Eastern Banks of Rho River Bridge, 1st Recon's and RCT-5's Position Outside Italica, April 5th, 2021 (0740)

The sounds of pickaxes and entrenching tools hitting the ground filled the air as Marines went on with their daily chores, some resting on their Humvees, cleaning their weapons or just sleeping. Tanks and armored vehicles of RCT-5 crowded the area, the noise of their engine disrupting the tranquil morning as the 4 tanks of Centurion-1 took up position overlooking the bridge, providing guard duty for the Recon Marines behind them.

Bravo Company's Marines, with their respective platoon and team, busied themselves with a variety of activities: cleaning their weapons, checking their gear, fixing broken windshields, masturbating, chatting and other chores. Their Humvees parked on the plains outside Italica, the morning twilight making the grassy fields more beautiful than they could imagine, wild Ma-nugas continued to graze the fields near them, oblivious to the presence of the hundreds of war machines parked on the field, resting as they plotted their next move. The persistent sounds of explosion and the dreaded sounds of whistling bombs can be heard across the fields, these sounds originated from the city of Italica, who have been ravaged by the non-stop air and land bombardment. RCT-7 began moving in to sweep the city of any hostile forces that might've survived the initial shellings, with RCT-5 and 1st Recon blocking the bridge out, leaving any remaining combatants trapped in the city.

Sitting near his turret position, Kirito watches as a round explodes on top of a caravan trying to escape the city, he turns away from the scene in disgust, shaking his head, he tries to push the thought away from his mind, not wanting for it to interfere with his job. But deep down, he knew he would have to deal with the horrors he saw.

I hope I will be forgiven.

Suddenly, he was interrupted by his leader while deep in thought, startling him a bit having not expected Simon to appear out of the blue. Prompting him to turn around to start working on his Mark-19, which has jammed due to lack of LSA lubricants as a result of supply problems.

"So how's the condition of the Mark-19? Is it working yet?" Jumping onto the roof of his Humvee, Simon immediately asked his gunner as he let out a soft grunt, leaping towards his turret position, his fingers pointed towards the black silhouette in their Humvee turret.

"It's fucked, I can barely get it to fire ten or fifteen rounds." As if he knew the question is going to be raised sooner or later, Kirito answered it in a heartbeat with a cold tone, as he hunches over the Mark-19, shoving his hands into the feeder as he tries to get out the 40mm round that got stuck, before finally getting it out, the round firmly in his hand as he puts it right beside his M249 SAW. Watching this, Simon immediately went to work to help his gunner, trying as best as he could to unjam the turret, shoving his hands in as he tries to help him get another round out of the feeder.

"Yeah you're right, this shit is totally ineffective, we need a fucking LSA." Simon quietly mutters under his breath, taking out a round of 40mm grenade from the chamber before neatly putting it besides Kirito, who is also trying to get the rounds out.

"Where are we even supposed to find a fucking LSA? That shit is in short supply, shorter than the average length of a Japanese cock." Chiming into their conversation, Evan flatly remarked while leaning his back against the hood of the Humvee, not looking at the duo behind him, which prompts Kirito to stare at him with murderous intent from beneath his tinted goggles because of his remark earlier. Simon meanwhile, simply shrugs it off, his hands firmly inside the Mark-19's chamber, trying to apply anything that could be improvised as substitute lubricant into the feeder, ripping out the opening of a MRE peanut butter spread, before rubbing it into the gun.

"You know, I signed up in the Marines because of the recruiting officer fucking lied to me. Fucker said that I'm gonna get stationed in an amphibious ship and then see the world, moving from ports to ports getting pussy and shit right? Now here I am, in a fucking Zelda shithole plains with bunch of Marines talking about how they're gonna put their dicks into STD-ridden cunts of the natives." Evan continues as he crawls under the Humvee, dragging his sleeping bag behind him, trying to sleep after being on guard duty for the past 8 hours.

"Hey, uhhh, you guys remember that scene from Generation Kill about meditative wet dreams and shit? The one where Poke went on talking about fucking any girls they want through meditation, except it feels so real, or at least that's what he claimed." Despite being very drowsy, Evan still didn't let go of his Rip-Its induced rambling, followed by the exasperated sigh of his fellow teammates.

"What the hell does that scene have to do with our current situation?" Sitting from the roof of the Humvee, busy stripping and cleaning his M4A1, Simon nonchalantly asked his driver in a cold tone, who is currently laying down under the Humvee as he continues his growing list of bizarre rants about the war.

