Heavy breathing, impatient and dreaded, a panel made of crystal form In Front from the thin air with scattered smokes across all lanes, running on the fields the figure speaks with the panting and heavy lack of oxygen.

"This is Colonel Vyik, 1st line of grip is lost, I'm requesting retreats to any personnel to regroup at 2th line Fraser, copy all personnel of the 45th megalodon brigades!. Request."

Walking the muddy lands, where battle gear, plate armour and crossbows at hands, walks to the back fronts, walking with slow movement. The sky is dark with industrial smoke, crater across the fields where trees tremble and some fall, other burns as if lightning of god struck the many acres of lands, with the smoky mist covering the unknown ahead of everywhere. Just ahead, a man screaming within the trenches with many surrounding the trenches.

"Corporal! Over Here!!" Almost unseeable from the foggy distance, she ran faster, with what little left for the fragile body. With the screaming continues, the sky start to cracks under immense speed of an object, striking the trenches ground, him ducking towards the dry grounds, with the hell fire erupted from the speeded objects the screaming was turned into the cry of salvation of what's left of their minds a body as the flesh cracks and dry from the heat, other fly towards heaven, dropping with no souls, the heads of a soldier, lying there rips within, burning magma attached to the skins, boiling every organ to a bubbly fathom of

imagination of amalgamation.

The ripped half body drops metres from her, not working, and the blood gushes like a fountain, before ending by the lacking pressure while the boiling blood still bubbles by the heats.

The person with a tangled mind of chaos, nothing feels real, nothing feels powerful, everything is just another afterthought. All the cry dissolves into incoherent buzz as the blast- causes the ears to ring for heaven's, and only the hell was heard. Even with blood surrounding the being with even flood driving on the forehead of his, the boiling magma within him, with the energy to run as fast as she could, moving beside the trenches of hell beside it. Looking towards the sky, with crackling air as many explosions across the fields...

Entering the trenches, nothing to expend on the body, sudden drops of functional muscles, dropping into the trenches, hitting his head on the support beam. Fussing outlook onto the sky's, as suddenly many men come towards the trenches of his, one flying figure, heavily armed, comes in the trenches.

Trapping Her onto the air soldier, Openings hereyes, with little energy left, seeing the high up, ahead on the battlefield, where smokes and burn ground were the aftermath.

With the shining lights, going dark towards the horizons, such an orange sky slowly started to appear with no questions nor answers, making waves for the hollow air to wave, a buzz can only be Heard. I awoke.

The streets across the linear buildings, of stones and woods where stars lighted the pulmonic skies, streets filled with vendors and smokes to enjoy on the nightly fest.

Walking across the stone roads with many strangers, wearing coats and fur coated hats, around the cold old times, hair blossoms with lighted white yellow hairs that stream downwards toward her waist, with dirt and stains which have not glossed for much of time. With her, another figure she follows unto, every part of the festival, which the figure confronts the predicament for the situation of it. Coming close to her, still a ways young exploring the vast world of theirs with the figure in military coats, speaks commands for her, lowering to her heights.

"Anything in mind, do you want to get something?"

Even the eyes, green hues brighten within, as though many stars shining inside. Seems void full and discouraged, with unmoving posture to find an answer within. The sounds of footsteps, the laugh with scream from the vendors, the smell of perfuming and delightful smell of foods, blurred into a chaotic null, nothing is comprehensive nor wanting to comprehend only the figure in front of her that still resembles a human.

"Something in mind, misha?."

The blackout was cut by a response of his, her head tilt towards the stones, the sounds around tighten by the steps.

"No, sir.” I could not remember what had happened, all I can remember is the warmest memories that pierce my mind.

Walking around, with many stalls and views, cherry blossoms with many people's smiles, why don’t I smile in this wonderful time. By the sudden views, something sparks the mind of one self, a pin of a man made worlds, a trophy of war, a teddy bear pin, brown and polished, even with many actions, it still held up as it was brightly new, with it, he saw her eyes,

“Do you have anything in mind, now?” With his questions coming to her, her face, still stoic and unblessed, a light still shining in her eyes for the object of mankind, with no words from her, she points to the item she was interested in, a pin with a teddy bear print to it.

After that, all I can remember was how warm it was.

Two Months later.

A man was sitting inside a jail cells, the walls was concretes, lines of yellows that reaches across the areas, where lies ahead many rooms beyonds, a single beds and a bar on the rooms to keep the inside stays, looking down while in a yellow jumpsuits, the dirty floors that sucks in fresh airs to release smells of sweats that lingers, his sides has a patch of which his number appears, Zero, zero, four, written in white impact fonts in a black square patches. Holding his head while staying in the dirty abyssal, with a ceiling fan blowing towards him, the sounds of steps trickle down to the jail cells, the keys rub with each other, the sounds of metals grinding with the silent hallways.

