Witch of the Eighty-Sixth

by contrastellar

There is no such thing as a clean war, and for those who know the secrets of this battlefield — what else could this life be, than a Curse?

7. Chapter 6

August 30, SY 2149

They had marched along the tracks westward, towards the Gran Mur. It had been quiet, yet everyone among the Witch and the VALKYRIEs that followed her, were on their toes the entire time, their eyes wide and watching for any sign that they had been ambushed or were walking towards a pack of Legion that perhaps someone else may have missed. But alas, in the time that they followed the Witch, they didn't find anything. Not even glints on the horizon of the Legion. Perhaps, the Witch thought, this was because most of the Legion in this area were already inside the walls, and they were just lagging behind them. But she didn't think much about it, instead, focusing on the hike forward.
Come the second evening of their hike towards the Gran Mur following the railroad tracks, and not seeing the walls on the horizon — the Witch and her followers began to start looking for a place to camp for the evening. The Witch kept an eye out, and didn't break formation, instead trusting the followers to use the Para-RAID to talk to Bluebird — Sabina — in the front of the convoy of Processors, who would lead them to wherever it was that they were going to camp for the evening. As the sun set behind the western hills, the Witch started to get a sense of deja vu from the terrain, the rolling hills, and the grassy, un-forested land began to look more and more familiar to her, despite the logic in her mind, telling her that she had never been in this particular place before.
Yet, as they moved forward and forward into the dusk that came — the hills did become more and more familiar to her. And the bank of the railroad tracks that they followed, did begin to become more familiar to her as well. It wasn't long before she came across a familiar sight, in this unfamiliar place.
It was the town that she and Pharact had encountered one another in. The town where they had made their promise to one another, and she had yet to be able to make good on that promise. Since the dissolution of the SPEARHEAD that she knew — was certain that there wouldn't be any possibility that he would be able to keep his end of the bargain.
Sabina's Bluebird began to slow in front of the Witch, and from her perspective, it looked like Sabina was indicating to her that they were going to stop in the town instead of continuing just the few hundred meters ahead to Spearhead's base, where there would be the certainty of beds, at least. The Witch stopped her Juggernaut in place, and waited for Sabina herself to stop after a moment's lag — when she turned around, the Witch opened her canopy, and then Sabina did the same.
"Let's keep moving. We're nearby the First Ward's base." The Witch said with enough volume to communicate it across the space and over the noise of the Juggernauts' engines.
Sabina simply responded with a face that read of mild confusion, before nodding. Sabina closed the canopy of her Juggernaut, and turned back around, leading the way on the tracks. The Witch followed suit, following behind Sabina on the tracks, until they rounded the hill, and SPEARHEAD's base came into view. Her heart was solemn as she laid eyes on the simple barracks and nearby hangars.
Sabina led the way toward the hangar, before stopping. The Witch followed her lead, not entering the hangar, but instead stopping outside of it, and shutting down her Juggernaut, the humming that had been in the background of her mind for the entire day so far, fading away, leaving her with an eerie silence that permeated the world as she opened the canopy of Aerial — and it was only then that the smell hit her nose.
She knew the smell, and knew it well — the putrid smell of rot and decay that came with decomposing bodies. She'd smelt it before, when she would return to battlefields days or weeks after losing compatriots there. And now it was here, in SPEARHEAD's base. She unharnessed herself from her Juggernaut, and stood up with shaky, stiff legs from piloting for the last several hours. The smell only got worse when she dismounted Aerial, and approached the hangar, in the direction of where Sabina's Juggernaut was. It didn't take long for her to put two and two together, and realize that the smell was coming from inside the hangar. She didn't dare look inside it herself. Sabina simply shook her head, seemingly unfazed by the smell. There was a reason she had parked outside the hangar, rather than inside it, and The Witch figured it out well enough. If anything, the smell was coming from those who didn't have Juggernauts themselves to pilot, or couldn't pilot — the maintenance crew of SPEARHEAD. The Witch didn't know them, since they had taken a look at her, and the rest of LFRITH's Juggernauts in the time when they were supposed to be resting that one time. So she didn't get a chance to meet them.
