They turned around, to see their comrades with wounds from improvised shrapnel. The pain must've been excruciating, Nuchiha rubbed his fingers again, instantly setting the entire area on fire. He took care not to affect the forest however, unlike earlier. The Amestrians were incinerated, their heavy machineguns were their downfall, it created extreme humidity. "Don't you love this humidity? Amazing isn't it?" Nuchiha said, referencing to how it helped his Flame Alchemy to a extreme degree.

[Spade Aeries]

Apos was on drugs. Spade was highly convinced the moment a hand battered down upon his shoulder. What the fuck? He blinked and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. This was serious shit, man. Apos was calling him by his actual name! History? Hardly. This was...a MIRACLE!! So he had known his name all along! Spade wanted to jump for joy and celebrate by buying everyone a beer, but he doubted the men shooting at them wanted to partake in a bottle of Sam. Bummer. He sighed and continued to stare blankly at the blond man as he went about his mindless rambling. What was he mumbling about anyway? Spade strained deaf ears to hear more pieces of it, and was shocked. "You can be a complete ... sometimes. Drunk, lady..., everything ... that one would see as being fun and ... You're also a strong Commander. That's why... I've always wanted to be just like you." ...wut. The day Spade turned serious...was the day Apos didn't call him a digging device.

"...Really? Always since when? Oh." Out of shock he answered his own damn question. "Right... but you fail at being me. You flirt with the enemy, you leave behind your comrades, you putz around instead of playing cards... Be you man; you're Apos: the complete idiot. But you're also an irreplaceable friend. But what the fuck. This is war you dipshit! You can't be compromising shit. Get your act together and do something other than fail at getting laid by the enemy! And who the fuck is giving up? I don't know where you got that idea from, but is sure as hell ain't me. Go dig someone else's grave because I'm too damn busy burying Cretan ass. Now move yours!!"

A gunshot was supposed to ring out from the others, but it didn't. A mix of the same war garble melded together into a spurt of blood that spouted from Spade's right shoulder. He hated getting fucking shot. Fiery burns ricochetted throughout every nerve and he was thrown back a few feet where he lay with his spin digging painfully into the damp grass. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, numbing everything except the shock prevailing in his mind. Spade's vision dimmed to mere shadows of things. Blurs of colors and darkness filled his mind and plummeted him into confusion that could only be described as pain. He sucked in hitching breaths and wondered if maybe something vital was hit this time...

[Guest]

"...Really? Always since when? Oh. Right... but you fail at being me. You flirt with the enemy, you leave behind your comrades, you putz around instead of playing cards... Be you man; you're Apos: the complete idiot. But you're also an irreplaceable friend. But what the fuck. This is war you dipshit! You can't be compromising shit. Get your act together and do something other than fail at getting laid by the enemy! And who the fuck is giving up? I don't know where you got that idea from, but is sure as hell ain't me. Go dig someone else's grave because I'm too damn busy burying Cretan ass. Now move yours!!" Heh. That was what he was looking for.

"There's the Shovel I know." A small grin lined Apos' face, and he turned away from his friend, suddenly hearing a few shots. Gunshots. Fuck. He tried to dive out of the way, reaching out to grab Spade, but... Too late. One of the bullets hit the man's shoulder, and Apos' eyes narrowed. Damnit. He jumped up and dived for his friend, managing to dive under his falling body and catch him, if only just in time. They slid several feet along the ground, Apos gritting his teeth from the pain.

"Keh. Damnitall." He spoke those words between rasped breathing, going onto one knee to pick the man up.

"Gotta love being shot, eh?" He grunted, slowly getting up onto one knee. The man stood up, cradling Spade in his arms - he was easily strong enough to hold this man. With a toothy grin, he started to walk, through bullets being fired, taking Spade to the medical tent. He carried the man to the tent, laying him down on the bed that lay inside the tent, a couple of nurses walking over to him in order to dress Spade's wounds. He knelt down by the man with his head lowered, and smiled softly.

"So what if I can't be like you? I'm gonna try. Be the best of me, and the best of you. Which is why... when we get back to Central and I know you've healed up, I'm leavin'. Goin' on a pilgrimage, of sorts." The man chuckled soberly, and stood up, pulling a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, slipping a single fag from the box and placing it in his mouth, MUCH to the disdain of the nurses, who started to try and shoo him off. "It's okay, I won't light up until I leave. Anyway. Spade. I know a damn lot about Alchemy, but I can't seem to grasp Alkahestry, or The Grand Arcanum. I know the theory of it, but I can't grasp the actual idea of it. So I'm going off on a journey. Dunno how long I'll be gone for. Dunno if I'll come back the same man. But I wanna learn." He took the cigarette out of his ear, looking over at the pained man. He wasn't even sure if Spade had heard half of what he had said, but he was completely serious (S'why he said Spade). He chuckled lightly. "And so I'm gonna. Trust me, Spade," The man turned away from the brown-haired womanizer and nodded, "I ain't gonna let you down... (whispered)Not again." He smiled softly, and placed the cigarette in his lips again, walking out of the tent and pulling a lighter out of his pocket. He brought the lighter up to his mouth, clicked it and lit the cig, breathing in and sending out a plume of smoke.

"Ain't nobody I call my enemy. S'why I can happily flirt with them Aerugo broads." The man picked up an M14 Assault Rifle off the ground and smirked, checking it to make sure it was loaded.

"Go dig someone else's grave because I'm too damn busy burying Cretan ass." He reached up to his mouth and took out the cigarette.

"But you shoot Spade, then you deal with me." He dived down behind cover and began to fire, taking potshots from where he was, knocking down Cretan Militants as he went.

[Guest]

Oliver glanced at Nuchina, he hadn't recognized the man, but the fact he spoke Cretan and hadn't taken an opportunity to slay him was a testament to the fact that he is a friendly. Though Blingworthy hadn't replied back to Revan, only giving him a nod in lieu to the revenge statement.

Though there was gun fire, none were making any impact on the area around Oliver as he stayed in cover until a gap sounded off, basically a period where there was no firing. That the Royal Guardsman peered out and aimed his weapon, firing three more shots, each timed and well aimed as he dispatched three Amestrians.

It would've helped this other mysterious ally.

Taking his time as he dispatched a fourth Amestrian in the radio commands the Sergeant Major gave to Command. Firing a fifth final shot from his assault rifle as he ducked into cover, Amestrians were troubled by the fact that there were many angles to cover.

Oliver at this point wasn't gonna peek out to take a shot, those five shots would've given away the position at this point thanks to the muzzle flash, but it wasn't a problem due to the problem of the prior they suffer over many fronts.

Being flanked and all was disadvantageous to the soldiers as the Cretans used forestry to their advantage. That Oliver glanced at the radioman, the one whom he guessed to be the Sergeant Major, snap his fingers. Apparently exploding something, he was too busy in cover to see, but cursed under his breath at the explosion. The lighting of it and the pressure to boot.

Well, that definitely would attract more attention to this sector which shouldn't be scarred by artillery. But he has done his job, and done it damn well enough. All it is to be done is just to get out of here quickly enough before any proper response is underway.

With the Amestrians annihilated completely thanks to the flame alchemy, Oliver peeked out to see that there was fire, thankfully the power armor was unscathed. Glancing at Nuchina, giving him an approving nod before leaping over the log, making his way towards the power armor as he strapped the assault rifle to his back.