The boots sound heavy, and it’s not alone, as then, an armed guard appears, with a taser to the side, pepper spray and a pistol, ready to kill, looking down upon me. The guards looking inside the cells, lies a man with no destiny, there with two more guards comes to the cells, while him dwindling inside his imaginations. Guard stands firm and, with elegance and fashion, reads

“Mr Mikhail, please look up,” his voice stoic and calms, as mikhail silence, in trances by the grey floors with many little dots of imperfection

He says, in the same voice

“Your new name will be Lite, keep it at that,” with one of the guards opening the steal doors, where a man was approaching to the guards, Lite, looking slightly, see a man in a white collars, with the guards standby the man get inside the cells while two of the guards join on boards, the other one sitting outsides the man wearing a suit for business, looking on him the material is elegances in quality, on navy blue with the right fits. The man in suit walking up towards him, the guards hostering their firearms ready for any alteration, the man approaches, with a bag on the right hands,

placing it on the dirty floors, which cause debris to pollute some of the airs, as then, he squats down on the levels of lites Lite looks back at his face, his eyes is bright in white with a tint of glow insides, Lite pupils dilated with in the darkness, heart, stretch to its limit, with the skin sweats across for more fluid with hair that is dark brown with a ponytail, his face is muscular and to well trains, with his physique fits for an athletes, he clear up his throat with griddy noise, and says in a calm, kind voices.

“Lite, what did you encounter when you met the person in the Luhansk theatre?” with him, quietly waiting for a responds, But nothing appears

“ You found an anomaly, a person, who broke our laws, what do you think of that? Your squad”

Lite Looking upon him straights, his eye were dark browns and empty, his eyebags is big as his eyelids, tired and empty, his voice roughs yet stiff, with a words coming on his lips

“Fuck off..”

That’s all the heard of Lite, a word so short, his mouth moving erratically, shaking my own words. The man, see his responds, his eyes lowered towards the floors,

“We have an Offer for you. And it's a chance for another life.”

The man speaks mildly with no intentions for provocative nor warm, as if water flows on the relaxing forest rivers. Lite, breathing flows with the rivers around him, the man speak

“ If you don't wish to come, we can leave you be, you will be out in 12 years, of course, there is a caviare. You will be working with us, a new opportunity, so how will you choose?”

Lite feels uneasy, his throats now less tense than before, his palm sweats with his replies for help.

“ Yes.”

The man stood up, with his face now with tilted smiles, as now, calm and numbness all over, the feeling of rivers devoid of thoughts, sleepiness is attracted by the situation. Oh, his arm is already at my neck.

All the shapeshifting of time and light of labs while being strolled by many medicals all around numbness with unclear vision to the light ceiling, the wheel's bed stops, with many lights across the newly lit room. They are looking at me; my body feels insecure and scared. The ambient that's not fit for any human is unbearable; it’s painful yet calm and in rivers. speaks of man on the sides, the feelings of penetration on the vein of the arms, with the edge slashing the exposed skins, each cut, each incision, but it feels like home. With another movement, the memories blur, but a giant light appears with it—a sudden sick feeling, the pain that erupts on each nerve. I can’t; I can’t think.

A man sitting on a bench in a facility, where lying in front of him is a swirling hole in spaces, where matters are on the side as if looking into a black hole, wearing a trenches jacket, with darkened hair and a heavily stubbled beard, his eyes were almond brown, and he looked tired as all-time with dark skin under the eyes. A buzz was felt on the waist, rummaging through the pockets, and a phone in a navy blue case rang, placing the phone to the ears.

“How’s the result of 004?” He questions with a stark, rough throat.

The caller replies to a man behind the phone.

"When 004 entered the portal, the planktonic effects were very minimal, and upon contact with the mages, it seemed like one of those individuals.”

He sighs.

“Be straight, straight to the point.”

“Well, uh, he doesn’t have any source or affinity towards the founder's aura at all; his eyes were also not affected or changed; this is the 127th one we’ve recruited with this problem; as the command already noted, his designation on the scale is.

Charlie, I can’t do anything about it. Sorry, for you to hear it.” A calm sigh was noted as the wind blasted into his surroundings.

“Yeah, thanks; I’ll keep an eye out for him. Good luck.”

Wake up on the beds, light dimly on what seems to be a green wall barracks of some sort, the floor is dirt with many beds unclaimed in rows, a person armed in black is beside you with a mask and helmet, with an armed rifles string beside it, and with body armour clean and tidy. The person moves without your notice.

