850, March 12th, 1:30 pm
Location: Wall Rose, Trost District, Trost Military Head Quarters
"Left! To the left! Mush you fools!" Spy's demeaning voice bounced through the empty corridors of the Trost HQ hallways.
The seven heavy footsteps of the Mercs accompanying Spy's directional calls were the only sounds any of them could hear and that put them all on edge. Every corner and junction they came across almost made them pull the trigger of their weapons. The flickering of torches made them jump and the shadows cast by the stone brick pillars made them jittery. They shouldn't be this fearful but they were outnumbered 1-to-50. There was a small army within these wooden and stone walls yet there was no sign of them. At any point, they could be swarmed by them. They've been outnumbered before, but they normally faced them in open environments. It was uncommon that they encountered a numerically superior foe in close quarters. Such a bitter disadvantage was vocalised by Engineer. "I hate to challenge Scout's position as lead whiner, but did we really have to go this way Spy? Too many corners to get jumped on and we ain't got Sniper's support. We're charging in blind!"
Spy grumbled and cursed under his breath. "Yes, Toy man. Zhis is zhe fastest way to zhe Logistics Wing! Unless you want to take zhe path around zhe base? It's longer. Plenty of time for zhe imbeciles to regroup and counterattack. Oh! I forgot about zhe bombs too! Maybe we still want to be here when zhe building explodes, and we are all engulfed in-"
"FIRE!"
The REDs snapped their heads in surprise at the sound of the call. Down a hallway the group was halfway from crossing past, several Garrison soldiers peeked out from behind doorways and pillars. They were using them to hide. Shortly after the order, the soldiers fired their muckets and service pistols at the REDs. The REDs were forced to split on either side of the hallway entrance. A disadvantage that the Garrison took advantage on. Before the REDs could fire back, the Garrison down the hallway ran back behind their cover. The REDs thought about giving chase but stopped when the doors around them burst open. More Garrison soldiers peeked out with their weapons and fired at them. The much wider Mercs like Soldier and Heavy were struck several times while the more limber ones barely scraped by. Medic was struck, as was Engineer. The REDs desperately fired back. Blowing apart the doors the Garrison came out of but only scored a few kills. The Garrison was retreating just as fast as they appeared. They fired once then ran back into hiding. More doorways open up, which the REDs targeted and shot up before anyone dared to venture through. They then focused on another target appearing out of corners and doorways to fire at them. However, just because they blew and shot up the doorways, doesn't stop the Garrison from peeking back through. Those that were graced with Pyro's flames however weren't so. The doorways, corners and covers close to the REDs were flaming death traps. Unfortunately, Pyro's flames could only reach so far. The doorways and hallway entrances further away from the REDs were full of Garrison soldiers. Each popped off a shot at them before pulling back and being replaced with another soldier ready with a loaded weapon.
Medic was desperately bouncing back cover to cover. Whether that was the walls, pillars or his own teammates, Medic used them all to rush to his allies and heal them of damages. The first set of barrages had Soldier's face blown off and made Heavy more lead than flesh. Medic healed them and turned back around to find Pyro with a gut full of buckshot, Spy with an eye missing, Engineer with a leg wound and Scout with a scraped elbow. He healed them, only to have his work undone a moment later. It was frustrating, maddening, and a little bit worrying. Medic wasn't the odd one out when it came to battle damage. He was being shot too, crying out multiple times when he felt a bullet lodge itself into his body. An even bigger problem was slowly brewing as though wounds on him were increasing. The Garrison must've seen his works and caught on to what he was doing. He was the only thing keeping their opponents alive, and they weren't having it.
Despite the gory work surrounding him and the threat of imminent death, it wasn't all doom and gloom. Engineer's upgrade to his Medi Gun chimed to him that it was fully charged. A sickly grin spread across Medic's face from ear to ear, and he let out a wicked chuckle. He had worked closely with Engineer in building this little upgrade, and he was giddy to try it out. He stared down the hallway, in the direction of the Logistics Wing and where the enemy forces were thick and heavy. He latched his healing beam onto Heavy and aimed his Medi Gun towards the large amount of Garrison soldiers down the hallway. "Heavy! Soldier! Cover us from behind! Pyro! Stand in front of me! Zhe rest! Stand between us! My shield is ready!" Medic cried out his orders.
Everyone but Engineer turned to each other with questioning glances at the mention of his shield but followed Medic's orders. They stepped out into the centre of the hallway just Medic roared "you vill go no furzher!" and activated his Heal Shield. A large red semi-transparent energy shield encompassed the hallway from floor to ceiling. The rectangular sizzled and zapped the surrounding surfaces it touched, leaving scorch marks in its wake. The Garrison soldiers all gulped at the sight of it and started firing at it out of fear. The bullets struck the wall of red light, but the lead was vaporised as it passed through it. Turning the deadly projectiles into dust. All the bullets now threatened to do was make the REDs sneeze. "Push! Burn them Pyro! Burn zhem all! HAHAHA!" Medic heckled as he rushed forward.
The Team shared his sentiments. Following their medic's lead, they laughed in glee at the turning tides and rushed through their enemy. Heavy and Soldier brought up the rear as they fired bullets and rockets at the Garrison troops desperately chasing after them. Meanwhile Pyro burnt a bloody and smoky path down the hallway. The Garrison soldiers wisely retreated. Some were caught up in the fire and the shield. Those whose limbs just grazed the shield were electrified to the point their whole bodies were combusted to ashes. In under three seconds, their bodies were scatted to the winds with their identities with them. The truly unfortunate were then inhaled by Scout. "A-choo! Oh man! This is worse than hay fever! A-choo!" Scout sneezed over and over again.
"Maybe stop breathing through your nose you snivelling fool!" Spy cussed.
Scout was about to comment on how Spy was holding his nose to stop himself too from sneezing when he caught something being thrown at them from behind. "Whoa!" Scout cried out.
He rushed to the back, sliding between Heavy and Soldier with his bat in his hands and swung at the object thrown at them. It looked like one of those old-timey waterskins. Complete with the boiled leather and woollen stitches. It wasn't filled with water though, as Scout found out when he struck it. Whatever was inside, it was heavy and dense. Scout had to put some effort into his swing as he returned it back to its sender. To his joy, he heard screams further down the hallway as the waterskin flew down it. It landed in one of the burning doorways. The flames cooked it and set off the contents within. It exploded in a fiery ball of death. The hallway walls splintered under the sudden pressure and several Garrison soldiers were injured from the result. The rear Mercs looked on with startled stares. "Oh crap! They're throwing explosives at us!" Scout said.
"Shame on you maggots! If my bestie was here, he would've shown you ladies how to make a real explosive!" Soldier roared.
