In 3090, eighty-five years after the war began, Frank was twenty-one years old and was being transferred to the front. He was nervous as he only had two years of military experience in the backlines as a reserve during his time in the Civil Guard which was years ago. Mainly defending military-grade storages and depots in the supply regiment. It also didn't help that the veterans said the frontlines had become unsurvivable since last year. But ultimately Frank swallowed in his fears and prepared. After a few weeks, it was time to leave so Frank packed his equipment and his accessories and took a lift on a military truck with the other soldiers to the airfield. Once they arrived, Frank saw multiple A.S.T.C. (Air-to-Space-Tansport-Craft) flying in and out of the atmosphere. Large groups of soldiers from various backgrounds were waiting, crowding the place. It was loud with chatter. Then, as Frank walked through the soldiers, eager to be transferred to the frontlines, he bumped into someone familiar.

  "Frank?" the soldier spoke.

  Frank looked up to see his friend, Josh.

  "Oh, hey, Josh," Frank greeted.

  "I didn't expect to meet you," Josh said in surprise. "I mean, I was way over at the Asceria theatre. What are the chances that I ended up being transported here!"

  Frank laughed.

  "I know!" he shouted.

  Then, Frank looked at the shoulder straps of Josh.

  "You're a corporal now?" Frank thought.

  Josh seemed to have noticed Frank's shock.

  "Oh, I ended up serving in some off-duty mission," Josh nonchalantly explained.

  "A mission?" Frank spoke aloud.

  "Well, I wasn't allowed to talk about it," Josh explained further. "One day, a request from the high command came. I obviously accepted the request. I'd never deny a request from the higher-ups."

  Frank was truly bamboozled by this sudden revelation.

  "He went on a secret mission?" he thought internally.

  While they were chatting, an officer walked up to them.

  "What are your names, soldiers?" the officer loudly asked.

  The two of them immediately straightened their posture and saluted.

  "Private Franklin H. Richardson, sir!" Frank yelled.

  "I'm Corporal Joshua F. Peckings, sir!" Josh yelled too.

  "Alright," the officer announced. "I'm Second Lieutenant Roves B. Ferguson. You've been assigned to the 50000th Infantry Platoon, my platoon, which is a part of the 126th Infantry Company, the second unit of the 31st Infantry Battalion, the fourth unit of the 2nd Infantry Regiment, the first unit of the 15th Infantry Division a part of the 3rd Ugropa Corps. Go to the sixth section of this airfield."

  The officer then gave the two their dog tags.

  "Glory to the Federation!" the lieutenant shouted.

  Frank and Josh then waited in line for their transport craft. Once it arrived they went on board and sat down. The craft rocked as it left the planet.

  "Hey," Josh spoke on the other side.

  Frank looked up.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  "How's your family doing?" Josh asked.

  "Oh, well, they're doing fine," Frank defeatedly answered.

  "I see," Josh spoke with understanding. "I know that the financial situation is bad right now. But, it's not just you who's feeling the pain of it."

  There was a long pause of quietude, broken by the small rocking of the flying spacecraft.

  "You know," Josh tried to strike up another conversation. "This military service is gonna get us a lotta money."

  Frank scoffed at what Josh was implying.

  "Oh, don't even start," Frank stopped. "You know how I feel about this."

  The two stopped conversing as the spacecraft full of young Quadaric soldiers ascended into outer space.

  "I hope to see Samantha again after this," Frank thought sorrowfully. "I just hope."

  As he thought about that, their transport craft had arrived at their Q.I.T.S. (Quadaric-Interplanetary-Transport-Spaceship) and docked. In the hangar bay, the soldiers exited the craft. A crew of men rushed to the spacecraft, carrying boxes and blowtorches.

  "To the sleeping quarters!" a loud female voice ordered through the loudspeakers.

  "That's loud!" a voice shouted amongst the hundreds of other hangar bay noises.

  "Take a right turn after the hall!" the voice ordered once again.

  The soldier walked through the hallway of pipes and wires.

  "Follow me!" a loud male voice ordered from the front, leading the way.

  Frank recognised that voice. It was the lieutenant.

  Then, the soldiers came to an intersection.

  "To the right, soldiers!" the lieutenant shouted once more.