"Yeah dude, fuck was that supposed to mean?" Clancy adds, his voice barely audible, suppressed by the thundering sounds of explosions happening in the background, his mouth full of M&Ms while his rifle is sitting on his lap, the magazine empty.

"Had the Saderans tried meditative wet dreams, then this whole shit wouldn't have happened. Remember my theory about war and sex couple of days ago? Yeah, it's related, I mean dude, think about the power of your brain, the fact that it manages to make our dick cums during wet dreams through sheer power of the mind, it's like banging a girl in your head, but it feels so real. Why can't these fucking isekai Romans retards harness these ability, instead of practicing meditative wet dreams so they can have sex in their braindead mind, they decided to go full retard, entered the Gate and started slaying LGBT+ Emmas left and right in San Diego and pissed us off in the process."

"Shit, think about it, meditative wet dreams is basically wet dreams but you're awake, why can't these autistic retarded fucks try the thing with their magics and shit? I'm pretty sure meditating about drilling an Elven chick is easier than raising an entire legion full of retards trying to get some pussy, all you had to do is find some empty, peaceful field in this shithole continent, sit with your leg crossed on a rock, then imagine you're getting a blowie from a hot witch, and let your brains do all the hardwork as you enjoy the fantasy winds hitting your cock." Pointing his fingers at the dead bodies of Italicans strewn around their position, Evan kept up with his ramblings, deciding not to sleep as a result of drinking too much energy drinks which caused Clancy to hold back a smile, creeping on his face as he tries to clean his M4A1.

Simon meanwhile, simply jumps down from the roof, holding his M4A1 with his right hand as he recovers from the perfect leap before laying down to face his driver under the Humvee, his green eyes staring at him with a death glare, with a suppressed smile trying to creep on his face, his face is currently in a weird mix of trying not to laugh and absolute seriousness, opening his mouth to speak.

"Evan, please shut the fuck up."

"Yes, Sergeant." A reply immediately came from his driver whose face has a shit-eating grin on it, satisfied now that he just lightened the mood in the Humvee, finally shutting up as he pulls out a novel from his rucksack, despite his goofball attitude and non-stop shenanigans, he's an avid reader whenever he's not talking about how retarded Molt and his fellow cocksuckers in the Imperial Army are.

"Good." Simon blankly remarked, before getting up and jumping on the hood of the vehicle, he then headed back to the roof to clean his rifle and the Mark-19 in peace, satisfied knowing he just shutted up Evan.

The sun had already risen, shining brightly from the east, their rays glinting off the windshields of Bravo Company's Humvees and MTVR trucks, while the sound of the river water can be heard alongside the gunfire and artillery rounds landing in the city behind them, the sounds akin to a freight train being thrown across the heavens. Shrugging off the noises, the 4 men continued on, while their officers were busy planning their next movement.

Walking down the column of parked vehicles alongside the bridge, Lt Mistral watched as multiple helicopters flew over their position, conducting attack sorties while fighter jets, high in the sky, could be seen by their contrails, filling up the clear blue sky as they moved towards their assigned targets.

"There goes an entire legion worth of soldiers." He silently mutters, gazing towards the sky with a slight smile on his face. His platoon are busy minding their business, making preparation for their next mission, possibly moving ahead of RCT-5 to act as their covering force for the up-coming advance.

Suddenly, a loud shout interrupted his sky-gazing, the shouting coming from his left, prompting him to turn towards that direction as he tried to find the person that yelled at him, calling his name.

"Lieutenant!"

The man who called him, Sergeant Simon Williams, one of his team leaders, can be seen gesturing towards him from the roof of his Humvee, signaling Lt. Mistral to walk towards his vehicle Seeing this, he immediately approached Simon, who's currently sitting next to his gunner as they both try to unjam the main turret of the Humvee as a result of H&S not bringing enough LSAs for the heavy guns used by the Marines.

"Sir, it seems like the main gun on your point vehicle is broken." The first to speak up is Simon, pointing at the Mark-19 of his Humvee as Lt. Mistral approached him, jumping over the trunk of the vehicle, making his way to the roof as he slung back his M4A1, muttering only….

"Uh huh"

"Trying to use this peanut butter as substitute, is like trying to anally-rape a virgin, underaged, blind Afghan kid with a 18-inch dragon dildo, when a proper lube is clearly needed." Simon flatly said with a straight face, the statement causing an amused smile to appear on the face of his superior, who could only sigh in resignation as his amused smile turned grim.

"Well, you gotta have to deal with it, Sergeant, we're gonna move out by 1300 hours, I'm heading to Battalion HQ for a briefing, then we'll move out." Jumping towards the ground from the roof before recovering from his leap as he turned to face Simon, Lt. Mistral grimly remarked about their current status as he sympathized with his men's problem, pushing off dirt from his FLC vest in the meantime. Before continuing for the last time.