The Garrison's response to the insult was to throw more makeshift explosives. Scout choked at the multiple projectiles and quickly went to work swatting them away from the group. Keeping in lockstep with the REDs, Scout bounced left to right while running back to strike the flying explosives away. No matter how much he swatted away, the Garrison was relentless in throwing more at them. What was worse is that they weren't only throwing them from the back of the group. Ahead of the REDs, the Garrison threw containers full of gunpowder at the Mercs. They seemed to have run out of waterskins and were now throwing small boxes and bins at them. The objects passed harmlessly through the vaporising shield until the Heal Shield started to fizzle out. "It's out! Zhe energy is out!" Medic cried out just as the shield disappeared.
Hearing his cries alerted the Garrison to their predicament. It wasn't long before they started to fire upon them again. The makeshift explosives didn't let up either. Quick on his feet, Pyro switched from flames to air. He air-blasted the bins away from the group. The explosives flew everywhere and spilled their contents. One poor soldier had a bin smacked in their face while another was coated in gunpowder. Foolishly, Pyro saw their enemy covered in the volatile powder and thought it would be a good idea to light them on fire. Never mind that the whole hallway before him was covered in the explosive powder. As soon as his flames licked the gunpowder, the hallway came alight and blew the REDs away. Everyone, from Merc to Garrison soldier, were thrown off their feet and launched well away from the explosive chain reaction. The explosion must've reached where the Garrison was storing their makeshift grenades because the surrounding rooms further down the now-ruined hallway were engulfed in fire.
After the apex of the blast, The REDs slowly rose to their feet. Bruises, open wounds and debris lodged into their bodies were painstakingly removed with Medic's Medi Gun. They ignored the Garrison soldiers in the surrounding rooms and doorways and looked on at the hallway slowly crumbling and burning by the fiery explosion. Not that the Garrison soldiers would prove an issue. All were on the ground; half were writhing in pain and disorientation while the other half were still and unmoving. Spy stepped over one holding their bleeding ears and looked towards their ruined path with a sneer. The beams and columns holding the roof deteriorated and fell onto the ground. The wooden floor itself was warping and making the whole structure unstable. If the Mercs were to continue through it, they would either fall through the ground or have the roof collapse on top of them. Spy huffed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Merde. Long way it is zhen".
850, March 12th, 1:28 pm
Location: Wall Rose, Trost District, Trost Military Head Quarters, Improvised Command Centre
Rico was impressed to see how her fellow Elites rally their forces into making a temporary command centre in what was the mess hall. Soldiers grabbed tables and used them as beds to place the injured down on while others set up equipment and divided up soldiers into squads. Rico found herself pulled to the centre of the room, where six of the mess tables were placed together and flanked by Elites. Whoever had the bright idea to have the complete layout of the HQ spread across the table was a godsend. Everything from storerooms to drainage tunnels big enough to have a human traverse them was displayed in front of her. Just in front of her was the map of the courtyard. A soldier chimed earlier that they lost a quarter of the forces present in that skirmish and another quarter scattered all over the HQ in disarray. That same soldier placed down five pistol cartridges in the centre of the courtyard, signifying their assailants. He placed another cartridge on the other side of the table, near the Medical Wing. "Survivors noticed another member of the Men in Red had broken off from the main group and ventured somewhere underground. We've lost visual contact with him. He's likely either tampering with the supplies stored down there or he's securing an escape route for his allies" the soldier informed.
"We need to cover the underground. All entrances need to be bordered up and secured. Boobytrapped if need be. He hold them on the surface and we whittle them down to nothing" an Elite declared.
An Elite yelled out "We'll surround them and fire on them".
"Really? One got a bullet to the head and was still standing."
"I doubt they could handle a few firing lines"
"We'll trap them and have them pay for all this....this death!"
"Men, we have the advantage here. This is our home! We know this place inside and out!"
"And you don't think they do either? They could've been here for hours or days even" another Elite argued.
"They've been here for an hour or so. Not enough time for them to completely map out the place. Especially if they were disguised as a Cadet. Too many restricted areas" Rico finally spoke.
Everyone turned to her, half looking in question while the other half looking in disbelief. All of them were silent as they waited for her to continue. "It's an open secret by now, but those men out there are responsible for destroying the Exit Gate. They arrived here, beyond the Walls, only a few hours ago. I don't need to remind you all that they're dangerous, but if they had the firepower to blow up the Gate..." Rico let her words hang over their heads for a brief moment. "We can't face them head-on. We need to change tactics..." Rico grew silent as her mind churned for a plan.
"What's the plan then commander?" an Elite hesitantly asked.
Rico Brzenska was now the Acting Garrison Commander of Trost, the position handed to her just as her remaining forces arrived at the mess hall. Ian Dietrich, the Acting Commander for only a few minutes, was injured in the fight in the courtyard. Rico could see the man out of the corner of her eye. Off on the far wall of the mess hall, the field medics tended to Ian. They had successfully stopped the bleeding in his leg. A long bullet, foreign in design, was lounged deep into his leg and struck a major artery. The medics had managed to clot the bleeding and bandage up the nasty wound. Ian would live for now, but he was in no condition to lead his men. The man was deathly pale and his gaze a thousand miles away from here. Trying to talk to him would lead him to speak deliriously and mumble words. It was obvious he was in no condition to move or think, let alone lead the Garrison in a counter-offensive. It only took seconds to decide who was to replace him.
While she and several other Elites ranked under Ian were candidates for the command position, they all voted Rico for the position. Rico was skilled in leading her men, that much was sure. Whether it was gang raids or policing duties, her assigned squadron would always come out victorious and with little-to-no wounds and scratches to show for it. Not to mention that she left a good impression on some of the Elites when she offered sound advice against Weilman's befuddled orders earlier today. In their eyes, she was the perfect person to lead them out of this death trap of a building and to their survival.
A few brief moments of deep thought later, Rico laid out her plan. "Hit and run tactics. That will be our go-to method. He hit them hard, and we ran even harder. We make them confused, we make them hurt. They're already down three men, the rest will soon join them... soon..." Rico's speech fell silent when she saw two Cadets rush to the table.
One was a skinny thing with a shaven head and the other was a tall brunette who was panting and out of breath. Not out of exhaustion but out of fear. "T-they're- They're back! The shapeshifter and the one with the helmet! They're alive!" the bold boy cried out.