The helicopter, and a good one at that, had landed at a point which wasn't covered in fire. It was made to carry heavy cargo, Oliver guessed it was a good thing that this helicopter came along. And it came along quite fast as well. Good, this was a high priority delivery and extraction.

Oliver lifted the power armor wearing Amestrian from his shoulders, oddly the bolter gun seemingly was not falling off of the corpse's grip, which made things more convenient, "Give me a hand at this, Sergeant Major."

That said, the Royal Guardsman carried (or dragged if without Revan's assistance in lifting) the power armor over to the helicopter, climbing on board into the passenger compartment as he would pull the power armor along. He killed him, and revenge was paid in due. Placing him in front of the passenger seats to keep an eye on the bastard, and contemplate upon what happened back there. Letting the corpse in power armor with the bolter gun go.

He didn't have to say anything to Duchamp, he couldn't say anything now, and neither to this fortunate newcomer. There is much to say back home, but not now, not in the battlefield. Confident that the two would board the helicopter before it departed.

(Vivian and Nuchina are able to climb on board the helicopter at any time, or decline to in their posts, it is up to them, before it departs, or merely let it leave.)

The helicopter afterwards would fly away towards the Cretan side and into safer hands, as the Calish lit up a thin cigar, smoking it. Coughing as a result as he is not a smoker, but couldn't help it, it was his Captain's habit. A memorabilia he wouldn't partake into the addiction, but as nothing more than a nod that it has been an honor to serve the squad leader.

Staring grimly at the face of the killer of his friends. Seated to the side of this scum whom was in front of the Calish. Exhaling a noxious fume at the face of the Amestrian, coughing once more before flicking the cigar out before closing the passenger compartment door.

His monarch, Lord Dietrich, would be pleased with what Oliver had extracted. That perhaps the death of his comrades wasn't all in vain. That it had given Blingworthy a new resolve to continue unto his struggles.

[EXIT THREAD]

[Guest]

Nuchiha was requested assistance by his superior Oliver, he went over to the Amestrian. He eyed the armor, what kind was it? It was armor definitely, but it had a power source. He walked to the other side of the Amestrian, he grabbed one of his arms and put it over his shoulder. He then extended his arm to the man's lower chest to distribute the weight over his body to lessen stress. The helicopter landed, thankfully not in a area that was set on fire by him earlier. Nuchiha and Oliver carried the body into the helicopter, as he and Oliver dropped the body in continuous succession, Nuchiha looked back onto the battlefield. He decided to stay aboard the helicopter to protect it from any threats. It was obvious the body was important. "So, I saw something interesting... Who led those troops straight into machinegun fire?" Nuchiha asked, he wondered who would do such. Lead perfectly fine troops, straight into machine gun fire. Or was it accidental? Or was it a human wave? Nuchiha wanted answers to this. "Nevermind," Nuchiha said, deciding to ask Dietrich himself later.

He wondered where Dietrich was, he then looked out the side. They were heading back towards Creta, nothing can be gauranteed though. The trees were now going over the landscape into mountains, it wasn't burned down or scarred like the battlefield. This was good, it wasn't nice to see scarred landscapes constantly. He remembered, maybe he could go to Aerugo, or Xing and learn martial arts, so he could defend himself without alchemy... Who knew his plans could easily change over time. He looked at the body, what was so important out it? Maybe it would be better if he never knew, and that it was a secret operation.

[Exit thread]

[Theo Chulainn]

As a child Acra would watch many soap drama's with his mother. The times the two would curl up together in front of the television watching the many different soul sucking shows Acra has lost count. His mother had a liking for medical drama's. Sometimes in the present day Acra wondered if the shows had brainwashed his brother to become the doctor he was today. But the shows consisted of a stupid amount of drama, barely dressed women and sexy doctors who saved the day. Now he knew these shows were full of a lot of bullshit. His brother was living proof the doctors where not sexy. The last nurse he saw had a ugly mole that he swore kept moving around her face.

But the one thing he found consistent was as he was wheeled down the corridor and the lights whizzed above his deluded barely focused eyes like how they showed on the trolleys. But his head filled in the stupid intro music that seemed the same in each show.

His side ached dully. From what he could hear the field surgeons had removed the bullet and repaired the damaged and was sending him out of central to a hospital for his hands. The strip of lights disappeared and the outside air hit him and the annoying sound of a helicopter filled his senses making him groaned under the mask that fed him oxygen. A fuzzy voice mentioned a safe zone and some other medical mumbo jumbo but unfortunately his brother wasn't there to translate. He sighed feeling sleepy once more as they transferred him into the air ambulance. Letting his eyes drop he taught for a brief moment. 'I bet Shula will be mad....' With that he drifted off as the blades span faster and for the brief moment he really couldn't give a fuck about what was happening and slept.

[EXIT THREAD]

[Guest]

And there was the cavalry. Vivian could hear the radioman giving his orders, curving around as she drew a combat knife just to be safe. The loud snap made her slow, glancing back to see just what was going on. Oh. Excellent, the man was down. That didn't mean she could relax just yet. She was now on the opposite side of the landmark, her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene, listening for a sign of enemy reinforcements. ..... Quiet. That was good. But that bang was sure to attract attention besides their gunfire, sweat causing her bangs to cling to her creamy skin as she ducked into cover.

Now where had that alchemist gone.... Ah, over there. Oliver must be over there as well. Though she didn't have to wait long, as she saw her fellow Royal Guardsmen take off towards the helicopter that had come down to extract them. Narrowing her eyes, she sheathed her knife and gripped her assault rifle instead, checking the points for other allies as she dodged back out of cover towards their vehicle. She offered a rear-guard for them, her eyes keen for sign of others. The men were doing something as she neared them, taking a quick look to see just what exactly. Spoils in essence, very good. Gunfire echoed in the distance and her eyes narrowed, raising her rifle to look down it's length.

Three bullets shot out as an Amestrian stepped from the trees, the body snapping in a direction before it fell to the ground. Glancing back to the two men, they had the body and armor on board, taking a brief moment to check the area one more time before she swung up and onboard. Her rifle clicked back into it's place on her back, her breathing surprisingly even given how much running she had done. Gripping one of the rails, she allowed her legs to bend and relax if only slightly for the muscles were beginning to gnaw at her with pain. No. Rest would come later.

NO. She could feel the weight and responsibility for her fallen men begin to arise within her, the aura she gave off still rather... cold. Later.... She had to mourn later. Now, she had to remain strong and impassive. She still had to contain the capability to lead and not collapse just yet. Especially if her lord wished to speak with them afterwards about the battle. No... it had to wait. She could hold out. Her lips tightened with her resolve as she pushed down those emotions for the moment, the wind whipping her ponytail about as the helicopter flew through the air and back towards home.

[EXIT THREAD]

[Murazar Dauthi]

Spoiler:

Ok, now this wasn’t quite fair. Then again nothing ever was, it turned out he also had called in some of the other soldiers back where the artillery was and were firing for effect on his position as his fading vision saw Dai create a rather large and irritating obstacle. He ditched the radio behind him as explosions occurred near him. A shell exploded almost next to him the impact just being near him sent him flying over to his left flank.

His ears were ringing and his sight was fading further away like the tide when it got lower and you were reaching for any kind of water while being stuck in the sand. He felt like a blind man reaching for anything to steady him already. He felt for the first time in his life, Scared… He thought he would fail; he would never reach Reila in time. He sprinted towards the large gap, one that might kill him just from the fall. He jumped and caused and explosion to fling him further than normal before falling down a handful of meters and crashing onto the side of the surface.

