[centre][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181008/b02a8e514a847d83c3d8892fffdb6f35.png[/img][/centre][hr] Would it be the last time he met Lucia? She'd probably be safe in Middleton's hand. Not necessarily sane, in fact he'd rather see her on the battlefield rather than in that man's grasp, but she would probably be behind the lines, far away from the guns and bombs. On the while, he and so many others were under the constant threat of having their brain shot out, their limbs torn apart by artillery or mines, their guts may be punched through at any given moment. Who knows, maybe an artillery shell could hit right at his spot right now, just like how they fall at the front so commonly back during the days when he could hear them from the rear line. [color=bf00ff][I]'Wait...'[/I][/color] What did Middleton say about this Hill earlier in his speech? God, he couldn't remember so accurately, due to how aggravating it was trying to dig through the cringy propaganda. What is it about being important? The position? Well, obviously. But what else did he say? [color=bf00ff][I]'Artillery shells...'[/I][/color] That's right! He was talking about how the artillery has been bombarding them for days. But why hasn't Michael found any artillery emplacement? Was it located elsewhere in the hill that he didn't have the chance to cross by? No, that couldn't be right. There couldn't be only one or two guns. He would have to see one. Then... THUNK! A beat in his chest. THUNK! A bang in his eardrum THUNK! A sound in the distance... Instinct brought his eyes up in the dull sky. It was in that very moment that his vision and hearings all coordinated and pointed at the very same thing. In his vision, he saw multiple black dots, looking like harmless birds flying in the sky, but they were definitely unlike birds. Unlike those harmless creatures who just lived freely and uncaring about the pointless and bloody struggles of what we call highly intelligent species as they soar through the sky freely, these things were darting right towards us. And in his hearings, a screech tore through his drums. The dots began to enlarge themselves. When his minds actually process the whole thing... [color=bf00ff][I]'Oh God Almighty...'[/I][/color] He was standing where those bishop faced wanted him to! [color=bf00ff]"Artillery have us zeroed! Take cover!"[/color] This trench couldn't possibly hold if it got hit. Tales of people getting literally buried alive in their own trenches, with some actually dying to it, did not go unheard for a man like Michael. He had to find a stronger ones. Michael dashed right out of the trenches, and instantly, as if a gift, he found the place he needed. A wood planked trench. It definitely wasn't a life insurance, but it'd at least give him slightly better protection than a normal trench. And in a place and time when luck was a major role in whether or not you'd make it back or not, where even an inch of difference could mean life or death, he'd take any chances he can get. He leapt right into the trench just as the first shell landed. BOOM! Its distance was too far to do any damage to him, but unbeknownst to Michael, it blasted two of the soldiers into limbless hulks. During the very short interval, Michael slammed his back onto the wooden plank of the trench as he crumpled himself into a ball, his hand holding onto his helmet. Then the second shell landed. Then third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth? He couldn't even count anymore. Screams amidst the explosions would cut his minds short. Dirt and mud would sometimes slam into his helmet and his body, with probably someone's remains mixed in between. Smells of immeasurable mixtures rushed up his nose, as the sapper struggled to have a breathe to pray so that a shell would not blow him to pieces right now, or that a shell's fragments would not pin itself onto his chest. Four minutes of eternity, it was short yet Michael could feel it. His hands gripping on his chest as an unknown force shook them as if they had inner earthquakes. Would this be the end of the journey? Would he never be able to see mother again? Would he die to a violent flame of hell rather than being shot at by a fellow human being? He could still feel his hands though. His breathe still found its way, even though the smoke filled air had invaded his lungs. He still lives. [color=bf00ff][I]'Please...don't take me away just yet.'[/I][/color] He silently prayed. The hand gripping the chest gently made a small cross. He still had someone to return to. He had his family, his friends, his college, his church. He'd lived well. He didn't want to die just yet. But then it somehow...came through. After a certain sound, there was nothing. Even the sound of the soldiers screaming for their severed legs couldn't be heard. Was everybody dead? Or maybe he should ask himself instead. Did he die and go to hell already? When he got up, it was indeed a scene from hell. Bodies were mangled up everywhere, up and down No Man's Land. Some people didn't even have the chance to express the horror or peace before their demise. That metallic sense once again snuck up his nose along with the smoke from the shells that also obscured his visions. His mind feared the worst. He looked among the bodies, hoping that none of them resembled anyone he knew. So far, they were all strangers. But that doesn't mean they are all alive. With destruction like this, can anybody say it with confidence without concrete evidence? Michael immediately got out of the trench as he headed down the pathway to where the Lance Corporal once stood. What he found wasn't him though, nor his corpse. He probably had escaped. What he found instead was Middleton. He didn't look as if he was expecting this to happen, but the moment he saw the young sapper and his squad insignia, he repeated the order, knowing fully well that he was not present when he said it the first time. So they're leaving this hill? Didn't seem like it though. Waves of fresh faces with clean and uptight uniforms began to flood in. It seemed like his squad had ran out of usefulness in this sector for now - being the pawns in a grand scheme. He had no intention to disobey him, not out of fear but through agreement instead. He wouldn't do any good in a squad outside of his own. And he wouldn't want to stay in this hellhole any longer. And so with his rifle on his left elbow joint, he descended the hill, quickly but he avoided running in general, as much as he wanted to leave this hill. He was carrying a rifle with bayonet, and dozens of equipment, some of which pretty dangerous. He wouldn't want to roll down the hill with them on his body. As he was going down the hill, he saw the man that he was looking for. Jean, the Darcsen Lance Corporal, along with the girl that accompanied him halfway up the hill, also with another one with the same hair color, and presumably the same race, as Jean, whom he hadn't met just yet. He now turned his way toward them, as they arrived at the trench that they had ran up in that same day. [color=bf00ff]"You guys..."[/color] He said as soon as he made his way right next to them, still catching breathes from the descent. It was quick but did not necessarily equate to non-tiring. [color=bf00ff]"You made it through."[/color] Three people in his squad wasn't bad. [@Landaus Five-One][@LetMeDoStuff][@SMS]