Gasps and execrates were thrown around the table. Elites questioned the legitimacy of their statement but the Cadets and several other Garrison soldiers returning from their own scouting ventures reaffirmed their sightings. The shapeshifter and the crazed helmeted madman were alive. There were hushed words about Titan abilities or sorcery at play. Those were soon silenced by the new reports of the Men in Red on the move. The soldier in charge of the icons placed down two more cartridges and moved them to the western interior of the HQ. More men talked about them moving through the interior of the castle, going up to the second floor and being led by the shapeshifter. Rico held off her disbelief of their enemies returning from the dead and reworked their new movements into her plans. Seeing as they had explosives, and all that was separating the courtyard and their escape into the outer world was a stone wall, they could've escaped by now. Instead, they were running back inside. Seeing the direction, they were going, Rico concluded what their plan was. "They're heading to the Logistics Wing. They plan to raid it for anything information they can grab. Checkpoints, troop movements and positions, and temporary FOB locations outside the city" she informed her soldiers.
In other words, targets for them to avoid or destroy. She didn't focus on her men's paling faces, only focusing on the map before her. "Do we have any troops inside the Wing?" Rico asked.
"Yes ma'am, but there are only fifteen soldiers present. They didn't receive Lobov's orders to self-isolate, so they've opened the doors for us" Mitabi informed.
Rico felt solace in that. The other wings just like Medical and the Barracks had closed and barred their doors from them due to Elite Lobov's hasty order to prevent any more Men in Red from infiltrating the base. They were to seal themselves inside the Wings and prevent anyone from entering. Unfortunately, that order was applied to them as well. Unless the bells ceased ringing, a good number of men and women will continue to trap themselves in their respected Wings for the foreseeable future. Rico and the Elites have sent men to try and stop the bells ringing, but they too have barred themselves in the bell towers. They needed someone to traverse up to the top in Vertical Gear to stop them, but reports came back that the Men in Red still had their sniper positioned over the HQ. They've already lost three men trying to fly up to the towers. It was a complete mess, so hearing that an important wing was open to them gave Rico some relief. "Good. Send word to them to burn everything"
Mitabi and the Elites shared a doubletake. "Ma'am? I-I... our reports on the city are being funnelled there! The evacuee lists, troop deployment information, inventory management files, and Titan sightings and locations. If we burn everything, we'll cripple our defence against the Titans!" Mitabi fitfully explained.
Rico looked to him with a dull expression. "You'd rather have that information fall into the hands of our enemies?" she flatly asked.
"N-no ma'am".
"We don't have the time to grab the files and run away. We'll just be chased down and slaughtered. Might as well give them ashes than any leverage against us. Besides... do you really think any one of us here is in any condition to handle the Titan threat after this" Rico grimly asked, looking around at the bodies littering the border of the massive mess hall.
Mitabi followed her line of sight, his expression turning bitter and sombre with each injured soldier he saw. Eventually, he let out a defeated breath and looked back to Rico. "I understand ma'am. I'll... I'll send the order" Mitabi gave her a loose salute and walked away to issue Rico's order.
To her left, an Elite threw his hand up to grab her attention. "Ma'am, I have an idea to slow down the enemy. Give us some time to destroy those documents" he proposed.
Rico gave him a nod to continue. "I'm Elite Mav ma'am, and my squad and I have made these" Mav pulled a waterskin from his belt. "Nothing too fancy. Seeing those bastards using that elongated ordinance gave me the idea to load these skins up with gunpowder. Will throw them at the enemy, fire at it and watch them get a taste of their own medicine!"
An Elite beside him piped up. "You sure the soldiers can hit those? They'll be fired upon when they throw them".
"I'm sure. If not, one of those bastards is using fire as a weapon. If we chuck it at that one, then they'll set it off themselves" Mav strongly assured.
"Forget about hitting the explosives or not, are we really going to have amateurs handle volatile explosives?! Stuffing gunpowder in waterskins and bins?! We'll blow ourselves and the HQ up long before the Men in Red get a whiff of us! Are we really going to take that risk?" Another Elite argued.
Rico turned to the arguing Elite. "You're right to be concerned Gunter, but if killing the Men in Red means taking down a part of the HQ to achieve it, then it's an acceptable sacrifice" Rico turned to Mav. "Take care of your soldiers Mav, and make sure you run when it gets too dangerous"
"Sir!" Mav gave her a crisp salute and run off with several Garrison soldiers in tow, most likely his squad.
With their first counterattack in action, Rico focused on the next few items on the docket. "Donovan and Grettis. Grab your squadrons and armed them with blunderbusses and pistols. Grettis, I want you to cover the major hallways just outside the Logistics Wing. Donovan, you will cover the outside pavilions bordering the castle but stay under the balconies. Menta and Bierhals, I want you to take your squadrons, arm them with ODM blades and head down into the underground. One of the Men in Red made a mistake peeling off from their group. Make them pay for it. After the Logistics burn the records and that Red down in the basement is taken care of, retreat back to the mess hall. Dismissed" Rico ordered.
The four Elites gave her their affirmative before setting for their assigned tasks. Now that she'd planned measures for their prominent issue, Rico decided now was the best time to deal with the bitter planning for the future. "What's the death toll? How many did we lose? How many able-bodied soldiers do we have? Any that can still operate the Vertical Manoeuvring Gear?" Rico asked.
A speckled soldier stepped forward with a small stack of papers in hand. She read them out loud and judging from her paled expression, it wasn't good news. "We had about 800 troops stationed here. 150 Cadets and 650 Garrison soldiers. By our rough estimates, 207 soldiers had been killed in action with 416 injured. A hundred or so are scattered all over the HQ and are refusing orders to follow till the bells stop tolling. Right now, we have 124 abled-bodies soldiers but most of them are Cadets. We've only counted that 58 of them are still able to use ODMs. The rest are injured and unfit to properly operate the ODMs without causing further injuries to themselves or others"
The grim report was felt all across the table. Cold sweat brewed on the Elites' foreheads and colour washed from their faces. "All our forces were cut in half by this attack" an Elite sputtered in pure disbelief.
He just didn't mean the HQ's forces, he meant Trost's forces. As a whole, the Garrison and Cadet forces in the city ranged from 1200 soldiers. 400 Garrison soldiers were scattered across the city with a large majority focused on the rear evacuating civilians, while a small percentage was in the vanguard slowing the Titans down. Rico had heard reports of the Titans breaching the Exit-Gate and casualties dealt to the Vanguard. With the HQ out of commission and a crack shot sniper picking off soldiers from the skies, the supply line aiding the Vanguard was halted. Meaning the forces tasked with stopping the Titans were crippled without fresh blades and a steady stream of fuel, and unable to do their job. Already it had been half an hour since the last resupply went out to the Vanguard. Rico was under no illusion that the Vanguard was still operational. She, and the men and women at the table, knew the Vanguard had fallen, and any hope for re-establishing it and stopping the Titan horde fell along with it as the news of their injured and dead came to them. Rico took a moment to calm herself down and lay out the heavy truth. "Everyone, I'm sorry to say this... but we don't have the numbers to hold the city".
