Part I, Chapter I: End Times: The Defence of New Domino City

13/05/1921 1400 hours

Yugo turned his hand over and stared at it. It was glistening with sweat. Small wooden splinters dotted his calloused palm, their presence ripening his pale skin a light shade of pink.

How… how had it come to this?

He forcefully clenched his fingers, balling his hand into a fist. He was shaking uncontrollably. Around him, others seemed to be doing the same thing. Yugo hadn't so much as glanced at any of them. He knew they were there though. It was impossible not to given their proximity.

Packed tightly into the back of a truck, there was little room to manoeuvre and even less room to think. Despite this, he was able to take comfort in the one thing that he and the others around him shared.

They were all here for one reason.

War.

Six months ago, in the far-off lands of the Fusion Islands, a tumultuous period of social unrest had ended with a military coup that had resulted in the appointment of the islands' new leader. His name was Leo Akaba. Almost immediately, he made his intentions clear by declaring war on all the nations of the old federation, vowing to unite them under his sovereign rule. After a month of preparation and rapid rearmament, he set about doing just that.

The Fusion war machine soon swept across the continent, consuming the Xyz Republic and quickly beginning its assault on the Standard Territories. Few in Synchronia paid their progress any mind, however. Amongst the population of New Domino, the nation's capital, there was little worry that the war would ever reach the city's gates. It was simply unthinkable given the distance between them and their enemies. Yugo had held the same naïve view as everyone else: batten down the hatches, ignore it, and it'll go away. Unfortunately, this storm wasn't to be so easily weathered.

Taking a deep breath, Yugo pulled his hand to his chest and held it there for a moment. He nervously unfurled his fingers and felt for the cold buttons on his coat, looking for a distraction. One of them appeared to have come undone. He tried in vain to refasten it, but no amount of fumbling would do the trick.

The vehicle he was sat in wouldn't allow it. Creeping along at a snail's pace, it should have been a smooth and gentle ride, but ever since they had left New Domino City's interior, the state of the roads had ensured the journey to the outskirts was to be anything but pleasant.

Defeated, Yugo shook his head, causing the steel helmet he was wearing to slide and tip forwards, covering his eyes. He quickly readjusted it and leaned backwards, arching his spine over the metal siding of the truck. He tilted his head up and stared off into the sky above.

It was a beautiful spring afternoon, with barely a cloud in sight. Or at least, it would have been, had it not been for the explosions that peppered the sky overhead. These explosions, he had been quick to learn, were the result of anti-aircraft guns attempting (and for the most part failing) to hit their mark. When they reached a certain altitude, the small shells they fired would burst, erupting into thick clouds of fire and smoke. It was a familiar sight back in the city, and one Yugo had very much gotten used to over the past eight weeks.

Of course, originally, he had had very little knowledge of these things. That was, until…

Yugo screwed his eyes shut, his brow furrowing as he recalled the painful memory of the event that had changed his life forever and brought him face-to-face with the realities of a mechanised war.

It had been a normal day just like any other. March 12th, 1921.

He had spent the morning lounging around in bed as he always did, before getting up around midday to open up the garage he ran. Working well into the evening, he spent the last few hours of the day fixing up an old motorbike for a friend, blissfully unaware of what was to come. Once he had finished up with cleaning the exhaust system, he had wheeled it out onto the road outside.

Just as he had left the shop…

…it happened.

Emerging from the clouds as if it had materialised out of thin air, a lone aircraft suddenly appeared in the sky above. It wasn't like the others he had seen in the newspapers. It was larger, much larger.

He remembered its wings more than anything else. Long and black like that of a condor, they seemed to go on forever.

It had only been visible for a brief second, its giant shadow cast against the waning light of a waxing moon, but Yugo had known exactly what it was. He'd only heard rumours of its development, whispers of its killing potential, but it was unmistakable when witnessed from the ground.

A heavy bomber.

…and it wasn't alone. There was a pack of them.

Concealed by the cloud cover, they descended upon the city unseen, their presence detectable only by the dull droning of their engines. Yugo had stood, staring up in wonder as they glided through the darkness effortlessly. Even with the desperate rattle of the flak guns and the wailing of the air raid siren, he had remained rooted to the spot.