He groaned in pain as he felt the false and real adrenaline fade from his body. He ached and pained. He climbed; every motion felt like his body was tearing itself a part. The rock surface was sharper than he thought it was. He slowly reached the top and pulled himself over before pulling himself to his feet. He had one eye close while the other half –way open. The light from his eyes had turned an almost white color, almost the color of his hair.

His burnt arm was cut up so bad and so soft that the muscle sinew could be seen. Murazar’s chest and other arm seemed to look like a red hot cheese grater was used on him. He could hear his heart pumping blood as quick as it could. He was bleeding all over, and it looked mostly from his own reckless attacks combined with the Cretan army and Amestrian Artillery strike.

He caught the tail-end of the long dramatic part where Reila, the Reila he took care of! Spoke those words, all the way until she asked for his help. He took a moment to listen to Dai, not out of any kindness or giving him a second chance in his heart. He just couldn’t move for some reason. He looked down briefly, his vision blurry and going out of sync randomly. He wasn’t barred at all; he was just reaching past his bodily limit. He had put his body through too much pain, wounds, medical, physical, and mental stress too fast.

He forced himself to move and speak through will power, purely through his will. He. Refused. To. Give. In!

Spoiler:

Almost just instantly after Dai’s compelling speech he spoke, it was soft like a footfall that did not want to be heard in a forest, hard as steel being tempered in a factory to support only the strongest of structures, and as warm and passionate as the sun in space. No one had ever heard this voice before; passion was just one of the few things Murazar Dauthi held. You could see fragments of it, or a small degree of it. But the whole thing? Never, until now.

He looked to Reila almost ashamed of how he was at the moment.” Your not the only one who loves her Daigoro.” He pause taking a breath in and he almost seemed hesitant as if it was a secret long buried and one that had to be unearthed. ” Rei-chan, I love you with all of my heart.” He smiled a soft and almost legendary-type of smile. Something that seemed so genuine it had to be real and not a fake.

He spoke again he seemed to be having problems breathing, he mentally checked himself. It was the ash and smoke it was closing his airway up and the tears going to his eyes didn’t help much. ” You wondered why a mercenary did so much for a country, a fort, a leader I shouldn’t have believed in. A mercenary that’s only visible motivation was currency. “

He paused momentarily once more,” I love you and I can’t throw it away or push it away like everything else. I can’t try and keep you away like I try to do to everyone else. Everyone around me dies and I can never protect them, but if anything. Today I will not fail in that, I cannot fail.” The screaming stopped in his head. It amazed him, he would always remember it. Did it stop because of what he said and felt or was it…

Spoiler:

Then it redoubled greater than ever before, he felt the source from Daigoro. He shut it off and the screams returned to normal. He didn’t notice it before during the battle they had, maybe it’s... No. It cannot be a Philosophers stone. He had to stay away from it if at all possible. He looked over to everyone on the current playing field. He was by far the most injured and tired. Xan of course off to the side was impossible to kill in a short battle like this with so many allies surrounding him.

Murazar put his bloody hands’ fingers’ together and readied them. It would take little effort to snap them and create explosions; it would take a toll on what little energy he had left. He extended a midnight colored area around him. He gritted his teeth, the toll everything he took for granted he felt now. He had little left, but just enough to do something dangerous and very reckless. He glared down Dietrich and Daigoro, he spoke briefly out loud, his tone ragged and sharp as shattered glass pieces whilst being as frozen as frostbite.

” This all got just a little too complicated for a simple Miner like myself. Can someone please kill Mr. Kingly Flashy-Pants over there; there are at the moment more important things than his ego.” The arrogance he spoke with against the very King of Creta as if he was no more than a mere annoyance that had been greatly amplified more than necessary as obvious and yet to Murazar. The man was no more important than a peasant in another country he would never meet more than once.
His vision was blurring worse and worse along with the random haze and flashing in and out of darkness he felt more scared than even before. There was no question about it; anyone in front of him could see it. He was almost blind and heading right towards it like a derailed train. He looked like he was dying to top it off above everything else, and felt like it too.

[Spade Aeries]

"Gotta love being shot, eh?" Hah, that was funny. Spade laughed with his eyes, the cool green flickering dully at his friend. "Yeah, love it," he murmured, surprised at how weak and dismantled his own voice sounded. It hurt to move, but it hurt more to be moved. And the entire trek to the medical tent, Spade was losing himself more and more. His mind spiraled into a no longer lucid world, churning into an oblivion of insanity. His feet dragged in the grass, the blood there streaking against the blue of his military pants and turning it black. It was like he was dead--a soldier being dragged to throw into a pile of dead...so he could have a ceremony made for him--so...people could cry over his tombstone. And it would rain... A monochrome world of death and disconnection... Spade would be there, lying there, cold and unable to move. His mind would be empty for once, and his stomach lacking booze. He would no longer be the Spade everyone knew. And then..what?

His feet stopped dragging and the searing agony blotted out. All motion ceased and he realized he was lying down on a cot already covered with his own blood. Fuck. So this was it... He was really going to die here? And despite all he did to himself on a daily basis and his extreme lack of self-preservation, Spade didn't want to die. Not without his sunglasses!! "Apos," Spade croaked with a burst of energy, "M-my sunglasses fell offfuckingshitgoddammit@#$%$#&*&$%*..." He was going to die without his frames. No one would recognize him. Life was a whore. It was cheating on him. Where was the luck now!? He felt something touch him and his head reeled with pain. It brought him back and he realized that his sunglasses didn't matter. Apos was leaning over him and he saw through the haze that the idiot's normally lackluster expression was filled with seriousness. He spoke then, eyes beaming with intelligence and something else Spade couldn't quite pick out. Regret?

"I'm leavin'."

Another one gone. Spade felt something then that he had never paid attention to in his rather pointless existence. Loneliness gouged out his heart and it fluttered against his ribs, skipping erratically over milestones of misfortune. Or maybe that was just his life ending. Something pricked his forearm and it would have hurt had he been paying attention. A rush of something flowed through his veins and he wondered if maybe it would just continue to leak out until the end. Spade had never felt so close to death before... Not even when he jumped off the feris wheel to save Markus...or when Shirley shot him... This was too damn near to his heart. The only reason why he was sure it hadn't hit was because it was still beating.

"I'm going off on a journey. Dunno how long I'll be gone for. Dunno if I'll come back the same man. But I wanna learn. ...Trust me, Spade...""

It sounded like he had a choice--like it was going to be possible to stop his friend from leaving him. Would Spade even be capable of that? Could he lay there and watch him go? Could he shout out and tell him that leaving would hurt more than he knew? He didn't know... But Spade was sure that he would do what he always did best: nothing. He wouldn't encourage nor refute--he wouldn't wave goodbye or shoo off; Spade would watch--watch until he couldn't see anymore. And he would feel--feel everything and hide it with his crooked smile--drown it in beer--blow it out in plumes of ephemeral smoke. "Ain't nobody I call my enemy. S'why I can happily flirt with them Aerugo broads."

"You weren't meant for the military anyway."

And just like that, Apos was gone. Briefly, Spade found himself wondering if he would ever see him again. He saw blurred figures of doctors milling about, muttering that the only reason why he was still awake was because of the adrenaline. Everything hurt...until they pulled the bullet hole open and dug through oceans of blood until they found the bullet lodged in his shattered ribs...and then it hurt more. Spade had never screamed in pain before.

