Story's Beta-reader: gabrielchiong11 (go give them some love!)

6/6/1944 Operation: D-Day, Earth.

Clouds silently watched from their safety in the sky…for the U.S landing crafts were nearing their destinations. By now the Germans had noticed their advance and had open fire upon the American aircraft had finally shown up, and they flew towards the Drop Zone (DZ) filled with impatient paratroopers. The sight saddened the clouds, and soon they began to cry, for the death to come was to much for them, for they knew that war is hell.

Sergeant Johnson of the 5th Infantry watched as the airplanes started to take flak. The rain soaked his simple wool uniform, and soon the blood would as well. Now the German's machine-guns had opened fire upon his boat, and soon some of the slower men fell…holes in their heads. The boat operator started yelling something, but the roar of the engines, and the blasts of explosions and guns muted him.

The sergeant hit the deck as soon as he felt the boat ram into the beach. Soon enough, the front lowered into a ramp, and bullets ripped through the boat, instantly killing those unfortunate enough to be assigned to the front of the deck. The rest, including the sergeant, jumped off the sides, and into the freezing waters below.

"Move damn it," he shouted at the men around him, "move into the beach's cover and shoot those damned Germans!"

The men responded with a simple, "yes sarge!"

Once upon the dry-ish land, the sergeant had pulled out his M1 Garand rifle, and though the chances were slim, he still had managed to shoot a couple of the Germans, although they survived for the most part. The medics had arrived, causing him to glance to the side, losing a perfectly lined up shot. Damn, he thought, fuckin' medics. He ducked as a machine-gun fired upon his position.

"FUCK," rang out a pained cry from an unknown soldier, "MEDIC!"

The sergeant didn't look back, for somebody had thrown a grenade into one of the German pillboxes, giving him time to move further up on the beach. Noticing he was the only one further up, he yelled at his men to move further up with him.

Soon they had crawled their way up to the pillbox's base, and the sergeant ordered a private to keep watch while they schemed. The sounds of explosions and gunshots made it almost impossible to think, or even hear each other, forcing them to move up without a plan in mind.

"It probably wasn't the best idea," said one of Johnson's squad mates when interviewed, "after all, it got most of us killed…God, I still see that horrid place in my dreams…"

They charged into the pillbox, rifles at the ready, expecting some sort of resistance…but no German showed his face. Every man's nerves were on edge as they slowly walked forward into the pillbox.

"You boys watch out here," said the sergeant, "I'm going to check out the turret area."

Calls of "yes sarge," followed him as he moved into that fateful room. He heard a strange chanting in the back of his head as he opened the heavy steel door, but thought nothing of it as a German ran out of hiding, and suddenly he felt hot metal enter and then leave his body. The German kept up his barrage until his Sturmgewehr ran out of ammunition, but thankfully for the poor Yankee, the German had mostly missed, for if he had not, the Yankee would have died there. So using the distraction, the Yankee stumbled out into another room where he tumbled unceremoniously into a green portal.

6/6/1944 Operation: UNKNOWN, unknown planet

An explosion ran out from the courtyard, and Louise was downtrodden…just like all spells she could cast, this one ended in an explosion as well.

The other students started snickering, but that soon ended when a deep throated yell rang out, "MEDIC!"

"I'VE BEEN SHOT," the sergeant yelled through the smoke, "DAMN IT!"

Now the students were worried, for Louise had managed to summon a musketeer, or at least a soldier of some kind. Soon they found out, though, once a strangely dressed man stumbled from the cloud of smoke. He held out one hand which carried what looked like a strange flintlock pistol of some sort, and the other hand grasped at his side, attempting to stop the now very apparent blood from flowing out.

The Yankee stumbled towards the people dressed in medieval garb, for perhaps one of them was a medic. He could feel his life quickly seeping out of his side as he stumbled towards the group. But soon his wounds got to him, and he collapsed into the arms of a small girl with strange hair.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, a man had followed the Yankee through the portal. He laid, hidden in the nearby wall's shadow, watching as they carried the Yankee off to the medical areas. His eyes narrowed as he clutched his rifle tighter...he had a plan...he always had a plan, and he knew he must watch this man...perhaps he would join him eventually...but only time would tell...and time doesn't let out it's secrets easily.