Her words drowned the whole table in a palpable aura of dread and horror. The news made some Elites and soldiers, many of who lived here in Trost, full of scorn and anger. To lose their homes and surrender them to the Titans because of a bunch of insane humans made their hands curl into fists and bring their anger to the boiling point. Despite their steadfast apprehension to leave the city they were sworn to protect, they did not argue with Rico's words. They were already facing near-impossible odds with the forces they once had. Now? With the numbers they currently have, the state of them and the ones they were about to further lose in order to defeat the Men in Red? There was no hope.
The dread was perpetuated by the sounds of fighting above. Echoing off the stone of the castle, the mess hall was privy to the Elite Mav's squadron engaging the Men in Red. Gunfire and screams intermixed in a mess of chaos. The soldiers dreaded to know whether those screams belonged to the Men in Red or their comrades. The fighting grew with intensity as explosions were introduced to the fight. Despite the ruckus above, it did not dissuade Rico from continuing. "We're abandoning HQ and relocating to outside Trost. Once we re-establish a FOB, I want patrols all along the Entry Gate and surrounding Walls, and I want the best soldiers remaining by the Entry-"
A massive explosion rippled through the air and its shockwaves shook the very foundations above them. Dust sprinkled down onto the frozen soldiers. Rico herself was off-put by the massive blast. It was bigger than what the Men in Red produced before. That meant something bad happened to Mav and his squad. "By the Walls, I call it. Walls be damned, I called it..." Gunter whispered to himself in a miserable tone.
Rico and the Elites remained silent, waiting for the combat to pick back up. When they were meant with silence, Rico ordered some troops to investigate what just happened. Moments later, they returned with a bloodied Mav who limbed towards the table. Behind him were several Cadets and field medics rushing to retrieve the injured members of Mav's squad. "Mav! Are you ok? Breath man, breath!" an Elite took Mav and helped him to the table.
Mav looked at Rico with wide and terrified eyes. "M-Ma'am! I-I'm s-s-so sorry! T-Those things! We shot them to pieces b-but!" Mav took a deep breath and wiped the blood pouring down his face. "They healed! They healed themselves! They were like Titans! We shot them to pieces and blew them up, but one of them! One of them healed them! With a beam of light! A beam of red light and poof! They're wounds healed!" Mav fitfully cried.
The news sparked even more of a buzz than before. People were in stunned disbelief. Some vocalised it by shunning Mav's ludicrous claims while a majority believed the Elite's words without question. After what they had seen thus far, a shapeshifter and a man who flew with explosions, it wouldn't be a stretch to believe these men could heal themselves like the Titans. At least that explained how the shapeshifter and the helmet maniac came back from the dead. "What do we do? Do we attack their Napes?" A soldier fitfully asked.
"That explains how one took a bullet to the head and survived" one mumbled.
"Do you think they're related to the Titans in any way?" another pondered aloud.
"That's not all" Mav stopped their exclaims to further inform them of the horrors that happened above. "The same man that healed them created a shield of sorts. A wall of pure light that reached from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. Anything that went through just turned to dust! Bullets, the makeshift grenades, p-p... people. I lost several men to that shield..." Mav held his head low and refused to look anyone in the eye anymore.
"Is that all Mav?" Rico asked candidly.
Some Elites flinched at her blunt way of asking but Rico didn't care. They were in the middle of a battle. There was no time to fluff around and beat around the bush. She, and by extension everyone else, need quick, cut and dry reports.
Mav gave her a weak nod and Rico dismissed him. By the time he left the table, Mitabi had returned. "Ma'am. I've sent the orders; they've started to burn the documents. It'll take some time for them to burn it all without lighting up the whole base" Mitabi said.
Beside him a soldier made themselves known. "Sir! Several of our scouts have seen the Men in Red retreat back into the direction of the courtyard" she yelled clearly.
Rico looked down at the map, watching a soldier move the cartridges back over to the courtyard. "They're going around the base. They've got their Sniper cover back but it gives us time to burn the documents and plan some more attacks" Rico highlighted.
"Not long enough ma'am. By my estimates, Logistics will take at least ten minutes before they burn everything" Mitabi informed.
Then we need to do something about that. Mitabi..."
"Ma'am"
"Get the heavy ordnance ready. Position yourselves outside of Logistics and kill them all"
"Roger that"
850, March 12th, 1:40 pm
Location: Wall Rose, Trost District, Trost Military Head Quarters
If there was one thing the REDs took relief in their detour route, it was that they had Sniper's support again. Parched onto one of the bell towers surrounding the large castle, Sniper was busy living up to his namesake by shooting down any soldier foolish enough to poke their heads out in the open. Such was the case with a few Garrison soldiers atop the pavilions overlooking the open courtyards the REDs were travelling through.
They thought they were sneaky and able to lay down some fire from above. Instead of watching out for their bullets, the REDs had to be mindful of their corpses falling from above. "I have to admit, despite him being a snivelling coward who won't fight a man face-to-face, he's one hell of a crack shot" Soldier praised as he stepped over a recently fallen Garrison trooper.
All the REDs agreed. Sniper was doing such a great job to the point none of them had pulled the trigger of their weapons. For all of their backtracking to their trek through the western courtyards, none of them needed to fight. That quickly changed however when they heard a call to action from above. The windows overlooking the courtyards several stories above shattered as the Garrison soldiers broke them. Glass rained down on the REDs and all across the courtyard. Large barrels were thrown out of them. The REDs cursed and ran back to avoid the falling barrels. Expecting them to be explosives, the REDs struggled to find cover. A barrel landed before Heavy and Medic. It shattered and its contents sprayed over them. To their relief, it wasn't gunpowder or any explosive. A chance to express their relief fell when the pungent stench of oil filled their noises. Heavy gagged and spat out the oil that entered his mouth. Medic did the same, as did the others when more barrels landed around them. The barrels weren't thrown just in their vicinity but all along the stretching courtyard.
Dread started to fill the hearts of the REDs, especially when Pyro mumbled that the oil they were covered in was kerosene, his favourite type of flammable oil. Realising what the Garrison was doing, Engineer screamed at the REDs to run for it. All of them sprinted as hard as they could out of the courtyard. They were halfway from the exit when lit torches flew out of the broken windows. Pyro tried his best to blast some of the torches out as they fell down, but the Garrison threw torches all along the several-meter-long courtyard. There was no way Pyro was getting them all. The torches landed on the oil and lit the whole courtyard on fire. Flames exploded to life and raced all along the courtyard and to the REDs. All of them burst into flames. They screamed and cried as the flames started to cook their flesh and bubble their skin. Despite the surmountable pain they were experiencing, they pushed through it and ran out of the burning courtyard. Disturbingly, the REDs had all built a pain tolerance to flames. It was a given as hanging around Pyro tended to make one burst into flames whenever the pyromaniac willed it.