At some point he had passed out, but it was only for a moment. He woke up to wires pulling at his skin and needles passing through it. He saw two bewildered faces that belonged to the same body and heard laughter from somewhere else. "That's Spade Aeries for ya." Now he was a stereotype? Spade sucked in a breath and tried to move, which resulted in a sharp command directed at the commander... Funny how roles switched when you got shot. "Don't move!"

"Ah, I...recognize that..voice..." Spade struggled out, feeling pressure slam down again his chest. His equilibrium flipped and he was on the ceiling. Oh god. He was falling, but going nowhere. "K-Konrad, y..you...Shula?" Another laugh ensued from closer this time and Spade heard a pleasant smile in it.

"Of course, you dare doubt me? She's safe, but something happened to her. She's spooked and wouldn't let me ask anymore questions. It had to have been something terrible to get her into that state. I was looking for you...didn't think I'd be directed here..."

"She's alive," Spade voiced with relief. For now, that was all he cared about. He couldn't die and leave anyone stranded. Something stuck into his skin and a cool liquid plunged through his body. Something heavy and plastic wrapped around his face and forced air into his lungs. Spade was thrown into unconsciousness, having no idea that when next he woke, his city would be destroyed...

[Aurelius Schwartz]

Lyte's voice filtered cruelly through the monitor, showering the pair with forbidden information they weren't supposed to know. They basked in it, together, on the musty mattress. Clothes were strewn about the dank basement--cast aside without a care. Mismatched eyes ravaged the girl just as much as his skin pressed into her--finding connections as the country became severed. People were dying--two beliefs clashing, and Hild feigned ignorance to it all. If they had wanted, they could have saved them all. A smirk curled dastardly onto his lips. If they had wanted. Red flickered with blue and he watched the timer on the monitor descend to 0:00:00. Physical pleasure wafted off their naked bodies and Aurel pulled himself from the thin, off-white sheet and to his feet. They padded across the cold cement while he shot her a look that said it all. It was time. Mental pleasure resonated in neon lights, garishly filling them up in a feeling that can only be described as iniquitous.

Without hesitation, thin, ghostly fingers wrapped themselves around the button that was cliché for personal reasons. He took Hild's hand with his other and guided it languidly to his until the piece of plastic was entirely sunk into the metal under-laying. Immediately, everything shook around them, pieces of ceiling cascading to pinch bare feet. The monitor went black, cutting off all connections to the world. How many people had died, he wondered. How many lives were ruined for the greater good? It hurt relishing in their pain, but he was smiling. After all this time...finally the first step of his master plan was complete. He was ascending the staircase he built himself, a hand lazily cast out to run along an ornate railing--the only thing that kept him from jumping. Feral eyes clasped Hild and he pulled her lips as into his as he could before letting go and drawing the radio to his mouth. Pearly, white fangs peeked out when he began to speak to everyone who had a device that could read radio signals. Aurel was only half human.

"It pleases me to be able to speak to you like this," he cooed, "however unfortunate the circumstances are, that is. My name is Aurelius Carston Schwarz. Those of you who do not know me be ashamed, for this world will soon be ours. Amestris is no longer; it is but mere ruins to my wrath. Know now that there is nothing to return to: all is lost. But I ask that you do not despair; there is, of course, reason for my madness, that which you do not need to know so soon nonetheless," there was a pause as Aurel turned to meet Hild's eye. He flicked his tongue against a fang and move the speak but closer, lowering his voice to a wisp of malice. "We are RIOTE, sound familiar? The Fuhrer has forgone herself and stands beside me. Run now and forever be chased, stand against us and forever be taken down. Do not fret, do not fear, the inevitable is inevitable. Join us."

He cut the connection and felt something he couldn't describe, eyes shining in a murderous luster. Oh sweet prevailation! He dropped the device to the ground with pieces of caulking and pulled his trident from the wall where it stood gleaming at him in the darkness. Glorious darkness. Through the prongs gathered more black--so deep it could be seen apart from the festering dots of imperfect eyesight. He clutched it to himself and thrust oblivion at the monitor--at the radio--at everything left behind. It disappeared into nothing. The nothing he loved to sink into himself--uncrossed territory of human incomprehension. Hello Death... Valuable to no one but himself. A tool used for fear--to grip the hearts of the weak--to send them reeling into a tunnel of despair. Aurel would find himself grinning in the face of it's undeniable--indescribable destruction. Inevitability swooned at him and licked whatever scraps of soul he had left until it dripped into consciousness. He watched the tides churn and carry him directionlessly into the arms of a sister who wasn't his sister. He clung to strings pulled from the fabric of his humanity only to let them be blown to the wind uselessly.

It was the beginning of flapping--flapping tattered wings skyward to see fire--fire that ate lives and singed hopes. He stood there at the top of the stairs to see a vast blue filled with the fumes of ruined lives. A clammy hand slid from his trident and it clanked to the rubble. "KUFUFUFU," he cackled maniacally, holding bloodstained hands out to behold everything he had created. Ultimate...uncompromised annihilation. Hahahaha it was perfect...so very perfect. But it was time to disappear, to slather their grubby fingers with the next step.

[EXIT TOPIC]

[Reila Tsukino]

"Impressive...most impressive...but you are not done yet Daigoro Ito." Xan's words resounded throughout Reila's entire being and she backed away, shaking her head with wide eyes as if she were in denial that this was actually happening at all. With a whip of red hair, she flung her head around to see the Ishvallan standing nearby them. His voice chilled her core--the amusement in his eyes made her sick. Xan had known? All this time...he had known? Her hands flew to her mouth and tears sprung anew. Why did it seem like she was the only one standing alone in the dark?! Why, why, WHY!? She swallowed back sobs, taking deep breaths to calm herself because she knew that Dietrich could see her weakness through the fray of Jet's blade. "Perhaps, if we both live through this, we could discuss this further?” What made them so different--what lines separated Dietrich and her so far from each other that they had to fight like this? Weren't their objectives the same? She bent to the ground and squeezed her hand around the hilt of her sword, clutching it like a life support to her rapid chest. Power...Peace...Pain... all melded together into a single thing: war. "Freedom and peace aren't gained, they’re earned." And by people--people who care about other people--people who don't wage war for the sake of obtaining power over those who can no longer fight back. Dietrich was going about it the wrong way... What--what exactly was he seeking? Was it the fall of the militaristic Fuhrer? She wanted to know...to discuss it further with the man whom everyone wanted to kill. And she...no longer felt the urge to take his life from him. There was something else...some other reason why this war was being fought. "If your Furher had attacked us, I wouldn’t have had to do any of this..." Was that true? He took no pleasure in killing...he wasn't killing Amestrians to eradicate them so he had to be killing them to accomplish something else. Oppression...fear...power? What would he gain by their loss? What would he demand in return?

Her golden eyes flickered like a dying camp fire--embers glowing just before they went out, and then...she was back in a dank cave. Cold air swarmed by flames, men all huddled around playing a child's game. Truth or Dare it was. Dai and Mura...when they didn't know each other--when they had to ask questions to know the answers. The dawning ages of their Briggs... the beginning that lead to this road--this road where Mura faced Dai and saw him as an enemy. She bit her lip and dared raise her eyes from the fire of memory and to the movement in front of her. What she saw shocked her further... No longer was Dai wearing a Cretan uniform, but now adorned that of Briggs. Oh god... this wasn't real. She blinked back blurs and tried to stay focused on the fact that everything was tangible. If she wanted, she could reach out and touch the fabric. It was there. It was there. "Dai..." she managed to sputter before he opened his mouth and spoke to her.