She instead, turned around to the rest of the VALKYRIEs who had followed her, and motioned at the barracks. "They probably left any supplies in there." She said, despite the faces that the VALKYRIEs made at the smell. Fortunately, with the still air, the smell of rot hadn't reached the barracks yet. Maybe if the wind swung a particular direction, it might. The Witch hoped that it wouldn't — it would make spending time in the remnants of SPEARHEAD's base that much worse. It made the most sense that there would be something left inside the barracks, and so she, and the twelve VALKYRIEs moved towards the barracks. The Witch was in the middle of the group of Processors as they walked the meters towards the barracks, and wasn't at all surprised that it was one of the Platoon leaders who made it to the door of the Barracks first. The door was open, as if the people inside had left in a hurry and forgotten to close it before they left.
Once inside the barracks, they split up, searching them for anything useful. The Witch didn't head towards the kitchen with the rest — she instead went with the few who didn't want to search the kitcken, towards the upstairs, where most of the personal rooms and shared bunks were. She and the few that went upstairs split up, taking the rooms in thirds to search for anything useful. Most of the rooms were tidy, almost completely barren of any indication at all that there had been people in the barracks prior to the base being abandoned. The Witch took the furthest rooms down the hall, which would've been reserved for SPEARHEAD's captain, and their XO. Shinei Nouzen and Raiden Shuga respectively. She wondered how they died, in a fleeting moment, and didn't dwell on that thought. It would hurt too much if she thought about how someone like the Reaper of the Eastern Front had died.
She shuddered in dismissal of the thought, and opened the door to the Captain's room, and found it barren of anything useful. Of course she hadn't gotten a glimpse of the inside when she had been here during the Reaper's tenure, meaning that whoever had come after him, had kept the room barren, almost spartan in its absence of anything indicating that it was anything more than a bedroom.
There was a scuffling of boots from down the hallway, and then shouts of words that she couldn't quite understand. She turned in reaction to the shouts, down the hallway, and saw there were two of the girls of the VALKYRIEs, both of whom she recognized as being from the E Platoon, and one of which was the Leader of said platoon. Both holding their hands in the air as if surrendering. The Witch's heart immediately dropped in her chest, and her throat tightened. She reached for her pistol on her leg, and drew it as silently as she could, taking quiet steps towards the room down the hall that the two girls were standing at. Neither made any indication that they noticed her approach, with her gun leveled at the doorframe that they were standing in front of, their hands were still raised in surrender. She realized as she drew closer to the door, and crossed in front of the staircase that they had ascended not that long ago, that Sabina had also drawn her pistol, and was coming up the stairs. The Witch took her left hand and motioned at Sabina to stay put, who immediately stopped, the two VALKYRIEs behind her, pistols both drawn, stopping as well. It seemed that everyone in the barracks had heard the shouting.
The Witch took a wary step closer, and made a judgement call, her pistol moving from pointing at the doorframe, to the wall to the side of it. She wasn't sure if the bullet would penetrate the material of the barrack's walls, but it would serve as a deterrent nonetheless if the person or thing threatening the two girls made a move that she didn't like.
"Who the hell are you?!" She shouted over the person shouting, whose words were still incomprehensible, either from the blood rushing in her ears, or the words themselves were not something that the Witch understood.
"Who the hell am I?! Who the fuck are you?!" The voice responded, shouting, yet shaky.
It was a voice that The Witch recognized, even through the shakiness, but she wasn't sure. "How about this, we both sound human, yeah? Why don't we just both put our guns down, and then talk this out like humans, rather than pointing our guns at one another." She said in a more calm, less shouting tone. "But first, why don't you tell me your name?"
"I don't have one!"
"Well, how about your personal name?"
"Heh, really? How would I expect you to believe me even if I told you."
"Come on, we're all Eighty-Six. We don't need to be doing this." The Witch said, her gun still level at the wall, beyond which she was sure she was aimed at the person's center mass. She didn't want to have to shoot them.
"…Fine… I'm Pharact."
"Bullshit." The Witch said reflexively.
"See? How would you believe me?"
"No, you see, Pharact would've been dead by now. They either went on the Special Recon Mission, or died before it."
"Well, I fucking didn't, so what's up with that? Besides, what's yours?"
"I'm Aerial, but most people call me the Witch…" There was a silence. "How about this, since we both don't seem to believe one another, why don't we both drop our magazines, and I'll round the corner, that way we only have one bullet each. My people don't have to die here because neither of us believe one another."
"They move after you do."
"Deal."
