We who have seen war will never stop seeing it, in the silence of the night we will always hear the screams…

- Joseph Galloway

Sixteen Months Earlier…

Sunset felt disconnected from her body, the world around her so separate from her reality. She looked out as if a stranger, a phantom that merely haunted the world in which she dwelled. Her breathing was rapid, uneven chunks of air tearing at her throat. She struggled to keep her body erect, every footfall shakier than the last. Right as she was certain she would fall to the ground, a wild swing of her arm found the handle to the car door and she wrenched it open violently, collapsing on the seat.

It was the height of summer, the southern humidity bringing a sweltering heat to the region. Nevertheless she found herself shivering, Sunset wondering if she was about to be sick. Every inch of her body was trembling so fiercely she could barely keep her vision focused. Unable to bear it any longer, Sunset buried her face deep in her hands, blocking out all light until the whole world had turned to black. She willed herself to cut off her other senses, allowing a dull ringing in her ears to overwhelm even her own heartbeat. Desperately she tried to calm her breathing, forcing each breath to be slow and methodical as could be. Finally, after what felt like millennia, she finally found the will to control herself. Facing the words she had just heard, however, would be difficult.

Marcos had been gone for eight months now. In his absence she had done her best to keep busy, but also to confront a growing issue the two of them had discovered. Despite their best efforts, she had remained childless throughout their first year together. After he had departed for his second deployment, she had taken it upon herself to find out why. Finally, after months of testing, samples, and doctor’s visits she had discovered why.

Infertile. It was a word Sunset had never expected to hear in her life. After months of wondering why she and her husband had failed, the truth was that the blame lay with herself alone.

“Infertile..? But- but how?” Sunset had asked, at first stunned by the doctor’s prognosis. “Why, what’s causing it? Is it treatable? Can anything-”

“Hold on, ma’am, one thing at a time,” the doctor had replied, an older woman in her mid-forties. She appeared to be sympathetic, considerate of her patients’ emotions, but doubtless this was not her first experience with the issue. “I’ll try to answer you as best as possible, but please… slowly. This can be a lot to take in.”

Sunset fumbled over her words, trying to regain composure. “Just… how? Why?”

“There can be a combination of causes. Female infertility is typically more common than it is in men, so there’s always a risk a woman may find herself struggling. It can range from everything to age, dietary habits, and many other reasons.”

“Well… what about me? What’s my cause?”

The doctor seemed hesitant. “Were- were you ever sexually assaulted in any way? Attacked?”

“What? No, no, of course not!” Sunset had replied, horrified.

The doctor sighed, looking over her notes before passing a series of scans to her patient. “This is a look inside your womb,” she had said slowly. “The reason I asked about past trauma is because there’s several signs of serious internal damage, even what my colleague referred to as scorch marks. It was almost as if… someone had dealt very severe internal damage to you at one point. Parts of your reproductive organs received damage as well. Do you know why, by any chance?”

Images flashed in her mind from years long past, of the fire and fury that had surged inside her as she had given in to her rage, the potent energy searing her skin and burning her black. She had never, in her darkest nightmares, had ever considered the damage to have gone deeper. “I- I- no, I don’t,” Sunset said miserably. “Is there anything that can be done?”

“There’s always possibilities,” her doctor had answered. “Certain treatments and remedies can alleviate certain symptoms, or help increase the likelihood, but it’s never a certainty. Your situation is not in itself unusual, and sometimes trauma like what your body has apparently sustained is not always repairable.”

Sunset felt like she had been struck by a train. “I’m… I’m never going to have a child, am I?”

The doctor remained impassive. “I’m sorry,” she had said gently. “I can suggest materials for you to read. Or perhaps counseling with experts to help cope. I know it must be a hard thing to hear.”

“Can I leave now? Please?” Sunset had said desperately.

“Of course.”

Sunset, now cradled in the familiarity of her own vehicle, felt the pain of the words become fresh once more. No child would ever have her eyes, the strong warmth of her husband’s courage. She would never bear the man she loved a family to truly call his own. The man she loved, who had gone off to war and left her here in this cold and unfeeling place.

For the first time in her life, she felt a hatred against him. For abandoning her here in this miserable place, where none of her old friends could be found. She was alone, left to deal with her agony by his own stupid selfish desire to play hero. You couldn’t just leave it be! You had to be a hero and leave me here to deal with this mess!