The person called in the radio across its body armour; it was speaking in a foreign language, possibly weird, strange French of sorts; it sounded mumbled by the gas mask the person wears but sounded feminine. The nodding appears on the black soldiers.

He tries to speak to the remainder of his body, but the mind scrambles as pain strikes the nerves around it, causing the headache that occurs. Nothing can come to mind as to what is happening; all thoughts are free to drift to interpretation.

As the talking of the strange mixed French stops, ending with a nod, before the radio closes in lines with a buzzing end, the person looks into your eyes; all you can see is just a Goggle that stares black or abyss, empty to glimpse. The person unholsters the M4 Nato rifles, looks at you, and then speaks in English with a clear and perfect tone of relief.

"You are ready; you might get a headache, but everything else seems clear to go; you are Lite, right?” The way she talks as if we’ve met before, let alone talk. Lite, that name, what happened, why now, and why in this such moment.

"Yes, I’m Lite.” His response was in a low tone, his face still emotionless, with the headache passing away slowly. With it, she shifted her head to the roofs, and as seconds passed, looking back at you, still holding the rifle beside her, forgetting those black goggles, she let out her answers.

“ Well. If you have some headache and pain, that is fine; that always happens in these corner parks. Anyways, you’re now part of the Colonial 7 Division of the 5th regiment of Company 4. Welcome.”

She plays it with an informal demeanour and a warmer tone. Even so, your veins contract, the pressure goes on, and with the need for more air and gasping more, the feeling of headache happens once more, slowly as is. Inner thought monologues on with no one to suppress it.

"Company, what, why I'm here, what is going on?” His heart couldn’t keep up as tension rose, and he frantically spoke with a slight shiver.

The person holding your hand feels coarse and rough as the glove is heavily wormed and beaten; even then, the touchdown was gentle as feathers.

"It's fine; make yourself home; this will be dormant for quite some time. Wanna explore a bit? Get some fresh air if you wish.“

As it happens, the response says something about it. His heart was slowing, the headache and thoughts were flushed by fountains, and his eyes were staring forward to the walls in front of him before laying his head on the bed and taking deep breaths. His eyes were lowered and swallowed, though the pain continued. The eyes slumber, stopping every thought before the dark abyss eats all within.

Eyes open up in the slumbers, the air now chilled, the headache long gone by. Then, looking around, the person is gone, empty and quiet, alone in the barracks, as chilled air runs through the rooms, standing up on the single beds. The rooms are quite spacious for an average barracks, with each having a blinder that covers three-sixty views. The bed is very well made, with drawers on each of the beds and different sheets of colour, some black.

pinks, and some navy blues. With different colours, putting the body to the right side, some combat shoes were already there, and his socks were already fitted in. His breath was calm and cold, with his heart still in question. Putting on the black tactical boots,

It fits perfectly, with the size neither too big nor too small on some parts. Standing up from the beds and squatting to see the small drawers, you can see some papers with unknown language that can’t be interpreted or recognized. Leaving it be, with him standing up, the concrete floors are clean enough. Looking around the barracks, it is quite spacious and has 10 beds all around and a double door on both ends.

Walking towards the doors, a sudden sound of creaking with a swing behind, the sounds of heavy boots stepping between, but the air suddenly moved at a fast pace, the steps that bypassed sounds, the hint of air that travels at an inhuman speed. Looking back, a person was standing there, wearing a white snow camouflage hoodie and cargo pants, black boots, and a red glove. The air stopped moving as the person was in the middle of the room. The eyes glow within, casting a white highlight light glowing with unnatural allusion. The man stands there, his hair and a small amount of white frost lying about.

“Your eyes,” his face was uncertain about the inhuman nature of itself.

“You are new here. It seems as if they put a new bed in as well. Welcome to the camp. Codename Lite, right?” His eyes half down while standing in the middle of the rooms, the air now warms as the doors close behind him.

“Yeah. I’m light” His tone roughened up as the two stood.

His eyes opened a little before he smiled a bit and crooked his head with it.

“Right, welcome to Camp Beta on the southeast side of Rajjyuk. Do you want to try to move around on campus?” His demeanour warms up the now-stable air.

“Oh, yeah, what’s your name? May I ask?” You asked while walking together to the front door of the barracks.

He slightly chuckles and replies with

“I’m Kyoroi Ganto, codename ‘Lizard’. I'm a beta fire team leader. It seems like you are still on static; no worries; they will probably move around; we have two new cadets, and you are one of them; let’s meet them; they will

be back.”

The silent barracks are now filled with sounds other than air that bypass the silence; the inside now feels as if it were at home.