Explosions had soon begun to flare up on the streets close by, fire rising high into the sky. Above the shrill whistling of bombs being dropped and the blaring of sirens, screams filled the air.

Before he knew it, he was caught in the shadow of one of these steel titans. He had tried to run, to escape the inevitable, but it was no use. It had dropped its payload almost directly in front of him, the explosions sending his body hurtling across the road and knocking him unconscious.

When he finally awoke, hours later, he still lay beside the street- or what was left of it. It had been completely levelled, the houses on either side either crumbling or set ablaze. It had felt like the end of the world.

Yugo remembered the sight of his house and his precious garage. There had been practically nothing left. Both his home and his work lay in ruins, reduced to nothing but rubble and ash in the space of a few hours. With nowhere else to go and with the government stepping up its recruitment programme in response to the attack, he was forced into military service.

He may not have lost his life that day, but he had lost his home, his work and his freedom… almost everything worth living for.

Almost.

A small smile crept onto Yugo's lips as he opened his eyes, his thoughts turning to the only positive outcome of his ordeal.

His sister, Rin, hadn't been home that night. Thankfully, she had been staying with a friend out of town.

Upon her return, she was forced to enlist like Yugo was. Given her natural talent for engineering however, a talent that greatly surpassed Yugo's, she was quickly transferred to the Engineering Corps. Yugo on the other hand had to settle for joining up with the Infantry's 9th Division.

Rin would almost definitely still see action, but much less of it. Had she been forced to stick with the infantry, she would have been on her way to where Yugo was headed right now- the frontline.

"You think this is funny?"

The question cut through the uneasy silence in the back of the truck, hanging uncomfortably in the air, all eyes snapping towards its point of origin. His train of thought broken, Yugo blinked away his memories and quickly turned his head too.

Opposite him, a man with dark skin and dull grey eyes was staring at him expectantly. His hair was a dark pink and his earlobes appeared to be unusually long. Like everyone else in the back of the truck, he wore the standard uniform of the Synchro army, a navy-blue trench coat and tunic accompanied by a pair of light-grey trousers and black boots.

"I asked you a question," the man said, unslinging the rifle from his shoulder and slamming its butt into the bed of the truck. "Is what's happening here a joke to you?" He grasped its muzzle with both hands and leaned on it, awaiting an answer.

"Of course it's not funny," Yugo snapped back, his temper getting the better of him.

"Then why were you smiling?"

"Why should I tell you? It's none of your damn business."

Yugo just wanted to sit quietly and be left to his thoughts for the rest of the journey. He knew what was ahead and what was at stake. He wanted to use this time to try to come to terms with what was going to be asked of him, what he was expected to give in the line of duty. He had spent the eight weeks since he had been forced to join up going through basic training, so he'd hardly had a minute to process the reality of what he was actually being prepared for.

"I just thought I'd ask," the man replied wryly, "seen as we're all going to be dead soon anyway."

There was a muttering amongst the other recruits in the truck. Some shut their eyes and gripped their rifles in quiet dismay. Yugo took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He wasn't optimistic about his chances. Although he had no idea how the war was being fought and what it was like on the frontline, he knew just from his own experience that it was unlike any conflict of the past. His brief encounter with the Fusion bombers had taught him that. He was afraid to die, of course, but… this fear hadn't yet been realised. His (complete) combat inexperience, for now, had wrapped him in a bubble of blissful ignorance.

"Why do you think they want us new recruits so soon, ey? We're being slaughtered out there." The man directed his observation at Yugo, but he ignored it, shaking his head and focusing on the bumps in the road.

"You know it's-"

"Damon, that's enough."

An older man sat beside him was quick to interrupt. He looked apologetically at Yugo.

"I'm sorry about my friend here, he's something of a fatalist. He doesn't actually know what it's like out there." The one he referred to as a Damon huffed and crossed his arms.

"It's okay," Yugo replied. He relaxed a little at the older man's friendlier tone.

"He's right about one thing though, kid. It's awfully strange of command to be sending recruits to the frontline with so little training, especially in small groups like this. They must be pretty desperate for men out there."