The Witch thumbed the magazine release for her pistol, a thud resonating through the hallway as the weight of it hit the ground. After a moment, a similar thud resounded from inside the room. "Alright, I'm rounding the corner." She took weary steps forward, making sure to keep her pistol leveled, and then rounding the corner, her body between the two surrendering VALKYRIEs. The man in the room they stood in front of, shifted shakily, but reflexively as she did, both his gun, and the gun she held in her hands, pointed at one another. She recognized the face of the man who stood in the room, a rifle leveled at her, and its magazine at his feet. But she didn't say anything. "Now my people move." The man nods, rifle still pointed at the Witch.
The two girls behind her take steps back from the doorway, retreating back down the hallway a ways, before both drawing their sidearms as well. The Witch saw this happen through the corner of her vision.
"Alright, Pharact. Let's talk about this." He was shaky on his feet, the Witch could tell that much at a glance. Almost like he was sick, or had some other affliction that she couldn't quite see.
"Who the hell were those two? They weren't LFRITH." Now that she got a good look at Pharact, she could tell that he was panicked.
"They're from VALKYRIE Squadron, I came across them a couple days ago, and they agreed to come with me, towards the Gran Mur."
"Why the Gran Mur?"
"…Haven't you heard?"
"No, I haven't… My Para-RAID's been busted for… A while." He held a rifle, that was pointed at her, and it made her all the more anxious that he was as shaky as he was about holding it.
"I've got a question for you, before I explain everything?" The Witch offered.
"Hell, shoot." The irony of the statement was not lost on the Witch.
"What happened to you?"
"We… SPEARHEAD… Got ambushed on a suicide mission, ultra-long-range cannon. I was almost hit, and it blew apart my Juggernaut, but I somehow survived. But it busted my damn Para-RAID… I had to walk all the way back to base... It took us days by Juggernaut to get there, so it took way longer to get back here. And once I did, the place was abandoned and the Hangar was full of bodies of the Maintenance crew…" He explained, his voice shaking as he did, whether from his affliction, or from emotion, the Witch wasn't sure. "How about you? What the hell happened to LFRITH?"
"We got dwindled down over the last year, and then a few days ago we got ambushed by an ultra-long-range artillery shot, same as you. I got separated from my Squadron, and my Para-RAID's busted too."
"So how the hell did you know to go to the Gran Mur?"
"I got the message before we were attacked… From your handler. Major Milizé?"
"Heh, so the Reaper was right… That explains the bodies."
"Alright, now that we're on the same page, how about we both put down our guns?" The Witch offered, saying it loud enough that everyone can hear her. "I'll get my crew outside to also stow theirs, and we can all talk about this over some rations and supplies, rather than at gunpoint?"
"…Fuck it. Sure… But how do I know you're not some new-type of Legion?"
"Because I know that you go by Fives, Pharact, and you had an old comrade named 'Four', from a previous squadron. And we made a promise to one another… And while I haven't been able to keep that promise yet, I still plan on doing so." The Witch said. "Would a Legion unit know all of that?"
"…No, I suppose not. On the count of three?"
The Witch nodded, understanding that he refers to lowering her weapon.
"One. Two. Three."
At the two, the Witch started to lower her weapon, and Pharact matched her. Through the corner of her vision, the Witch saw that the VALKYRIEs do the same. She dropped her weapon to her side, before placing it back in her leg holster. In lieu of having a holster for his rifle, Pharact set his rifle down on the bed nearby. Immediately, the tension in the barracks goes away, and the Witch takes a weary step towards Pharact, who placed his palm against his eye socket, slumping down against the bed that doesn't have a rifle laying on it.
"Are you okay?"
"I feel like shit…" He said, and in the moonlight pouring in from the window, she can see how pale he looks, even without the moonlight's tinting. "I caught something, and then also have this fucking migraine." He groaned. Leaning against the bed, The Witch looked him over, looking checking to see if there were any other signs of sickness. When she noticed that one of his hands had been hastily bandaged.
"What's this?" She asked, pointing at his hand.
"I cut myself in a town trying to find supplies to get back here… I started feeling like shit shortly after."
"Is it alright if I…?" The Witch asked, and Pharact nodded. From the corner of her vision, the Witch sees the VALKYRIEs huddled around the door, watching The Witch and Pharact as The Witch undoes the bandage around his hand. She winced when she saw it, even in the low light of the moon. "Bluebird — do we have antibiotics and pain meds?"
