One lone survivor, if the other two weren't still alive, dared to squirm. The executioner looked towards his superior, his colonel, before looked back towards the sufferer who destroyed his last hope of survival through his own ignorance. A weak voice ordered the struggler to be finished. The lieutenant wanted this to be over as soon as possible, preferably within this second. What was intended to be a smartly-executed order was immediately degraded into confusion when members who had been hastily assembled into a firing squad detail looked at each other with hesitation, not knowing who would finish him off.

"Kill the bastard!" the NCO screamed, pointing his pistol at the detail. It was at this that even the colonel himself, a man who was not exactly known for being lax on discipline, was taken aback; despite this unexpected display, he kept silent. The firing squad themselves took one last look at one another, fear and desperation showing in their faces before they all took up to aim and fired in one unified volley whose level of perfection was high enough to cause one to wonder if they had been trained in rain, snow, and shine to do so.

The executioner holstered his weapon and waved the squad back into the mass of his own company.

"Carry on" his superior said, taking his own companies and moving in the direction of the firefights.

After saluting, the first-lieutenant looked at his own company, all of whom were shaken and disturbed both by the actions of themselves and the actions of their officer. The officer shared the same unnerved complexion, being disturbed by the actions of the entire Army. They stood there in silence for what seemed like half an hour, a silence which follows behind an event which demands respect and mourning, an event in which all present are humbled into knowledge that they have just witnessed a story which should be taken to mind and to heart as if there is some wise life-lesson to be learned from it, as if each one present was filled with a new perspective on how they viewed that around them.

It is not the feeling of a funeral, for even at the end comes the time of basking in the funny and humorous memories of the departed. It is not the feeling one receives when one is caught doing wrong, for after the speechless denial and loss of words comes either the continuation of such bad behavior or, in some cases, the desire to change and do better.

It is the feeling which gnaws at one's heart and soul, a burning desire to right the wrong of what they have witnessed, of what they have heard, of what they have seen, and knowing full well that such desires are, although ideal, simply impractical. It is the feeling of being made aware of the sins of the depraved, knowing that such sins have already been committed to the point where one is left only to regret that they ever took place. The lost lives of those three condemned, unattainable and unable to be revived, leaves many disconnected from the current happenings of the world. The wrongdoings of the twisted leaves such a shock that one finds it hard to comprehend that it simply just occurred. It leaves many in a speechless gaze in which the brain shuts down, as if even a hallmark of nature's beauty and innovation, the brain, which has created all that has been strived for and destroyed all that has been created, must pause to reexamine the passing of the latest events.

"Fifth through ninth platoons, go and tail the colonel, support if need be, second through fourth, you're with me, stay close. First platoon, you're at my side, don't wander."

His men disbanded from an informal huddle into their proper platoons. "Eugen!" he called to his sergeant. His subordinate turned to look at him, the blank stare still upon his face, ready to receive an order, any order that would help to put some purpose into their presence in this town and to get their minds off of what just occurred.

"This never happened."

"I'll spread the word" he replied with a nod, turning back to form with his own platoon, the first. From the look upon his face, it was clear to tell that he also believed that the events of this day should be wiped from memory of all those who were present. Everyone in the company wanted to get out the town, the place had already been polluted with the acts of the sick and twisted, the memories of what occurred leaving a dark veil over all who dared to enter the city limits with a permanence equal to that of the victim's teeth which will forever mark the spot of their execution.

"Addler!"

The lieutenant responded, looking back towards his friend, thinking it had come from him, but he kept on his way, as did everone else.

"Wake up, come on!"

Weary eyes opened, surroundings being hazy and blurry to the point where they all came together into one ugly mass of color. He felt something strangle his body, rendering it unmovable. Needless to say, an individual who had just woken up in a foreign place with no knowledge of how he ended up there was not in the mood to be attacked. He shook somewhat violently in an attempt to get free of whatever was attacking him.

"Addler, it's me! Kanata?"

His struggles stopped as he paused before letting his muscles relax, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. "Can I...?" he began, trying to move his arms. She complied and let him carry out his desires, moving hand to wipe the crud off his eyes so that he would no longer be hindered by the eyesight of a drunkard.

"Oh...heh...w-where am I?"

"You're at the church" she said with a concerned voice. "You were taken here after your...episode."

"Episode?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"You know, what happened last night."