"Do you really think I'd betray you? I love you. I've always loved you. In fact, there is nothing that I would hate MORE than betraying you." Was that true? After everything, she wasn't sure what she could believe anymore... This love he spoke of...it sounded false to her. Because--because...he hadn't been there. He left--he left Briggs. And he left her. Xan never told her he existed let alone left. And Mura...that's why he hadn't said anything when she asked... Did they all know about Dai's plan to betray Dietrich and kept it from her? How...had he been planning on getting her memories back? Was he going to down Dietrich and pry out some sort of method from him? It was all so obscure--so vague and unexplained. The battle had stopped around them and she made eye contact with Jet, seeing something there that should couldn't grasp. Tears? Was he okay? Had Dietrich used words against him as well? Her attention flitted back to Dai. Why..was he saying all of this--cutting out his soul and showing everyone who stopped to listen? This...was too much--he was saying too much. But he wasn't lying. She knew him and it wasn't a lie. He hadn't intended to leave Briggs, but he did nonetheless. He left to do something for himself... to show this king the pain of losing something, but... "Wait, Dai! This isn't even half of--" She heard a beep and stared at the transmitter in horror. What had--

”I can't bring myself to kill you. Call it whatever you want, I call it ideals. But I'll tell you this now. It's... call it a simple warning. I. Am in love. With Reila Tsukino. I. Will always be. In love. With Reila Tsukino. Do. Not. Fuck. With. My. Girlfriend.”

"I--I'm sorry..." Reila sobbed out, gripping her sword as hard as she could and pointing it at Dai's neck. "I'm not your girlfriend. Now get on your knees and prove your loyalty to Fort Briggs. Reconfirm your allegiances before me, Lieutenant Colonel Daigoro Ito." Struggle and pain scrapped at the edges of her unwavering voice, eyes burning through tears that fueled her anger. Betrayed. Betrayed again. It whispered to her in venomous tones--her own voice that wasn't her voice. The beeping was getting faster... And when it stopped... BOOM!!! Mura. That sound was Mura's alchemy. And the hole that-- Oh my god. He blew himself up. He...blew...himself up...to get across....

Reila was running before she knew that her legs were moving, leaving a faint trail of blood behind her. She reached the silver-haired man a few yards away just as he had stood up. She stopped when she saw his expression. "Your not the only one who loves her, Daigoro. Rei-chan, I love you with all of my heart." She fell to her knees in shock and wrapped her arms around herself. The sheath of her sword bumped along the rocks that the blade reflected at her side. He said it...

"Then...then why didn't you tell me...about--about Dai...Mura?" She dug her nails into the armor around her stomach and slammed her mouth shut.

"You wondered why a mercenary did so much for a country, a fort, a leader I shouldn't have believed in. A mercenary that’s only visible motivation was currency. ... I love you and I can’t throw it away or push it away like everything else. I can’t try and keep you away like I try to do to everyone else. Everyone around me dies and I can never protect them, but if anything. Today I will not fail in that, I cannot fail.”

Reila couldn't cry anymore; she felt specters of them overflowing her eyes, and yet nothing fell. She reached for him and cupped his face in her cold hands, staring into his eyes...but it was as if he stared through her... His pupils were dilated. What...what was wrong?! "Mura..." she whispered, trying to regain control of her voice, "don't... Please. I'm right here, see? It's okay, you don't need to protect me." Some distance away, Dietrich was speaking to Dai and Jet, but she only heard fragments. Around them drew itself in darkness, emanating from Mura and thrashing with his hatred. She had to stop his alchemy!!

"I’d ask which shade of gray suits your preference, but I believe both of you have made your stances pretty clear."

The beeping stopped. And the entire ground shook violently as if there was an earthquake. Reila felt like she had when she was four--that sudden wave of fear when everything that ever was began to shake. Smoke furrowed above and then another explosion sounded from far away, throwing nearly everyone to the ground. What had Dai done? How many people did he just kill? She clutched at Mura's peeling arm as lightly as she could and looked at him with such trauma that it physically hurt her. And then...she heard a voice--a sound so cold that it was beyond anything she could make--come over her radio. It filled the air, it ravaged the battle field, and many people stopped shooting. Silence...silence and his voice echoing out from everyone. "My name is Aurelius Carston Schwarz." Him. "Amestris is no longer; it is but mere ruins to my wrath. Know now that there is nothing to return to: all is lost. We are RIOTE, sound familiar?" Reila turned and met Xan's eyes in fear. Please...please, she begged, don't let it be Xan...not this time--not again!! It couldn't be...he wouldn't. He wouldn't do this to her... Xan wasn't part of RIOTE anymore. They all thought it was destroyed. It had been...a ruse. That man--that evil man was behind it all. It wasn't Xan. She tried to smile. "The Fuhrer has forgone herself and stands beside me. Run now and forever be chased, stand against us and forever be taken down. Do not fret, do not fear, the inevitable is inevitable." But who was saying it was inevit--

Wait, he was saying Amestris...was...no longer? Hah, bullshit! It had to be a bluff.

"Lieutenant General Reila Tsukino," her radio spoke again, "I have just received confirmation. Just five minutes ago a series of bombs went off in all the major cities. Central and East Cities are in ruins. West and North Cities are nearly collapsed. What are your orders?"

...

"Cease fire," she barked, climbing to her feet and stalking over to King flashy pants in golden armor. It was as if all her emotional baggage dropped off her like a rock fallen into tormented water. "He's...not joking. I want a cease fire, Dietrich. Please, now. Amestris...it's been attacked by its own government. No one is there to protect it." Her golden eyes narrowed into slits, red hair falling over them and sticking to her forehead like the blood to her leg. It trickled down her heel and collected under her boot. She couldn't think about herself now; there were more pressing matters. People, their people were suffering...their cities were burning. It was all clear to her now. Aurel had chosen the perfect moment for his plans: when no one was there. South City--Aerugo...West City--Creta... It was so perfect--so unbelievably flawless that she saw no way that it could not have happened. How long had they lived with bombs under their feet?!

"Roger that."

"Jet inform your troops of a cease fire. Xan, can you tell East Forces and Central Command to pull back?" Oh god. Everything was turning to hell. She shifted a pained expression at the King of Creta laced with anger. "It seems your wish came true."

[Shula Brighton]

The The flight to West had been heavy and silent, Shula either staring out despondently or wiping her cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve when she thought nobody was looking. If anyone had said anything to her, Shula hadn't heard it, the world having gone somewhat fuzzy and slipped into a state of skewed reality. It was like she was watching TV and not really there, but there all at once, or like how in a video game you are the character but something else controls your moves and destiny. None of this was real anymore. Even as they landed and she was helped down, it still wasn't.This wasn't the real city, she knew it. The air here was heavy and burned her eyes with the horrible smells of gunpowder and blood, things burning and machinery. Too choked with the sounds of pain and life slipping, of things being shot and crying out. She flinched hard subconsciously as she was helped down and out of the helicopter, her eyes, normally so bright and vibrant with life's fire, were dull and distant as a sort of numbness tried to grasp at her psyche.