After a charge through flaming agony, the REDs rushed out of the courtyard into the interior of the HQ. There some rolled on the ground to douse themselves of the flames while others waited impatiently for Medic to heal them. He was busy pointing the Medi Gun at himself and blasting it into his face. His burn wounds and clothes were stitched and sewn back together. Medic tried to heal the rest of his team shortly after his wounds closed but couldn't do so as the Garrison attacked once again. They faced them head-on, but this time the environment was on their side. The REDs were on the bottom of a set of wide stone stairs which the Garrison was atop. Covered by several meter-wide pillars, the Garrison shot around their corners and didn't dare peek their heads out. They were taking blind shots and hoping to hit their targets. Seeing how over a dozen soldiers were firing one after the other, it was safe to say they hit their shots.
The REDs had sparse cover. They hugged the walls as tightly as they could when bullets started flying past and into them. They thought of running away but their exit was blocked by a raging inferno. Some were injured to the point another trek through the fire would kill them for sure. Their only escape was up the stairs. The REDs fired bullets and rockets at the Garrison, but they were behind cover and corners. Their bullets couldn't chew through their cover nor could their explosive splash damage reach them. The REDs had no way of attacking back. "Damn it! I can't hit 'em! If only Demoman were here, he could've bounced his pills off the walls and over the..." Scout's complaining died when he saw Soldier's belt.
He eyed the pristine grenades jingle and clutter together. "Soldier! The grenades! Freakin' use them!" Scout shouted to him.
Soldier looked at Scout dumbfoundingly then down at the grenades attached to his torso. His expression shifted to surprise before simmering to a sombre look. Slowly, even under the hail of gunfire, Soldier placed down his shotgun and rocket launcher and unclasped the grenades from his belt. Soldier turned to his comrades and gave them a heartfelt salute. "It was nice knowing all of yo... it was pleasant-... It-It was... cordial- No...it was alrigh- You know what, I knew you all!" Soldier cried.
He stood up from his cover, getting shot in the process but still standing tall. He a loud cried, he screamed, "For the president; for the flag; and the holy eagle! Charge men!"
Soldier pulled the pins of the grenades and sprinted towards the enemy with his fists in the air and screaming bloody murder. Soldier didn't even touch the first step when he was yanked to the side and back into cover by Heavy. "What are you doing?! You crazy little baby! Trying to die and leave us with mess?! I don't think so!"
"Do not deny me my heroic death, you kremlin sycophant! I was told to use these babies-" Soldier opened his fingers and let the priming levers fly off the grenade, "- by God I'm usin' them!"
Heavy screamed at now-triggered grenades in horror and snatched them from Soldier's hands. He heard Scout shout at him, turning to see the boy holding his bat and telling him to throw it. Heavy quickly did, underthrowing the grenade to him but holding the other. Scout swatted his grenade up the corridor while Heavy held the other out with one hand and flicked it with the other. Both explosives found their intended mark. Scout's hits the back wall on the left and bonks a Garrison soldier on the forehead while Heavy's shoots through the right wall and through another soldier's body. A second ticked by and the cover the Garrison was shooting from exploded. Seeing their chance, the REDs rushed up the stairs to meet their opposition head-on. By the time the Garrison recovered and tried to resume their attack, the REDs had scaled up the stairs and were in melee distance to them.
An order was shouted and the men and women of Trost prepared for close-quarters combat. Fixed bayonet blades, knives and swords were swung and thrust at the REDs. Just like with their firearms, it was outshined spectacularly by the REDs' own equivalent weapons and experience with them. None of the Mercs had military combat training like the Garrison, but what they did have was years of experience in countless battlefields, battle skirmishes, pub brawlers, one on one fist fights, naked wrestling fights, intense dance-offs and day-long conga lines through the desert. In the mists of bloody combat where the winner takes all, those experiences were all that was needed for a victory.
Scout outpaced the Garrison and cave their bones in with his bat. Solider smacked people with his spade or dove on people and ate their noses. Pyro hacked soldiers to pieces. Heavy punched literal craters in people's torsos and launched them into the roof with uppercut after uppercut. Engineer bones and limbs with his wrench. Medic stabbed and sucked the blood out of any unfortunate victim in his path. Spy expertly 'danced' with his opponents, swaying left and right under their swings. Quickly turning invisible at any opportunity and just as quickly decloaking to score a distracted kill. The Garrison didn't stand a chance against madmen like the REDs. Their tactics are too asinine, chaotic and horrible to counter or defend. They were slaughtered in under a minute. By the end of the blood bath, the REDs earnt their namesake by demolishing the whole squadron and painting the hallways red with their blood.
They too were soaked in blood, but maybe due to a side effect of Medic's tampering, the blood on them was instantly soaked by their clothes and skin. Medic himself didn't know the process behind it. He either thought it was their mutated pancreases needing more blood to metamorphosize or it might've been those vampire mites he ordered off of the darker web that mysteriously disappeared.
Regardless of twisted malformed pancreases or a masquerade of mites below their skin, the REDs pushed on to their objective. It seemed as those the Garrison had given up their attacks as the REDs arrived at their location without any more ambushes. All they encounter was a lone Garrison soldier sticking his head out of the door that Spy said led to the Logistics Wing. Once the pale man saw them, he screamed and ran inside. Neither RED fired upon the door, instead choosing to rush to it and bust through. Heavy let out a roar as he shoulder-bashed the large door down off its hinges. Immediately the Mercs were blasted in the face with the smell of burning paper.
The REDs were met with the sight of multiple burning bile of paper beside the multiple large tables. Tables once filled to the brim with papers and vital information were now sparse and practically empty. The REDs saw several Garrison soldiers retreating out of the room through side doors. They were dusted with ashes and soot from their burning. "Leave zhem! Engineer, Heavy, guard the place! Zhe rest! Search zhe place and find anyzhing useful!" Spy hastily ordered.
While Soldier stupidly reached into the fire to grab a handful of burnt ashes in search of vital intel, the rest of the REDs did the sensible thing and searched across the tables. All they could recover were scant letters addressed to the troops on the field, field reports, Titan movements and other useless titbits. Nothing describing the troop numbers in Trost, their positions between here and the Entry-Gate, any bases or outposts outside of Trost or their projected reinforcement numbers. Everything they looked at was either outdated or worthless to them. "Damn nabbit! There ain't nothin' here but two things: jack and shit!" Engineer cursed and stuck a pile of paper.