"You want logistics, join the Army. Marines make do!" Lt. Mistral mockingly exclaimed, poking fun at the Marines's doctrine of being flexible as he heads off to the Battalion HQ for another round of briefing. His remark caused Simon and his team to shake their head at the current situation, the invasion had been plagued with supply shortages and other sorts of problems ever since they entered through the Gate 2 weeks ago, the small entrance of the Gate not helping as they too contributed to the growing list of supply problems for the Marines.

"Welp, that sucks. Also, where the fuck did the Traveler go?" Putting down his novel for a moment, Evan casually remarked from under the Humvee, talking to no one in particular while watching their Platoon Commander walk away, heading to the Battalion HQ for another round of briefing, before going back to reading his book, it seems like his question went unanswered, drowned by the sounds of the river running in the background mixed with the intense explosions.

Couple of meters away from their Humvee is 2-1 Bravo, whose men are currently conversing with their fellow colleagues from Hitman 2-2, joining them is the Traveler, currently holding a small letter, writing to his girlfriend while leaning his back against the trunk of Dow's Humvee, occasionally gazing at the grassy fields around him, admiring the continent's natural beauty, only ruined by the dead bodies of Imperial foot soldiers strewn around it, reinforcement headed for Italica that was bombed by coalition's air and artillery.

Occasionally, he'd eavesdrop the conversations of the Marines around him.

"Jesus dude, why'd you piss on the dead bodies?"

"I really fucking hate these Roman copycats fucks, I'd shit, piss and jerk off on every single body of these asswipes we find along the way to Sadera, that'd be fucking cool don't ya think?"

"Crazy motherfucker." Sebastian and Allie muttered in tandem, both of them standing behind Lance Corporal Alan Redman, can only shake their head in disgust at the statement of their friend, who is currently preoccupied with unloading his bowels on the charred body of a Imperial Legionnaire on the empty fields just by the roadside, the body of his fellow comrades can be seen strewn all around him.

"I mean it when I said that, fucking retards suddenly appeared out of nowhere in San Diego, looted shops, raped women and force kids into slavery, ain't no fucking way I'm gonna go into this continent spreading love and democracy, that shit is super gay." Zipping his camouflaged pants, Alan continues his rant as he slung back his M249 SAW as he walks back towards 2-1 Bravo's Humvee with a smile on his face, his face shining brightly in the chilly morning.

Suddenly, the Traveler's eavesdropping operation is interrupted, feeling as if something light had touched his shoulders which prompted him to turned to face behind him, revealed to be the blonde Nathan, lightly kicking his shoulders while sitting on the Humvee's trunk, currently trying to gain his attention, before finally speaking up.

"Hey Traveler, why are you still here?" The question confused him, raising an eyebrow to show Nathan that he didn't get what he was trying to say.

"What do you mean?"

Sighing for a moment, Nathan cleared his throat before asking the question again, this time being more specific to not confuse the resident reporter, making it as clear as he can.

"Why are you still here? Still with us after the batshit insane thunder run through Italica yesterday? I mean, anyone with common sense, would've taken the first helicopter heading towards Alnus the moment we drove out of the city and yet here you are, still tagging with us."

"Why not? I've done lots of things, just to get assigned to you guys before the invasion started, I don't want to lose it all, besides, you guys are pretty cool to hang out with."

"Huh, thought you might be here just to shit on us like some gay-ass antifa liberal cocksucker that'd probably pussy out the moment shit went wrong like yesterday." Impressed by the Traveler's sheer bravery and obliviousness to danger, Nathan jokingly remarked, his blue eyes staring at the Traveler not in malicious, but rather in an impressed way.

"I'll take that as a compliment." The Traveler smugly remarked, not expecting a compliment from a group of elite Marines deserved to be referred to as warriors, winking at Nathan as a thank you, before going back to writing in his notebook that he brought for his journalism activities.

"Godfather knows that we'll come out on top when he sent us through Italica." Sutherby chimes into the conversation, taking a puff from a cigarette before continuing, which causes the Traveler to listen intently to what he has to say, his hands firmly holding his pen.

"We are Recon Marines, Swift, Silent and Deadly, Godfather knows this, which is why he decided to send us through Italica in shitty Humvees, he knew we'll make it through because we're trained killers. But just because it works, doesn't mean it's right, if something went wrong yesterday, we all might be killed." The usually quiet team leader of Hitman 2-2 offered his opinion on the Italica Thunder Run through Italica yesterday with a frowning face, his low-pitched voice adding to the seriousness of his statement, to which everyone nodded in agreement.

