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His limbs felt detached as his Longfield Rifle laid bare on the mud, the barrel still hot from the shots that had just been fired just minutes ago. His left hand still held firm on the stock like glue. Again, his eyes found its way to his hand again. His palm. A palm of blood and mud. Just shock? The fact that he killed nine people, including one that he personally smashed his head in and two more who were horrified that they could not resist, saw his friend died in front of him, two friends, and he could do basically nothing. All of that could be explained with a single word? Shock? He found the prospect appalling, that when things began to settle down, he would be able to let it all out like the Lance Corporal or this huge lady over here. Maybe he would. He didn't know. But the matter is now. What did he need to do to dispel the shock that had haunted him for the last hour of battle?

But it wouldn't start with just sitting around for him. As Jean was under no condition to report anything, Isaac immediately took over. And for any commanders of any ranks, it was natural that he asked for a battlefield report. To be honest, Michael didn't really pay that much attention really. He was just clawing his ways through the trenches and fought until the moment everything began to settle down. In fact that was the only moment he remembered vividly of what was happening after he entered the Imperial trenches. The Imperials moved away in the direction Michael was heading towards when he charged up that hill, so probably they retreated. He didn't really get to see the rest of them though. Did they employ the same policy just as Middleton had? Or did they even retreat at all, or they just cornered back up into some spot then got cut down?

[color=bf00ff]"I'm not sure myself. But seems like they retreated."[/color] He said briefly to Isaac, after the lady giving him the casualty report. The same time as she saw her, Michael also did. It was her. Private Lucia Farris. She wasn't different from the first time he saw him in that trench though. Did she have to shoot anyone retreating? From the tears, hiccups and wails of the little angel, she probably did. He couldn't blame her or whoever had to die by her hands. They were all afraid that was all. The only one he could blame was perhaps Middleton. That bastard of a human. 

Nevertheless, she received huge amount of cares from the rest of the platoon. Though everyone of them surrounded her with cheers and reassurances. To which it didn't feel...right. It surely was almost natural sense to calm her down and said she need not cry. But why would she need to? She was letting it flow. It was just a measure to cope with the hell-on-earth that is war. It was nature, his mother taught him. Everybody could do that. Jean could. Lucia could. That lady could.

[color=bf00ff][I]'Yet I couldn't...'[/I][/color]

What went wrong...

It was not long when Jean asked him and Isaac to take care of her, taking her to somewhere warm and calm. He was unsure if this squad of his would be able to cheer her out of her misery. She might be able to, but her broken state right now meant otherwise to him. Still, he couldn't really just interject with the rest of the squad who were just showing her good-intentions. He stood up from the dirt and slowly approached Lucia and the rest of the squad, the Longfield rifle on his left hand.

[color=bf00ff]"I'll find the suitable place Corporal."[/color] He replied to Jean, before turning to Lucia, gently and subtly like the wind. [color=bf00ff]"Find me if you want to."[/color] 

With the message conveyed as gentle yet clear enough for her, Michael went off slowly and silently. As he passed through the empty trenches, he looked briefly inside. They were quite occupied mostly, with soldiers crumpling together in a messy pile as they tried to catch their breathes after the long and arduous period of combat, compiled along with those who were also lying but would never be able to get back up again. It was hard to distinguish between both if one was lying down. But he didn't want a trench like that. He wanted a trench completely devoid of any human presence, even death. It was a pretty tough filter, but surprisingly, there was one. It was a little into the trench system, and was merely a very short section that fits the category, but it worked for him.

After discovering such a place, Michael leaned onto the wooden planks of the wall covered in dirt. If she wanted to come to him, the search wouldn't be difficult.
[@AtomicNut][@LetMeDoStuff][@FalloutJack]