M.I.A

Prologue - Dbl. L

Winds howl like starved animals, soaring past soaked and muddy soldiers trying to scale the even muddier hills of Yuhnzillon. Astallion was nothing like this at all. It had tall, bright grasses waving in the wind like kelp, seagulls perched on the steep, rocky cliffs of Schutz, and glittering lakes filled with fish that could only be conjured from dreams. But, this wasn't Astallion, after all. It was a dark and dreary country with no light, happiness, or security. Every single step, you were on edge.

In the darkness, a strained voice cuts through the rain and thunder, connecting to the ears of his comrades. "Push forward! We don't go home until we get what we came for!" An end. They came for an end to this gruesome war. Both sides knew they were running low on assets, but they didn't stop for that. They wouldn't stop at all. Not until one of them won.

"Sergeant Major!" There's a second voice, a young male's. His vocals are just as tired as the first's.

Sergeant Major Barlowe whips his head around, glaring past the freezing rain. "What is it, Corporal?" He bellows over the lightning, hoarse. Continuing to drag his legs through the thick mud while waiting for a response, he calls out again. "Double L, what is the matter?!" He's louder this time, paying no mind to the fact that Yuhn soldiers could be stalking them from the trees.

"Sir! We're down fifty more men! We won't make it to the citadel with more than ten! If we don't turn tail now, nobody will make it back!" The Corporal looks behind him at the exhausted soldiers, many of them ready to collapse. The Yuhn were smart when it came to where to build their citadel. "Sir, we have to go back!"

Barlowe knits his brow together and thinks hard. "Negative. We're obligated to back up Private Wessex. There won't be another man of his caliber in the next hundred years. As much as I hate to say it, I can't deny that he is the key to winning this war."

Double L scoffs and starts to turn for the coast. "Fall back! Wessex can handle his own!" Insubordination is just a word. Soldier is just a title. Corporal is just a decoration. Life is a treasure. Sacrificing an entire unit was not worth it for the slim chance of finding a crack in Yuhnzika's artillery. He could handle a meeting with General Sherwood.

"Corporal! You are to obey my orders! We stay until Wessex returns unharmed!" Major Barlowe stops where he is so that he can turn and hold eye contact with every remaining soldier following suit. Nobody moves forward. They take a step back. "Corporal! This is insubordination! If you want to—"

Silence. Everyone freezes. Barlowe's eyes go wide, and his body leans forward until it falls over, sliding down the muddy hill. The Yuhn had found them. With one click from a sniper, the Sergeant Major was killed.

Instincts kick in, and Double L takes charge. "Everybody stand still." Double L averts his eyes from the Major, doing his best to remain calm so he can get his men out alive. As long as they were quiet, they'd be okay. Covered in mud and leaves, they might be able to sneak back to the coast. Barlowe stuck out because of how loud he was, and the fact that the gun in his hand was a shiny silver, reflecting the moonlight. The Corporal raises a hand behind his back and gestures for his men to move. They carefully shuffled down the hill in perfect sync, holding onto anything loose that might make a sound.

Rack! K-lick! Another shot. It doesn't hit anyone this time. Voices grow louder as the Yuhn soldiers move closer, slowly closing in on the vulnerable group. They were dead as soon as they stepped foot on the shore. Wessex wasn't very far ahead of them, had he been shot too? He couldn't have. The shot that hit Barlowe was the only one fired since they got here.

Mud splatters and ammunition rattles against firearms. If they kept up this pace, they'd be found before they touched sand. "Run for it. Go." Double L looks back at the men who were scared beyond anything he'd seen. "Run!" He shouts, ignoring the way his throat protests against the sudden volume. His knees bend and he stumbles a moment before he jolts forward, grabbing the arms of frozen soldiers and pulling them down the hill with him.

"Sie sind hier! Schnappt sie!" They're here! Catch them! He recognizes the foreign words. They know where to go.

"Pick up your feet, men! You run or you die! That's it!" Even if it meant not seeing his family again, Double L would rather his men live than him. They couldn't all make it. He knew that. "Don't think about anything other than running! That's an order!"

They run. They do nothing but run. They don't know how long they run, but the moonlit waters of Abgrund come into view eventually, and the boats they took here are still rocking against the rough sands. Maybe all of them had a chance. Well, except for Wessex. He'd have to be reported as M.I.A until further notice.

Turning back to the present, the Corporal lunges for the boat, flicking switches and yanking the ignition lever. He looks over his shoulder to make sure everyone else has hopped in, and once he confirms that everyone (minus Wessex) was accounted for, he gives the last switch a rough yank. Behind him, someone leans back and turns on the motor. The boat jerks forward harshly, knocking the breath out of some of the others. "Hang on to your hats, boys," He pauses. "That's not a joke. Duck down and don't leave yourself unguarded."

He hears the rustle of guns and clothing behind him, and he knows that they've all crouched below the reinforced walls of the seacraft. Gunshots are drowned out behind them. They made it.

For now, at least.