She regretted the thought almost instantly, remembering his sadness at their departure. The weeks leading up to his deployment Marcos had remained quiet, desiring nothing more than to stay behind with her. He hadn’t wanted to leave. None… none of this is his fault. He just wanted to help, to keep me safe. It’s because of me, if I hadn’t been such a stupid teenager, if I had just let the old magic alone…

Overwhelmed, Sunset simply poured herself into her hands and wept bitterly, the weight of her grief and loneliness simply too great to bear.

Time: 1835

Location: The Outskirts of Toruń

“Alright, this is our position for now. Second platoon, take the west side and keep it covered. First platoon, take the east, let’s go!”

The tired, wearied Troop of soldiers grumbled as they trudged along, some riding atop their Humvees as they made their way down the cobblestone streets and out of the alleyways. It had been a long, unpleasant week for the unit, marred by the most minimal of sleep and erratic sniper strikes upon their locations. Though no one had yet been killed, two men had already been struck by stray rounds and were promptly evacuated from the front lines. The sudden loss of good, hardy Cavalrymen was demoralizing to them, particularly as the chaos within the city had begun to diminish. Despite the success of their campaign, the enemy simply would not cease.

Reyes trudged along, his rucksack having long ago dug itself into his shoulder, pressing down on his armor and tearing at flesh. Despite his numerous readjustments throughout the day, the camouflage pack simply would not settle correctly, causing his shoulder to scream its displeasure. Adding to that was the miserable condition of his feet, as their constant state of alert had kept him from even changing socks. With luck, there would soon be a break where he could air out his ailing feet.

He looked up and saw the fatigued outline of his old Platoon Leader ahead of him, the door of his vehicle wide open as he pored over various notes and numbers. “Hey, sir,” Reyes said, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

Lieutenant Armor looked up and saw his former crewmates, giving no sign of greeting. Reyes noticed dark circles around his lidded eyes, and was willing to guess he had slept just as little –if not less than- as the rest of them.

“Hey, Corporal,” he said bluntly. “How’s Pharaoh doing?”

“Doing alright, sir. Doesn’t quiet have your skillset but he’s a good guy.”

“I’d trade with him any day of the week,” Lt. Armor replied, stretching his arms. “Being an Executive Officer fucking sucks, I can’t wait to be done with this job. Miss actually doing shit.”

“Don’t doubt it, sir.”

“Reyes, Mac! Need you two over here!” The call came from their Humvee, commanded by Second Lieutenant Pharaoh, the unit’s freshly acquired Platoon Leader. Green as grass but eager to learn, he had been given Reyes, Big Mac, and Collie as his vehicle team to aid him on his way, their experience and skillset having become invaluable. All three were waiting on their Sergeant stripes now.

“What’s up, sir?” Reyes asked as Mac stifled a yawn.

“Did either of you get any rest last night?” Pharaoh asked.

Big Mac shook his head. “Guard duty,” he replied.

“OK. Look, Captain Dyke’s given the order for it to be down to 25% watch per platoon so we can start getting some rest. I want you two to find a safe place to rack out, alright? Change your socks, air out your boots, you know the drill.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Reyes said, departing from the vehicle and heading into a nearby building, a gaping hole in the wall providing an easy entrance.

Big Mac and Reyes said nothing as they threw their rucksacks on the ground, their bodies suddenly feeling lighter than air. It was glorious to be rid of them at last.

“Sup, bitches?” said a voice, and the shadowed figure of Collie came creeping through the hole, settling in next to his two friends.

“Fuck you, Driver,” Big Mac sighed, trying to ignore his more jovial colleague.

“Oh don’t act so high and mighty, I haven’t slept in two days,” Collie snapped. “Jesus, it’s like you’re the only guy who can suffer around here.”

“I’ve gotten six hours in the last four days, Collie. Shut the hell up,” Reyes replied, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” Collie challenged. “Well, you may wanna take a look at what I got. Supply brought in some mail for the Squadron, and we got a few letters.”

“Congrats to whoever did- I got something, didn’t I?” Reyes said, realizing where this conversation was heading.

“Why else would I tell you, you stupid fuck?” Collie said, taking the letter out of his cargo pocket and tossing it at Reyes’ immobile form. “It’s from your wife, so… can I see it next?”