  The line of soldiers went right as told. There were neon light signs giving directions. Small sparks of electricity would often appear. The repairmen worked hard on fixing the electrics. Frank began noticing patterns. Like with every blast door, there would be a small box to the left.

  "Halt!" the lieutenant shouted.

  The soldiers came to a stop.

  "Alright, listen up," the lieutenant turned around. "Every one of you will go to their separate armoury locker and put their gear there. Now, make sure to remember your lockers."

  The lieutenant pointed to the armoury which was a blast door section down the right. Frank and Josh went and chose their lockers. They took off their helmets and shoulder pads, then their knee pads and elbow pads and all other armament they had on them. Surprisingly, there wasn't a lot of chatter. Most likely because the soldiers were so tired from all the walking. The loudspeaker shouted more orders and instructions.

  "Change into your cryogenic suits." the voice instructed.

  The soldiers began changing into the cryogenic suits. Frank quickly took off his gears, put them elsewhere, and changed into his cryo-suit. The suit automatically tightened.

  "Then, go to the cryo chambers," the voice instructed once again. "But make sure to take a pod designation before doing so."

  One by one, the soldiers walked out into the hallway. Frank was still busy putting his things in place. As if almost an instance, nearly all the soldiers had gone, including Josh. Frank frantically put on the headpiece of the cyo-suit and ran out into the hallway. He walked further down the narrow and long hallway until he arrived at the cryo chamber.

  "Chamber Number One," Frank read the sign. "Welp, time to find my pod."

  The giant door opened as a gush of wind blew against him. Frank saw rows upon rows of cry pods. He walked through the columns of cryo pods, looking for his designated one. Once he found it, he got into the empty cryo pod and as the pod's lid closed shut, Frank hoped for the best. The lights inside the pod switched on.

  "Cryo stasis initiating," a robot voice spoke.

  There was a percentage inside the pod that had lightened. Frank felt a strange substance covering him.

  "Cry stasis complete," the voice spoke again.

  Then, Frank's eyes closed without his control and he fell asleep.

  Frank felt a zap and he jolted back to life. His eyes were a little blurry but he could see some blinking lights in his pod.

  "What the hell?" Frank thought as if he'd just woken up from a long slumber.

  Frank blinked his eyes twice, yet everything was still dark.

  "H-hello?" Frank spoke, his throat dry.

  Then, Frank was met by a sudden light shining into his eyes.

  "Oh, Jesus," Frank thought.

  Frank's eyes took some time to readjust to the light. He blinked uncontrollably until everything became much clearer. There was a blinking light.

  "What does that say?" Frank tried to read. "Date."

  Frank's eyes turned to the numbers.

  "Twelve, fifteen... thirty-ninety," he read. "So that's... nine months passed?"

  Then, a loud voice bombarded his ears.

  "Welcome, Private Richardson!" a robotic voice shouted.

  Frank covered his ears.

  "Oh, sorry for being loud," the voice lowered. "Please proceed following the cryo pod procedure as follows. First, you will be assisted with walking using an exoskeleton. Second, proceed with going to the cafeteria and rest there for a while. And third, don't forget, glory to the Federation!"

  Frank tried to remember the procedure. His body felt numb as if he'd aged a hundred years. Then, the cryo pod opened automatically, and the smell of metal, ash, and coal came into his nose. Outside the pod was a giant metal exoskeleton. The cryo pod tilted to assist him to the exoskeleton. The exoskeleton latched onto him. Then, he felt a tingle in his neck and suddenly, the exoskeleton's legs began moving. Frank inhaled heavily and exhaled. It was quite literally a breath of fresh air. Frank's first steps were hard as their bodies had completely forgotten how to walk. It took some time with some crew members coming to help. Frank had to train his legs to work properly again. A few weeks passed. Then, one day, Frank went to the cafeteria to eat breakfast. There, Frank met up with Josh again. They had a small chat and then went to the hangar bay on time as scheduled. The white hallways acted like a maze with pipes, cables, and wires being visible.

  In the hangar bay, an officer briefed the soldiers about what they were in for once they landed. Frank recognized the officer and realised that it was the same one back when they were at the airfield. The officer introduced himself. His name was Lt. Roves Ferguson, the ex-commander of the infamous 'Black Wolves' squad. The hangar bay was humongous. It had multiple spacecraft docked. Engineering crews were cleaning the ships and repairing them of any damage. Maintenance was high. They didn't want anything to go wrong after a year's worth of travel after all. Once the briefing was over, Frank and Josh went on about their routines still crossing the alert boxes keeping them nervous at all times. The soldiers aboard had to keep exercising and maintaining their fitness until finally, they were able to properly walk again. Frank and the batch of soldiers he was a part of were now officially the 50000th Infantry Platoon.