"I wish I did know. I woke up with the eyesight of a drunk man and now you're telling me I have the memory of one?"

"You were crying and saying things, I couldn't understand you. You had me worried, but I'm happy you're better now!"

The lieutenant shrunk down in his bed as he let the covers advance over his chin. He didn't know how to respond. "Thanks..." he said, embarrassed like he had never been before. "Sorry if I caused an incident."

"Mishio-chan" she asked a passing girl. The girl turned to her attentively. "Can you go tell Yumina that he's woken up?" The girl nodded and skipped in the opposite direction in which she was previously headed.

"You didn't cause anything. I caused more of an incident, I was worried that you were ill or something."

"I've never had this happen before." he shyly admitted. Deep down inside, he had a pretty good idea of exactly what it was, but he hoped to the Gods that it would go away if he simply denied its existence. He didn't want to put up with anything like flashbacks or breakdowns. He had heard from others that you never really get over that sort of thing.

"What time is it?" he asked her.

"Early morning. Six. You snapped out of whatever was going on and fell fast asleep not too long after we brought you here.

"We?"

"A few of the Romans helped, you were too heavy for myself. I should become stronger, it's not good for a soldier to lack strength..."

"I see..." he replied. He honestly didn't know how to feel about being manhandled by two Romans, much less know how to articulate those thoughts into a response of any value, so he decided to change the subject.

"This is a church?"

"Church, daycare center, orphanage, hospital for the sick."

"That's quite-"

"You're up!" a woman said as she came in and saw her patient. She bore hair which was some type of dark-brown and a formal looking dress. Religious necklaces and bracelets adorned her neck and wrist. Her eyes were dark blue and almost serene to look at.

"I'm up, a bit confused by the events of the last 12 hours, but up"

She walked beside his bed, a hand on his, as she expressed how grateful she was to see him well. She said that there was no injuries to his body and that there's not much to do besides give a few blessings due to the fact that they only deal with physical injury, be it illness or otherwise.

He did find her to be a nice lady. He wasn't quite fond of the extremely devout, but should she prove to be a loving lady of grace then such shortcomings would most certainly be overlooked for an otherwise flawless personality.

"Yumina, he's new to the unit, got transferred." Kanata said to her

She blushed with a chuckle, "I'm sure you're more than happy to meet someone new."

Kanata nodded enthusiastically. "So, he's okay?"

"Yes, he's perfectly fine, at least from what we would be able to help him with. If it's any form of consolation..." she added, pulling something out of her pocket, "we can give you this as a sort of good-luck charm"

It was a religious necklace with what Addler assumed to be the Gods they worshipped. He didn't quite know them, as he came from a land in which many people worshipped many different Gods to the point where he never really bothered to learn much about any of them. Despite his skepticism of another God which even he himself had never heard of before, he accepted it. "My names Yumina" she informed him as she offered him her hand. He accepted the offer and got up on his feet with her help.

"I'd love to stay and get to know you" he told her, "but I'm sure you're quite busy with your duties, and I don't wanna be taking up another bed, so I do believe I should take my leave." Yumina nodded to this. "Perhaps we can find another time to become aquainted."

It was with a polite bow and a short blessing that she led them to the door. Kanata went out first. Addler was about to follow suit before he stopped and looked at her hesitantly, unsure whether to bother with saying anything or not to. "Y-yumina…" he shyly emitted with a clarity that was barely intelligible.

With an attentive look which confirmed that she was listening, he continued on. "A-are the Gods...forgiving of murderers?"

"All of those who repent are forgiven of their trespasses," she said, "they have protected us from the end of the world and now they shall protect us from falling victim to the evil of this world. If you are repentant, then yes, you shall be forgiven."

He felt slightly disheartened by this answer. He didn't really believe much in their Gods, mainly because he had only found out about their gods less than half an hour ago, so he was reluctant to depend on them for salvation and for the lifting of the burden of guilt which was beginning to surface.

True, he didn't quite expect an answer which didn't reference their Gods, but he did have hopes that she would provide some wise words to ease the pain which could not be healed with herbs or bed rest, the pain of the mind and of the soul.

He nodded slightly and took his leave, following Kanata back to the Clock Tower Fortress

-An Hour Later-

The reception which Addler received when making it back was mild. Everyone there showed some appreciation that he had recovered from whatever had happened last night, yet they still proceeded to treat the day as if it was any other day. Food was still made, the usual forms of passing time still persisted.