"We do." Sabina responded.
"Good, go get some, and some antiseptic if we have that as well."
Pharact groaned again, not looking at his own wound, but realizing that the pain that would come with the cleaning of the cut on his hand.
The Witch waited the couple of minutes it took before one of the VALKYRIEs returned with the requested supplies. The Witch offered him the antibiotics first, which he took and then swallowed on a dry throat, wincing as he did, then she gave him the pain medication, which he took in much the same way. While he took the second portion of medication, The Witch took the bottle of antiseptic, and prepared to pour it on his hand, before she did, with his free hand, Pharact grabbed a nearby pillow, and bit down on a corner of it, in preparation for the pain of the cleaning of the cut.
"Three, two, one." The Witch counted down, before she poured the antiseptic onto his wound, and he immediately groaned into the pillow, his eyes slammed shut from the pain. He tried pulling his hand away, but The Witch held his wrist and hand firm, and before long, she had finished treating the wound, before someone in the VALKYRIEs offered an actual bandage, rather than the makeshift one that he had been using. The Witch tore it open, and applied it over the wound, Pharact still groaning into the pillow as she did.'
"Fuck, that hurts, you know?" Pharact said, spitting out the pillow.
"Better than risking a worse infection." The Witch pointed out.
Pharact put on a small, shaky grin, "Yeah, fair enough."
"How about you rest, you had any food lately?" The Witch offered.
"Yeah, just before you lot showed up."
"Good, then what you're going to do is rest, let those meds do their work, and then we'll talk in the morning, alright?"
"Fuck, fine… Sounds better than keeping my eyes open with this damn migraine." Pharact responded.
"Good, we'll leave you be then." The Witch said, helping Pharact back to his feet, and then laying down on the bed that didn't have a rifle laying on it.
"Fuck, guess I owe you one, huh?" Pharact said, and when the Witch turned around to look at him, he had his arm laying across his eyes, and he had a grin on his face.
"Maybe. Rest, now." The Witch said, closing the door behind her as she left the room.
Once she closed the door, and turned to the VALKYRIEs standing in the hallway, all in various states of confusion.
"Witch, who was that?" Sabina asked.
"A friend I thought I lost."

August 31, SY 2149
In the morning, the VALKYRIEs and the Witch woke up to silence. There were no birds, no sounds of the winds whistling through the base. It was eerily silent in this base. As if the world itself had decided to mourn the loss of the SPEARHEAD that the Witch knew before their ordered march to death. The Witch knew better than to believe that thought, she knew better than to believe that the world cared so much at all for humankind, and what it did to itself. In the cosmic scale of the planet, and the life on it, the last decade of human suffering at the hands of the Legion and then the hands of the Republic — the world had marched on. Animals still lived their lives despite the lack of humans or Legion in some territories, trees still grew, even with undetonated shells implanted in them. Vines grew over abandoned buildings and the wreckage of long-abandoned Juggernauts, birds made nests next to those unexploded ordinance shells, deer walked harmlessly past landmines, snakes slithered between the legs of the Legion. The world simply didn't care about humans or its creations and sins. Time marched on, and with it, life.
The Witch lay in the bed that she had commandeered from its absent occupant, and listened for a while. To the silence of early dawn, to her thoughts, and it was in those minutes that she came to a conclusion. A conclusion about why she truly believed that her Squadron would've made it back to the Gran Mur, and gone to fight alongside Bloody Regina. She thought about them. And hoped with her whole heart that Darilbalde, Ür, Monarch, Tomcat, and Noel were alive still. She wasn't sure if they had found Fallen Crow, and was sure that Dante had been killed, and if she hadn't been, would've absolutely been taken by the Legion in the meanwhile. Her hope then, was that Dante had been killed, and if Fallen Crow hadn't been killed instantly by the attack, that he would've been rescued by the other survivors. She hated herself for the fact that she had been separated from her team, and by now, had no way of knowing if they had survived. She hated this, not knowing if those people closest to her, possibly for as long as she could remember, besides her own family, might be dead, and she might never know the truth of how they died.
There was a knock at the door to her room. She shot up from laying on her back, and immediately swung her feet from the bed to the floor, and then crossed the space to the door. She cracked it open slightly, enough to peek out of it, and see who it was that wanted her at this point in the morning. The person beyond the door had the features of an Iola, and stood nearly at attention, as if apologizing for waking up a superior officer.
