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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 28th - [b]Guardian[/b][/i][/color][/sub]

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[color=Silver]	And as always, the rain started to fall again. If Jean had garnered a Ducat for every time rain had shed itself upon Amone those passing weeks he'd have garnered enough of a fortune to end world poverty. Ever since they'd arrived on the very first frontline, all that had bestowed itself upon them was the plight of heavy downpour. Lakes of mud housing tens of fallen bodies scattered across the fields where artillery shells had once landed. Wooden bridges were constructed so the alive didn't have to wade through the pools with the dead. Here in Amone, things were different. No one could be hidden by the degrade of rainfall. No thing could be censored. If the bodies of the deceased weren't buried in kilograms upon kilograms of brick, foundation, glass and whatever else made up the buildings then everything was simply laid out in the open, ready for the crowd to pick at and the men to walk by. Decaying flesh kept its harsh stench lingering for the months to come. Nothing was safe. Nothing was every safe. Those who came only to avoid the horrors of being a coward were left to wallow in their own suffering as they spied their fallen enemies and comrades, collapsed in pools of blood together. It hurt Jean's stomach to think about it. Some of those within his squad were only 16 or 17 years of age, still classified as minors or children by many laws. They could not go out into the public as a citizen and drink, nor learn to get an automobile test or some sort of high-class job. Instead, they were subjected to the torturous expectations that the Great War was bringing. A scourge of rainfall continued to moisten Jean's steel helmet, forcing it to drench itself once more in the basked glory of the morning peace. Tranquillity didn't come around often, so to make the most out of these next ten minutes was the best Jean could do. He rummaged around his webbing and picked apart a few magazine strips, before sliding a few more into his spare pockets. If he was going to get through this Assault, he'd need all the ammo he could get. Luckily, a lot was on offer. If the large artillery shell had hit a few streets to the right, it could've compromised a large amount of ammunition and limited the fighting capabilities of the Federation liberation advancement. There was no luck though to that. The trade off was the costs of a few hundred lives, many of which were waiting evacuation through the medical system.

	All around the Darcsen was a never-ending hustle and bustle of life. Soldiers were grouped together and making their ways towards the assorted briefing areas. Some introduced themselves to colleagues who were joining them in recognisable locations all across Amone. The Tunnel raiding party would've already dashed past the boundaries of the Federation operating base, beginning their task a little ahead of schedule in order to quickly dive in whenever the main fighting force set their peace aside and charged into the fray. Jean was going to be amongst them. So was everyone. Every able body was called for the job. Whether they were Darcsen or not, male or female, young or old, Private or Sergeant...the total was immeasurable in comparison to what Jean had seen before. At Hill 58, the majority of the forces sent up with him were spread thin or in varied directions, giving off a strange and almost unrecognisable variation of clustering troops. Amone's assault force was roughly three times greater than that of the singular regiment sent up the Hill. A combined arms of mortars, riflemen, machine gunners, shocktroopers, marksmen, sappers, fusiliers, non-commissioned and commissioned officers made their mark together. Some bigged up the advance as something glorious, though Jean was far against such claims. It had the potential to be a bloodbath, and regardless of its victor there would be far more than just spilt innards plastering the pavements and walls. These Imperials were brittle to no one.

	According to unforeseen changes, a new rough plan was made for those entering the area. Information had gotten out towards high-command, Jean unknowingly unaware of Victoria being the provider, about how concentrated the defences were. Whereas the original expectations thought that the Empire would spread themselves along a traditional line, instead they were reliant on smaller concentrations of fortified buildings, key strategic zones, choke-points and bunkers. They were very prepared. Alongside this, speculation as to what fired that grand shell were still up in arms. No one could truly pinpoint what it was, but its rough trajectory was pinpointed last night. Perhaps the army could find its source and for the hell of all things considered shut it down for good. Jean dreaded it being turned against their users, sparking a new age of cataclysmic warfare unlike anything seen before. As if the Great War itself wasn't that already...[/color]

[color=A9FF7D][b]"S-Standing ready, Sir!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]An unprecedented, familiar tone suddenly caught Jean's lonesome ears. His attention quickly turned, seeing an ever-unforgettable, pale and meek face stare up at an equally recognisable man. Jean's interest wasn't just piqued out of its familiarity, but rather its distance. Stood a few metres from his own position, hardly sheltered from the precipitation that doused the wastelands around her, Lucia was overshadowed by the great Captain Middleton. Shivering from the cold nights that had ensued beforehand, separated from the group entirely, Jean felt rather relieved to see her in one piece. A smile brought itself upon his face, as he watched the two discuss something together before turning to Jean. Lucia didn't say anything, only looking away with a slightly stern face, as if the gaze was forced.