“Hell, man, just grab a porno from a shop around here and be done with it, don’t be a creep,” Reyes said scornfully. He shuffled in one of his rucksack pockets, eventually finding a small headlamp and tore the envelope open, reading through his wife’s words hungrily. Sunset’s handwriting was vibrant, each letter playful and inviting to the eye. Even though she remained thousands of miles away and the letter written weeks prior, it was as if her warmth and love had been carried to him through it. Even better were the words within, his body had hungered for her these last few months. The sight of what he read only magnified his desire, his hands longing to reach out and touch her, to feel her against him once more.

Reyes sighed and put the letter down, his light shining through the thin paper and revealing a second item within. With blackened fingers he extracted the item, finding a photograph tucked in the very back of the envelope.

“Oh, my God, your wife is ridiculously hot.”

Reyes froze. His head snapped to his side to see Collie transfixed, staring ravenously at the picture of Sunset and his hands instinctively reaching down towards his trousers.

“Collie!” Reyes leapt to his feet and gave momentary chase, running his friend out of the building.

“I’m gonna hang onto that image in my head forever- later!”

“Collie, I am gonna beat the living hell out of you next time I see you!” Reyes raged.

Behind him, he heard a snigger. “Collie’s gonna fap to it,” Big Mac said smugly.

“Fuck off.”

The older man laughed again. “So much for not swearing anymore.”

“I know, I know, force of habit. I’ll kick it eventually,” Reyes replied, collapsing back onto his rucksack. “Oh, man…”

The silence crept back into their haven, the outside world still haunted by the sound of dying fires and occasional gunshots in the distance. Reyes felt his body drifting away, quickly falling to sleep…

“So she looked that good?”

Reyes couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re damn right.”

Three days later and King Troop was on the move yet again, finally leaving Toruń behind and heading into the countryside surrounding the city. The town had been settled as the Brigade’s main command post, offering the leaders an easily maintainable HQ and a place for the battalions to return to and rest. Though the battle had by and large been won, the new order was to pursue and neutralize resistance, punching a hole through defenses that would lead right to the heart of the Crystal Empire.

“Dammit, it’s been fucking cold out here,” Collie said as he drove the vehicle along, trying his best not to shiver. “Winter up here is hell, I can’t believe I ever bitched about Savannah.”

“Most of the Empire is pretty far north- or at least further north than home,” Reyes replied. “I guess it’s just gonna stay colder longer up here.” He had spent most of the ride attending to the crew’s weaponry, cleaning rifles and sifting through ammunition to ensure they would be ready to fight at a moment’s notice. He leaned over beneath the turret and yelled, “Hey, Mac! You good up there, man?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac replied through chattering teeth, the freezing wind seeping through his layers of protection and chilling him to the bone.

“You sure? I can take the gun for a bit if you need it.”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“Aight, your call.” Seeing nothing else he could do, Reyes returned to cleaning his rifle. A stubborn stain on his barrel refused to disappear and he wouldn’t have it.

“All vehicles, prepare for the turn, be sure to maintain distance as you make the crossing,” came the order across the radio. “About ten more clicks and then we’ll spread out across the terrain, with First Platoon taking the northeast.”

“Roger, King Six, this is Red One, I copy,” Pharaoh replied. “Corporal Reyes, do you remember where we gotta go?”

Reyes pulled the map from a pocket strung across the seat before him. “Right here, correct, sir?”

“Right. I’m gonna find a place to conceal the vehicle once we hit the screen line, and after that I’m going to need you to take a radio and hoof it on your own. I need your eyes and ears on the road ahead.”

“Just gotta use BLUES, sir, and I’ve got you covered,” Reyes said, studying the map as he assessed the terrain. “A whole lot of farmland and grasses. Not much cover, and not much high ground either.”

“Is there anything good out there, or are you gonna need to play it by ear?”

Reyes scrutinized the path of the road, his eyes scanning the area surrounding it. “Perhaps right here sir, about 100 meters east of the road, should put me enough of a distance away from you that neither of us are given away. I’ll have to judge my cover when I get there.”

“Alright, good stuff. Make sure to grab an MRE before you head out.”

“Too easy, sir.”

It was early evening as they made their way down the countryside path, their vehicle remaining parallel to the road at a small distance, eager to keep watch over traffic and avoid possible explosives buried along the trail.