  Frank looked outside of some windows and saw many spaceships like theirs and some burning and crashing down upon the dark, grey planet they were orbiting, turning into molten metal in the atmosphere, it was falling onto Ugropa, though, Frank didn't know the continent as he wasn't familiar with the planet itself. The planet in question was called Eulero 43Z or just Eulero, under the personal governance of Senator Curler G. Tadtwicht and the Tadtwicht family as by law. Their group lined up in front of Lt. Ferguson and he gave one last pep talk before they boarded the transport crafts once more. The soldiers looked fierce in their uniforms, helmets, and armour.

  "Soldiers," he spoke with confidence. "You've all been assigned to my unit. We are officially the 50000th Infantry Platoon. We are going to be flown into the frontlines, more specifically, the Ugropa Theatre. It's been nearly a decade since the Tanians joined forces with the Alarics.

  "We will show them the strength, the courage, and the true might of the Federation. We are the protectors. We are the soldiers of the great Federation. We serve to protect our beautiful nation, our homeland, and our families and friends. We fight for our people, we fight for their lives, we fight for their sake. Once we land, we will be strong, we will be disciplined, and we will be fierce! Aren't we all?!"

  "Sir, yes, sir!", the whole hangar reverberated of the soldiers' chant.

  "Then, onboard the spacecraft, now, soldiers!" Lt. Ferguson ordered.

  The platoon then went aboard and waited as the craft descended upon the mysterious planet. Frank thought about his family again but this time he was determined to fight for his nation, for what he believed in.

  "We've just entered the atmosphere," Lt. Ferguson spoke inside the spacecraft. "So prepare yourself for the surface."

  "Let's beat the Alarics back to Verlasia!" a soldier shouted.

  The whole spacecraft was full of the soldiers' laughter.

  "Yeah!" yet another soldier shouted. "Screw them Alarics! Let's kick them out of Ugropa!"

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  The soldiers were excited, to say the least. They were oblivious, unaware of what the battlefield would truly be like. Though, that would change in just a few minutes. They arrived on the surface in just a couple of intense rockings. The shuttle door opened to reveal the utter horror the group was going into. Loud gunshots and explosions in the distance, dead trees, and leaves turned into ashes leaving the tree charred with empty branches, buildings in ruins, huge flames in the distance, and large structures of what remained of destroyed spaceships that had crashed upon the battlefield, the entire landscape was a horrifying sight, made evident by the platoon immediately going quiet and stopping laughter and chatter the moment they walked out. They lined up outside and watched as the transport craft left, reminding them they might never return home alive. They were on a high elevation, a small hill of some sort. Lt. Ferguson seemed to be waiting for someone. The explosions got louder and louder until it became a thundering roar. Luckily for the soldiers, they had sound-deafening headphones specifically for this kind of scenario which blocked out the specific background noises of more than a hundred and forty decibels. Then, Frank saw an armoured jeep coming their way. When the jeep stopped in front of them. A high-ranking man walked out and stood in front of Lt. Ferguson. Ferguson saluted the mysterious man and turned to the soldiers.

  "Listen up soldiers! This is Captain Valen Krieger. He has some orders to give so listen carefully!" he shouted.

  "Five of you will go with me to the Dyle Ridge," the captain loudly spoke. "We need to sabotage a supply line in enemy territories."

  The Captain stopped for a few moments.

  "It is a dangerous mission," he continued. "I cannot ensure your survival. But I believe that only the bravest of you will volunteer. And those soldiers are the men I need for this mission. Anyone willing to volunteer?"

  A soldier stepped forward.

  "I volunteer sir!" the soldier yelled.

  Just as the soldier said that another soldier stepped forward.

  "I volunteer too!" he shouted.

  And then another one stepped forward signifying that they volunteered. And then yet another soldier and finally, Josh. Frank was surprised to see this and worried about what kind of tasks Josh would have to do. The Captain then turned towards Lt. Ferguson.

  "You have some brave soldiers here, Lieutenant," he applauded.