As the doors open by him, the outside is now slimmed down, as the sunsets settle between to change to the nightly skies of the universe of mystery. The barracks were more of a bunker shelter as they were dug deep into the grounds, with a catwalk on the front and a side-deep ditch that led to left trenches and

rights.

The sky was yellow, and the clouds were thin compared to the vast outcast of the blue-to-yellow gradient that crossed the skies. Looking around, there was a small bunker beside a trench with an ammo box and shooting point, facing the sun, where a road of gravel traversed the semi-hilly horizon, with men inside looking around with binoculars. Far away, in a spacious area, there are many single hangers and barracks, but it’s shallow with silence and windy air that breeze around.

Continue walking in front of the barracks. A shooting range, empty but still capable, walks up towards the gun range with little buildups of snow all around, the air freezing the skin to dust.

He looks behind him.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot that you don’t have a jacket; they will get back soon with your new jacket.” I walk to a small range, maybe as far as five hundred metres, as the counting of snow continues, coming close to the table of ranges. After stepping in the standing gun post, a table up front with a metal target far away looks a similar number of times to come across—a noise of memories that speaks a spark of flames.

Kyoroi pointed a rifle holster at him at all times. AR-style rifles are made of man-made machines. Kyoroi handed the rifle to Lite, pointing to a particular red-painted head far from him.

"Can you shoot that target over there? There is a four-scope scope on it, already calibrated; just follow the dots." You look at him as if I know how to hold the weapons of the other country. As the wind rises, you take an aiming shot, resting the gun on the table. The wood is quality to the touch and feels heavy and sturdy from the bolt-well lubricant.

Taking a shot, the dot, the metal head, and the red surface that was painted were aimed with the help of magnifications.

You take a shot.

As the bolt rushed in, the dense metal interior of the machine flipped, and the sound cracked before and before, the spring actions to the small but important hammers, releasing it to the impending explosion of hellfire pressure, the hammer came in contact with the sensitive delighted primes, smacking the springs, firing up the inside, the controlled explosion occurs, with the silver case marking on chemical touch bright with magma reds, the bullet with the marking of hell fire upon to the exit with the enchanted circles sprung into the directions of the barrels, marking of alchemical gods, reaching and aiding you spring into actions the bullet runs through the airs, burning the oxygen that runs around igniting anything around it, the molten bullet rush by and hit the redheads, a small explosion occurs with the smack of metal sounds as a fiery explosion and littered places raining metals all around the still cold snow pileups.

With the echo ripples in the air to the land and mountains not far away, you look beside you. A smug was concluded from him, unbothered.

"Wow, nice shot."

What, what was that?

In the tundra, the breeze still loathes every second. Handing over the rifle to Kyoroi is to show what this world is—nothing like Earth, not at all—and how the gun works.

Kyoroi took the rifle back, holstering it beside him with the attached slings. Every feeling of lite views is easy with little to hide. Kyoroi looked into Life's eyes, empty, dark, and void of rotten smell.

“The bullet was charged by planktonic effect; in layman's terms, it takes the matter, converts it into elemental charge, and puts it inside the bullet, which can store the powers; basically, a glorified high-explosive bullet.”

Lite looked to Kyoroi, and his brain scrambled for solutions to the explanations that had been reported.

Kyoroi vaguely reads the grasping and confusion piling up in him.

"Class Charlie is someone who cannot use or control the planktonic effect."

Lite: “Class charlies, alright.”

He sighs a little.

Kyoroi: “We don't know what they can do; nothing happens to them, possible bad luck, in my opinion.”

The news never really struck him, but it seems to be a disadvantage to not have it. Lite will have mixed feelings about Charlie's classification, but as of now, moving into the straight line clears his mind for now.

Kyoroi smudged a bit, with a small sigh burst.

Kyoroi: "I need you to go to the bunker headquarters not far from the barracks; go meet the new cadet joining you guys. One of your men knows one thing or two about it; go on.” From the meeting points, the close and strict demeanour has evaporated, even in the cold.

Lite moves, the muscles obey, lite saluting kyoroi, with feet straight and body stiffening up to it, fashioned with the elegance of obedience, seeing the determination erupt. with such an enthusiastic aura, even if the smell of decay is profound around him.

Kyoroi, rummaging in waist small pouches, three clips filled With many colours, silver casing, and black-tipped with each of the bullets, fifteen in total, takes his hand towards the light as if trying to give a small gift for a birthday.

“Take this; you might need it; it probably works with the service rifle you will be using, 5,56, right? These are pretty powerful, so make sure you are ready to use them. Try not to break your gun” Now

Taking the clips from his palm, his cold muscles were stiff and tensile.