“There’s a small copse of trees ahead,” Lieutenant Pharaoh said. “Collie, there’s a small slot right to the side of it where we can set up, pull us in there.”

“You got it, sir,” Collie replied, turning the wheel and pulling their Humvee slowly but surely into a secluded spot in the treeline.

“Reyes, get out there. How visible are we?”

Reyes leapt out of his seat and dashed ahead, keeping low to the ground so as to avoid detection. After reaching a reasonable distance he turned around to look back on his crewmates. The headlights still gleamed, reflecting the sunlight, and he could see the movement of the soldiers within through the windshield, but both were fixable issues. As long as their 50 .Cal could have a clear shot, they would be perfectly settled.

“How do we look?” Pharaoh asked.

“Just need to get the camo nets out, cover over the headlights and the windshield, sir,” Reyes reported. “We should be pretty damn well covered, I was about thirty meters out and the vehicle itself had pretty good concealment.”

“Alright, grab them from out of the back and help Mac get them on. I’m gonna work on getting your radio set and then you head on out of here.”

In less than ten minutes, the once-visible silhouette of their vehicle had all but disappeared, leaving the well-trained Cavalrymen in a perfect position to strike. Once darkness fell they would be totally invisible to the world.

“All set. Got everything you need?” Lieutenant Pharaoh asked, watching as Reyes attached the handmike to his radio.

“Woobie, poncho, two MRE’s, two spare radio batteries, pair of boots, binoculars and my NVG’s… should be good to go, sir,” Reyes said, stuffing the radio into his assault pack and swinging it over his shoulders.

“Alright, give me a radio check when you reach the road, I want Mac to give you cover so you can traverse safely.”

“Wish me luck.” He was gone in an instant, hunched down as he ran towards the oncoming road in an attempt to obscure his profile. Before the grass broke he fell to the ground and remained concealed, his eyes darting this way and that as he scanned the road. All was quiet and well, but he was too low to the ground to make the judgement on his own.

“Red One Actual, this is Red One Delta, radio check, over.”

The response was clear as crystal, a rarity in communications. “Red One Delta, this is Red One Actual, read you Lima-Charlie. Are you at the LDA, over?”

“Roger, waiting on confirmation of safe passage. On your mark.”

“Roger, on my mark…” The moment was tense, Reyes’ muscles taught as he prepared to either leap forward across the road or back into the grasses for greater cover. Then the radio crackled to life once more. “LDA is clear, I say again, LDA is clear. Move now.”

“Moving!” Reyes thrust forth and exposed himself, the once-thin road suddenly a wide, exposed gash upon the world. The other side seemed so far away, each step so minute-

He disappeared in the heather on the opposing side in a matter of seconds, wheeling about to keep eyes on the road. “Red One Actual, Red One Delta, I am safely across the LDA, moving forward to the OP, over.”

“Roger, Red One Delta, get moving.”

The movement was slow but without danger, Reyes keeping his profile low as he moved, maintaining a moderately-paced march and keeping his head on a swivel. He was the primary overwatch for the entire platoon, the first person who would see the enemy coming. If anything broke through without being noticed, the guilt and inevitable blood would be upon him.

Several minutes later he found himself creeping up a hill, searching for whatever concealment he could find- which, he realized ruefully, was not much. The hill was not small but offered little shelter from prying eyes beyond some small rocks. Remaining low to the ground was a standard tactic, but on this sparse patch of earth it likely would not be enough. Reyes’ turned to face the sun, watching as its dying rays still gleamed on the horizon. By his opinion, it could not retreat fast enough.

Five hours had passed, uneventful and gloomy. Though Reyes was glad of the peace, he found himself wishing he had packed additional cold weather gear. The night had turned frigid beyond his expectations, and try as he might, his woobie cover simply was not enough to shield him.

The cold will keep me awake, he thought, trying to ignore the discomfort of his feet. It would not do well to catch frostbite out here. Wait a minute… the MRE! Reyes reached into his pack and extracted a brown bag, MRE #1- Chili with Beans. Opening the pack he grabbed for a small green pouch and filled it with a small stream of water, giving it a shake. In seconds the pouch emanated heat and was swiftly tucked away between Reyes’ chest and his uniform, the warmth giving him a reprieve from his unhappiness. Seeing nothing better to do, Reyes went to work on the rest of the MRE’s contents, eating a very cold meal that offered little pleasure to anyone.