"You know, the reason why Falcon didn't send RCT-7 through the city is probably because he cared for his men, unlike the fucking glory-hounds chasing medals and praises, he's tryna get full-bird colonel on our backs." Speaking up from his driver seat, Dow angrily remarked while loading rounds into the empty magazines of his M4A1 before glancing at the Traveler as a sign to note what he just said. Seeing this, the Traveler immediately clicked on his pen, writing Dow's statement, which he already memorized.

The Marines continue to voice their dissatisfaction for incompetent officers and gloryhounds, keeping it between themselves as getting caught by said officers might result in them getting chewed out for disrespecting the higher-ups.

Battalion HQ (0930)

Jumping out of a UH-1Z Venom, Godfather lowered his head before walking towards his command tent, avoiding the dust coming from the helicopter that has just landed hundred of meters outside the tent. He had just returned from a meeting with Major General Kelly together with Colonel Brady, both of them returning to their respective units.

Walking towards his tent, Godfather turned his head left and right as he entered, checking if all of his SNCOs and Officers were attending the meeting, squinting his eyes as he double checked.

Satisfied knowing all of his subordinates is here, he began the meeting, clearing his throat before finally speaking up

"I have just returned from a meeting with General Kelly, I'm proud to say he is impressed by our push through Italica yesterday, we are finally back in the game gentlemen, official kudos from the Division." Gleefully speaking with a smile on his face, Godfather paused for a moment, taking a map handed over by Sgt Major Ackermann before continuing..

"I have good news and bad news." Pausing yet again for a moment to let his word sink in, silence filled the tent for a few seconds before a certain crimson haired commander of Alpha Company raised his hand amidst the crowd, speaking up.

"What is it, sir?"

"Alright, the good news is, we will be back in the game, we'll be the tip of the spear for the division once again. We will detach from the main forces, advance ahead of them into the Dumas with them following behind us, destroy, out-maneuver and kill anyone that tries to stop us, we will be far ahead of any friendly forces, maybe 20 klicks behind enemy lines, which means more enemy for us to blow up." Godfather smugly said, his hands pointing ahead of the 1st Marine Division, firmly pointed at MSR Tijuana leading up to the Duma Mountains.

"Basically acting as a covering force for the 1st MARDIV?"

"Correct." Confirming Captain Wileman's question, Godfather nods, before opening his mouth yet again to continue his statement.

"The bad news is, we'll be 20 klicks ahead of the main forces, gentlemen, we will be deep behind enemy lines. The division will be following behind us." Godfather concludes his briefing, followed by murmurs from the crowds of officers and SNCOs gathering inside his tent.

"Also, I may want to inform you that there will be a CAAT Team from 2/5 attached to our battalion, those guys will be led by Second Lieutenant Albert Shawn." Godfather informed his subordinates, pointing his fingers at the Lieutenant in question. Before asking the crowd.

"Before I end this meeting, any questions that you may wanna ask?" Once again speaking, Godfather's question silenced the earlier murmurs, filling the tent once again, only the sounds of nearby gas turbine engines of M1A1 Abrams can be heard now.

"Anyone?" Godfather asked the question once again, followed by silence, seeing this, he finally concludes the meeting.

"Alright then, that's it for today, we're Oscar Mike in 30 minutes." Hearing this, everyone began moving out of the tent, heading back to their respective unit as they prepare to move out.

MSR Tijuana, 1st Reconnaissance Battalion (1235)

Gentle breeze blows lightly in the air, their wind causing the tall grasses on the fields along the highway to sway backwards, despite being a sunny day, the temperature is neither too high nor too low courtesy of the breeze. Shepherds walked in the grassy plains, herding their sheeps under the sun, enjoying the peaceful scenery. The mountains of Dumas and its valleys can be seen in the distance stretching high towards the heavens, villagers, whose homes are located on slopes of the mountain range, continued on with their life. Meanwhile, a boy who strayed far away from his home tried to find a flat ground for his sheeps to graze on.

Suddenly, an unholy roar interrupted the peaceful tranquility, causing the sheeps to run back to their owner, who in turn, turned his head towards the noise due to his desire to find out the source. The boy, hiding behind a rock, peeked his head upwards in the search of the noise, squinting his eyes in an effort to find the weird roaring before finally finding the source, surprising him and causing him to duck down in terror.

Metal elephants with no legs? People with weird-looking hats and dirty shirts riding in strange metal wagons with another men on top of them, operating a massive, black staff?

