"Are you really, REALLY sure? Seriously, I mean-"

Mostima's unnaturally worried voice was cut off by a herd of packed burdenbeasts being hurried off the streets by a group of armed sankta. Stationed all around the monastery, the famed Pontifica Cohors Lateran had an inland base of operations inside. A place where many gathered to enlist.

"... Yeah, I'm sure. Hundred percent. Besides, it's just a year of service, then they send you back home. With your pockets full, too."

"They only send you back if you survive. Corpses stay."

Andy scoffed and nonchalantly flicked his hand.

"C'mon, why wouldn't I? They keep saying on the radio that it's just simple peacekeeping. Minimal casualties."

"And you honestly believe that?"

He tilted his head, thinking her words through. He had no reason not to believe the words of the Lawful.

"Yeah. Yeah, I've already decided, I'm going."

With an exasperated click of her tongue, she turned to Lemuel, who had her eyes glued to a poster of a gun knight, adorning the monastery's wall.

"Lem? You gonna do anything? Seriously, talk some sense into this moron, I swear..."

The redhead finally laid her eyes off the gun wielding combatant and spoke up.

"... I'm fine with it."

Everything turned to silence.

...

"What?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with it. If Andy wants to serve the Law, then... Then that's fine by me."

She gave him a toothy grin.

"Besides, I think it's really cool! I'd go with you, but my mom would kill me."

Andy smiled back at her. Seems like she understood him. At least partially. His reasoning for wanting to join the fight wasn't nearly as religious as she thought it was.

"Thanks, Lem."

Mostima kept glancing between the two, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Are you joking? You're encouraging him?"

"Mhm. As long as he sends me a postcard from Kazdel."

Andy and Lem exchanged a quick chuckle.

"No, but it's... It's not... Sightseeing, it's a war, you morons, it's..."

She went silent for a moment, desperation fading into helplessness. It took her a second or two before she gathered herself enough to look at Andy, again.

"... Fine, It's your choice. I'm just hoping they don't let you pass recruitment."

She flinched as he gave her a calming pat on the shoulder, content that she's finally given up her constant yapping. She's been like this the entire week. He could feel the ever growing frustration through her halo.

"It'll be fine. I'll make it back home for university, yeah?"

"..."

"... Huh? University, huh? C'mon..."

Andy gently nudged her ribs with his elbow, trying to get her to budge.

"... University, yeah, sure. Go on, then. Go, enlist, if you wanna leave so bad."

There was nothing but hurt and powerlessness in her voice, as she mumbled her last words. She's truly given up. Without a proper goodbye, she turned away and just… walked off, leaving Andy and Lemuel behind. They exchanged a glance and a shrug.

"She's really not taking this well."

"She's… you know how she is. But it's fine by me! You're gonna kick those devils' as-... butts, Andy! I know it!~"

She gave him one more beaming smile and a thumbs up, before turning to run after their blue haired friend.

"Just drop by before you leave! I'll pack you some apple pie for the road!~ Oh, and write a lot! And remember my postcard! And take a lot of pictures! And-..."

Her loud voice faded into the loud bustle of the busy street as she ran after Mostima. Once again, Andy was left all alone. Just one thing left to do now.

He pushed the monastery's door aside, taking a hesitant step forward. It was definitely less packed than he had thought it would be. The furniture seemed to have been hastily rearranged, prayer pews shoved to the side to make space for crates covered in white silks. Around ten tables stood in the middle of the atrium, with a Lateran official behind each one of them. In front of them, piles of documents. To the side, large, ever growing piles of grayish fabrics. Upon examining them closer, Andy realized that they were in fact military uniforms. A loud, mechanical clicking kept assaulting his ears as he made his way through the hall, sitting in front of one of the recruiters. A rather young, yet awfully tired woman of sankta descent.

Only when he sat down, she turned away from her scribblings and raised an eyebrow.

"Here to enlist?"

Her voice carried a hint of surprise. It was barely audible over the constant clicking.

clack, clack, clack,

"Yep."

clack, clack, clack,

"Aren't you a bit young?"

clack, clack, clack,

"I don't think so."

clack, clack, clack,

She gave him a thorough look-over.

"... Name?"

clack, clack, clack,

"Andrew Reiff."

clack, clack, clack,

"Age?"

clack, clack, clack,

"How old do I have to be to enlist?"

clack, clack, clack,

"Fifteen."

clack, clack, clack,

"Fifteen, then."

clack, clack, clack,

"You don't look fifteen."