Lite: “Right on, sir.”

As though everything seems proper, turning sideways to the headquarters, a sudden wind moves up above, swirling around close to him. Looking back to inspect him, he is gone—no sound, no steps, no movement.

Lite: “What is wrong with this place?”

With the mind now bending around, Lite will not input too many stimuli, not thinking much about the logic of the unknown. Walking towards the headquarters office with sandbanks and a shallow ditch around it, two stories with a top seem smaller, as it’s a watchtower of sorts, and there seems to be no movement or light open inside by the windows. Going about, the snow slowly melts as the air shivers.

Lite, with not much protection, the cold is attaching to him, freezing every sweat and drop of water. Walking towards the double doors, on the closed entrances, opening it, a point in the skin from the chin on the left, not moving, a thin light moves into the light that could burn the eyes to blindness in seconds, unmoving, hands slowing to the sky, asking god for guidance on the dance of trances.

The person in the side hallways, heavily armed as if he came from the trenches of rusted and worn mud gear, his helmet reminds me of that helmet I used to wear.

He breathes deeply, breaking the robber mask, and can be heard from close up. "Code, Name.”

Is he my guy? Slowly look at the dark goggles, wearing a winter camo and a machine gun in hand.

He frantically answers.

Lite: “Ehh, Lite!?”

The laser zooms across the floors, and speed descends as it reaches closer to the person.

“. Good. Sorry about that, Command, ask me to.”

The person is five metres at least, the person steps more, and there is a sigil on his shoulder, it reads ‘052’, coming closer, holding off the gun with a sling that carries the heavy steel, the person is a little taller than you.

Coming close to Lite, levitating his arms to handshake Lite.

Lite slowly approaches his hands, holding them and jumping on them.

“You, Lite, are the recruits, yes?”

His voice is rough, stuttering about

“I think Beta Command told you to get to meet the cadet; he asked me to aim at you.”

“What?” disbelief as to the reason for the inconceivable reasoning behind such a command.

The man in gear, rummaging on his belt, even in full gear, felt his movement was never limited from the first time in sight, naturally gliding.

Picking up a key ring on the belts, he handed it over to Lite. The man pointed to one of the hallways that split in three ways at a 45-degree angle.

“Move to the hallway and turn left; there will be a strange metal door. Use the keys.”

With the keys, Lite put them in his pocket. After observing the machine gun, each casing seems to be silver in colour, with many markings on the ends of the bullets, corresponding with the colour of the elements.

Lite, asks, “What is that casing on that belt?”

He looked at his gun.

“Oh yeah, those are enchanted bullets; they store elemental powers. I sound insane, but you will get used to it. Oh right, one more thing.”

He rummaged again, but this time on his back belt bags. After some reaching, he snatched a small piece of paper, its discoloured earthly brown with glowing markings on the front papers.

“This is a talisman; it makes fire; you'll need it for the cadet; just place it on the surface, and I think you can handle it. Oh, and here’s a blanket; you'll need it.”

Voice thoughts over, talisman of sorts, the presence glows red ink that resonates the magical sensations all over, yet it feels as far as the sun, as much as Lite diligently takes it for granted by information from his squads.

I wish to ask, 'What's your name?’

With it, the reply was silently slow, and the reply

“Right, I’m Smith, codename ‘Gary Helcot’, but people just call me Gary. Good luck out there.”

That settles with him

You wave your hands and walk to the hallways where he pointed; it was as in an office: the floors are tiles of cement, with walls filled with concrete and trim on the walls to make an office appeal to it, with the ceiling perfectly intact, light working across the ways, and the floor clean wayside. After some distance, looking back, Gary can still be seen looking through the doors.

In the hallways, a heavy door with a swing on the top, as if it’s an exit door, turns the knob. As expected, it was not budging after turning it, lightly putting the keys in, and unlocking the doors. It required two turns with double locks, and with each click, it echoed into the abyss inside.

Click-

The last steel was raised from the obstruction, and doors stuck to the sides, revealing somewhat dark stairs with a switch beside the doors. Click the switch, and only the light near the door lights up. As the halfway point is lit, after some steps, he reaches the limit and continues walking, which reveals a bunker room, halfway lit as the corner is nothing but darkness. When it is empty, something bright is in the middle of it—a crystal in the middle of such an empty room.

with something inside the crystal. Lite, his pupil moves to observe, and his heart wretches with the unneeded pumps. A figure inside, with some alchemical marking around it and voodoo marking with Lite walking closer, is hard to see, as its centre is nothing but a blurry mess of hazards white.