Looking through his binoculars, Dow continued to scan the surrounding area along the highway, looking for any signs of ambush. For the past 2 hour, they've been on the road, moving on what can only be described as Roman Highway, except this time, it's on a fantasy world straight out of MMORPGs instead of archeologic sites in Europe. The battalion had stopped couple of times during their journey to Dumas due to some units getting lost or took a wrong turn, causing the whole unit to wait for said lost unit to un-fuck themselves. Fortunately, the issues were resolved in no time, due to the help of GPS and BLUFOR Tracker maps, now available to be used due to some very smart individuals establishing a network of datalinks in Alnus. At least as a result of these geniuses in Alnus, they won't have to listen to Lt. Superman's panicked rambling on the radio about the horrible ways they're gonna be ambushed.

Tall grasses along the highway swayed as a result of gentle breezes, the grassy fields wouldn't looked out of place in a Zelda game, coupled with the mountains in the background which makes the scenery even more beautiful than it currently is, sheeps and Ma-nugas continued to graze the nearby fields, only to be disturbed by the rumbling sounds of turbine engine from the Abrams leading the convoy.

Suddenly, a figure peeked out behind a large rock in the middle of the plains, prompting Dow to double take, he then grabbed his binoculars which he had placed on the dashboard of the Humvee before taking a look at the rock, now with his Binoculars. He tried to find the figure that peeked his head out, unfortunately, he didn't manage to capture the figure in time. He turned his head towards Nathan, sitting behind his seat, also looking at the rock in question through his AN/PVS-17 scope on his M4A1.

"Yo Nathan, you see anything?" Dow merely asked his subordinate, before taking a look at the rock once again.

"Nope, I see nothin' Sergeant." An answer came from Nathan, who is still observing through his PVS-17, before promptly lowering his rifle, shaking his heads as a gesture towards his team leader that nothing is seen by him. Cortez is facing to the left covering his sector, which is why Dow didn't ask him instead, despite being the M2 Gunner of their open-roof Humvee, giving him a perfect view of his surroundings.

Pressing on the press-to-talk button of his PRR radio, Dow decided to radio the vehicle in front of him, asking the team leader, Simon, if he managed to catch the glimpse of said figure.

"2-1 Bravo to Hitman 2-1, be advised, we may have a possible Imperial Scout observing our position hiding behind a rock in the fields to your right, over."

Hearing this, Simon immediately gripped his M203 launcher, holding his gun as he peered through the ACOG scope of his rifle, moving it left and right in search for the rock in question, before finally stopping, indicating he had found it.

He watched as a small figure of a boy, no older than 14 year old, peeking out from the rock, before awkwardly waving at them, causing Simon to raise his hand to mirror his action, waving back at the kid who smiled before ducking down yet again, going back to herding his sheeps which had run away due to the noise of the tank engines. It seems like the boy has assumed that they have no intent of hurting him, calming down as he went back to doing his daily chores.

"It's just a kid….. How adorable." Simon silently mutters, smiling at the boy as his earlier cold and serious facade crumbles, replaced by a friendly grin, he then pressed the push-to-talk button of his PRR radio headset, not letting go of his friendly gaze of the boy.

"2-1 Bravo, negative, that is a shepherd, not a scout, I say again, a shepherd, how copy? over."

"Hitman 2-1, this is 2-1 Bravo, solid copy, out."

"That's nice. Let's hope that he won't be machine-gunned to death by trigger-happy fucks in the battalion." Glancing at his friend, sitting right next to him talking on the radio, Evan casually commented as he took a sip from a Rip-Its can, throwing it outside after finishing it. Prompting Simon to snap his head towards Evan, looking at him with a death glare.

"How many times do I have to tell you to not, fucking, throw shits out of the Humvee?" Simon blankly reminded his driver of the rules inside his Humvee, his glare causing a frown to appear on the face of Evan.

"Jeez dude, calm down, I don't have any designated places to store empty cans inside the vehicle alright? Do you want me to just, you know, fill up the vehicle with empty cans, dirty hentai mangas and some other stuff like that?" Rolling his eyes, Evan annoyedly replied, which caused Simon to simply roll out his tongue at him, before going back to scanning the roadsides and the fields for any hostile forces.

"Whatever." Smiling brightly, Simon silently celebrates in his mind, managing to annoy his driver after all his antics in the invasion all while gazing outside at plains, hunching over his M4A1.

Not pleased with being made fun of, Evan began talking, breaking the silence inside the Humvee as a payback.

"Any of you ever got a McChicken with extra mayo?"

Clancy, clueless to the situation, immediately answered the question, raising his eyebrow in confusion.