He felt his cheeks getting slightly warmer than usual.

"I have a gun, though."

clack, clack, clack,

"Doesn't change the fact you're not fifteen."

clack, clack, clack,

She wasn't buying it.

"... I can shoot well, too."

clack, clack, clack,

They stared each other down before the ominous mechanical clicking turned to a happy "clink!"

A fresh batch of military rags fell from the ceiling and onto the mountain of fabric. Andy turned to look at the mechanism. Connected to the room above. He caught a glimpse of one of the uniforms up close. Torn and patched up hastily. Gray, like ash. Old. Worn. Deep, crimson stains trailing along the messy suture.

The recruiter gave a tired sigh. Tired of this mountain constantly growing, piling up, threatening to bury her underneath. Tired of having to tear off the old, familiar name tags before handing these rags out. Tired of the fact that more and more kept coming back, each day, each hour, each minute.

"... You said you were fifteen?"

clack, clack, clack,

"Yes, ma'am."

clack, clack, clack,

"..."

clack, clack, clack,

She scribbled something down in her notebook.

"Address?"

clack, clack, clack,

"Uh... Strudel Street 13, by the cinamm-... I mean, the communal building by the antique shop."

clack, clack, clack,

She closed her notebook and took a set of uniform from the pile. Having thoroughly checked the insides, she handed it to him. That's one more drop of oil for the machine. Another soul gone. She wasn't paid to ask questions or play judge, she was paid to fulfill a quota.

"Pack up when you get home, you'll get the rest on site. You're leaving tomorrow."

The clacking seemed to have stopped at that very moment. At least for Andy. He was mesmerized by the sad, gray uniform.

"Yes ma'am."

The white lining along the sleeves, the abundance of pockets on the chest and sides... All that was missing was a cool patch with his rank on the shoulder, he thought to himself. Colonel major Reiff, reporting for duty! Such joy filled him, that he couldn't help but grin.

He left the clicking atrium behind and made his way back home. The streets were silent. Everything was silent.

...

Hiding the uniform underneath his jacket, Andy carefully entered the communal building, trying to make the least noise possible. His dad was most likely locked away in The Den, anyway, but you never know.

"... Hey, Drew."

Andy jumped in surprise, almost scattering the rags all across the hallway. He took a step back and hit his halo on the doorframe, again.

"H-Hey, dad! You're, uh...?"

"I was out. Out and about, delivering my scribbles to, uh... "Quotide Auditor", that newspaper."

His father forced a smile, seemingly proud that a struggling press company wanted his amazing poems in their dying paper.

"A-Ah. Ah, that's... That's cool, dad."

Andy gave a slight a nod, trying his best to cover up the uniform underneath his jacket.

...

They were locked in a staring contest, neither one knowing what else to say. His dad cleared his throat and spoke up,

"So, How was school?"

"School?... Oh, it's summer, dad."

His face went pale at Andy's response.

"... Right. Summer break, then. How's that going?"

"It's... It's going, dad. It's going."

Again, silence filled the room. Andy was praying to the Law itself, begging for the uniform to remain unseen.

"... I'll just leave you to, uh... To it, then."

"Okay."

"Okay, Drew?"

"Okay, dad."

Andy nodded, flashing a nervous smile. By the Law, let this hell just end already, please...

His dad kept staring at him for a few moments before turning away to leave. The den's door closed behind him and Andy could finally let out a relieved sigh. Close call.

He hurried off to his room and slid underneath the bed. The loose plank took just a small nudge to come off, revealing a tiny space underneath. There laid the revolver and a few cartridges that were left from their night out by the peach orchard. He haphazardly shoved the uniform inside and threw the plank back on. Secured, for now.

Just a day more and he'll be gone. He'll come back after a year with enough cash to buy himself a ticket into a nice university, right along Lemuel and Mostima and his life will finally take on some sort of course...

He couldn't sleep that night. The prospect of finally finding some sort of purpose and establishing some plan had him excited beyond belief. Tomorrow, changes would come. Big changes. He'd welcome them with open arms, though. He wasn't afraid of them, for once.

Changes for the better. And only the better. No more aimless wandering towards a dead end.

At four in the morning they almost bust down the door.