A certainty of conflict began to erupt on this youth's chest, once more he peered at his locket after dabbling with his rifle, remembering what is now just a delightful memory, before anything too sentimental drifted onto consciousness, they were ordered to stand and listen. The Lieutenant began to speak and now was perhaps the first time in the entirety of his journey that he had experienced cruelty. The first week of boot camp was hell, the days following it weren't at all pleasing either. All that training and adjusting was but mere fancy compared to what was said, ushered and spoke today. Murder not only on the enemy hands, but any source of insubordination was to be met with lethal force. Stone faced, Mikael listened intently and his mind drifted onto times of history where such gruesome behavior was displayed, times were all but all needed to be experienced. Mankind had too much blood of their own kin stained on their hands, and today was no other stamp into that history book. The shivers of men and woman alike began to quake onto existence, tears fell of the faces of some men, others stood without as much as a flinch. And Mikael was upon them, although he kept to his devices, he sensed it all. This atmosphere was one of despair and horror, the smell of blood and corpses, the stench of gunpowder and rain. All of this was a scenery of murder and desolate of any hope. All the weight began to now, befall him. He picked his helmet and secured it tightly. Relax... please relax, were the only words he talked to himself to steady his heartbeat. But like warning signs, bellowing an escape, the anxiety started to take over, but a determination and will fought it back. He placed up his hood, and pulled out his rifle.
The battle here would be difficult for a marksman like himself, the is not much distance between him and the enemy, so... got to get to the top of the mountain trail. Best that he stayed behind the group, he'd be a nuisance if he was any close, that way he can protect the rear. Steady movements before- Any thought that continue halted with the command to charge, a barrage of soldiers began to move, along with Mikael himself bodies were already piling up and the count of bodies gowning the trench had started to pile up, blood and water starting to mix and now indistinguishable from puddles. This was but a secular part of the frontlines, this is what Mikael expected, but truthfully he was ill prepared. The sight was horrid, but he needed to move, he needed to numb his senses and move. Any secular mistake could mean the lives of many more on the floor. Besides, if failure happened... he'd rather be dead anyway! He charged behind his teammates, the Lance Corporal was starting to let his inner demons take the best of him, a grit of his teeth. Why? Why was he there struggling? What did he expect? Was this all a joy ride for him, another began to move beyond the team's scope. Another one with the intent to work alone? What does he plan to do? Damn it. Another boy, short help there on his knee body on hand... Teeth began to clench, fist followed after.
Any form of organization was thrown out the window, war was messy, it was unfiltered and raw. Everything he thought and planned about was being thrown out the window and he needed to improvise. Bodies continued to pile up, heads were peering up the trench bullets was what all of them met. There was no time for anything, just needed to keep moving. The Lance Corporal was being motivated to move and so he didn't need to bother with the details of that anymore, if he died then it would only mean he was not prepared and all that hard work would end up in nothing. Think, there was Jean in a stupor acting as if it were the end of the world, which to some extent it was, there was a red-haired individual with the most inscrutable visage on his mien, he seemed to want to play the hero. Then there was another one, darker hair, seemed to be trying to help Jean on his feet, the other Lance Corporal was on that as well. Too many inconveniences, so then with this small amount of space, he pulled out his rifle and knife instead, and moved on ahead, beyond his squad mates. He was proficient enough in close-quarters, so if he met any enemies along the way he needed to use the narrow nature of these trenches to his favor. So he followed the red-haired private of his squad seemingly worried about what he was planning to do. But paving a way too was something he needed to do, and doing it alone would be foolish.