"What is it, Sabina?"
"Pharact is awake, and he's asking for you downstairs in the kitchen." Sabina reported, her voice level, and volume respectful to those few members of the VALKYRIEs who were still asleep.
"I see… I'll be there in a minute." The Witch said, and closed the door. She turned back around to the bed that she had used, only slept on top of, and slipped on her boots, lacing them up with practiced motions. Standing up, she pulled on her uniform jacket, straightening it out against herself. It was just a moment or two, before she walked across the room again, and opened the door to the hallway, and stepped foot into it, walking towards the stairs as she left the room behind. There were no worries about having left something behind. She hadn't brought anything with her into the room that wasn't on her person, and had only taken off her uniform jacket in the night, too anxious about possibly having a late-night sortie against the Legion. That sortie never came.
She descended the stairs, to the first level of the barracks that they had slept in, and made her way to the kitchen, where the smell of food being cooked reached her nose well before she ever pushed open the door to the kitchen. She opened the door, and the scent of food being cooked became all the more stronger. Although, the sight that she saw once she had oepene dthe door was all the more surprising. Pharact stood in front of one of the stovetops, using the residual gas to heat up the contents of a variety of MREs that he had sourced — while Sabina stood nearby, mixing something in a bowl. Both looked in her direction as The Witch entered the kitchen.
"Well, you're looking better." The Witch said, taking note of Pharact's face looking less pale than it did the night before.
"Yeah, those antibiotics worked a lot better than I thought they would." Pharact commented. Sabina stayed silent as the two talked.
"What did you want to see me for?" The Witch asked.
"Well, first of all, before we get started — want any coffee? I managed to scrounge up enough packets from the MREs for everyone." Pharact motioned at the counter behind him, where a pile of coffee packets were stacked, and a plethora of mugs behind that.
The Witch smiled, "Sure."
Pharact moved around some things on the stovetop, before looking back at the Witch, who recognized that he had placed a scavenged kettle on the active burner, and moved a pan of something else, the source of the smell, to the side.
The Witch looked at the mess-area, where a few of the VALKYRIEs were seated, waiting yet talking among themselves. While she looked, one of the Lieutenants that she recognized, and another girl, walked into the room, taking seats next to their comrades, but more pointedly, next to each other. The Witch watched them for a moment, before the kettle on the stovetop started whistling, and Pharact moved it from the burner, to a different spot, replacing the pan again. While the pan heated up once more, he turned around, and opened one of the coffee packets, pouring the contents into a mug, before turning back to the kettle, mug in hand. He poured hot water into the mug, before handing it to the Witch. Who thanked him quietly for it. "Sabina, right?" He asked, and Sabina nodded. "Mind taking over from here?" Sabina nodded again, quietly taking Pharact's place in front of the stovetop as he led the Witch out from the kitchen, to the mess, and then sitting down at a table a bit farther away from the rest of the VALKYRIEs.
"What now?"
"I wanted to know what the hell is going on."
The Witch blinked at this, before taking a sip of her still-hot coffee. The taste was bitter, and didn't taste much like what she thought coffee should taste like. But it was better than just drinking hot water. Not by much, but it still was.
"I guess it depends on if you got sent on the Special Reconnaissance Mission or not."
"I didn't."
"Then that's where the rest of SPEARHEAD went." The Witch explained, and Pharact sighed, seeming to slouch a little in his chair at this. "I don't know about the new SPEARHEAD, but I'd assume they went towards the Gran Mur."
"Why there?" Pharact asked.
"There's a large-scale Legion offensive going on. They're inside the walls. And one Bloody Regina — I guess she'd be Captain Milizé now — has asked all Processors to come inside the walls to try and stem the tide of Legion... I'd assume you hadn't heard because your Para-RAID…"
Pharact reached a hand up to his right ear, where a ear cuff should've been, but was absent. "How about you? Yours is missing too."
"I heard it before I got attacked… Some kind of ultra-long-range attack."
"Ah. You got hit by the same bullshit I did." Pharact said, sitting up a bit in his seat. "Super-long range attack. Only reason I survived was Undertaker telling us all to scatter."
"You still got hit? And survived?"
