"Poppa..? Where do we go when we die.…?"
"I don't know son, But I like to believe that God takes us to someplace happy."
- Normamdy, France.
"Hey! New kid! Where you from?" Sergeant Kofax asks the young man distracted by his own thoughts, the landing craft bouncing on the waves, the sound of machine gun fire chattering in the distance.
"Anoka sir." The young man says, looking towards the Sergeant, the lumbering craft gaining more and more ground in its advance towards the beach, Omaha beach, to be precise. The men bearing the insignia of the 1st Infantry division, better known as the "Big Red One", by its members and fellow soldiers.
"Anoka? Where's that?" The Sergeant asks,a spray of seawater splashing over the hull.
"Minnesota Sir, I was born there." The young man replies, looking forward to the mass of helmets and rifles in the landing craft.
"I'm from Brooklyn, New york, Ma was born in Minneapolis." The Sergeant replies, looking forward as well, the driver looking back.
"Thirty seconds to landing!" The driver shouts, looking back to the beach, The soldiers readying themselves for the onslaught.
"I hope you make it home kid. I never got your name." The Sergeant says, loading a magazine into his M1A1 Thompson Submachine gun.
"Likewise sir. And its Mycroft. Donald William Mycroft. Say hi to your Ma for me." Donald says, shaking hands with the Sergeant, the craft lumbering towards steel tank traps.
"Will do kid. Names Lawrence, Call me Larry and I'll knock your teeth out. I'm gonna call you Donny." Lawrence replies with a strong shake of the boys hand. They both get ready to land the machine gun fire growing ever so loud, rounds ricocheting off the hull of the craft, some of the men flinching from the sound. The boat hits land, the ramp dropping, the men in front are all but ripped apart from merciless machine gun fire, Lawrence and Donald moving quickly off the craft, finding cover behind a sand dune.
"Christ! The Krauts have it in for us! You good Donny!?" Lawrence yells of the constant chattering of the machineguns, Donald looking over and nodding, he pops up over the tank trap, firing at the guns in the bunker, but to no avail. The machine guns training their fire on other landing craft, Donald and Lawrence moving closer to the bunkers, meeting up with other men from the 1st I.D.
"Welcome to Omaha beach Sarge! What's the plan!?"
-Mistral, Remnant.
"You dolt! How did you manage to pull this off!?" The young Heiress shouts, a young Reaper hiding in the corner, covered in what the Heiress could only imagine being soot from fire dust. The Heiress sighs and grabs a towel, wiping the soot from the face of the Red Reaper.
"I'm sorry Weiss.. It slipped out of my hands and shattered..." The young reaper replies, looking at Weiss. The Heiress sighs and pats her head.
"It's quite alright ruby, just please be more careful before handling dust, and please ask permission next time." She says, giving the reaper a reassuring smile. Ruby looks towards the window as a rather harsh storm was battering the Mistral Inn . It was rather unusual for a storm of this size to come to remnant, it was almost ominous, like a sign of things to come.