  Capt. Krieger made a hand gesture telling the five soldiers to follow him. They left off into the distance and Frank was left confused. Lt. Ferguson spoke up ordering the rest to follow him. Frank and the rest walked in formation behind Lt. Ferguson. They walked and walked and walked for what seemed like an eternity across the dry surface of the ground until they stopped at a resting point to camp. The smell of burned ash still lingered on. A soldier asked Lt. Ferguson why they had to walk instead of travelling by a vehicle.

  "The higher-ups aren't going to waste their resources on some random soldiers and it'd take too long for a vehicle to arrive in the first place," he answered.

  "Well, why didn't we descend closer to our objective then?" another soldier asked Lt. Ferguson.

  "Look soldier, do you expect our transport craft to survive descending upon a battle? Are you insane!" Lt. Ferguson responded harshly.

  "I apologize about my friend's behaviour there Lieutenant," one of the soldier's friends spoke. "He's quite naive."

  The soldiers turned to look at the soldier. The helmet of the soldier had a red cross, indicating that they were a field medic. They realized something was off about the soldier's voice.

  "Soldier, what are you doing in this platoon!" yelled Lt. Ferguson.

  That was when Frank and the other soldiers realised that this soldier was a female. Lt. Ferguson specifically hadn't assigned any females on duty in his platoon. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the female soldier. Frank, realising that she was potentially going get shot, stepped in front to stop it from escalating any further. He had to intervene.

  "Get out of the way soldier!" Lt. Ferguson yelled. "Dissidents break discipline and destroy structure and order. I'm going to give a great example of what undisciplined dissidents deserve!"

  "Sir!" Frank yelled back. "This is no way to treat a fellow soldier! Besides, she could have accidentally come aboard with us! And you're not a discipline officer!"

  Lt. Ferguson stopped to think. Frank began to worry. He shook nervously among the awkward silence, being stared down by dozens of other soldiers, at the centre of attention. Then, Lt. Ferguson readjusted his posture and looked at Frank.

  "What's your name soldier?" he asked.

  "Private Franklin Richardson, sir," Frank answered.

  The lieutenant concealed the pistol back into his holster.

  "I'll let you off with this one," he said.

  Lt. Ferguson decided to let it slide. He wasn't a discipline officer after all. The other soldiers looked in amazement at what was unfolding in front of them. Frank was relieved to know that he managed to save the girl. The rest of the group started putting up their tents ready to sleep as the sunset.

  The very next day the soldiers packed up and started marching once more. They had breakfast while marching. Lt. Ferguson had warned them about whether they should ration the MREs, loot, or even hunt for their food. On their journey, they crossed fields of grass and ruins of burned, collapsed, and destroyed wreckage of buildings. The overcast made the ground a greyish-blue shade with a blue backdrop of the skies. Despite all this fighting, skyscrapers still stood, just heavily damaged and worn down. It was grim. Their abandoned menacing look terrified any travellers. The road they walked on was full of craters and mud that splashed onto the boots with every step that they took. Some of the soldiers slipped and fell, causing joints and ankles to be dislocated. However, the medics dealt with that. The injured soldiers would learn their lessons. They came across scavengers and looters who ran at the sight of the platoon.

  At one point, there was an attack on some buildings. The platoon watched from afar as the gunfire ensued. They watched the whole fight unfold. There were D-80 Pelicans with soldiers dangling down with ropes. Just then, one of the crafts was hit by a small but precise rocket and swirled and spun in the air. The pilots dropped out with parachutes with the second pilot dying after the helicopter blades sliced him into bits. It was a horrible sight. The helicopter that had been shot down crashed into one of the buildings, going up into flames and exploding. The smoke from the crash went up into the air, seen from afar by the 50000th Infantry Platoon, the one that Frank was in. In ten minutes, the assault had completely turned into an enemy victory. It was demotivating to see. They couldn't do much about it, so the platoon continued walking onward towards the location of their objective. They saw more ruined buildings as well as crashed spacecraft, spaceships, and aircraft. Trash was littered everywhere throughout the battlefield. There were posters of recruitment and propaganda plastered on the sides of walls, which still existed after all that time. Then, Frank saw a pile of skeletal remains of horribly mutilated dead bodies, making Frank gag a bit. Their faces were disfigured, their bones had been crushed to mush, and their skin had been burned off completely. The bodies had probably been there for years at that point. The whole place stank of rotting corpses.