Scout rolled his eyes. "Great work fellas. We got shot and burnt all for a stack of paperwork. Paperwork's better used as toilet paper! Seriously! I got a freakin' tooth in my eye for this crap!" Scout bemoaned.
"Preach to the choir Scout. All I found were evacuee lists, something about patrol routes, another about evacuee routes and something-something about temporary supply outposts in and outside the city. Yep, utterly useless. I'll just throw it in the fire her-" Every single RED screamed at Solider to stop.
Medic quickly ripped the charred but still legible papers out of Soldier's grasp. "Dummkopf! That's what we're looking for!"
"Partially..." Engineer spoke with a tone of disappointment.
He took a few papers from Medic and handed a few off to Spy, who, along with the Mercs who can read, speed read through the papers at a record pace. Spy hummed to himself. "I zhink I have an idea on how we can escaping zhe city" Spy said as he eyed a document pertaining to the evacuee routes and list.
"What's on your mind?" Medic asked.
Before Spy could answer, there was a commotion just outside the Logistic Wing's walls. Noises of multiple footsteps and heavy equipment being moved. It was coming around the broken doorway the REDs entered from. The REDs quickly rearmed themselves. At the same time, several of them noticed smoke coming out from the other hallways leading out of the wing. Scout peered down one to see violent flames further down them. Fires too powerful for Pyro to snuff out. All of the hallways and exits were like this, except the main door the REDs entered from. It looks like the Garrison was trying to either smoke them out into a kill box or pin them down till the smoke gets them. "I'll tell you all later. When we are outside of the HQ, we'll enact the plan" Spy quickly said as he took the documents out of the Mercs' hands.
With a shimmering noise, he disappeared into thin air. Engineer took command over REDs and silently ordered them to find cover around the doorway. There was no way they weren't going to die from smoke inhalation. They were going to fight their way out! Scout, Soldier and Pyro rushed as fast as they can pass the other side of the doorway. A mistake as the Garrison saw them and opened fire not with muskets but with cannons! "Fire!" a tall, tanned Garrison captain roared.
The crews manning the small mobile falconet cannons open fire on the REDs. Pulling the trigger cords and firing a mix of grapeshot and one-pound rounds of solid iron into the Logistics Wing. The REDs fell to the ground or took cover as tables, pillars, fire pyres and the surrounding walls were blown apart and reduced to dust and chunks of debris. The roof above them groaned and cracked under a lack of support. The fires in the large room grew uncontrollable and threatened to engulf the room. The REDs started to panic. They fired back, striking a few cannons and their crews but were retaliated with a barrage of musket fire. The Garrison held their line firmly. They were not breaking under the hail of bullets, rockets, flammable flares and cleavers. They again fired their cannons. More and more of the Wing was pulverised. Black smoke blanketed the room, fires heated the REDs' skin and the ceiling above cracked and bowed downwards. "Keep firing! Burn them, blast them, let them choke! Don't let them out of that room!" the tanned captain roared through the gunfire.
The REDs were all violently coughing and struggling to aim straight. Medic cried and ducked down to avoid a cannonball going through his skull. Seeing the situation they were in Medic hesitantly readied his Medi Gun. He was hoping he wouldn't have to use its ability till they found a clear path out of the castle but considering they would all die if he doesn't use it now, Medic swallowed his concerns and sought out his favourite comrade. Medic latched the Medi Gun's beam onto Heavy and gave him the signal to charge. The burly man understood and gave Medic a giddy grin. The duo charged out into the open and towards the wrecked doorway. Seeing the two rush the enemy made the remaining REDs smile in excitement and follow them; keeping a good distance between the two, however. What they were about to do would draw everyone's gunfire to them.
The Garrison saw the massive bold RED and the miracle medic running towards them and took action. Muskets and cannons were aimed at them and fired. Before they stuck, Medic screamed "Blitzkrieg!" and activated the ÜberCharge!
Red energy crackled and raced up the beam of red healing energy and into Heavy's systems. Heavy flinched then bellowed when the Über Regulator attached to his heart channelled the powerful energies through his bloodstream. Before the cannonballs and musket shots blanketed Heavy in a thick cloud of smoke and fire, the Garrison saw the man's body tense and his eyes glowed with a bright yellow.
As the munitions exploded on impact, the Garrison firmly believed the brute was dead. When he stepped out of the smoke unharmed, the Garrison was left mortified. His whole body, from the skin to clothes, was covered in a red glossy sheen and glowed an unearthly red. Lightning crackled from his glaring eyes as he stared down the very souls of the Garrison soldiers. What made it all the more horrifying was when the musketeers and a cannon crew fired again at the RED brute, all of it bounced off his body with a loud clang. Like metal striking metal. Heavy rose his minigun at the line of soldiers and screamed out, "I AM BULLETPROOF!"
To the Garrison's credit, their line didn't fold right away when Heavy fired at them. They tried their hardest to fire back Heavy in vain. Pellets, grapeshot and iron balls either bounced harmlessly off him or embed themselves on his person. One cannonball hit him in the face and rolled off with a perfect imprint of his laughing face. Despite their decent pushback, they were slaughtered by Heavy's minigun and his allies. Using him and their Medic as a shield, the other REDs filed out of the burning room and fired at the Garrison. Just in time, the Logistics Wing fell behind them and imploded into a burning mound. Their lines of cannons were partly decimated by the REDs' swift attack, and the soldiers tried to arrange a counterattack. "Musketeers! Proved covering fire and- AAGGHH!" the tanned captain let out a blood-curdling scream as one of his 'soldiers' stabbed him in the back.
Finally, Spy came to aid the REDs, but just as fast as he appeared to help, he vanished again. The Garrison members who witnessed this all screamed and flayed their melee weapons at the empty air around them. Some even shot their muskets and pistols. Now leaderless, the attacking Garrison fell into disarray. Easy pickings for the REDs. Some Garrison soldiers stood their ground and fought to their last breath while a majority ran for their lives. By the time Medic's Über was finished, the Garrison was defeated.
Not waiting for their enemy to regroup and launch another attack, Engineer pressed forward and rallied his teammates to follow him. "Alright fellas, we got what we came here for! Let's get the hell out of here!" he cried to them.
They followed suit, stepping and hopping over the bodies and body parts as they rush to find an exit out of this enemy base.