"Yeah..?"

"Right, so what do you do when that thing gets all over your face?" With Clancy taking the bait, Evan immediately went on with his very unusual theory about the war.

"Wipe it off? That's pretty fucking obvious dude." Clancy retorted at his friend's remark, his face puzzled.

"Wrong, you lick it off with your tongue, like how you'd lick off a dude's cum on your face, would be better if you stare at the guy in front of you while doing that." A smirk began to appear on Evan's face, slowly turning his head towards Clancy, looking at him in a sexual way, causing Clancy to startle back a bit, surprised by his friend's unexpected antic.

"Evan, please shut it with your raging, homesexual fantasy, I'm trying to focus for fuck sakes." Simon blankly exclaimed, joining into the conversation, not realizing he has been baited just like Clancy.

"Oh no, the twink himself has spoken, siding with the other twink sitting behind me." Finally getting his payback, Evan silently pumped his fist into the air, causing Simon and Clancy to snap their heads at the energetic driver of their Humvee.

"Shut, the, fuck, up will ya?" Both of them spoke up in tandem, the duo glaring at him with murderous intent, who happens to have an amused smile on his face, suppresing a snicker.

"Yeah, yeah." Evan casually responds to their request, finally shutting up for good, managing to annoy his friends in less than 1 minute, while the Traveler can only look in shock at the trio arguing over themselves, his face bewildered, silently mouthing the word "Wow".

Suddenly, their team leader spoke up, this time speaking in a serious voice, raising his M4A1 as he took a peek from his ACOG scope, his facial expression indicating he had spotted something in the fields far away as he lowered his rifle.

"Enemy encampment, maybe 4 or 5 klicks out." Simon flatly said, getting on his personal radio while his team members leaned towards the front, trying to take a peek at said encampment, squinting their eyes in an attempt to spot it

"Is it me or, those guys looks like fucking knights in shining armor?" Clancy commented, it seems to be that he has noticed the sunlight glinting off the iron armor of the knights in the encampment.

"Looks like it." Evan calmly responds to his question, squinting his eyes to see the knights in question more properly, he has quieted down with his goofball attitude, his training as Reconnaissance Marine kicking into action.

"Hitman-2, this is Hitman 2-1, we have what seems to be an enemy encampment to our 1 o'clock, maybe 5 klicks out, how copy?"

"Hitman 2-1, this is Hitman-2, wait one, over." A reply came back from the radio, telling Simon to wait for a reply, as Lt Mistral tries to confirm what he just saw. Soon enough, the lead tank of the convoy turned its turret to the right, followed by another transmission from Lt. Mistral.

"Hitman 2-1, go ahead and halt your vehicle, Centurion-1 has a visual on the encampment with their thermals, over." Hearing this, Simon immediately orders Evan, who's currently gazing at the glinting armor of the knights.

"Evan, halt the Humvee behind Centurion-1." On cue, Evan immediately swerved the Humvee to the right, following behind Centurion-1 before finally stopping together with the rest of the platoon, as they all began walking out of their vehicles, getting into half crouched position.

Lt. Mistral walked out of his Humvee, lowering his body, trying to not get spotted by the knights, walking at a jog speed towards Simon, currently observing the fields as he takes refuge behind a cluster of tall grasses, intently watching through his ACOG, not saying a word while Gunny Mays followed behind Lt. Mistral, carrying a thermal imaging device.

"Alright, what do we got here?" Crouching down next to his team leader, Lt. Mistral immediately asked him, to which Simon immediately answered.

"A whole-ass enemy camp, with a bunch of knights in it." Hearing this, Lt. Mistral snapped his head towards Gunny Mays, running behind him, gesturing at him to give him the thermal imaging device that he is carrying.

"I've checked it out, son of a bitch was massive." Gunny Mays immediately dropped down behind his superior, handing him the thermal imaging device in question, a PAS-13, to which Lt. Mistral immediately peered through as he watched the movement of the knights through the black and white vision of the device, unaware of their presence more than 5000 meters away from their encampment.

"That's quite massive, looks like a bunch of hot girls in knight armors with some guys in between, it's a shame they won't live to see another day. Sai, humor me, you think Centurion-1 and the CAAT can hit them from here?" Whistling at the sight, Lt. Mistral then turned his head towards Simon, inquiring him about the option of using the Abrams and anti-tank weaponry to attack the knights in question while still staying hidden.

"Sir, I'm sure the camp is out of the range for the 120mm guns of the tanks, let alone the TOW and Javelins that belong to the CAAT guys." Answering his question immediately, Simon replied in a monotone voice, still peering through his ACOG, before switching to his binoculars mid-way through, putting his M4A1 on his lap as he took a peek through the binoculars.