She rebuttoned her coat as she was lead to the yellow tent to see what her orders were and slumped to her knees in the grass as she was told to stay put for a moment. Konrad had been sent to fetch her by Spade personally, but Spade was nowhere to be seen. Shula wondered how her own CO was faring and if she would see Colonel Pearlstein again. The plump older woman was merry enough, but something had always told Shula that Uschi could spit tacks through fortress walls if she wanted. Shula held tightly onto her own arms, trembling and rocking slightly. Were she more coherent, she might wonder if she'd made a mistake in joining and realize that to be happy you needn't look further than your own back yard because if it wasn't there, it wasn't anywhere. Or if she should have taken his offer to apprentice her father in the atelier and sleep at night hearing the lowing of the calves on the warm hillside.

Shula breathed out and stopped suddenly as she coughed when the exhale went too deep. She paused, pressing her hand lightly to her breast and breathed in again slowly, feeling. Over the years she'd become rather tuned into her body and had learned to tell when things were more amiss than usual to a degree. Slow and deep from the diaphragm; chakra breathing. The breathing she'd used to meditate with and control her fire with. And then it happened again on the intake as it went too deep, causing her to purse her lips and lean forward as her body spasmed. She sat up, panting a little, feeling her cheeks flush. What...What's happening? What did that bastard do to me? There were several long moments where Shula heard nothing but her own empty thoughts, the chaois outside around her still distant and fuzzy until a runner popped in and put a hand on her shoulder. Forgetting herself entirely, Shula flinched hard as she yelped, her own arm moving up defensively to bat her comrade's hand away from her person.

"Don't touch me!" The soldier looked down at her, a little startled by her outburst but shrugged it off quickly.

"Lt. Colonel, you're wanted in the infirmary tent." Shula frowned up at him.

"I said I was fine." She'd never been particularly good at lying, even as she took the offered hand to stand up.

"Orders are above both our heads, Ma'am. Spade's there." Shula's stomach sank. Why was her boss in the infirmary? She ducked out, no longer arguing or questioning, hurrying along behind until she'd reached the medical tent, her nose wrinkling at the smell of blood and disinfectant. She was already familiar enough with those smells, now it just smelled like she was swimming in it as she stepped around the beds and tables. One of the attending nurses gave Shula a quick look, but after her hands were also batted away the Ishvallan's actions were summed up simply to shell shock. Shula's hand went to her mouth. It killed her to see Spade so... un-Spadey. Even drunk enough to knock out an elephant she'd never seen him unconscious. Or bandaged like this. Last time they were in the hospital together she wasn't able to leave her bed due to the breathing machines, and only found out later that he'd escaped from the ward without being released. But this.... this was...

She covered her mouth tighter, stifling the noise and trying to calm her heart and lungs. Last thing she needed was one of the doctors in here to figure out her little secret she'd fought so hard for years to hide. Finally Shula breathed out with a loud sniffle. "I hope Acra's okay..." One of the nurses looked over to her.

"Major Schiwatas? He was flown out of here a while ago... He's in surgery for a gunshot wound and severe burns." With as much gentleness and bed-side manner as a freight train, the nurse dashed off as someone else was brought in, leaving Shula feeling very much alone right now. Her best friend was in surgery. Her boss had just finished surgery. The world felt like it was burning down around her. And she'd never been so afraid in her life for herself and the people she'd never see again. Shula moved numbly and stood at the head of Spade's bed and sniffled into her hand, muffling quiet sobs of fear and despair as her other trembling hand moved outward to brush through soft brown bangs that had become somewhat matted in the chaos. It was all she could think to do. Slowly, quietly, the haunting tune of the Ishvallan lullaby drifted back upward and out through shaking lips as tears openly streamed down her cheeks.

"The spools unravel and the needles break. The Sun is buried and the stars weep. Oh, black wave! Oh black wave take me away with you! I will share with you my golden hair and my bridal crown, and my bridal crown... Oh, take me down with you! Take me down to my wan'dring lover with my child unborn, with my child unborn...."

[Spade Aeries]

"I hope it's not my child," came a murmur from below. His oxygen mask lay discarded beside his head, and a sloppy smile played on his lips. It was a sweet song...she had been singing. It almost made Spade wonder why she was in the military instead of being a vocalist for heaven's sake! He tilted his head with obvious effort in order to see her better, but his amused smile soon vanished at the sight. "Fuck why are you crying? Did they tell you I was going to die or something?" He hadn't even realized that he was still speaking Ishvallan until the slur of words left his lips. Spade looked down at himself for the first time and noted the fact that his bandages were caked in blood. He grimaced and set his emerald eyes back up at her. He didn't feel as terrible as he did before...so he had guessed that he was going to live for now, but...it did feel like every beat of his heart hurt...just not as much as a woman's tears.

Spade forced himself up, pushing his spent body into a sitting position and then off the bed altogether. Everything spun in zig-zags of corrupted color and his equilibrium couldn't decide whether the ceiling was the floor or the floor the ceiling. He gripped the bed siding and felt the blood drain from his face. Shit maybe this was a bad idea, but fuck it! He pulled the girl into a hug and shut his tired eyes behind her. "It's okay, Shu, even if I die, you'll still have Apos to annoy the shit out of you. Or...wait, he left haha..." He pulled away and stumbled off to the side a little, grabbing the nearest wall for support. "Shit well, I suck at comforting women. Men you just hand 'em a beer. I--uh..." Spade, change the subject man... "So Konrad told me...you got on the helicopter okay?" He could only talk in bursts and struggled to hold himself up, surprised that in no time at all he was already tired. And to top it off...Spade was acting the most awkward he had ever been. He was going to die, right? Well, it should have been with the bang--none of this slow shit, dammit! "These fucking drugs I can't even breathe right," he rasped, sliding down the wall with his back against it. He shut his eyes and his arm twitched to touch his sunglasses that weren't there. "Josef Draper is dead. Acra was shot. Apos is leaving. And me...I'm so sorry, Shula."

[Shula Brighton]

"I hope it's not my child."It took a moment before it registered that Spade was regaining consciousness and listening to her sing. Shula blinked, red eyes shining and puffy from crying and then hurriedly tried to wipe her face clean with her uniform's cuff. Surely there was a rule against crying in front of your boss, kind of like how there was no crying in baseball. He was awake and smiling a little, so that was good at least. But dear Ishvalla the man looked like a train wreck... he really did need a warning sign around him, didn't he? Shula was trying to think of how to explain why she ws crying without sounding like a useless coward that needed to be shot when her boss began to sit up, much to her protests urging him to stop moving and lie back down.

Without warning, help or permission, Spade was standing and had grabbed her against him in a surprisingly tight hug; given his condition, Shula was amazed he was doing anything more coordinated than being able to touch his fingertips to his nose. He held her there, and Shula tried to not let herself be pulled against his chest too tightly, not wanting to irritate his stitched up wounds. As much as she was trying to protest, the words wouldn't come. She knew that there were rules about not hugging your superior officers and the like, but dammit all, if she'd ever needed one, it was now. "It's okay, Shu, even if I die, you'll still have Apos to annoy the shit out of you. Or...wait, he left haha..." Shoulders shaking, Shula pulled her arms around him to hug him back, not caring that her face was making his bandages more damp. How the hell could he laughing about this and commenting about comfort beers? Shula tried to crack a tiny smile as he pulled away and leaned against the wall instead of doing the smart thing and laying back in bed, mentally agreeing that going out for a round right now would be fucking amazing.