850, March 12th, 1:55 pm
Location: Wall Rose, Trost District, Trost Military Head Quarters
Fifteen minutes. Armin had spent fifteen minutes running through the Trost HQ carrying a sack weighted at several kilograms with a mad demon behind him. Armin tried his best to evade and lose him. Taking random turns and bends, dipping into rooms and backtracking when safe. All of it in vain as the monster somehow found him again. The mad devil's vicious grin and hungry eyes burned into Armin. Permanently branding his mind with fear whenever he saw his face and his great sword. Caked in the dried blood of his comrades and his friend, scraping harshly on the walls as the demon struggled to get it through the tight corridors and doorways. Then there was the noise it made as it carved up his allies.
Armin ran into several squads when escaping from the demon. Almost always the RED demon was right behind him. Horsed and dry from constant running, Armin tried to warn them. He screamed at them to run but all that came out was a dry croak. A sound that made the devil behind him cackle in laughter. Laughing at his misery!
With his own self-preservation in mind and that of the whole HQ, Armin ran straight past the stunned soldiers and left them to their grizzly fate. It was with a heavy heart that Armin did so. He apologised profusely in his mind and shed a tear in their names. Some managed to snap out of their funk and run away or fight back. Neither survived. The RED devil was too powerful and fast to kill or run away from. The only reason Armin himself was alive was that he tricked the devil by taking random turns and routes. That and putting bodies in between him and the devil.
Despite his already impressive survival time, this song and dance was quickly drawing to a close. Armin had clearly broken through his previous record at the endurance run back at training camp and his body was starting to feel the effects of such a feat. He was sluggish, his legs and ankles burnt and ached, and the sack of explosives felt heavier and heavier. He struggled to make his usual tricks and turns to fool the demon. It was now becoming frequent the noise and feel of the great sword swinging just millimetres near his head. The devil taunted. "Oh~ Is the little girly tired? Why don't ya pop a squat and hand me da bombs laddie!"
Armin grit his teeth and pushed beyond his limits. Just a few more minutes and then he'll enact his plan.
Maybe the devil had a suspension, Armin wouldn't know, but they had been going around in circles for a while now. Armin was nearing the fourth lap and the room he was spying on. It was on the third floor, a story higher than the walls under its window. The walls that bordered the HQ and were near the ruin lot Reiner had planned to dump the bombs. Armin saw it clearly through the window as he passed the first time. In the second lap he accumulated information about the distance from the window to the wall's walkway and the height of the wall itself. The third run was risky as he briefly abandoned the bombs to throw a chair out the window and create an opening for him to jump out of. Yes, Armin was about to jump out of a window.
He would leap out of it and fall a few meters onto the walkway or suffer a three-story drop if he missed his mark. Enough to kill him if he lands wrong but a definite injury if he survived. Only for a few seconds mind, as the devil would surely gut him soon after. Despite the high risk, Armin took that chance. If it meant saving his friends and performing his duty as a soldier, then so be it.
Armin rushed into the room where the broken window resided. Without a moment's hesitation, mainly due to the fact the devil was right on his heels, Armin ran as fast as he could a leapt out. Armin was too exhausted to scream as he sailed over the wide gap between the HQ and the perimeter wall. Armin braced himself as he landed on the walkway. The weight of the bombs caused him to lose balance and fall to the ground. The sack flew out of his arms and rolled before him. The loud clangs and bangs that came from the sack made Armin gasp. He swore the bombs would go off right there and then. Luckily the devil's crafted bombs proved to be sturdy. Even if they were made with chewed candy and nails...
"YYYEEAAAA!" Armin heard the devil scream echoing overhead.
Armin looked up to see the demon fly over his head, the wall and down onto the street below. Unlike Armin, who was worrying about undershooting his target, the devil overshot Armin's position and landed with a loud crack as he impacted the ground. Armin quickly scrambled to his feet and looked down the battlements below. There he saw the devil on his stomach with blood pooling underneath him. Armin foolishly felt a ray of hope in believing the devil had bit the dust. Someone unnatural like that thing in human skin wouldn't just die from a measly fall. No, the demon grungily rose and propped himself onto his elbows. Armin could hear him mumble some incoherent nonsense and he collected himself. Not wanting the demon to recover and resume the case, Armin used the demon's debilitation to his advantage. Armin collected the bombs again and secured them to his person. He processed to climb down the wall, hanging down from the battlements as far as his arms could stretch. He took a deep breath and let go. He braced and managed to keep his balance this time. Not wasting a second to recover, Armin turned and ran to the ruined lot. He heard the devil exclaim something. Armin didn't focus on him, instead putting all of his energy into sprinting.
He cleared the cobbled road surrounding the HQ in record time. When he neared the ruined lot, Armin gave the last bit of strength he had left into his arms. Coming to an abrupt stop and using his momentum to swing the sack over his shoulder, spinning himself around and letting it go flying into the air with a loud cry. Armin fell to the floor out of dizziness and exhaustion. He was on his side panting and gasping for air. He caught sight of the sack coming down in the centre of the ruined lot. Armin gulped air mouthfuls of air and let himself truly feel relief.
He'd done it! He saved the HQ and the Garrison of Trost. He saved his friends and honoured those who fell to save his life. 'Reiner... everyone... I did it' Armin mentally prayed to them.
He felt rapid footsteps approaching from behind. Armin's world fell into a pit of despair and horror as the devil approached him. Armin couldn't do anything to defend himself. He was exhausted and on the ground- practically the worst place to find yourself when facing an enemy. The only thing he could do was hold his breath and pray for salvation. The devil loomed over him but ignored him. He leapt over a stunned Armin and into the ruin lot to retrieve his sack of bombs. Armin looked on, stunned at first then mortified when he realised, he didn't set off the bombs. He didn't think that far. He was too stressed out and focusing just on getting the bombs to the ruined lot to even think about detonating them. How could he even do so without killing himself?! He had no gun to shoot them or the trigger to detonate them. As soon as the devil slung the sack over his shoulder and run back to Armin, Armin knew he did nothing. He didn't save the HQ or the Garrison. He just delayed their deaths. The devil cleared the ruined lot and ran to Armin. Armin thought the demon would finally kill him for his game of cat and mouse. Instead, the demon kicked him in the stomach. "That's for wasting my precious time!" the devil spat and ran off back to HQ.
Armin held his stomach and groaned in pain. He managed to fight through his struggling lungs and the vomit threatening to come out to roll himself over and see the back of the devil. Again, he prayed for a miracle to happen. He hoped his fatigue and pain would suddenly vanish so he could try and stop the devil. He wished the bombs would somehow go off now or the devil falls on his own sword. None of it happened as he neared closer and closer back to the HQ. Instead, one of the devil's allies rammed through the perimeter wall. It was the massive brute. The surrounding wall crumbled around him as he sprinted away from the HQ. After several meters of the wall crumbled, the rest of his allies funnelled through. All seven of them rushed down from the rubble and sprinted as fast as they could after their large comrade. Hot on their tails was the Garrison and Cadet corps. From what Armin could see and hear, it looked to be everyone in the HQ rushing after them with guns and swords.