"Grazing shot. Sent me flying and slammed me into a nearby building, which slagged my Juggernaut's legs, and broke my Para-RAID. I had to hoof it back to base on foot. But this was a multi-day hike in a Juggernaut to get there. So it took me… A while… To get back here."
"When did you get back?" The Witch asked.
"Just a couple days ago. It took a long time to move around Legion formations. I spent a couple months hiding out in that town that we found you lot in, before making the final burst to here. But that's also where I cut my hand." He explained. "Especially moving during the colder months without the right gear was risky. There were some supplies, and I made do."
"That's a hell of a story, Pharact."
He nods in acknowledgement, and shrugs, as if to say 'it's the truth'. "What about you, miss Witch? You're the only familiar face around, where's the rest of your crew?"
The Witch sighed. "Darilbalde, Monarch and Ür — who you haven't met — Tomcat and Noel… And myself, we're all that's left of LFRITH."
"Shit, for real?"
"We had eight of us the night of the Large-Scale Offensive, and now…" Her breath caught in her throat, and she forced herself to take a deep breath.
"So you lost two to the ultra-long-range bastard?" The Witch nodded. "I'm sorry, that's really rough."
The two sit in silence for a while, before Pharact spoke up again.
"Are you really headed towards the Gran Mur?"
"Wh-why wouldn't I be? That's where I ordered LFRITH to go, before we got separated." The Witch explained.
Pharact smiles a bit, before looking down at the table between them. "I just figure, you're heading right towards the hornet's nest, and you've only got so many people that you don't know, as backup."
"Maybe. But it's better than trying to scavenge out here on our own while the White Pigs bite it… They've got things we need, yknow? How else would we get MREs?"
"That's fair…"
"Why do you ask that?"
"I'm just trying to figure out my next move… What without a Juggernaut and all, I'm pretty much screwed."
"Yeah…"
The two sit in more silence, waiting for one another to break it.
"…If you did have a Juggernaut, what would you do?" The Witch asked, taking another sip, from her now much-cooler coffee.
"I think I'd probably follow you and your VALKYRIEs or whatever they call themselves... Safety in numbers and all that."
"Makes sense."
"That's what I figure too. But alas, I'm up shit creek, no paddle."
"So what do you want to do now?"
"Stick it out here, probably. There's no room in anyone else's Juggernaut, and I'd hate to separate these lovely people from one another by taking one of their Juggernauts." He shrugged. "I roughed it for almost a year. I can rough it out for a while longer, until you send me some help."
"M-me?"
"Yeah, you, dummy." Pharact said with a grin. "You're gonna go save the goddamned world, aren't you?"
The Witch stammers something out that sounds like an apology, despite not having anything to apologize for. Pharact laughs. "Besides, you've still gotta keep your end of the bargain… Speaking of — I do have something for you… If you're up for hearing it."
The Witch's eyes widen with this. "A-about my sister?"
"Yeah."
The Witch looks down at her mug of coffee, unsure of what to even say at this. She wants to know, but in the same moment, is just as terrified to know anything about her… Surely by this point she'd be dead — and the Witch had long since accepted that, but that didn't mean that she knew, or even was prepared for the whole story. Especially not given the circumstances that she was currently in. Yet, there was still some part of her that burned to know. To have some way of connecting back to her family, to something that had been taken from her — despite her best efforts. She wanted to know so badly that it felt like it might burn her alive to know, but that didn't mean that she was any less scared of knowing.
"T-tell me…" The Witch said, looking up from her mug, and with a found confidence that she didn't feel, but needed herself to feel.
"I heard this from Undertaker… About a legend in the Southern Theater. The red-haired Specter of the South. She made it to her fifth year, and was sent to RAZOR EDGE, which is their front's SPEARHEAD. Legend has it that she had survived two previous squadrons, by getting disconnected from her Handler twice, and being presumed dead, before showing back up at her old squadron's base when the new Squadron members would show up. She did that twice, somehow."
"You said her personal name was Specter?"
"Yeah, I have no idea what her real name is though, sorry about that…" The Witch almost looks solemn at that, "But according to Undertaker, who heard all this from somewhere else. She had red hair, like yours, and despite all that shit with disappearing and being presumed dead — managed to survive until her own Special Recon Mission. Sorry I don't have more for you."
"No no, that's okay…" The Witch said, placatingly. "It's still way more than you needed to tell me…" Her face contorted for a moment in emotion, before returning to the more placating, yet calm look she had before. "I'm sorry I don't have anything for you about Norea."