Lite: “What on earth is this?”

Even then, lite ignores the weird side, taking the papers that I've been given and holding them to the crystal even with the layer of paper talisman.

After some time, the fingers feel numb as needles stab each nerve end.

“It’s getting cold; is it working?”

Even then, nothing happened, all quiet with the exception of the crystal, which made a fairy glittering sound at any time it could. Fingers were lifted along with the talisman.

A knocking was revealed that spread behind the doors. Walking towards you, Gary, who was still armed, each step slightly shaking the concrete floors, walked towards you with menace; he seemed to have something in hand.

“Oh, right, I forgot; you were class Charlies, also here." He threw something.

Lite tries to grab it, but it lands on the concrete, though with swiftness, he takes it from the dirty floors. It’s a camo suit, white with a polyester touch, as the inside is good for insulation.

“Wear that, and give me the talisman back." He raised his hand as if wanting something.

Lite proceeded to hand the useless paper; his hand was cold with the black glove he was wearing.

Lite: "Yeah, thanks, but what is this.?”

Gary moves slightly as if it’s an uncommon reaction.

“On the last expeditions, we took her from the fronts; she was a volunteer per se, one of the divisions that got disbanded; as lieutenant order, we took her in an ice capsule, just a nobody.” Gary stops for a second of silence. Before walking close to the ice prison, touching the talisman in hand and placing it on the ice, the spike coldness unbothered the glove hands.

With silence, the air around starts to melt, a combustion occurs on the papers, and the red flames that grow from the air, suddenly burst into the ice, spreading on about, as if eating amoeba on the cells. The fire spreads and grows, and Gary slowly walks back with the talisman stuck on the ice, burning with a blue glow and red flames all over. The flames eat the ice exterior.

As though the fire engulfs, the room is lit tight with titanium shining red from the blazing inferno, all hail, all glory, to the cent of ash corrosive and repulsive to the breathing nature.

Heat, the heat, it burns yet calms as if absorbed to nothing but ashes all around, light all around, blasting to nothing but the obscurity of mania. As more thought punches through, Gary pulls a little, and then all sight becomes sane and comprehensive.

Smith: "Try not to get too close to the red ash fire; they have some hallucinogen in the smoke and fire, for some reason only this fire can break this type of crystal effectively.”

All the lights, soul vouches to the last fire, as all is well controlled and calibrated, the crystal thins out, with little cracks that reach slowly across.

“Don’t let her get hit in the head." Smith Pushes a little bit into the crystals, which slowly shatter into small pieces as each breaks, causing fragments to chuck flying around.

As subtle as the whole crystal bursts into many more, the body is exposed to a small amount of gaseous smoke, with light coming a little closer to catch the falls.

gases spread about; inside is a humanoid; hair shorts to her shoulder with coldness; pelt shimmers and glows rupture on each silk piece; Snow White with ears tall uprise to the skies; comparatively Slavic in appearance; her eyes with grey looks shudder as gravity pulls her.

Lite moves close to her body with

Lite breathing tightens, and skin by touch his skin freezes to the degree of death.

Smith: “Huh, she looks slightly different.”

Lite: “Shit, she’s cold..” Lite held on to the blankets, putting them on top of her and trying to wrap the frozen body, as touch felt as smooth as ice cubes with small but light breathing.

Smith: “You could just use your jacket to cool her off, she might die.”

Lite: “Really? Damn.”

Smith helps by putting on the puffy jacket, each touch to both of their skins, the burns coming from their fingers stinging for despair, moving to her arms putting the jacket arms, and moving to the next. Her body is heavy in small proportions.

Smith looked too lite while helping zipping the jackets on.

“You don’t take any advantage, if I were you, I would have done some, ‘biological’ inspections, only in my dream.

Lite chuckles slightly

“I have better things to think about, which is not that uncommon in my field. I doubt I’ll need to check for HIV or something as of that.”

Smith: “Lucky you.”

Lite gazes the voice of his.

Lite: ”I’ll put the blanket on her hips. Maybe like a long skirt?.”

Smith: “Hmm, playing dress up with an almost dead body is something I never thought of doing here.”

Smith lifts up both of her legs, the view intense as his face is looking to the heaven concrete ceiling, the detail is overflowing with low-tier information, each direct crack, imperfection, mould, and dust is shining information that floods the minds with meaningless detail up above.

Lite: “Stay calm there..”

Lite slips the blanket under her, lightly wrapping and closing it with the blanket and tying the left hips. Even if the skin is cold, it’s not as intense as in the past.

Smith: “Even with my glove, it does pass through, now she says to put her in bedrooms 1-4.” He scratched his neck with the question, but the withering cold still lingers, with pain striking his neck, stopping his needless scratch.