As he worked his way through a vegetable cracker, Reyes took pause. There was a small, indistinct buzzing sound on the very edge of his hearing. He put down his meal and put his hand to his ear in attempt to help. Had his hearing finally become too damaged? No, the buzzing sound was still there… and growing ever louder as it turned from a buzz into a steady hum.

The hum of an engine.

Reyes reacted instantly. “Red One Actual, this is Red One Delta, we may have something. Unknown vehicle approaching,” he reported.

“Red One Delta, Red One Actual, can you get eyes on the target?”

“Searching now,” Reyes replied, reaching for his binoculars and scanning the land beneath him. The sound was still far away but growing ever closer, revealing itself as the distinct sound of a diesel engine- no doubt a war machine. “Come on, come on, show yourself,” Reyes snarled-

A flash of movement caught his eye, revealed by the sheen of light upon metal. Reyes refocused and felt his heart sink as he recognized the unmistakable profile of a T14. A tank with more than enough capability to destroy him and his crewmates.

“Red One Actual, we have one enemy tank, moving in the open, heading southwest towards your location,” he reported. “Confirmed T14.”

“Roger, is the target alone?”

“Affirmative, just one target. It’s avoiding the road and moving parallel…” Reyes realized exactly what would happen. The tank, through no intention of its own, was on a collision course with his Humvee below. The moment the two made contact their cover would be blown and the whole Troop would be in danger. “Red One Actual, target is moving directly towards your position, it’s going to collide.”

“Can it see us?”

“Negative, target is still scanning for hostiles, he’s likely on patrol or scouting. Request permission to call for fire, over,” Reyes said.

“Negative, don’t reveal yourself unless absolutely necessary,” Pharaoh replied. “We’re evacuating the vehicle now, hopefully the damage to the vehicle will cover our tracks.”

It was a poor plan, but Reyes found himself unable to think of anything better, watching as the almighty tank bore straight towards his friends below, and he could do was simply pray that they made it out in time before they were crushed to death –or worse, caught and killed by the Imperial soldiers within.

“Target 100 meters from your location and closing,” Reyes reported. “Still has not caught sight of you, remain low and get out of there.” He was frantic, a spectator to what would likely be an execution-

It was in that moment that Reyes gave birth to an ingenious, yet incredibly reckless idea. “Red One Actual, this is Red One Delta, preparing to cause diversion, over,” he reported, grabbing his rifle and peeking through the sights to locate the moving tank. It would be the most difficult shot of his life, the distance between the two already great, now worsened by the moving target-

He fired his first shot and missed, likely landing a good several meters short. He readjusted and fired again, watching as the shot hit the ground right below the treads. He steadied himself and fired once more, scoring a direct hit on the turret-

The effect was instantaneous. The tank’s automatic defense system kicked in, the turret swiveling around to face its attacker. The war machine grinded to a halt as the crew within attempted to locate their assailant-

Reyes fired again and again, peppering the machine with as many shots as he could land. No one would be hurt by his puny rifle, the tank’s powerful armor merely taking scratches, but it was enough to keep them occupied-

And then, to Reyes’ delight, the tank moved positions, heading closer to his position on the hilltop and leaving its collision course. It stopped at the edge of the road and the turret readjusted, the gun taking aim in preparation to fire-

Reyes’ time was up and he knew it. He grabbed his assault pack and began to run, revealing his silhouette for all to see-

He heard the shot only a second before it struck, the ground beneath his feet erupting and throwing the young man flying. Reyes was unable to stop himself as he fell down the hill, rolling and striking every rock and bump along the way. His head was screaming in pain, drifting in and out of consciousness from the concussion of the blow. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he found the bottom and his body stopped rolling, coming to rest at the base of the hill and settling there. His head still swam, his vision flickered and he could not move, and he could not stop the violent ringing in his ears-

He felt something push against him, his body being shook violently. Hands raked across his body as if searching for something. Through the ringing he could hear a muffled sound, a voice speaking words of all things-

Reyes gave a start and took a sudden chunk of air, the pain of his descent enveloping his body in full force. Every inch of him spoke of discomfort, bruised and battered beyond anything he had ever known-

“Reyes! Thank Christ, man, I thought you were fucking dead!” It was Lt. Pharaoh, searching across his body for any signs of damage. “Are you alright, are you injured?”