	Jean looked up at the familiar Captain, watching his grimace turn into a blend of tiredness, frustration and hopelessness. Of course, he had something to say to Jean and none of them looked forward to it for different reasons. Personally, Jean never liked interacting with the Captain, even as far back as to when he was just a Lieutenant taking the piss out of his Darcsen heritage.[/color]

[color=0AB100][b]"Charpentier..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]With a nudge, he motioned Lucia forward, as if to hand ownership off to Jean. The two shared a glare, one more powerful than the other both physically and systematically. Irregardless of the hierarchy, Jean wasn't too keen on showing him much respect, but had to submit to at least a semi-formal manner in order to maintain the peace before the great assault came forth.[/color] [color=0AB100][b]"Private Farris will be accompanying you under your guidance...[i]Corporal[/i]. Hopefully she will receive relative combat experience but I want to make myself very clear, [i]Corporal[/i]. Anything that happens to her, you will receive ten times worse. Understand?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Jean's throat locked up slightly. For once, this was a new tone for Middleton to express upon the Darcsen. It wasn't that of a booming subjugation, one that would exile all silence and draw the attention of their fellow soldiers. No...he kept his tone low, brandished and sharp like that of his bayonet. In his hands was a revolver of his own, standard issue and ready to be used against the enemy at will. His participation in the battle would be limited to mid-line engagement, never on the frontlines until the main job was cleared by the first few waves. Slowly, Jean cleared his throat and stood firm, allowing himself to retort the answer Middleton wanted to hear, despite both of them knowing there was no guarantee that either would be unscathed.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"I understand, Sir!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Back straight, chin up: Jean kept his face stern and his voice as confident and neutral as humanly possible. Truly, he quivered at the threat inside but he knew that leaving himself too vulnerable was just a catalyst for a disastrous and volcanic eruption from his dear Captain.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"She'll do what she has to, Sir."[/b][/color]

[color=0AB100][b]"I don't need fucking reminding, Darkie. It's bad enough that I'm putting my trust in someone who's kind is about as cultured and superior as my grandfather's shrivelled, decaying testicles, so don't get all snarky with me."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Showing the common agenda against Darcsens again, he leaned closer towards the Corporal and placed a gloved hand against his shoulder, keeping a firm grip against the bones of his blade.[/color] [color=0AB100][b]"It was either you or that pompous fucker from Edinburgh, so I didn't exactly have much of a choice. Anyway...keep her alive or I will kill you. I'm not going to sugar coat it, Corporal. I will fucking murder you. Now get yourself ready, because that Cathedral isn't gonna take itself."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Though mostly unwillingly, Jean saluted to the Captain and watched him leave, abandoning Lucia with the Darcsen once more. A few seconds passed, Jean watching the Captain return to several buildings to set up his own final preparations. Perhaps he was far more busy to really threaten Jean anymore than he already had. Thank god, if so. More seconds passed. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Trickle by, those seconds sure did. Eventually, Jean turned to Lucia, who refused to look up at him before she thrusted forward, wrapping her arms around Jean without uttering a word at first. It took him by surprise, his arms being left hanging in the air above her smaller, frail stature. Her grip was soft yet tightly constricting all at the same time. A million tears were vanquished by herself as she buried her face into his webbing, trying to restrain the sadness of her own self.