The only person who showed a persistent sign of concern was Felicia. He thought it to be weird, considering she was the most senior officer and therefore assumingly the most experienced, however he was never one to question sympathy when he received it.

The presence of concern was made official when she asked him to follow her to her office. "I'll be back" he said to Kanata, who he had been conversing with. She shut the door behind them and paced over behind her desk, looking out the lone window.

"You like Kanata?"

"Y-yes...she's a very...enthusiastic girl"

"I know, sometimes a bit too enthusiastic, but that's Kanata. Naïve and very enthusiastic."

He was happy to see that another person confirmed his view of her, although it could be said that he admired those traits of hers more than anyone else in the platoon did. Felicia went on to ask if he had bonded with any others. He said he had not, explaining how she was an easy one to bond with due to her out going nature, another point which his captain agreed with.

"You should talk with Rio. She's an interesting character. She can teach you how to play a song or two on the trumpet if you've the patience and the spare time. A bit of the serious type, but still a joy to have around."

"Is this why you've called me here?" he asked curiously. This was a question which was at the forefront of his mind ever since he was called out, 'why am I here?' being a question he was simply dying to ask. He knew for a fact that he wasn't in trouble, for he hadn't done anything to cause trouble. Felicia didn't seem like a stickler for military etiquette.

"If only it was" she said with a sigh. She turned around to face him, bearing a look of curiosity, almost playful, and yet all the more serious in nature. "Your 'illness', do you know what it is?"

He nodded shyly. "I have an idea, but...I'm a bit afraid to consider it a possibility."

"Humor me, please" she said with a smile. "You may find you're not the only one."

"I- do I have shellshock? Gods...I pray to 'em all that I don't, yet I can't help but feel that-"

"It's okay" she said with comfort. "I have it too, or I had it up until about half a year ago." Truth be told, the lieutenant was slightly relieved to her he was not the only one around with the ailment, but it didn't quite help him remedy it.

"Thank you...I just wish I knew how to get over it. So is that why I'm here? A little pep talk?"

Her smile turned to a look of almost sadness. Her sympathetic voice turned to that of firmness and seriousness. "That's only part of it."

"What?"

"I'm sending you to a place where you can get help."

"I don't want to leave!" he said in a sudden outburst. His voice wavered as he became emotional, fearful of the attachments which he had made with those whom he had known not even a week. "Please, I'm fine, I don't wanna be transferred, please!"

"Relax," she said, her caring tone returning once more. Addler breathed a sigh of relief as he was able to regain some of his composure. "You're not being transferred, you're just going on a little field trip. You'll come back here and be with us again when you're done."

"I'm glad I'm not being moved out."

"You're family now," she said with a smile, "we don't disown family. We took Kanata in with open arms as soon as we met her, even if she arrive late and in a mess; we'll do the same for you."

Addler smiled for the first time that day. Although he was in a pretty unhappy mood, he could at least find solace that he was going to be accepted with open arms, at least by Felicia and Kanata. With that issue out of the way, he inquired into what she had said.

"What kind of 'field trip'?"

"They're opening up a new military hospital outside of Seiz. I'm sending you there."

"I...-" he began in protest

"You're only going to be there for three months. That's the minimal stay time and I specifically asked for it. If they keep you longer than you can rest assured Rio and I won't be taking kindly to it."

"I don't know if it'll do me any good...I know what sanitariums are like, I used to intern at one when I was into my studies...there's no compassion there, only drugs to dull the pain and insanity and the loneliness which comes from endless hours of solitary confinement. Not to mention I honestly don't think I'm that disturbed.

She put a hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes which refused to look at hers. He knew she cared, yet he knew even more than psychiatric wards were the closest form of hell and neglect in which a human could hope to experience.

"I would've gone if such opportunities were available; they didn't offer such programs when I was fighting my own demons. You can't do it on my own."

That hit a nerve. "And resort to what!?" he shouted, "Being drugged into a state of delusion to where I'm no longer bothered by the pain which I should be getting therapy for? Being denied my rights to privacy and decency as a human being? Locked in a cell as if I'm a mad man!? Drugs are not therapy! I've seen psychologists at work! All those miserable bastards!"