"Huh, alright then, I'm gonna hit them with arty." Lt. Mistral flatly said, before getting up on his feet as he heads back to his Humvee, his M4A1 slung behind him as he picks up the radio telephone on the dashboard of his Humvee, tuning it to the correct channel before calmly muttering.

"Grim Reaper, this is Hitman-2, Fire Mission, over….."

The Rose Order of Knights Camp, fields near Appia Highway (1310)

The sense of worry continues to fill her heart, it has been several days since Panache took off with her horse towards Italica, bearing the news of the arrival of reinforcements coming to rescue the trapped Princess Pina inside Italica. However, they haven't heard anything since Panache took off, no messengers, no refugees, nothing. Even Panache hasn't returned to them, which she was explicitly ordered to.

Bozes decided to establish a temporary camp here, as they try to find the correct way to Italica after getting lost, their main guide died after falling down from his horse, breaking his neck and killing him instantly. The event caused the knights to delay their movement to Italica, not helped by the fact they had gotten lost due to the Nobles' daughter not having any experience in navigation.

"Beefeater, I'm worried about…. Panache…" With a frown, Bozes solemnly remarked inside her tent, with Beefeater standing next to her, her hands on her hips. Bozes slowly turned towards her friend, sighing before speaking up.

"What do you think of me sending you to Italica? Maybe try making contact with the Princess and Panache?" Her request shocked her friend, who snapped her neck towards Bozes almost immediately, eyes widened.

"M'lady, are you serious? We are lost, have you forgotten?!" Blinking twice to get her point across, Beefeater asked Bozes in disbelief at the request, mouth agape at such mission, especially now that they're lost.

"Please, for the sake of Princess and our friend, just try using the highway, maybe you will get to Italica eventually." Bozes begged, her eyes staring into hers, causing her to rethink her decision, a minute of silence befalls on the tent, before Beefeater finally decided.

"Fine….. I will go." After a moment of thinking, Beefeater agreed, albeit reluctantly as she began walking out of the tent, accompanied by Bozes, trying to give her a reassuring smile.

Immediately after walking out of the tent, they were greeted by the sight of their fellow knights doing chores such as eating, talking, writing in their diary and more, as she continues to trail behind Beefeater, accompanying her as she approached her horse, getting on it, her dark purple hair standing out among the crowd of lighter colored hair.

"Send the Princess my regards." Bozes spoke up with a request, giving her friend a reassuring smile, to which Beefeater responded by simply smiling at her childhood friend, moving out as the horse began to jerk forward, heading in the direction of Italica. Bozes hoped that her friend won't get lost amidst the chaos over there, rumors began to sprang out few days ago, when they began seeing sword-like creature flying high in the sky, creating trail of straight clouds behind them, initially, everyone dismissed it as hallucination due to their lack of sleep, but then, they started appearing more and more often, even at night, perhaps confirming the rumors of other-worlder's wonder weapons.

Suddenly, a loud shriek filled the air around the camp, disrupting her train of thoughts as she looked up in the sky, trying to find the source of the noise, her action is mirrored by other knights as they too began looking upwards, squinting their eyes in an attempt to find the source of the noise. Suddenly, a loud explosion appeared out of nowhere right above Beefeater's horse, throwing Bozes several feet back due to the pressure, the deafening noise of the explosion echoing in her head.

She immediately composed herself, getting on her feet and taking a look at the source of the explosion, she then realized that blood is coming out of her stomach, the red liquid continues to ooze out of her guts as a result of her iron armor moving backwards due to the pressure, lightly impaling her. Ignoring this, she immediately snapped her head at the direction of Beefeater, widening her eyes in realization as she stares in horror at the corpse of her friend, the body mangled, maimed to the point of unrecognizable while the horse is completely turned into chunks of meat and organs covering whatever remains of Beefeater in river of bloods.

"Dear god….." She blankly mutters, not knowing what to do at the sight of her friend's mangled dead body, unfortunately, this would be her last thought, as more explosions began landing in the camp, sending dirt and shrapnel everywhere, killing Bozes and maiming anyone that happens to be close.

Everyone began running for cover, frantically running in every direction as they desperately tried to seek refuge against the explosions, some exploding in the air and some exploding in the ground, sending wooden splinters everywhere, instantly killing anyone that was standing near the explosion. It looks as if the field itself is erupting, not sparing anyone from the unknown explosion that would be preceded by an unholy shriek through the air, claiming more souls in its way. Order and discipline, the two things that The Rose Order of Knights prided themselves on, began to crumble before collapsing completely as everyone returned to their primal nature of survival.

