You silently signaled to your unit that enemies were ahead, stopping them dead in their tracks. Your objective was to retake Kalm. After destruction by Omega had been averted, a large group of Deepground members had managed to lay claim on the area once again, endangering the citizens.
Looking back out at the soldiers ahead, you saw your chance giving the signal to take aim. Your soldiers did as ordered and aimed at the opposing forces, but before any of you could shoot, three loud cracks rang through everyone's ears. Dead on the ground lay three soldiers, luckily of the opposition. You feared a subordinate had fired too early, exposing the entire group, but that was not the case, as the Deepground soldiers looked up and to the right. You took the chance, signaling to fire at the enemies before returning your hand to your rifle and blasting a few yourself. Within minutes, they were overtaken and destroyed, leaving the area open for you to move forward.
As you moved up, a shadow fell across the ground about twenty yards in front of you, causing you to look up. A man clad in red and black was falling, no, he had jumped, from atop a nearby building. Upon his landing, you knew who he was. Vincent Valentine, the man who defeated Omega. The man who had saved the world. Of course you idolized him, he was absolutely amazing, the perfect soldier, and you could nearly guarantee that the rest of your troops felt the same.
He only slightly nodded in your direction, reminding you of the task at hand. "We aren't done yet!" you shouted to them, "The road splits ahead! Split in half! Gilcrest is in charge!" You pointed in the other direction and a soldier stepped out, William Gilcrest, taking the lead in the direction you stated. Half the group followed him.
"Alright men, let's move!" You took the lead, heading down the other passage and when you looked back, Mr. Valentine seemed to have disappeared. He had probably gone back up to the rooftops to keep an eye on things. You had wondered why there hadn't been any problems with snipers. He must have taken care of them.
Shouting ahead snapped you out of thought. The unit was spotted and as shots were fired, everyone took cover. You heard a cry of pain next to you as one of your soldiers was hit. "Dammit!" you muttered. No one would survive if everyone just hid. "Fire at will! Take them out quickly!" Almost instantaneously, your side began to fight back, killing off members of Deepground but also losing a few as well. The shootout continued for nearly twenty minutes but ended with at least four of your comrades dead. This cut your already half-split group down to six, a number that hopefully wouldn't be changing for the worse.
You took a look at the gore and clenched your fists. The dead had to wait but they would be given proper funerals. "Just ahead," you reassured the men, "If we can get through there we will make it to the center of town, where most of the remaining Deepground forces will be hiding. We will have to be careful. It is very possible that they could have hostages. Let's move in and pray the other units make it there near the same time!" They all looked shaken but when you turned around to keep going, they loyally followed along to clear the debris that had been stacked up to form a block. Soon, you and your men had made a hole in the pile just large enough to walk through and quietly entered the alley leading to the center of town.
At the end of the alley, you peeked around the corner. Shit. Soldiers were everywhere. You would never be able to get around them. Fortunately enough for your small group, gunshots rang out from across the town center, catching the attention of the enemy forces. For just a couple minutes, your men might have been free to move, but you reacted too late. You were trapped. The gunshots got louder and multiplied as you contemplated what to do. It seemed like more of the WRO troops were closing in on the area and joining the fight. It was as good a time as any to do the same. Getting the attention of the allies nearby, you had them get ready, and once ready and aimed from the shadows, you had them shoot, taking out as many of the Deepground troops as possible. The shots firing from nearly all sides seemed to take them by surprise.
Bullet after bullet was fired, causing a loud ringing in your ears. You quickly emptied three magazines, which wouldn't have been a problem if you had happened to have more. Fuck. The alley would be flooded with Deepground in minutes if they couldn't be held back. A tap on your shoulder made you jump but you turned to see one of your men sitting in front of more loaded magazines than it seemed he could carry. "I pulled 'em off the dead soldiers, ma'am. I didn't figure they'd have much use for 'em now," he explained, almost as if he was unsure if what he did was right. "Plunkett," you said, looking him in the eye, "That was a great idea. You're in charge of this ammo. Make sure it gets to the people who need it. I'll take two of them now."
He brightened up a bit, obviously feeling better about not having done something wrong and handed you the two magazines before walking off, crouched down, to supply the others. You reloaded the gun and continued shooting. It was annoying as hell because the damn enemies just kept coming. Their forces were surrounded but there were just so many of them. More shots rang out and you began to see the number of soldiers falling dead increase rapidly. The shots came from the tower in the middle of town where a crimson cloak gave away the identity of the shooter. The Deepground soldiers were so preoccupied with the attacks from the outside that they hadn't even noticed him right in the middle of everything. How he got through them all to get up there was a mystery though. Either way, he was causing a large amount of soldiers to drop dead. The battle lasted for about an hour before the last soldiers were shot.
WRO troops took control of the area and soldiers were stationed around the city to stand guard. You stood and approached Vincent to thank him for his help with the battle, but before you made it there, a voice rang out from behind you, "_! Join the medical unit and assist in tending to the dead and wounded." It was Reeve Tuesti, your commander. You turned, clicked your heels together and saluted. "Yes sir!" Dropping your salute, you left, joining the others to gather the dead, some who had been your friends. It would be a long night ahead.