Losing yet another captain and serval strike forces, the Garrison pulled a hail Mary and charged at the REDs with every single able-bodied soldier. Screw tactics, throw everybody at them till they fold or drown in bodies. Surprisingly, fighting on the stupidity level of the REDs actually worked! With too many soldiers to mow down swarming them with blades and guns, the REDs were forced to turn tail and run.
The RED with the hardhat tried to deploy more of those placements behind him but they took too long to fully deploy. The Garrison jumped on them and hacked them to pieces. Now with a huge horde of soldiers nearing the hundreds were hot on the REDs' heels. "Oh crap!" Armin heard the devil curse.
"Run Demo! Run!" the brute cried out to him.
Instead of following the brute's sound advice, the devil by the name of Demo ran straight to them. To Armin's growing horror, Demo slung the sack off his shoulder and started to spin it around in his hand. "N-no!" Armin cried out.
The damned devil was going to throw the bombs at the crowd. Some of the Garrison soldiers saw him and started to shoot at him. Demo was stuck several times. He didn't even flinch as his body was riddled with bullets. Armin yelled out to shoot the sack or to run away. All of it fell on deaf ears the gunshots masked his voice. With the REDs well away from their enemy, Demo built enough momentum to let go of the sack and have it flying straight to the collected Garrison and Cadets. Armin screamed and reached his hand out as the sack opened and the bombs flew out from it. They arched in the air, reaching the apex of their launch and began their descent back down into the crowd.
Again, Armin cried and begged for hope and the universe answered shockingly. A lone bang from a rifle echoed louder than most and stuck one of the bombs. By that miracle, the bomb, and its surrounding models, exploded in a fiery ball of heated kinetic force, shrapnel and fire. Everyone, from soldiers to RED, was thrown off their feet. The sound and force from the explosion disorientated everyone. Armin felt like his brain was punched and a ball rattled around in his skull. His vision became blurred and struggled to see a few meters in front of him. Not that he could with the thick blanket of black smog that rained down. He blinked and rubbed his eyes to try to alleviate his condition. He managed to stop the rattling in his head but it was replaced with a headache. Through his blurred vision, he saw a shadow of a tall broad figure walk through the smoke. Another few steps and the devil limped out from the smoke. Half of his torso was charred or cut to ribbons by metal shrapnel. Blood flowed freely out from his wounds. Even a grizzly one on his neck was spewing blood like a fountain. His fiery green eye had its flame dimmed to the point Armin could see his remaining eye. He stumbled towards Armin with a glazed-over eye. Unfocused and numb. He stumbled and looked ready to fall and succumb to his wounds.
A ting came from behind Armin, followed by a thunk as a large syringe was shot into his fiery eye. The flame was immediately snuffed out, and Demo's slumped figure snapped up as he registered the pain. "Ah! Bloody hell!" Demo screamed and thrashed about.
Armin would've found joy in the devil's torment if he wasn't left stupefied by the sight of the devil's wounds closing up like a Titan's. His gapping cuts and bleeding gashes kitting themselves together with sinew and muscle. Fresh skin and fat grew from its burnt surroundings and covered Demo's exposed bone and ligaments. However, Armin noticed as soon as the liquid inside the syringe emptied into his body, the healing came to a stop. While the bleeding stopped, he was still badly injured.
Demo yanked the needle out of his eye, blinked and stumbled about. Armin heard a set of footsteps rushing behind him. A man with white skin and a helmet that covered his eyes rushed to Demo's aid. "Come on soldier! Hop to it! That a man!" the helmet RED encouraged as he hooked the devil's arms over his shoulders and carried him off past Armin.
Armin didn't have the strength in him to turn himself over and watch where the REDs retreated off to. He lay there listening and feeling their footsteps disappear off into the city. Like cowards, Armin thought. In some twisted way, they won. They pushed the REDs out of the HQ and he did his duty in trying to save those from a fiery death. As the smoke settled, Armin saw the price for their lacklustre victory.
Disorientated and injured soldiers. Some remained unmoving on the ground, others rolled on the ground in agony and a select few managed to stay on their feet to help their comrades. Armin saw a group of able-bodied soldiers rushing after the REDs with their weapons, but an authoritative voice screamed at them to stop. What she said afterwards fell on Armin's deaf ears, for all of his focus was spent on staring gobbled smack at the sight of the gunman who saved the Garrison and Cadets from a fiery death. Perched atop the edge of the ruined battlements, Reiner Braun knelt with a spent musket in his hands. His shoulder was messily bandaged with his blood-soaked Cadet jacket. His torso, stomach and legs were littered with cuts. His yellow shirt was stained with dirt and blood. He was sporting a black eye with blood dripping out of his ears and nose from the bombs' blast.
His piercing brown eyes held stone-cold rage. Unlike Eren's wild wrath, Reiner's was focused and dangerous. Armin scarily believed it was the same Reiner he knew behind those eyes. The eyes of a killer. They snapped down to Armin's position. They softened only slightly when he saw his prone form. Armin saw him call out to people below. Armin rolled his head down to see some Cadets rushing towards him. Armin believed they were his friends. One had the same hair colour as Sasha and the other was small and blonde. Armin was sure it was Krista. They were talking but Armin couldn't hear a thing. Just mumbling noises.
He felt Sasha hook her hands under his armpits and hoist him up and over her shoulders. Armin had no energy left to look around or feel anything. Staring at the blurred cobbled ground going past made his headache worse, so he closed his eyes. Unconsciousness graced him as soon as his lids closed. He did not fight it. He considered it a reward for doing his duty in trying to save the HQ. He could afford a moment's rest.
He was safe.
A bit of a long gap between updates. I was spending some much-needed time with family and friends. Then there was my internet provider shitting the bed and kneecapping my internet speed to the point I keep timing out on websites. Meaning this should've come out sooner. It's all fixed now.
I will be focusing on my other stories which are in need of updates and new content (The True Free Man and Learning the Ropes) before I resume work on Attack on Fortress. It shouldn't take too long. The chapters for TTFM are halfway done and LTR is almost finished.
If you so wish, support and follow me on my other social media. I do other content like 3D projects, TF2 Blender animations and other shorts, so if you want to see some, follow the link below:
https://linktr.ee/thealamore
Merry late Christmas and a late happy new year!