MSR Tijuana, 1st Reconnaissance Battalion (1310)

"Message to observer, Charlie-Uniform Five-Niner-Six Seven-One-Three, Bravo, 7 rounds, VT in-effect, target number : Yankee-Oscar-Sierra Two-Zero-Five-Two, over."

"Charlie-Uniform Five-Niner-Six Seven-One-Three, Bravo, 7 rounds, VT in-effect, target number : Yankee-Oscar-Sierra Two-Zero-Five-Two, out."

"Direction 5800, over."

"Direction 5800, out."

"Splash in 15, 14, 13, 12, 11….."

The radio continues to cackle, courtesy of Lt. Mistral calling in a fire mission, conversing with the FDC, calmly taking a bite from a MRE Pretzel in-between the transmission, holding the radio telephone in his right hand while Simon and Gunny Mays calculate the range with their binoculars.

Soon enough, the artillery shells began to land, indicated by their loud shriek through the heavens, prompting everyone to look upwards, the Marines with good eyesight would occasionally spot the shells flying in the sky before exploding mid-air above a female horse rider, killing her and her horse, her mangled body can be seen afterward. The initial explosion is followed by more shells landing on the ground or exploding mid air, kicking up dust and sending shrapnel everywhere, organs and body parts fly high in the air, like a bee in a garden.

Nobody celebrates, as they continue to watch the show in silence, brilliant explosions continue to burst in the air, killing anyone below it with its pressure, strong enough to kill an elephant, on human, it essentially crushes their organs, turning them into blood and meat chunks followed by their body bursting apart, not being able to withstand the intense explosions. The silence is broken by Evan, speaking in a serious tone instead of his usual joking and cheerful attitude.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Evan solemnly said, patting Clancy's shoulder, not letting go of his gaze towards the encampment currently being bombarded by airburst and normal 155mm artillery shells as he points his finger at the explosions, reminding him of the firecrackers he'd see in broad daylight during Lunar New Year. Despite his initial statement, Evan stayed silent, his facial expression blank, not saying any words following his comment, his eyes fixated on a torn, red flag with a Rose emblem in the center.

Clancy meanwhile, stayed quiet, ignoring his friend patting his shoulder as he continued to watch as absolute chaos unfolds in front of his eyes, the occupants of the camp running away like ants being trampled on by a human child. Despite being agnostic, Clancy silently prayed inside his heart for the knights to have a quick, painless death by the artillery, not wanting to see them suffer.

Note :

Entrenching Tool - Shovel like device that Marines used to dig trenches and holes.

CAAT - Combined Anti Armor Team, those Humvees with TOW and stuff on them, usually led by either a Staff Sergeant or above, or Officers like Lieutenant.

VT - Variable Time Fuzes, basically another name for proximity fuzes or airburst round.

Wait one - indication that you'll reply in a moment.

PRR - Personal Role Radio, basically those headsets you see on British and US troops, only used by team leaders and officers in the Recon.

AN/PAS-13 - A name for a thermal imaging device, basically an important thing to have in a combat operation.

AN/PVS-17 - Night vision sight for rifles, basically a night vision, strapped on a M4A1 and the best part is you can use it during broad daylight, though you may need to tape it to prevent your eyes from going blind due to excess of light coming in.

SNCO - Staff Non-commissioned officer, basically enlisted Marines above the rank of Staff Sergeant.

MTVR - Medium Tactical Vehicle Replacement, trucks that Marines used to transport their needs like foods, medicines, ammos, spare parts blah blah something like that.

LSA - Lubricants used on heavy machine guns like Mark-19 and M2 Browning.

FDC - Fire Direction Center, middleman between the guy that called in artillery and the artillery itself.

2/5 - Short for 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment. If you see, for example, 1/7 or 2/1, you know what it means, similar to this.

RCT - I already mentioned it before, but in case you guys forgot, it stands for Regimental Combat Team, basically normal Marine Regiment with extra units attached like LAVs, engineers and tanks. (For example, 5th Marine Regiment with extra units is called RCT-5, 7th Marine Regiment with extra units is called RCT-7, 1st Marine Regiment with extra unit is RCT-1 and so on, you'll figure it out yourself)

Arty - Short for artillery.

SNCO - Staff Non-Commissioned Officer, Senior NCOs or career Marines who normally serve as supervisors, assistants and technical advisors to commissioned officers.

Special thanks to Lewistern and CapitalistPaintrPyro/lunaticthatreads for proofreading and helping me correct grammatical mistakes.