"You.. you nut," Shula sniffled softly, still trying to win against the salty wet battle on her own face. Soldiers didn't cry. They reacted and were strong for the people who couldn't be strong. If she was seen as so weak... On the other hand, what did it matter? Two weeks left to live, so what was the worst the Military could do, fire her? She watched as Spade leaned heavily against the wall and obediently moved to his side, ready to pull her arm around him to help him back into bed, or sit down there with him until the world ended. Her best friend was gone off to surgery somewhere, other other friends were getting shot at.. one constant in her life was all she needed right now, one solid anchor to keep from slipping.

[/color=green]"So Konrad told me...you got on the helicopter okay?"[/color] Shula's stomach bottomed out slightly. She was slightly more rational now than she had been when the captain had found her behind the rocks. Granted she was still shaken and twitching from it, but she'd at least had sense enough to button her coat back up. He wouldn't notice that... Shula felt herself go pale. When Konrad had found her she hadn't redressed herself properly. Her gun was in pieces away from her. Her bracelets were off and away from her, too. Her coat was buttoned now, but she was still missing her fire bracelets, her issued walkie, and her dog tags. Maybe Spade wouldn't notice? Shula gave a faint, uneasy smile, reaching a hand up to give his uninjured shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah, Boss. I'm okay." That was a lie and she knew it. She was more and more certain she was less okay than she'd ever been in her life's sliding scale of okayness. Shula glanced down, unable to look him in the eyes as she fibbed straight to his face. Right now Spade didn't need to know the truth. Nobody did. She gasped as Spade slid downward, the strain of talking and moving too much for his spent body already. Her small, thin arm moved around his back to try and help him up but paused, red eyes widening as she listened.

"Josef Draper is dead. Acra was shot. Apos is leaving. And me...I'm so sorry, Shula." Her breath held. Was he... trying to say goodbye and anticipate death any moment now? Were she a less caring person she'd have probably kidded herself about the bright side being she'd be dead soon, too, so he would at least have company. No. No no no no NO! Shula sucked in a breath only to have it stopped short by puffing and coughing once more, hot, fresh tears falling down her cheeks. She'd had enough. Enough killing and death and horrible, sad things in such a short time frame to last longer than she'd ever wanted it to. She refused to let anyone else leave her alone.

"So help me Ishvalla, Spade... If you die, I will NOT hesitate to bring you back!" She knew that was a cardinal sin among alchemists, but at this point she no longer cared. She'd lost too many friends today, realized how many families were going to be broken and shattered and destroyed by this. Tears fell, Shula not bothering to wick them up or hide them, more worried about making her point to her playboy boss. "I will bring you back SO fast it'll make you dizzy-" Her breathing began to puff, struggling to keep up with how upset she was getting as she forced the coughs down as best she could. "-and then I'll beat you into death or submission with your own-" Sniffle. "-goddamn neglected-" Sniiiiiiffle. "-PAPERWORK!!" Choked sobs mixed with strained, airy coughing, her lungs and heart protesting against the adrenaline from being upset and how fast she was having to breathe to compensate for it as Shula finally moved her hand to her face to try and clean it once more with her coat sleeve.

[Spade Aeries]

"I will bring you back SO fast it'll make you dizzy--and then I'll beat you into death or submission with your own--goddamn neglected--PAPERWORK!!" Spade got chills. Not the paperwork, anything but the paperwork! "But I'm already dizzy!" A grand smile was thrown onto his face--one he couldn't resist making. That was the Shula he knew and occasionally flirted with. "Boss... You couldn't handle me." The one he couldn't handle--the only one he couldn't handle. He placed a quivering hand over hers on his uninjured shoulder and pulled her down beside him, tapping the floor with his other. "Sit with me" until the end--until whatever came. Green eyes assessed her--green eyes no longer glazed with pain or the side effects of whatever drugs they gave him. And in this moment of clarity, detective Aeries pulled himself to the surface and gasped for fresh air tinged in the setting sun. His eyes narrowed. "Yeah, Boss. I'm okay."

She was lying.

But Spade didn't care about what she wanted to hide. Instead, he lightly took her head and pushed her ear to his chest. "See, I'm still alive for now. ...hear it? I'm not going anywhere...not just yet. So you can't leave me either." He let go of her and stared deep into the recesses of her soul. Shula was an irreplaceable friend who just happened to work under him. Could he order her not to die? Would...it work? His delusional self was half-convinced, but he decided to start out his questioning slowly. I mean, she was already having trouble breathing right aside from the sobs wracking her body... It could be too much, but Spade was sure that if he couldn't handle her, then she could handle him--or else they wouldn't be able to work together like this. He frowned and took a deep breath, ignoring how lightheaded he felt. "Your dog tags are missing," he jingled his own for effect and raised an eyebrow. You don't just misplace those things. "And your beautiful bracelets aren't on, Shu. I have to admit that I've never seen your wrist so...naked~" He laughed slightly and winced, gripping the bandage where blood came back on his hand. "It's pretty hot." He winked, attempting to draw attention away from the fact that he was leaking everywhere. Shit. He needed to take it easier.

Spade pulled out a lighter from his pants pocket and a bent cigarette from his other. He placed the stick between his lips, but didn't light it. It would be a bad idea for her coughing. He put the lighter back in his pocket and leaned his head back until it hit the wall. Ow. Hello unwanted bruise. Fuck you! "You couldn't be crying this much over me and Acra. We aren't that cool. But if you don't want to tell me, I can deal...possibly. It seems I'm holding out okay so I'll just watch over you. Deal?" He smiled and patted her head, ruffling her already messed up hair. Such a beautiful blond... Any man would be lucky to have such a wonderful person. Spade felt lucky just to have her as a friend... Which was funny... Spade Aeries was the ultimate womanizer, but never won over this one. That was probably why he respected her so much... A dame like her wasn't one to reckon with.

"I lost my sunglasses too... getting shot really sucks. Did we win the damn war yet? I just want to go home."

[Murazar Dauthi]

Murazar couldn't move, he was frozen. Why. Couldn't. He. Move! His vision was fading in and out as Rei-chan appeared before him. As she asked him that question,"Then...then why didn't you tell me...about--about Dai...Mura?" He responded softly as the only thing he could see and just barely was her face. He started to cry, the tears running down his face slowly. He replied softly, " Because, it would do you no good to worry about something you couldn't remember. It would only hurt you more."

He paused a moment "Mura..." she whispered, trying to regain control of her voice, "don't... Please. I'm right here, see? It's okay, you don't need to protect me." He clung to her softly and spoke." I guess i'll have to rely on you." He paused a moment to blink and suddenly he couldn't see her anymore. He gripped her tighter and tucked his head next to hers, he spoke with for the first time ever. With a edge of fear, he was scared."I can't see you anymore, I can't see anything." He whispered with greater fear,"Dont let me go Rei-chan, please dont let me go."

He was hearing what was going on, but he was barely in control of himself. The darkness he created died out. His fingers were just holding onto Reila, he was trying to keep himself from crushing her. He was scared for his life, he couldn't see, he felt like he was dying, he could barely move his body, then he was thrown over by the explosion. From the sound of things Dai had caused the explosion. Did he really just commit mass murder? What was going on? Why couldn't he?.. Oh.. He realized his suicidal attack had caused his blindness and everything after that spread it just a bit more and more until he had no way to see anymore.

