War on Fallen Stars

Prologue - A Past Still Present

Reinhardt

The running water coated her hardened hands, the liquid a little too cool to soothe them, as it parted across various scars that ran up her pale but strong arms. The glass that reflected the harsh face in the mirror did so too clearly. Who was she?

"Move it, men! We've dealt with this before!" A voice echoed in her mind. Her voice.

"There are too many of them! Captain, w-what do we do?!" Another desperately sounded out. A private.

It was a cacophony of mayhem and destruction. They were prepared, but the abrupt ambush and violent attacks shook many. The enemy was uncoordinated, but they threw their lives away at shocking ease. It was too much for some in her company, who were mainly used to disaster relief and minor counterterrorism. The aggression had resulted in a variety of uncomfortable close-combat situations, which had left the soldiers on edge and exhausted. Even a Captain such as her couldn't deny the weight she felt; the dust imprinting upon her skin and the enemies blood that slicked her knuckles and palms.

But despite the soldier's unease, they still followed their captain. She wasn't seen as one of the best for nothing, and her undying smile sought out their hearts and commanded them to beat once again. They had hoped she would see them through. Even as their brethren slowly fell behind them and moved their last. Two words had then brought their fall.

"TAKE COVER!" It was a warning in vain, as the company could only flinch before the area seemed to erupt in a blinding inferno - as if they kindled a great volcano.

She could still remember what happened after that. The ringing in her ears, the crimson liquid that ran down her face, the sharp glass and rubble that had collapsed upon her. That wasn't the worst thing. It was the deathly silence. Her voice didn't seem to work, neither did her mouth, or the rest of her body. She felt dead, but wasn't.

Maybe she should have.

She couldn't see them, but knew they were there. Their remains. Maybe one or two still felt the lightest oxygen the scorned air could muster scramble to reach their quickly collapsing lungs. Hoping that the one who guided them through the dark would throw away the rubble, lay her hand out, treat their injuries and bring them home. But those lights grew dimmer and distant, until they were husks with once loved memories trapped within an unending prison. Ashen ground of the broken was scarred and scorched; ensuing rain did nothing to quell the flames. Her rain could not quell the flames of failure that now blazed within.

For the first time, she had failed as a Captain, failed her company, failed her teammates, and failed her friends. There was no smile left, and all that could witness her failure was the gathering smoke and chidden sun.

No matter how many times she washed her hands in that same basin, their blood would not come off. Once she peered up at that cracked mirror after the incident, features of youth and beauty were ruined by rough hardship and a cross scar that displayed itself above her right eye. Eyes of marigold once filled with a passionate fire had been reduced to solemn embers.

Her service soon ended months after the incident, as Japan's Self-Defense Force had lost one of its brightest captains and almost a whole company in one of the worst operations that had occurred since its formation. Captain Raijin - Reinhardt, was gone, and had left a gaping hole in the hearts of its soldiers. A hole that no one dared to fill.