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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 10th - [b]The Thrill[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
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[color=Silver]	For a world where man was dependent on holding on towards one another's throats, Captain Wilhelm Von Harkvald was rather pacifistic whenever his job title didn't require him to go on the opposing agenda. Life was a sacred being to ultimately dictate whether or not the future was forever, or rather soon to be shot down. In reality, there was a lot of stress and sorrow to go through being a deity above the Grim Reaper himself. Most of the time, if not every single one, his eyes never met the ones that he killed. Personally, it was slightly better that way. There was less of a humane incentive towards keeping his enemy alive, no matter how much he wanted to. But for the people of the Imperial Autocracy, it was a foundation he had to commit towards, where each bullet could be the direct derailment of historical progression or submission. Under the title of [i]Green Fox[/i], he was a holy judge, one with the ability to decide within a split second whether or not the phantoms would gain another figure to their population. Every shot was followed by a sacred, and virtuous, ritual of blessing towards the life that he was about to end. It wasn't bittersweet, like most of the sadistic marksmen of the Imperial Army or Federation forces, as it held a true appreciation for the life they must've lived up until that point. Perhaps they were a sacrifice for the bigger picture, or maybe it was duty and destiny that would call the eventual shots for their last breath. Either way, all life was indeed sacred. Every particle of air breathed in and exhaled moments after was all part of one large mechanism in the reality of Europa. As much as Wilhelm hated the feeling of ending another man or woman's life, it was necessary that [i]someone[/i] had to do it in order to protect the others.

	The concepts of killing one to save more was truly a contradiction in his own eyes, even for someone who followed the faith as much as he had. Yggdism was a religion he truly believed in, but he wasn't a blind extremist that shunted out all other similar followings, such as the Cruxian opposition. Even in their holy city, he couldn't help but feel pride in their accomplished sense of community, and truly felt the pains of every Federation or Imperial shell that shocked the once peaceful boundaries of this sacred land. For some aspects, Wilhelm truly did appreciate what the Cruxian faith had offered for the Europan people in comparison to what he'd seen modern Yggdism do, hence why he still followed his contemporary outlook on the Valkyrian faith. If only his own pathway held a prosperous environment hellbent on removing war, rather that joining it as some sort of crusade, it would be ideal for the lasting peace of the lands. Yet, in these trying times, all Wilhelm could think of was being the judgement of lives that were still worth living. He tried not to think of those he killed, about their families or backstories, and was trained to try and see them as faceless soldiers simply out to kill him. His humanity could not stop their personalities from shining, especially when he saw the interactions in their facial expressions...[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"Green Fox, this is Foundation, do you read, over?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He turned his head to the phone box left by his feet, where he lifted the microphone up and placed the quiet headset against his ears. The phone lines were a necessity for Wilhelm to easily communicate with his command and spotters, but the wires required to link the phone lines together were cumbersome and usually prone to damage, cutting the wires and severing communications easily.[/color] [color=Orange][b]"Green Fox, this is Foundation, I say again, do you read me, over?"[/b][/color]

[color=31FF0A][b]"Green Fox to Foundation, loud and clear. Regulate message, over."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Holding the telephone to his mouth, he spoke in clear, formal language in order to ensure an undisturbed mutuality of understanding. The mission was rough and the weather did not hold up any wiser. The night was definitely something to loathe for a marksman like himself, but difficulties came with the job description. He was [i]Green Fox[/i], the infamous marksmen of the people. He did not fight for the glory of his authorities, nor did he wish for appreciation from the Emperor, but instead he sought to look towards those who needed protection: the men, women and children, disabled and old, withered and weak, young and frail, who were dependent on every decision he and the soldiers on the frontlines made. It was his calling, essentially.[/color]