“I don’t think so, sir,” Reyes replied, trying to sit up and immediately struck by incredible pain. “Holy shit that was painful. Gimme a second.”

“He’s clean! No entry wounds far as I can tell,” said Big Mac, who Reyes had not noticed was scanning his legs.

“You stupid sonuvabitch,” Pharaoh said, his expression suggesting he wanted to strike his soldier. “You’re lucky to be alive, you know that?”

“Sure save your asses, sir,” Reyes grunted, forcing himself into a sitting position. “Hot damn… so what happened? Where is it?”

“It’s pushed through. Heading straight for our line.” Pharaoh became anxious. “Can you move? We’ve gotta go after it.”

“Yeah, help me up,” Reyes said. In moments they were on the move again, disregarding all protocol as they raced after their deadly target.

“Sir, you gotta hear this!” Collie said, throwing aside the handmike and raising the volume of the speaker. The sound of battle chatter erupted from it, along with the sounds of intermittent gunfire. The tank had revealed itself in full force.

“How bad?”

“Bad. One vehicle already down- it was Captain Dyke.”

“Jesus.” The four men were stark as the knowledge set in: their commander was dead and gone.”

“All units, do not attempt a head-on assault, keep that turret on a swivel!” came the commanding voice of Lt. Armor. “If it can’t keep a steady lock on you then it won’t attempt to fire. Keep it confused and don’t let it focus on a single vehicle.”

“We don’t have the firepower to take it down,” Collie said nervously. “Everybody’s gonna die.”

“Well we’re gonna have to figure something out,” Reyes said, his mind racing. “I’ve got an idea-”

“No, Reyes! You’re injured enough!”

“I can handle it, sir, I’m still fit to fight,” he replied firmly. “We don’t have the firepower to take it down but if I can get close I can jump it. I kill the crew then I kill the vehicle.”

“That is fucking stupid, that is really fucking stupid. This is not fucking Halo, you-”

“Target in sight, 90 meters!” Big Mac roared, cocking his M2 and opening fire-

“Collie, bank left!” Pharaoh roared-

The tank’s turret wheeled about and began to trace them, firing a shot that missed their vehicle by mere inches-

“Holy fuck!”

“Bank right, keep it moving! Don’t slow down for a single second!”

“Red One, disengage, you are in the hostile’s killbox, I say again disengage!”

“We’ve gotta stop it,” Reyes breathed, feeling himself beginning to panic. “It’ll tear the Troop apart if we don’t slow it down.”

“Reyes, don’t you try it-”

“Sorry!” Reyes said, opening his door and rolling out onto the frozen earth below-

His body screamed, already dangerously worn down from the last strike, but he commanded himself to ignore the pain, keeping a low profile as he raced towards the T14, seeing the machine gun come to life, opening fire on its nimble opponents. The goal now was to cripple its enemies, and let the main gun deliver the killing blow-

He scanned the profile of the vehicle, searching for any signs of weakness that he could exploit. Perhaps the treads were breaking down, a damaged part of the hull, but nothing. He would have to improvise-

A well-aimed round went screaming from the tank’s main gun, connecting with a rogue Humvee and sending it flying, the vehicle torn and burning as the deadly tank shell did its work-

Reyes gave a roar and opened fire with his rifle, giving the tank another target to deal with-

The machine gun swiveled and pointed in his direction, opening fire and releasing a stream of 7.62mm at his feet-

Reyes ran faster than he ever had before, each footfall just one step ahead of being struck by his enemy-

A spattering of fire struck the turret once more as a Humvee passed right in front of the moving tank, coming dangerously close to being run over-

The T14 spun around and opened fire again, like a bear trying to crush a mouse beneath its paws-

Reyes crept behind the vehicle and leapt up, his hands scrambling for something to hold onto. His first attempt was met with failure, falling to his feet and coming dangerously close to the treads-

He leapt back on his feet and tried again, his fingers latching onto something he couldn’t see, whether it be a piece of equipment or a grip of sorts he didn’t know. With all his might he threw the rest of his body onto the vehicle-

Gunfire peppered his position and he covered his face. Now that he was aboard he was at risk of being struck by friendly fire. This is stupid, really stupid! He thought to himself-