  At another point in their journey, there was yet another assault on what looked to be a thriving city. Bright flashes of bombs beamed the platoon from afar. Once the bombing was over, another squadron of planes flew over the city, this time soldiers with parachutes came out instead of bombs. There were also tanks on the ground firing at the opposing side, unnecessarily hitting buildings and spreading them to bits. Frank recognized who the paratroopers were. 155th Airborne Regiment was a paratrooper regiment infamous for winning many essential battles throughout the war. To say the least, it was a brilliant sight for Frank. The cooperation between the different soldiers of the regiment, their coordination, and their tactics and strategies were any commander's dream soldiers—the perfect regiment, some would even call it. Seeing all that made Frank feel insignificant and insecure about himself.

  Once they arrived at their objective after walking for a couple more miles, they saw the ruins of yet another town, it was a local town that had been destroyed to the ground. Mostly rubble remaining. A sign board was still standing, although rusted and worn down with bullet holes. Frank could just make out the words, it read 'Welcome to Holith'. It was written in an ancient language called Olden English but Frank was Dinen and spoke its language. Despite that though, he knew what the language was as it was pretty obvious from a glance, the unique shapes and curvatures of the English alphabet, but he didn't know what it read as he couldn't understand Olden English. The town had been through a lot of things, from bombs to constant artillery to missile attacks, made more evident by the state it was in. Only remnants were left to sway anyone from walking anywhere close. Lt. Ferguson finally briefed the group about what they were doing.

  "There is a company of enemies marching from the east. We must hold them off until reinforcements arrive," Lt. Ferguson explained.

  The soldiers became understandably worried. A platoon of thirty-six soldiers holding off against a hundred? It seemed impossible.

  "Sir, how long will our reinforcements take?" a soldier asked.

  "Twenty-four hours," Lt. Ferguson replied.

  "Twenty-four hours?!" Frank worriedly thought to himself.

  "We have to stall them from attacking our northern defences," Lt. Ferguson explained further.

  After that, the platoon set up defences and barricades throughout the town or at least what was left of it until it was nighttime. They set up sandbags, moved prices of broken furniture to make blockades, and used the ruins of the buildings as cover. They set up tents on a flat ground in the middle of the town, presumably the town square, now in an unrecognizable state. Frank was tired now and so were the other soldiers so most went to rest while others stayed up in shifts to get enough sleep. Frank had his dinner a cooked canned tomato with a makeshift campfire with some wood that he found and his frying pan to cook. After he had his dinner as many others also did, Frank was now doing his shift patrolling the area and looking at all the destroyed buildings under the moonlight. All of it used to be a home now it was nothing but abandoned ruins.

  In the middle of his patrol, he saw the insides of a ruined building as the roof and the second floor had been destroyed entirely to rubble. There was the furniture of what once used to be the home of a family. There were photos hung on walls, bashed up and broken. The plates, knives, and any valuables had been taken. Frank drank a sip from his canteen. Then, it started raining. The rain got heavier and heavier until it was a storm. Frank was lucky that he had had dinner before the storm. The rain poured down in relentless sheets, turning the ruins of Holith into a mire of mud and debris. Frank's boots squelched through the sludge as he crouched behind a battered wall, the once-grand structure now reduced to a crumbling wreck. The remnants of the town were barely recognizable—charred buildings, collapsed roofs, and twisted metal scattered across the battlefield. But amidst all the heavy rain noises, Frank could hear a faint yell...

  "Artillery!!!" a soldier yelled in the distance.

  A flare shot up into the sky, lighting up the entire town in a bright red hue. Then, someone sounded the air raid sirens. Everyone was panicked, scrambling for any sort of cover with some still asleep. Frank, half asleep, quickly hid in a foxhole. While Frank was in there, another soldier jumped in. Bright flashes of light lit up the night sky as the artillery barrage continued to roar louder like thunderous claps mixed in with the storm itself so it was a flurry of bright flashes from bolts of lightning, artillery, and roaring thunders. No one could hear a single thing. Frank feared for his life. He was hoping that a shell wouldn't land in the foxhole. Frank thought about his family, wanting to return home to be with them again. He started to rethink his life choices.

  "I'm going to die," he thought.

  Frank began to hyperventilate.

  "I'm going to die!" he cried out in a state of panic.