Lite: “Wait, what about the barracks?”

Smith: “Oh right, that is going to be a storage room, that's why everything is clean and empty, we are about to move it since they don't know where to put it, the leader decided to put you there.”.

With the answers, and music humming around the room, the sounds remind of East Asia Pop, with a Vocaloid tone, with him swiftly picking up the radio on his plate carrier, big and possibly heavy, with padding on his arm joints and legs. A voice can be heard from the sides, rough and sounds like driving through a crash road, as the voice keeps humming about

Smith: “Yeah, nothing has happened as of yet. Mhm, yeah, right, we will put her in the room.” As he speaks, he suddenly stops, and silence fills the rooms with a weighed sense of charcoal, rigid, rough to breathe through the faced air.

Smith: “Alright, yeah, alright, I’ll be on it..”

As then, the sounds from his headset, were quiet, putting the radio back to his plate carriers. I wish for an answer, but the feeling is unreasonable and different, Let’s not do it for now.

He came to her hair, and tied it with a rubber he had, making it now shorter. With him holding both of his hands on her feet, pulling them up as if trying to pull them, he looked at you, quiet and silent, he slightly nodded his head, and you went ahead to her arms, picking her up like a dead body. Pulling her from the ground with the help of Smith, she is nothing more but a 30kg of ammo casing,

Smith: “ Just follow me, we will go to the room”

Lite Nods a little, and with it, you both waddle to the exit of the rooms, as the two men bring the helpless bodies from the hallway to the hallways, many doors with each door thick with clean floors as empty boots reverb around the hallways, with it, her eyes is still close, with the help of the rubber band, it keeps her hair from needing to watch once more, with the cold inner of her has dissipated around the ways we’ve been through, as then, you walks toward with many doors on a bigger room with many spaces, like a jail cell with blocks, but instead of metal bars, is more civil as a wooden door. With Smith stopping beside a door, with the placename on top ‘23-15’

Smith: “Here, you hold her a bit.”

Lite: “Yeah.”

Smith comes closer to me, causing her feet to fold with her contact with Smith's plate carrier, handled with care, as he lifts off the suspensions, she is extremely heavy, or maybe I haven’t worked out much, huh?

Smith rummages through the keys, with him testing out multiple keys, from red to blue colours, as many attempts left, he finally rotates it without a way, an open door. With him opening the door, he enters first as Lite walks behind Smith, with the rooms, are moderate and quite spacious, with a single queen bed, with parent house rooms of spaciousness, for an Infantry room, the rooms are luxurious by the standard of dug in trenches or a small dorm rooms, or a barrack with no personal space.

Entering inside, there are two beds beside, clean and without much dust arounds, a bookshelf to the side with a table with each bed of them, a lamp and stacks of books with many titles, and words of the unknown world. Moving through the now wooden floors, concrete white grey walls with exalted finishing of the floors, bed and with closets on each, with the beds ten metres apart of each. Smith moves one of the left beds, with him pointing and walking towards it.

Smith's face looks back

“Put her on the bed.”

Lite: “Right.”

With the steps close to the beds, walking through the cold air conditions with a radiator to the side, with numbness arms wrapping around, slowly lowering his body to the ground with his Knees on the wooden panels.

Placing her on the beds, lifting his hand from her thighs and backs, with little strength he has left, with arms caressing with stiff pain, with Smith unbothered on the complaints.

Smith: “The group leader will arrive, you can stay here and report anything, here is a radio” Smith Toss a box of objects with antennas, a radio with a display with colours. Lite Nods to smith, which he then waves lightly, before walking to the doors and closing them, very lightly and gently. With him and this body, he tools a chair beside her bed and sits facing her, with the table beside him, with an office feel into the material it uses, putting his head and his arm as a resting place for his head, watching over the hairs, the breathing calms and silent across, with vibrations of the radiator can be heard.

“It’s so warm, so warm, so.”

All the noise, all the cold showered throughout, all the imagination of grounded cascaded nature of mind casting about the endless pondering on calamity mind shocks. The smell, this, feelings, with foreshadowing black combusting with inner thoughts.

So Painful, So soft, So kind, So gentle, So.

The smells of witch, the smell familiar, the end of time.

All I could remember, to the cold concrete floors, waking up inside a bunker.

Stone Cold Valley inside a deep wood, Snow Covering the Machine Gun Post Bunker, Whistling Cold past her with unbearable temperature. His hand started to get colder with every wind.

-"Where's everyone?..."

One cartridge is left, and a rifle is beside her. Standing clear from the outside, covered in red liquid. The radio for help is silent, and the body outside is cold. As the sky darkens.

