As the day came to a close, Jaune looked around the room. His team in various states. Pyrrha on her bed clearly passed out. Nora cuddling up to Ren, and said ninja just laying there in complete bliss. Jaune smiled. This was his team, his family, and some of the people he cared most for. He sat on his bed hoping ththat none of them had to do the things he remembered Corvo telling him, because according to the reaper, the sands of Vacuo were unforging.

-18 Years ago, The Sands of Vacuo-

Bullets flew in all directions. The enemy was closing in fast. Checking his mag he saw only 10 rounds. 'one in the chamber, and ten to spare. Shit.' He thought. A grenade blew not 5 meters from him, sand flew everywhere, visual confirmation of shit show around them was gone. The building the young 20 year old and what was left of his team was riddled with holes and scoring. The rest of his team was amongst the sands, gone forever.

A hand rested upon his shoulder snapping him out of his trance. He looked to see a bald man, clean shaven and covered in grime and blood. The bandage wrapped around his chest hardly holding back the blood. Rifle in hand Kriegs yelled "Warren! Get your shit together damnit! We're going to move to that two story 25 meters from here alright? I need you and Sanchez to stay behind and lay suppressing fire for the rest of the team. Just unload this bitch and take White's ammo. He isnt going to need it." Warren looked to White only to see the 17 year old kid face down in the floor. Eyes wide and a face contorted in pain. Grabbing the M240 he posted up in a window, bipod out and racked a round into the chamber. Sanchez sat beside him, sand and blood caking his uniform.

"Warren if we ever get out of this shit show, you owe me a beer damn it" said Sanchez with a half hazard grin.

"Man if we make it out of this, I'll buy you two beers." Warren said with equal enthusiasm.

Both men readied their weapons and waited for the dust to settle. As they waited it was silent. No sounds could be heard outside, no one talked, just the nervous fidgets of a few kids just wanting to make it to tomorrow alive. As the dust settled Sanchez spotted movment upon the sands. Calling it out, Warren fired the M240 in that general direction, while Sanchez was liberally applying M67 frags to the hills outside of the shack they were in.

Forgien screams could be heard as rounds and shrapnel met flesh and blood. They didn't stop though, it only egged on our two soldiers. Pumping more and more lead into the dunes umtil they heard nothing. Warren looked to his barrel and saw it glowing red and white. Naturally the barrel had melted, and the 240 became useless. With no more barrels and maybe 12 rounds left Warren grabbed what was left of the ammo and grabbed his M4 and Whites ammo.

'3 mags and what ive got left. Well this'll be fun' thought Warren. As soon as he had stored the ammo in his pouches, Sanchez told him that the enemy was about to breach the room.

Stacking up against cover, they waited. After what felt like hours, but was probably just a few minutes, the door slammed open. Four men garrbed in what was essentially dresses and armed with low tech assault rifles, they entered the shack. Sanchez being ever the devient one laid his rifle on the ground and unsheathed his knife. Well to be honest, it was more of a machete. Serrated edge, and a skull breaker on the grip.

The blade entered one of the enemies back and pierced all the way up and out of his throat, the man gurgled on his own blood as it spilled out of him from both his back and throat. Warren exiting his corner lifted his M4 and fired what was left of his magazine into the remaining three men. Thier bodies hitting the floor only seconds appart.

"Oum Damn it! Fucker decided to bleed all over my uniform! This shits never gonna come out!" screamed Sanchez while he tried to wring out his sleeve which was absolutely caked in blood.

Smiling Warren said "Your really worried out getting blood out of your uniform now? When the wolves are litterally at our doorstep?"

"Hey man I'm an optimistic alright? After all, we go home in like 2 weeks. and I'll be damned if im getting sent home in a Oum damn pine box!" Sanchez exclaimed.

Slinging his rifle, and grabbing one of the enemies. He looked at the weapon and realized it was 7.62mm. Grabbing another mag and throwing one of the rifles Sanchez's way he said "Didn't you always want to shoot one of these? Well here's your chance!"

"I meant on a range fucker, but hey love fire works too I guess?" Sanchez says reaching a round into the chamber. He then grabbed the magazine off the other dead for and stuffed it into his mag pouch. "Let's go to the RV with Kriegs. I'll bet you these motherfuckers had friends, and I don't think they'll be to pleased to know that we're still alive and their friends are dead eh?"

As if on que, rounds were popping off towards the sky, and the miss-machted battle cries could be heard. Grabbing what was left they headed out the door towards the other house.

As they neared the building they could see the green smoke, they could hear the helicopter blades. The heavy sound beating their ears, sight almost ripped away from them because of the sand and wind. They were going to make it home. Warren would get to see his wife and kids, Sanchez would get to see his friends and family, the two of them would have beers and have grillouts talking about stupid shit.

As they neared the building a single sound echoed through the air. A single sharp sound followed by a thud. Red mist filled the air around Warren, and when he turned he saw his best friend slumped on the floor with a bullet in his head.

Grabbing his body without a second of thought he carried him to the chopper where he finally broke. Warren cried and cried. He held his friends body, and after he had calmed down, he looked up to see only one other man. Kriegs sat at the far end of the helo with a cigarette in his hand and a tired worn face.

-Beacon Academy, Visitor Quarters-

Corvo woke up in a cold sweat. Getting up he shambled his way into the bathroom. Looking at the mirror he shook his head and pulled out a set of dog tags. On them read this

Sanchez Castillo

685966977466

Blood Type AB

Valean Army

With a sigh he spoke to his best friend again "I'll never forget you buddy, after all. I still owe you a beer."

A/NGod damn that took a while to type. Not because length or anything, but because theres a lot of fact in this chapter of fiction. Anywai, hope you enjoyed! Dueces!

~Essayons~