"Is that why you're here?" Yugo asked tentatively.

"Damon and I trained with the 3rd Battalion before they sent us here to the 4th." The man laughed heartily. "Even old ex-soldiers like me can't escape the draft anymore. No-one can." He leaned closer to Yugo. "Look around you."

Yugo glanced to his left and then to his right. He took in the small sea of faces around him. They were a motley bunch, a roughly even split of men and women that varied in almost every way, the only real unifying factor being their relatively young age (and of course their uniforms). They all held the same sombre expression.

"It seems they'll take whoever they can find these days, wouldn't you say?"

Yugo nodded in response. He wasn't about to explain his situation and the reason for him being here. Although, if what the man was saying was true, it was likely he would have found himself in the army sooner rather than later.

"I'm Chojiro by the way." The man extended his hand. "Chojiro Tokumatsu."

Yugo shook it hesitantly.

"I'm Yugo."

There were a few gasps towards the back of the truck. Chojiro looked a little taken aback. A muttering soon sprang up amongst the other recruits. Yugo cursed himself for saying it so loudly. It wasn't his fault his name sounded so much like the word 'fusion'. He grabbed the railing above him and tried to stand, but was forced to sit by the rocking of the truck. Instead, he leaned forwards and shouted so everyone could hear.

"IT'S YUGO, OKAY? YU-GO."

The rest of the journey was quiet after that, with Yugo's outburst apparently warding off any further attempts at conversation.

Eventually, after half an hour or so, the truck came to an abrupt halt. Those who had been staring absentmindedly at the floor were jolted awake. Everyone looked around, confused, wondering if this was indeed their final destination. Yugo swallowed hard as he picked his head up and took in the landscape before him.

Scarred and desolate, it was a depressing sea of brown and black, a wasteland by any description. In the very distance he could make out what looked like a literal wall of barbed wire, but it was what was directly in front of him that drew his immediate attention. Cut into the earth like some sort of oversized ant farm, was what appeared to be an enormous network of trenches and tunnels. It looked as if it went on for miles in every direction, each trench zigzagging left and right, the terrain bending to the will of this intricately weaved web. Pillboxes and dugouts of varying size were scattered throughout, their presence defined only by the small mounds of earth piled on top of them. In amongst the straighter channels, closer to the wall of wire, Yugo could see hundreds of soldiers milling around, the tops of their helmets only just stopping short of the trench's parapet.

"Everybody off!" came a loud shout from behind the truck. Everyone quickly attempted to clamber off, stepping over one another in a rush to see where they would be heading. Yugo tightened the belt around his waist that held his pack and a few pockets of ammunition. Grabbing his gas mask from beside him, he slung his rifle's strap over his shoulder and made for the back of the truck. After waiting for the others to finish disembarking, he jumped down onto the sun-baked earth below. There was a man waiting impatiently, pencil and notebook in hand.

"Only ten of you?" he asked rhetorically, scribbling away on the paper. "Atlas isn't going to be happy."

Yugo paid the man's comments little mind. He was too busy staring at the trenches before him. He could hear the faint sound of rifles being discharged in the distance, along with the light rumbling of shells detonating somewhere along the line.

This didn't seem so bad, he thought to himself. He wondered if Rin was fairing any better, or worse, wherever she was. He made a mental note to send her a letter as soon as possible.

"Alright, follow me!" the man shouted to the group, turning and quickly stepping towards what appeared to be a makeshift entrance to the first line of trenches.

"Wait!" the one named Damon yelled after him, the whole group breaking into a light jog to catch up. "Is this it? Is this the battlefield?"

"Where else would we be?" The man led Yugo and the others down a slope flanked by a few corrugated sheets of metal before turning a corner.

"But where are all the guns… and our tanks?" Damon asked frantically.

Their guide (and driver) led them deeper through the network of trenches, the walls quickly changing from dirt to a combination of old plywood and sandbags.

"We passed our last artillery battery ten klicks back, about an hour ago… and we haven't had tanks up this side of the line for the past month. If you have any more questions wait until you've been assigned to your platoons."