He groaned as he slammed into the ground and Rei-chan still tried to hold onto him. He felt her leave him to go berate that minor leader, that fool and golden idiot. She also demanded a cease fire, he had listened to that damn Fuhrers voice. He staggered to his feet and clutched his arm, he muttered to himself. He slammed his fear into the deepest depths that he had. At least for the moment, it was threatening to constantly smash out and he had barely control over it. Just a little longer.

" Xan, we need to leave. Soon, back to Briggs." He scrambled around and finding a radio that had been thrown to the ground in the confusion. The metal pinging sound had caught his attention when it fell. He picked it up and instinctively changed the frequency to his troops he had brought from briggs and spoke," This is the Head of the North. Murazar Dauthi. I am requesting all of my forces to regroup and prepare to evacuate back to Briggs. Prepare now." Afterwards he pocketed the radio before collapsing to his knees. He was barely holding onto consciousness at this point.

[Shula Brighton]

Gently, Shula moved down to her knees and then her rear as Spade urged her down to sit by him. It wasn't a command, but a request; that was something funny she'd noticed about her boss. He very rarely gave real orders and mostly just asked you to do something for him. She loved that, honestly, and tried to model herself after it as best she could in her own department. In the months she'd been working there, yes Spade outranked her indefinitely, but he'd never treated her like he did. Never seemed to treat anyone that way. At South she'd had to kill herself practically to be seen as something more than weak, something more than the token Ishvallan, or just some little girl running away from a tiny village nobody cared about. Here she worked harder than she ever had, but she was respected by her boss. Shula felt like an equal. And even though she hadn't accomplished the things she'd wanted to in life, something in the back of her mind told her that even if she died here and now amidst the turmoil, she could die satisfied with what she had achieved.

Her sobs began to die down slowly as her head was pulled to Spade's chest, cheeks blushing hard for a moment as the sound filled her ears. It was steady and strong, the current of his blood creating a soft hum around the steady lub=dub, lub-dub of the muscle that pumped it. "See, I'm still alive for now. ...hear it? I'm not going anywhere...not just yet. So you can't leave me either." Shula closed her eyes for a moment and ignored her warm cheeks, just listening to the steady sound and let it calm her down. The tears were subsiding to slow, occasional drips streaking down her cheeks and a few soft hiccups as her breath steadied as best it could. He wasn't going anywhere, and Spade wouldn't lie to her. Shula let out a soft sigh, careful not to breathe in or out too deeply. "Yes, Sir," came the murmured reply as she slowly pulled away from his chest.

Shula didn't try to glance away when Spade looked into her. Instead, she just looked right back. He was looking for something, she knew, but never quite knew what. He'd always been the kind of man who was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. You could tell by the way he watched you and studied when he thought you weren't looking. But then again, maybe that was just part of being a good commanding officer. She was calmer now, at least, though now she was feeling psychologically and physically drained from the flood of, well, everything. "Your dog tags are missing, and your beautiful bracelets aren't on, Shu. I have to admit that I've never seen your wrist so...naked~ It's pretty hot." Finally she looked down toward her lap, so much more quiet than she'd ever been around her boss since she first came and was still shy around him. Damn he was observant... Didn't he have better things to worry about? Shula bit her lip softly, trying to think of how the hell she'd explain herself. "I still have my glass-makers. It's not much, but better than nothing." Better to not lie about it and just answer as best she could for now. She'd think of something to cover her ass with, though; Ishvalla knew she couldn't tell Spade what really happened. She didn't dare.

She looked at her boss' torso, frowning softly as he tried to pretend his bandages weren't seeping through. Not enough to bleed to death, but more than she'd prefer. Frankly, she'd prefer if he weren't bleeding at all. "You really should get back into the bed, boss. I can tape an extra layer of gauze on it if you need... Everyone in here seems to have their hands full." Her voice was so soft and almost spiritless, drained completely of the life and vibrancy that usually warmed Central HQ's offices, especially when they announced cupcakes in the break room. As Spade put the bent cig in his mouth, she was more than grateful that he didn't light it. She didn't know how badly smoke would affect her now, given that just breathing was becoming more difficult for some reason.

"You couldn't be crying this much over me and Acra. We aren't that cool. But if you don't want to tell me, I can deal...possibly. It seems I'm holding out okay so I'll just watch over you. Deal?" Forcing a teensy smile, Shula let out a faint, somewhat empty laugh as she wiped at her cheeks again with one of the remaining dry patches on her cuff. "Oh couldn't I? The people I care most about are hurt. The world's falling apart. I can't stop to get a hold of my own family or protect them. And I've never been so honestly terrified in my life..." Another small laugh slipped past her lips as she tried to lighten the feelings in her chest, ignoring that she was avoiding confirming or denying telling him that something was wrong. "Sorry, Spade... I hope you don't fire my ass for it.. I'm just not really a fighter. But... I'll totally go halvsies with you for a cab home." She forced her smile a bit more, trying not to look as sad and scared as she felt. Please... Please don't worry for me. But...

Please don't leave me alone.

[Spade Aeries]

"Are any of us...fighters?" Spade gasped, his head whirling. And he knew with a sudden fear that his consciousness was waning the more blood that leaked from his broken body. And he almost wished in that moment the bullet had hit his heart. The organ was already shattered beyond repair and the pain he felt raging through him was unbearable. This was probably why he never pulled the trigger when he held the gun to his head. That and... the look in Shula's eyes. Could he cause the same pain to others that they caused to him when they died? No...Spade's heart wasn't completely gone. It was still beating. He could tell by the content look that rose onto the Ishvallan girl's face when she pressed her ear to it. It was still there... And the fact that he had to use her to confirm it was...a very sad thing.

"Acra and I may be hurt, but...at least we're still alive..." He was thinking of Markus and Josef--how much life they still had in them when they ended. He was just a kid...and Markus was just starting out as a strong leader everyone looked up to, but he fell. Josef's dreams...all washed away with the tides of a cold grip, sending them to an oblivion nothing could ever bring them back from. Before Spade knew it, his vision was blurring and tears rimmed his vibrant jade eyes. So much death...so much pain. How could life be so cruel to these people who only wanted to protect their country?! It was...just too much. "It's terrifying..." he breathed, trying to right himself as he slumped over in agony. Whatever they had given him had completely worn off by now and he could barely breathe. The air singed his lungs and his perception faltered further with each tick of the clock. "Call a cab and I'd go just as fast as you, but Apos is still out there...he could be dead. Our men...our comrades are still there fighting to protect the border of our country and everything that we know. Th-this is hell." He closed his eyes and felt something slither down his cheek and vanish. Spade ignored its presence and tried to pull himself up to stand through the jagged tares of pain. It was futile. "I...just want this to be all be fucking ov--"

Something exploded and the ground under them dropped. Everything was suddenly on fire and the tent was falling down on top of them. Screams echoed through the thick smoke and Spade couldn't find voice or breath to use. He did the only thing he could and shoved Shula out of the way of a falling pillar that was cascading down on top of them. She skidded away, but the general wasn't so lucky. It hit him and pinned his body to the cracked floor. His ears rung, his vision blackened, and fear crested on his mind. With his last remaining consciousness, he reached and found Shula, clutching her wrist as if it were a lifeline back to the living world...

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