[color=Orange][b]"Spotter T-1-1 has confirmation on Major Oscar Willis, moving to your location at bearing 250 down the main street. Accompanied by two officers, fourteen riflemen, three shocktroopers, a gunner team and one marksman. Can you confirm?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Wilhelm held his tongue, telling the receiver to hold the call for a moment as he waited. In the moonlit avenue before him, the perfect uncovering from darkness on offer, he could see the movement of the supposed targets, roughly 230 metres at the bearing given. It was an easy line from the tower he lay within, the nest of his hunting technique, and the occasional fumes of fire left behind by a previous skirmish gave him some extra leeway on identifying who was who. With his binoculars, he'd scouted out the moving force, scanning who was who, and where each and every one was positioned. They moved with great agility, but with enough silence to mask their approach. As he stared, he could see the two front riflemen fire a single shot down the street, having seen a wandering Imperial scout, potentially working for the other marksman group further north. It was easy for soldiers of that role to get diverted from their routes of patrol, especially considering the Federation soldiers were pocketed around Amone without any formal line of occupation. Wilhelm grimaced at the sight of the poor scout being gunned down, but there was still a sense of understanding as to why the Federation would've done so. They were the enemy, just as the Federation was his. There was no real justification for sympathy on both halves, and most acted out in order to protect the ones they knew. If only Wilhelm could've taken a grey stance and sat out of the war for an eternity, not claiming any lives beforehand. Being a pioneer of the term [i]sniper[/i] didn't help with his wish to remain neutral.

	Having seen the officer in question, being less armed than the former soldiers of his patrol and armed with only a handgun, equally attired with a more formal dressing, Wilhelm re-engaged the phone line again and continued the preparations. They were likely moving as a group to another pocket to prepare for any upcoming offences.[/color]

[color=31FF0A][b]"Confirmation on the target, Major Oscar Willis with his movement. My guess is they're moving documentation to another pocket, Foundation. They are planning something big, but I don't think taking out the Major alone will stop their group from delivering the documents and strategies."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As much as they hated it, Wilhelm was right. Simply shooting the officer would not stop the entire group in the patrol from picking up the documents and continuing with the mission. Even if he wanted to lock down the street with immense gunfire, it was an uneven fight, even for his legendary status of a marksman. Calling in reinforcements would only lead to more unnecessary casualties and could even provoke a larger fight than necessary. It was an hit-list job, not a sabotage to Federation plans. Some things couldn't be stopped, even if he tried his hardest.[/color] [color=31FF0A][b]"Confirm if mission is green, over?"[/b][/color]

[color=Orange][b]"Mission is green and ready, Green Fox. Taking the Major won't stop their mission, but it will deal a crippling blow to their command chain and morale. You know of the Major's status amongst the Amone resistance, we can't have his works continue any more than they have. Execute with extreme prejudice, Captain. Out."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	With a sigh, the phone line was cut short for a second, giving Wilhelm his much needed silence to concentrate. He drew his rifle and aimed it vigorously down the street, pinpointing his target once more. As he lined up the optics to the moonlit Major, he began to speak his rites and passages of religious appreciation. In life, he was a formidable opponent that withstood every beating he took in Amone, but this was his finishing place. He lived as a beacon of hope for the Federation soldiers who'd been trapped here for months, and now he would die as one too. If only war wasn't as cruel as this was. Ensuring that it was clean, Wilhelm pulled the trigger and watched as the bullet dropped the Major in a single stroke. His subordinates quickly panicked, shouting and dragging his body elsewhere as a few shots were let off into random high places, clearly having not traced his round back to his gun. Wilhelm picked up the radio once more and crawled further into the darkness of his tower to conceal his position further.[/color]

[color=31FF0A][b]"Foundation, this is Green Fox. Target is confirmed dead with a cranium shot. Received, over?"[/b][/color]

[color=Orange][b]"Understood; fantastic work, Green Fox. When you're in the clear to move, I've given the promised arrangements to let you and your scouts take some leave at the [i]White Hart[/i] Inn, just as you stated. We'll beacon your morse-man when we need you for the next assignment, but you might have a day or two to relax. Take care, Captain. Foundation out."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	And with that, Wilhelm let out a great sense of exhaling, finally breathing normally as he slowly began to pack up his things. At least for that day, September 10th, he'd be able to devote his time to peace and a lack of fighting in the best neutral zone of Amone...The White Hart Inn.[/color]