A light cast beside the crumbling wall, light blue like a sky, bright like a fire.

-"Who's There!!?" Echoing through the vast forest.

The Feeling Surged her, pulled his rifle, and advanced on the cold metal concrete to the white snow; the shine was white and brighter.

"Is it a trap?.." The words that wrap around his mind make him tremble, thinking this is the final time he will see the light.

She looked beside the concrete wall, seeing many in decapitation. Limbs were right around the corner, a river of liquids, but one soldier stood out from the rest.

–"....no…."

The light coming from one of the dead comrades, a blue light almost like an orb-like bug surrounded by the wind, started to evaporate into small glass pieces and fly towards the unknown sky.

"-no-no-no!!."

Dropping his rifle into the cold, bloody snow, the pain of a million needles struck her; she couldn't think of anything and ran with nothing but the cry for salvation. She couldn't let this happen, not her comrade. Not her friends...

The tears flowed into the cold snow, turning into small light orbs, hugging his body, her chest trembling, and her heart starting to collapse on itself.

-no… There has to be a way!

"Is this it? ..." The laying soldier's eyes opened, only for a smile. It stops, and the eyes shunt in silence.

His breathing gets faster as half of what is left is gone. She was desperately trying to stop this madness, taking his rifle and shooting at the obs.

But the muscle spas as all around unstable hands with a tight grip on her chest, and with it, she missed multiple remarks.

The last remains, and the sorrows and guilt crunch into the air, and that's everything; all of the body is gone, the blue light starts to bleak, and the sky is getting darker.

The madness persists in her view, thought shallow about with wind cascade around her, thought tangle and destroyed the reasoning cunning ways, she wishes her deed to be in vain.

By taking the rifle to the bloody ground and putting the barrel on something she hates, one shot and this will end...

The radio sounds louder and louder, and a voice appears before her ear.

"This is C:7 Helcot 05-2 Smith Drockut, we receive a distress signal. Copy company CX:7?"

Her breath and the whistling wind were all he heard, chartered mind on the abyssal, throbbing heart as it felt about to self-destruct. The rifle dropped, and she stood up to all her comrades. All her memories will last. Walking on a tunnel vision to the radio, losing consciousness, balance, and reality. All she can think of is...

"This is Helios-Echo, a response to our distress signal. Code 999.”

As all unfolds, She walks beside the concrete away from the cold, laying down on the hot concrete, and closing to dusk, the cold weather getting bizarre, his mind in a pile of lines, with the smell of monsters, the smell of witches.

-"I wish."...

Even though her heart has been stepped on.

"I will"

-"Save you…"

Even if at times I stumble,

It’s so cold, it’s so cold, it’s so cold, but.

I will save you, I will save you, I will save, all of them, I will kill them, I will avenge you all, and I will try to be of better use to everyone. The hatred of god, heart contest all around, with her breathing fastening, flames were all her thoughts.

Lite Noticed the changes, pulling up the radio hanging from his belts to his mouth. As her eyes, open and widen by the surroundings, standing beside her, the witch, the smell is the same as then, even though the snow is cold, she can feel it, and it is now much clearer than the trenches of snow. Her hands up to him, oblivious to her attentions of hatred. A ring is formed around her hands, the rings all form a strange symbol across, them. With the alchemical transmute arounds her, her hands are reaching someone desperately.

Her eyes, her breathing, her teeth that grind around, I’m I, going to die.

She places her hand on his shoulder, which he retreats, but her speed is subhuman, with the speed of lightning across, lite tries to hit her neck before then, a sudden beam comes out of her hands, the light blues with freezing sensations beside Lite ears, barely dogging it, with his left shoulder feels cold and numbs, he tried to swing to her neck, but the feeling of drowsiness around him, headache after headaches, the pains of past time, the same as before, the grounds of the mud and trenches about, her eyes filled with hatred the same as that time..

I couldn't do anything, but I couldn’t move. With his body stiffened up, he drops to the ground with blood tearing apart on his shoulders, blood that froze by such impacts and blood gush from it, the pain is gone as the numbness arises, as pain strikes the nerves.

After looking, she wakes up, looking down upon him, her eyes, are so bright, yet shallow no remorse, just hatred, and more, eyes flash, with all around suck into the incoming voids, blurry and the darkness is closing in, before a door is open. The girl was suddenly put hold on the desk, the speed was very fast, as her hands were placed in cuffs, with her eyes, not in trances anymore.

All I could hear, was the scream of him and another person beside me, we barely knew each other, why care about me, Smith?

Is fine, you don’t need to care.