  The other soldier in the foxhole who was a medic could barely make what he shouted as the artillery muffled his voice. After some time, the barrage had stopped. Frank looked at the medic in the foxhole.

  "Keep yourself together!" the medic yelled. "Stay calm!"

  Frank could not make out a single word that the medic had spoken. The medic said to him again asking him if he was fine. Frank realizing this turned off his sound-deafening headphones. It was then that he finally recognized the voice. The female medic asked him yet again, but Frank heard her and responded this time.

  "I'm fine, don't worry!" he yelled as loud as he could. "What about you?"

  "I'm fine too!" she answered in her helmet.

  The two of them covered in heavy amounts of dirt got out of the foxhole and looked around to see the utter chaos and destruction the artillery barrage had caused. The entire town was covered in smoke, ash, and dead bodies. They saw the other soldiers. Some were in pain, some alive and some dead. Pieces of flesh, organs, and body parts littered the ground. Frank heard screams of pain and shouts of desperation. The sight horrified Frank. He gagged, wanting to throw up. The female medic with him took off her helmet and started puking uncontrollably. The artillery barrage had left the platoon in disarray. The soldiers around Frank were shouting orders, tending to wounded comrades, and trying to regroup. Frank, still shaking from the bombardment, tried to focus, his heart pounding in his chest. He gripped his rifle tightly, feeling the cold rain drench his uniform. And then he heard a yell.

  "Enemies, enemies, to the east!" a voice yelled.

  Once Frank heard this, he went into position. The others were doing the same too, leaving the fatally wounded to die. A sudden burst of gunfire erupted from the direction of the advancing militia soldiers. Frank’s nerves were on edge. He had never been in a gunfight before this moment. The sheer volume of noise, the sharp staccato of bullets tearing through the air, and the chaotic shouts of his platoon made it almost impossible to think straight. Frank's hands trembled as he loaded his rifle, trying to steady his breathing. He peeked over the edge of his cover, seeing the militia soldiers charging through the rain, their figures emerging and disappearing in the downpour. Then something crossed Frank's mind. Frank desperately asked some panicked and injured soldiers where the Lieutenant was. They didn't reply. The medics were trying their best to patch the wounded soldiers to get ready to fight again but with every second they wasted the enemies got closer.

  Then there were sudden gunshots. The first wave of enemy soldiers surged forward, their rifles barking. Frank’s vision was obscured by the rain and the chaos, but he could make out the silhouettes of the advancing soldiers. He aimed his rifle, his hands shaking as he tried to focus through the scope. His breath fogged up the lens, making it difficult to see clearly. Desperation drove him as he fired his first shots. The rifle’s recoil jolted him, but he gritted his teeth and tried to steady his aim. The militia soldiers fell back momentarily, but the assault was relentless. Frank ducked back behind his cover as bullets whizzed past, splashing mud and debris around him. There were explosions from grenades that lit up the pitch-black surroundings.

  "Frank, cover me!" Amelia shouted, her voice barely audible over the cacophony.

  Frank saw her moving to a more exposed position to get a better shot. He knew he had to act quickly. He squeezed the trigger, trying to cover her advance. The sight of enemy soldiers falling back and others taking cover gave him a fleeting sense of accomplishment, but he knew it was far from over. The rain continued to drench them, the cold seeping into Frank’s bones as he fought to stay alert. The sound of artillery shells exploding in the distance, the knowledge that more could be coming at any moment hanging over him like a dark cloud. Frank’s hands were numb, his rifle slipping slightly in his grasp, but he forced himself to maintain his fire. The enemy soldiers weren't about to retreat, but their advance slightly faltered under relentless resistance.