After passing along an angled channel that was busy with messengers and couriers, Yugo and the group found themselves being led through another trench that was filled with soldiers talking and smoking. Eventually coming to a set of stairs, they were led downward into a small, well-fortified dugout. Yugo was the first to enter. He was ushered in by the man who had driven them here and told to stand to attention.

The room he had entered was uncomfortably quiet. The only noise to be heard was the light tapping of the telephone operator in the far corner, the man's fingers working furiously to send some sort of message along the line, presumably in Morse code. Aside from the operator, the dugout had two other occupants. One, a man with spiky orange hair and welcoming grey eyes, stood leaning against the far wall, his arms folded. The other stood by a round wooden table in the centre of the room, inspecting what appeared to be a map. He was tall and thin with pointed blonde hair, his uniform a pristine white and blue.

Once the group had lined up in two rows of five, with Yugo at the very front, the man with the blonde hair looked up from his map. His mouth was set into an irritated scowl, his purple eyes burning with unwarranted indignation.

"Are these the replacements?" he asked curtly, directing his question at their driver. His voice was loud and fiery. The driver nodded timidly. With a wave of his hand, the blonde man dismissed him.

Replacements. Yugo felt deeply unsettled by that word. He'd be filling a dead man's boots… How long would it be before someone was doing the same to him?

The man sauntered around the table and stood directly in front of the group. "Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once." Yugo composed himself and straightened up his posture. "My name is Jack Atlas and I'm the Captain of A Company. This part of the line you're standing in now belongs to me, as do all of you." He began to pace back and forth, eyeing up each individual as he went. "For those of you wondering why you're here… well, that's simple. Those that came before you, the men and women who died in our glorious push for victory, were weak." There was a number of gasps as the Captain balled a fist and punched at his own palm. "They lacked the strength to get the job done, and it has cost us dearly. I expect you all, as privates under my command, to show a little more backbone, to be strong and fearless, and above all, to demonstrate to the world the true power of the Synchro people."

He began to walk amongst them, inspecting their uniforms and stopping to read their expressions. Yugo watched as he eventually came to a stop… directly in front of him.

"What's your name boy?" Jack asked, staring him down.

Yugo swallowed nervously. He'd already been through this once today.

"Private... Yugo, Sir."

Jack stared at him with a stony expression, before suddenly bursting into laughter.

"You have to be joking?" he cried, laughing right in Yugo's face. "Yūgō? Shouldn't you be fighting for the other side?"

"It's Yu-go, Sir." Yugo bit his tongue, trying to suppress his temper.

Jack's grin quickly twisted into a frown. "Alright then, Yu-go, tell me, why are you here?"

The answer was apparent after his little speech, but Yugo found himself struggling to come up with the correct response. He actually had a number of reasons for being here, one of which he hadn't quite come to terms with.

Revenge.

He didn't want to admit to it, but ever since that fateful day eight weeks ago, he had wanted nothing more than to make someone pay for destroying his home and his livelihood. Part of him was glad that he had been forced into military service. It gave him the opportunity to take the vengeance he sought after…

…but at what cost? His morals? His humanity? His life?

"I'm here to defend our city and kill Fusion soldiers, Sir," Yugo answered, the unequivocal nature of his own remark taking him by surprise.

"Ah! The kid's got fire! I like that," Jack grinned back at him. "However…" His expression changed in an instant, his smile quickly fading into a judgmental frown. He grabbed Yugo by the collar and looked him dead in the eye. Yugo resisted the urge to struggle.

"That isn't just what this is about. War is a clash of souls as well as steel, we respect our enemy, even if they don't respect us." He gripped Yugo's collar tightly. "It's a showcase of our strength, but also of our integrity. Did you not hear-"

"Alright Jack that's enough for one day, don't you think? Leave him be." The interruption came from the back of the room, the man with the orange hair speaking up.

"That's Captain Atlas to you, Crow." Releasing his hold on Yugo's collar, Jack span around and grunted. "And last time I checked, I'm the one in charge here."

