The vibrations and dull thuds from the explosive shells rivetted throughout the island. The distant pitter patter of gunfire and screaming of sirens was deafened by the stunned silence contained within the metro a small group took refuge in.
Nobody knew what was happening. Armies, fighting free of a flag stormed the shores. Stormed the cities. Stormed the people.
Shadowing the pretty landscape with their thick, heavy armour suits. Tearing the night's peaceful dark with piercing blue visors and drowning the ambience in baisins of radio chatter and waves of synchronising, dehumanised marching.
And the poor people... The poor people who tried to fend them off. Who stopped, for but one day, fighting amongst themselves to react to their new threat.
To the /true/ tyrant. They put up a fight but... Were unsuprisingly overwhelmed.
Another explosion drills vibrations through the metro, dust falls and the lights give an exhausted flicker.
There's three of the ones who tried to halt them down here...
Two spartans and an assassin.... Sharing out rations and teaching the panicked people how to defend themselves.
"... No, put your arm out firm like thi- There you go!"
The well-presented gentleman in the silk hood nods, teaching the people some basic hand-to-hand.
Just incase.
"Thanks, mister!"
He just nods and strolls over to the two spartans, murmuring to the commander.
"You know... These people are not going to last?"
She nods solemnly, pulling her helmet back over her head.
"Not here anyway, Ezio. You need to move them into the service tunnels, keep them hidden."
He cocks his head slightly, frowning.
"It won't help..."
She sighs.
"It gives them time...
He clasps his hands behind his back.
"And that of you two?"
She replies cooly.
"I shouldn't need to say."
Her companion pulls back the bolt of his rifle, nodding to Ezio.
"Good luck, Assassin."
The nod is returned.
"Same to you, I must make haste."
I watched in interest as they went their seperate ways. The hooded man started to round up the refugees... Service tunnels?..
No thanks.
I slowly and quietly tailed behind the two Spartans as they exited the metro, making sure to make even a decibel of sound as I paced. They started to speak.
"What's happening, Ruhe- Ma'am? Is it the blackbloods? Void?"
The commander squinted up at the battle layden sky.
"No... No, he wanted anarchy. His blackbloods were nothing more than Gauls; raiders. No, this is organised. Whoever's in charge, wants a nation left over."
She checks the monitor on her wrist, observing some sort of data or... Battle map maybe.
"We're losing ground... Fast.."
Just as she finishes speaking, bullets whistle past the duo and into the railings just adjacent to them, they instictively dive to the floor.
"004, smoke there!"