  Suddenly, a grenade landed in front of Frank knocking him backwards as the mud flew up alongside. His body was covered in mud and the blood of fallen brethren. His ears rang as he became dizzy. He looked down at his left foot, torn from shrapnel—the boot nowhere to be seen. Despite the agony, he got himself back up and began fighting again on one leg still blinded by the flash of the grenade. He was so tunnel-visioned that he didn't realise he had lost two of his fingers. The battle was not going in their favour at all. Every time an enemy got shot another one of theirs got shot. Frank looked up and saw a bright red flare in the sky instilled the sky with the red hue. Realising that they were losing but not wanting to give up Frank kept on fighting taking potshots at silhouettes he saw. Frank kept on fighting for so long that it started raining but Frank continued fighting, this was the last thing he'd do if he died. His adrenaline kept him from passing out. He took several bullets into his body, and his uniform turned an ugly red colour from all the blood pouring out of him until he finally fell, his limbs were too weak and he couldn't stand back up. The water splashed as he fell. His vision was blurry, from both the water, blood, and agonizing pain. The rain caused the blood to mix with the mud. Creating a red, brown pool of water. The rain got so heavy that the town was getting flooded. It was a hurricane. Frank stared into the sky as lay on the ground waiting for for his death. His comrades scrambled for cover, shouting orders. His eyes slowly closed as he passed out from bleeding.

  Frank woke up and saw that he was in a medical tent, treated by doctors in military uniforms. There was a rectangular metal plate with surgical equipment. The doctors wore face masks and with of blood-soaked surgical aprons. Frank was covered in layers of bandage on his shoulders, chest, and legs. He asked the doctors what had happened thinking that he'd been captured by the enemy. One of the doctors explained to him that they had won as reinforcements came in time. A battalion worth of soldiers, consisting of four thousand friendly soldiers of the 1000th Mechanised Infantry Platoon, the 999th Armored Infantry Company, as the enemies had called in reinforcements and the battle had to continue for about another hour, and the 100000th Artillery Battery came to push the enemies back. Frank was truly glad. He feared what the enemies would do to him in the POW camps, and what it would be like. He felt lucky that he had survived to see yet another day while others unfortunately didn't. He now felt guilty that he had survived after thinking about that. Then he got curious.

  "Who were the enemies that we were fighting then?" he asked.

  "Holithian resistance," the doctor replied.

  A soldier came into the tent and sat on a chair next to his medical bed.

  "It's me, the field medic, are you okay?" she spoke worriedly. "I was worried you were going to die. Then, I wouldn't have been able to introduce myself properly to you."

  "Oh, I'm not in too bad of a shape," Frank replied. "I guess I'm okay."

  "Anyway, I came here because I wanted to introduce myself to you properly," she said nervously. "My name is Amelia Naverland. I want to thank you for saving me from getting shot a few days ago. I truly owe you one."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Naverland," he greeted. "I should probably refer to you as Doctor."

  "I don't mind, really," Amelia answered.

  There was a long drawn-out silence.

  "I just wanted to introduce myself, that's all," Amelia spoke up. "I hope you get better."

  Amelia left soon after she said that. Frank couldn't imagine what it'd be like talking to a stranger that saved their life. Frank thought about Josh instead. He was still worried about him. Amelia had mistaken Frank for being single as he didn't have his ring. A bandage was wrapped around where two of his fingers were lost. One of which was his ring finger. His marriage ring was gone. Frank didn't want to bother too much about it. He stayed up for a few minutes until he pulled the blanket up and went back to sleep. He had lost a lot of sleeping time due to the battle the last night.

  The next day, Frank luckily recovered from his injuries, barely. He surprisingly didn't need any medication whatsoever. The doctors were very generous people so they wouldn't have possibly reserved the medicines for a better time instead of giving them to Frank. He walked out of the tent and saw an extremely long formation of soldiers standing. Frank went to his platoon. He assumed that this was just another rally. Then an officer walked up to them. The officer was missing a left hand. It was all bandaged up with blood visible.

  "Soldiers! Listen carefully!" he yelled.

  Frank recognised the voice. It was Lt. Ferguson!

  "Lieutenant!?" Frank said shocking everyone.

  Lt. Ferguson was alive but he was missing his left hand. Probably during the battle.

  "We have managed to hold the enemy just long enough that we survived..." he spoke. "Well, most of us. Some of you have lost your comrades, but you must stay strong! We have lived to see yet another day fighting for the sake of what we believe in! For the Great Federation!"

  The soldiers felt more motivated to continue fighting after that. The rally lasted for a couple more hours with more officers giving their speeches. Frank saw camera crews filming all of this. Ever since the Defence of Holith, Lt. Ferguson's platoon was praised and was given the name, the "Iron Phoenix", and Ferguson himself received the medal of honour. Frank, however, was not quite so pleased. He was only relieved that they had won and that he had survived. Despite that though, Frank had fully recovered from his injuries and was more determined to fight than ever but he was still worried about Josh.