	Jean slowly lowered his arms, placing them around her back as she did to him. It was a very familial embrace, one that felt more like...she was him, and that...Jean was Olivia? It felt weird to imagine, but was this the burden of the elder sibling? Well, it wasn't a burden, more of a tribulation. Lucia was in a crisis of her own, one that no one understood. In all honesty, Jean doubted that even Lucia knew what her crisis was or how to solve it. She was weakened in the mind, shattered by unknown months on the frontline without a family to call hers. Much of Lucia's background was unknown still, even to Michael under a certain degree. Her episode away from Jean's squad in the recent week had distraught a lot of minds, removing that innocent comfort that she provided simply by being present.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"H-hey, Lucia. What's up? Are you okay?"[/b][/color] [color=silver]He stammered, trying to see if the hug was beyond a reunion at best. Deep down he wished nothing more than the unifying relief it brought, though whether or not she spilled the word it was obvious that there was more to her disappearance than truly met either of their eyes.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Hey, come on. Look at me-"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Jean moved her out of the hugging position to see her smiling, almost delightfully. She seemed to beam brighter than the missed Summer's contagious glow. Everything she held in that emotion-filled gaze was more than enough to bring a smile to Jean's own too. It was quite remarkable and contagious how one individual had the power to change the heart of a man just like so. Without hesitation, Jean sat himself down on the table he'd been plucking spare ammunition clips from and let her stand close by, the two sharing the moment to grin at one another kindly. Before long, she opened her small and mouse-like jaws to speak outside of her formal disciplinary voice previously heard.[/color]

[color=A9FF7D][b]"I'm so happy to be here to see you, Jean! It's been so lonely without you all around. H-how...is everyone doing?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]A slight tremble of fear came about her voice when trying to force out her question. It was quite the hard thing to ask. Despite the expectations being low of any bad news, considering the group had gone so far recently without more than scratches, bruises and bullet wounds. Yet, even with those odds...the same really couldn't be said about anyone.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"I'm really happy to see you too Lucia...but, uhm. About everyone being okay..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As soon as the tonal shift came about, Lucia's smile began to fade almost immediately. A preemptive change in expectations, right before she found out the actual news to be revealed.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Well...most of us are...average. Lot of pressure going around, and...well...we unfortunately lost Thomas along the way..."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Lucia and Jean stared at one another in silence, before Lucia felt a small tear come trickling down her face. Instantly, she went in for another hug, tighter than before, and let the tears flow from her soft, emerald eyes. Fear had began to settle in again. Whilst Jean imagined it was the genuine shock from hearing of a lost friend, even finding the urge to suppress his own tears that he wanted to cry out, in reality it was a very different reason for Lucia's tears. She didn't want it to happen again. Not again. She couldn't lose everyone. Not out there in the fields of the war. Not leaving her alone and breaking the mental spirits of those who watched over her. Never again. Please...[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"We shouldn't be...sad...though. He wants us to keep smiling, remember? Think about what makes you smile and hold onto that right now."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Another minute passed with Lucia struggling to get a firm grip on her emotions. The dire zero hour drew far closer with every second, giving them less time to really take in the moment. It was indeed a horrible thing to dump onto her in the moment but it had to be said at some point. Jean would've killed to have the ignorance to not know of his fate. Either way, it was rather strange how she hadn't found out. The news of the [b][i]'Marathon's[/i][/b] death spread like wildfire already. Sure enough, the next few days would be flooded in Oceanic newspapers calling out for a memorial in their heroes' namesake.

	Lucia quietly nodded and composed herself, taking in the fresh air that was around her. It was a great idea to do so, as the next few hours would highly likely be filled with gunsmoke, blood and agony. It wasn't going to be long at all. Minutes were counting down. People were beginning to line up and prepare to oust themselves into the unknown depths of a worldly sorrow. Woe was that of the soldier, not of the survivor.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"You'll be coming with me to the Cathedral then?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Lucia quietly nodded, trying her hardest to smile again whilst struggling to do the chinstrap up on her helmet once more. Eventually Jean gave in to the pressure of watching her adorably struggle and helped her out, just like any old big brother would. It crossed his mind that she, for some reason, called him a big brother despite there being no relation outside of their friendship forged in battle. It was quite astonishing to think about. And honestly, it warmed Jean's heart to dare believe.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"It'll be tough and scary, even for me. We'll get through it together, then you can go give Michael a big hug. Besides, Michael will be happy for you to defend the Cathedral, it's the birthplace of his religious motives after all."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]And with that said, she smirked again and chirped like a small fluttering bird, before the duo joined the now formed queue to rush into the underworld beyond Amone's safe boundaries.[/color]