Surviving behind the line (Male reader x Countryhumans)

A Way To Paris

The next day arrived sooner than Y/N had anticipated, bringing with it a sense of exhilaration after the events of the previous night. Despite the chaos he had caused, he felt a surge of confidence coursing through him, as if he were invincible, capable of taking on the entire police force single-handedly. However, he remained cautious, well aware of the potential consequences of his actions, so he thinks.

Carrying his luggage—two large suitcases, one spacious enough to accommodate his rifle and ammunition, along with other essentials—Y/N made his way to the train station. The bustling streets were alive with chatter, the excited voices of passersby mingling with the cries of paper boys, all abuzz with talk of the previous night's attack on the police station. Rumors spread like wildfire, attributing the assault to various groups and linking it to the recent surge in thefts plaguing the town.

Listening to the fearful whispers of the townsfolk, Y/N couldn't help but smirk to himself. Did he have any regrets for his part in the attack? Not in the slightest. After all, he hadn't even taken any lives, and the chaos he had sown would serve his purpose well. As he approached the train station, ready to embark on his next operation, albeit a smaller one this time, he felt a thrill of anticipation coursing through him, eager to see what the day would bring.

Inside the bustling train station, Y/N cast a swift glance around, his eyes locking onto the train he intended to board. However, he knew he had time to spare before its departure—an hour at the very least—and he intended to put it to good use by wreaking havoc on the nearby signal box.

Navigating his way through the station, Y/N located a spacious room designated for storing passengers' luggage. After stashing his own belongings, he set off towards his next target—the signal box. With keen observation earlier, he had noted its proximity to the train station, reassured that he wouldn't waste much time reaching it.

Arriving at the signal box, Y/N swiftly concealed his face with his scarf and retrieved his concealed pistol. He approached the door and delivered a firm knock, ready to strike at a moment's notice. As the door creaked open, he wasted no time, pushing it aside and barging into the room. The train controller stood no chance as Y/N swiftly incapacitated him with two precise strikes to the head—one to knock him down, the other to render him unconscious. Satisfied with the outcome, Y/N pressed on into the signal box, his mission underway.

As Y/N entered the main room of the signal box, a sense of familiarity washed over him. The layout resembled the older signal boxes he had seen in Germany, reminiscent of the ones his father had shown him during his childhood. The large lever bench stretching across the room appeared immaculately maintained, a testament to the meticulous care taken by its operators.

Undeterred by the pristine appearance, Y/N wasted no time in getting to work. He scoured the room until he found the plan tucked away in a cabinet, detailing the arrangement of levers needed to manipulate the signals. With a determined focus, Y/N began to pull each lever as required, confident in his ability to control the train's departure time.

As he worked, Y/N disregarded any concern about the train's premature departure, knowing from his parents' teachings that such actions were common practice among train controllers. After a series of precise manipulations, the signal now displayed a clear "Go," indicating readiness for departure.

With the crucial task accomplished, Y/N turned his attention to causing further disruption. He methodically went about sabotaging every other fitting within reach, employing a mix of deliberate misuse and brute force to render them inoperable. Satisfied with the extent of his handiwork, Y/N made his exit from the signal box, his footsteps echoing against the floor as he stepped over the unconscious train controller, leaving behind a scene of chaos and confusion.