Felicia stood there silent. She understood the anger which he felt, for she had anger when she was in her spot too, however it was not anger at another but anger at her own self for daring to live while her loved ones had not, to have the nerve to lick her wounds while others were gasping for life.

"I can fight my own battle." he continued once more, pacing around the room with heavy feet. "I need to, for my own sake, I can't just depend on the drugs or the therapy to make me happy or to fix me."

"You're saying there's no such thing as pure therapy in psychology?"

He looked at her question with both irritation and discontent.

"There is, but the percentage of therapists who actually refrain from drugs and employ client-based therapy are...far from enough."

Felicia still kept up her argument, her attitude firm but never turning into impatience or irritation. "Are you saying there's not chance at all that you'd get any sort of help? Surely there has to be at least one good doctor there, at least one good nurse. There have been plenty of people which have been helped in immense ways by therapy and treatment which could only be given at such a hospital."

"Felicia...physical health is one thing. Yes, some physical ailments are psychologically caused, but the type of shellshock which is most common, not the twitching or the other physical symptoms, but the nightmares, the flashbacks, and the memories...that's entirely psychological. It's hard to cure, immensely hard to cure, hard to treat. Many a doctor goes in, having a burning desire to help people, to make them sane again, simply because he cares..."

"Isn't that a good think?" she questioned.

His head lowered as he exhaled a sigh. "Most of 'em end up having that beautiful desire to heal and help snuffed out when they realize how difficult and complicated the mentally ill are. Their desire to heal fades after the first few months away just as the young boy soldier's desire to be a hero fades away during the first few battles. If their patient a reasonably sane man with a few disorders or ailments who needs some therapy to reach the top of the mountain, anxiety, borderline depression, shellshock, the like, they'll only lose their desires when they lose their passion for the job itself. If you're forced to work with the insane man who is more likely to end his life than to end his disorders, you'd learn a certain hatred for the ones you're supposed to care for."

"And you say the type of doctor you'd be paired with is?"

"Only the twisted and the depraved deny their fellow man the right to live life with a sober mind. If I wanted to take away the pain through a lack of mental awareness I'd be spending my time in a bar. I can't stand the type, all they do is give medicine, except in some cases it's shove down your throat. You want my honest opinion? Forgive me, but they're pathetic, lowly excuses for sentient beings who masquerade as real doctors.

Silence finally settled in the room.

"Addler..." she finally spoke.

"I'm sorry...I've just...being in such an atmosphere would make me feel even worse. I'm not just saying that because I don't wanna go, I feel like its genuinely bad for my health, and ironically my sanity."

"Please," she continued, "give it a try. For me. You've brought many valid points, but I know in my heart that there's one good person there. There's simply got to be."

He let a small smile break through his distraught expression. "Kanata's said you were always were one to hold on to your hopes, she said she's never seen you act violently towards another until you took some rogue hostage after he threatened to execute your prisoner and start the war up again. I hope that if your hopes run out, you'll find that volatile determination to help get me out."

She nodded with agreement.

He looked into her eyes which showed not only care and concern but now a hint of regret. Regret, perhaps, that she had not been given the chances which she herself was now trying so hard to give to him, the ability to seek treatment? She still had occasional relapses every half a year or so, or even two or three. She never learned to cope with them besides learning from her own self about what works and what doesn't.

"I don't question my existence anymore, something which was brought to mind because of...what happened to me"

Addler looked on, tried of arguing but listening.

"But", she continued, "I still question how to put the memories behind me. They're still with me. I just hope that you going there would give you something which I never had: A professional's advice on how to put such things at rest.

A long silence followed as Addler thought and thought about what he should do. Was he right in believing that being in an institution would be harmful to his well being, not being able to see a friend for months, possibly being surrounded by disturbed individuals and apathetic staff?

Or, he wondered, did his CO have a point? Could he somehow find closure within the confines of such an institution? Would he somehow be able to find someone who would give him the helping hand that he desired, or at least a few wise words? Perhaps; besides, he knew all too well that Felicia would probably order his release the minute she caught wind of him suffering some detrimental effects of being kept there, he trusted her and her desire to save a 'family member' What had he to lose then?

"I-I'll do it..." he said, breaking the stillness of the atmosphere.

Felicia smiled, "Thank you. Besides," she said with a chuckle, "Captain's orders."