Pharact smirked. "That's okay, you're still alive, and that means you can still hold up your end."
The Witch smiled at that. "Fair enough."
"With that out of the way at least. I'd like for you to leave me at least some supplies before you take off. I imagine you're not going to want to stick around here that long when you need to get moving for the Gran Mur."
The Witch shook her head. "You're probably right… We should get moving soon here."
"Then its a good thing Sabina looks like she's about done with breakfast. And you'll be able to get a move on after that."
The Witch nods, and stands up, moving to help Sabina serve the eggs and MREs to the VALKYRIEs, all of whom are awake now, the smell of food rousing them from their slumber. Pharact follows, giving his own help to Sabina, passing out the MREs while The Witch and Sabina take care of the eggs. Once this is done, The Witch and Pharact return to their seats, return to the Witch's now-cooled cup of coffee, with their own plates of food.
The Witch and Pharact eat quietly, having said all that needs to be said between them at this moment. Leaving them with nothing but the food and the cooled cup of coffee. Neither feels a need to break the silence between them, and neither says anything until it is time to clean up the dishes. Pharact offering to take the Witch's plate.
"It's probably better that you go start your inspections of your Juggernaut. I can take care of the dishes." He smiled. And the Witch stood up, thanking him, but still helped him collect everyone's plates, instructing them to go start their inspections and preparations for the day's hike.
The Witch was practically shoo'd out of the kitchen by Pharact, telling her to go start her own preparations. And she did, begrudgingly.
Stepping outside of the Barracks, the smell of wet grass, and the feeling of dew threatening to form in the air greeted her. She hadn't realized how cold it had gotten overnight, and how there was dew on the grass as she walked towards the hangars. There was a soft breeze, flowing away from the Juggernauts, towards the Hangars — preventing the smell of rot from reaching her nose as she inspected her Juggernaut's legs, climbed inside, and started to check its systems, while watching to make sure everyone else wasn't running into issues either.
Before an hour had elapsed, she had finished all her inspections, as thouroughly as she could possibly do, making up for the days where she hadn't inspected every system, leaving some of them alone in hopes that they wouldn't fail on her. She slid out from the canopy of her Juggernaut, and looked around at the VALKYRIEs, who were standing around, doing much of nothing except waiting for the signal that it was time to leave. She got a glimpse of movement from the corner of her vision, in the direction of the Barracks — and looked to see Pharact walking towards them, hands in his pockets and a rifle slung over his shoulder as he walked, looking around at the terrain, as if surveying it for any hostilities. The Witch was all but certain there were no Legion out here — they would be easy pickings, standing outside their Juggernauts, if there were Legion.
"Ready to go?" He asked, as he approached the Witch — who nodded her response. "That's good, hey, thanks for finding me. I figured that there was a decent chance that I might've died out here without anyone finding me. So I appreciate it."
"We'll do our best to send some kind of rescue for you as soon as we can." The Witch assured him.
He shrugged at this. "If you do or don't, it's no skin off my back. Probably better if whoever you send doesn't sneak up on me while I'm sick."
"Speaking of sick…" The Witch turned to Sabina, who was standing nearby. "Can we leave him some of our meds?"
She nodded, and turned around to her Juggernaut, reaching into the canopy and pulling out a first-aid kit, returning to where the Witch and Pharact stand. "Should be enough to keep you alive for a bit."
Pharact grinned. "Hell, after the year I've had? I feel like I could survive the end of everything."
The Witch gave a small smile at this. "Maybe you could."
"Hey, keep your head up. It's not that far to the Gran Mur… We guessed it would be less than a week on foot."
"I'll hold you to that!" The Witch said, this time, with a deeper smile.
"Alright, get going miss Witch — you're burning daylight." Pharact said, motioning towards Aerial.
"Yeah, I suppose so… Take care, okay?"
"I'll do my best."
The Witch turned around to her Juggernaut, clambering into it, before pulling her harness around her shoulders, and switching on the systems in the right order. As the canopy shut, she gave a little wave to Pharact, who simply smiled, and shrugged his shoulders as the canopy of Aerial slid shut. The Witch followed Sabina's Bluebird out and away from the base, this time, heading due westward, straight towards the Gran Mur.
Pharact, on the other hand, simply watched them go.