Crow appeared to roll his eyes, which only seemed to anger him more. He turned back towards Yugo. "Alright Yu-go, seen as Lieutenant Hogan over there thinks he knows better than I do, he's going to be your platoon leader from now on." Crow smiled at Yugo, visibly irritating him further. "And there should be plenty of time for you two to get to know each other tonight, because I have a very special mission for yourself and a lucky few in 2nd Platoon."

Crow's face dropped. "You don't mean…"

"You know exactly what I mean, Lieutenant." The Captain's smirk grew wider. He let go of Yugo and straightened his collar out. "And young Yugo here is going to play a big part in accomplishing this mission."

"Jack you can't, he only just got here. It's way too dangerous!"

"Nonsense. This will be a great opportunity for him to gain some valuable experience and learn what it means to be a soldier, under your tutelage of course."

Crow tried to protest further, but he was shut down by Jack's stern voice. "I want twelve men, including yourself and Yugo, ready to go at 0100 hours. You'll get further details at 1900. As for the rest of you recruits, go and wait in the support trench, you'll be assigned to your platoons in due course." He nonchalantly waved his hand. "You're all dismissed."

Yugo wasn't sure what was happening. He had no idea what he'd just been signed up for. Some kind of special mission? Whatever it was, Crow hadn't been pleased about his upcoming participation in it.

As the rest of the recruits were filing out, Crow came forward and took Yugo by the arm. He pulled him up the steps and out of the dugout, into the nearby support trench. He stopped once they were out of earshot. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry man. I really am. That bastard's always been like this, but he's gone too far this time…"

"It's okay, it's fine." Yugo didn't know what else to say. He was still very confused.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

Crow shut his eyes and dragged a hand over his face. "Fuck…" he whispered, his voice laced with frustration.

"What? What is it?"

Shaking his head once more, he took a deep breath. "It's nothing Yugo, it's fine. Don't worry yourself about it." He smiled tentatively, although it was evident in his expression that he was unsettled by something. "You're under my wing now anyway, so I'll make sure you're safe out there…" He gestured towards the angled trench he had passed through earlier. "Let's go and meet the rest of 2nd Platoon."

Yugo was appreciative of Crow's friendly tone, but he wanted to know more about what was happening tonight. He held his tongue and followed him anyway. After a short walk, they turned a few corners, coming out into another, much more damaged trench topped by barbed wire.

"I'm Lieutenant Crow Hogan by the way, if you didn't catch it before. I lead 2nd Platoon."

Yugo wasn't really listening. He could smell something awful and it was making him feel a little sick. Every few breaths he could smell it, a mix of filth and rotten meat. It was a putrid stench that had him almost gagging as they came to a tiny dugout in the wall, a few men huddled inside playing cards.

"Shinji." Crow greeted one of the men with a slap on the back, before turning to Yugo. "This is Yugo. He'll be part of your section from today. He's new so be patient with him, okay?"

The man named Shinji climbed out of the hole and smiled. "Sure thing Crow, we are down a man after all."

"Yugo, this will be your Section Commander, Lance Corporal Shinji Weber."

Yugo reached out a hand, which Shinji eagerly shook.

"The hands of working man, I like it. You'll fit in nicely around here."

Yugo nodded impatiently. He wanted answers more than anything right now. He'd met too many people today and been given too few answers.

Just as he was about to ask about what was happening tonight, Crow nodded at Shinji in an attempt to catch his attention.

"Shinji, can I have word?" he asked, his voice a little quieter now.

Shinji nodded and followed him a bit further down the trench before coming to a stop. Yugo could see them talking from where he stood. Crow had his head in his hands and Shinji was shaking his fist furiously. They were speaking quietly, but he could hear them both swearing and cursing nonetheless.

Yugo had had enough. He ran over to them, his boots clacking loudly on the duckboards underfoot.

"Please tell me what's going on," he pleaded, "I have no idea what's happening. What's this mission the Captain was talking about?"

Shinji and Crow glanced at each other nervously. They looked forlorn, as if something terrible had happened, or was about to. Shinji nodded hesitantly at Crow, who turned to Yugo.

"Like I said I'm sorry, but… there's only one thing it could be."

"What?!"

"A trench raid."