Reyes scrabbled to climb the turret, watching as the remote machine gun did its work, striking a Humvee ahead and damaging one of the wheels-

The Humvee hit a dip and began to roll, over and over in a horrible cycle until it came to rest in a ditch, immobile and nearly destroyed, revealing no signs of life inside-

Reyes fumbled about on his FLC, extracting a grenade and promptly pulling the pin. One… two… reaching for the turret hatch he wrenched it open and let the grenade drop, waiting for the inevitable-

A small Boom! And the sound of screams from within as those inside were struck, likely killed instantly by the explosion. Nevertheless the tank roared on, the driver safely nestled away from the rest of the crew, still able to present a threat-

Reyes took a breath of air and opened the hatch yet again, sending a spray of blind gunfire before sliding in himself. He forced himself to ignore the savagery around him, trying not to think about the flesh and blood he was surrounded by. He could feel something sticking into his leg that felt very much like a bone-

He gave himself a shake and kept searching, looking for a way to cripple the tank’s power. Every switch he could see he struck, praying frantically that the next one would be the one-

The vehicle’s interior suddenly went dark, screens dying and the powerful roar of the tank’s engine beginning to die. His task complete, Reyes scrambled to free himself from his blood-soaked prison and flung himself out into the winter air, giving a gasp of relief-

A bullet struck the surface next to his head, ricocheting and missing him by a hair’s breadth. The driver had extracted himself from his hole and was opening fire-

Gunfire assaulted the immobile tank and Reyes jumped to the ground and covered his head, waiting for the moment to be over-

Just as it had begun, the moment was over. The sound of war fled the countryside, replaced by the sound of wind and burning metal. Reyes, when he was at last certain of his safety, untucked himself from his hiding place and rose to his feet. He needed to find his crew.

“Lt. Pharaoh? Mac! Collie!” he yelled, looking around for any signs of life. He could hear the sounds of movement, friendly Humvees racing to and fro across the once-lively battlefield. Lights suddenly flashed before him and he shielded himself, listening as it crept towards him and came to a halt.

“Reyes? Reyes!”

“Lt. Armor!” Reyes replied, reaching out for his friend, still blinded by the vehicle’s lights.

“Reyes- holy shit, what’d you do?”

“I disabled it,” Reyes coughed. “Turned off the power. The crew’s dead, somebody else got the driver but I don’t know who.”

“You might’ve just saved our skins,” Lt. Armor said bracingly. “Where’s Pharaoh and the others?”

“You don’t know?”

“Were they… oh, no,” Lt. Armor whispered. “If they were one of the vehicles that was struck…”

Reyes felt his blood turn to ice. “The one that went into the ditch!”

“Jump in!” Lt. Armor returned to his seat and their vehicle raced off towards the wreckage, straining through the night for any signs of life. “Come on, come on,” was their simple prayer.

“Shit, it’s theirs,” Reyes said, leaping out from the Humvee and running over to the destroyed vehicle. “Collie! Mac! Can you guys hear me?”

“We’re here!” Came the faint reply, and a bloodied hand reached out from the window.

“Lt. Pharaoh!” Reyes rushed over and wrenched the door open, extracting his leader from the wreck. “You hurt, sir? Anything broken?”

“No, just pretty banged up, and a few cuts is all,” he said weakly, though still possessing a grin. “Good shit, Reyes, you probably saved our lives.”

“I need a medic over here!” came a bull-like roar, a voice that Reyes realized belong to Big Mac. He peered into the vehicle and saw his friend, heavily bruised and bleeding from a cut across his face, sitting next to an unconscious and grievously injured Collie.

“Oh Jesus,” Lt. Armor said.

“He’s hurt real bad, sir,” Big Mac said worryingly. “He’s bleeding all over and his legs are broken. I’m afraid to move him.”

“Get him awake, I’ll call up a Nine-Line,” Pharaoh said, turning to Lt. Armor. “I need your radio-”

“Of course, go ahead-”

“Sir, you need to hear this!” came the cry from Lt. Armor’s Humvee- Private Bowman was leaning out of his driver’s seat, face stark white. “It’s the Squadron Commander.”

Lt. Armor grabbed the handmike from the young man’s hand and began to listen, his countenance rapidly changing into one of terror. After a few moments he simply let the handmike fall from his hand, standing there in stunned silence.

“Sir..?”

“That tank was a scout,” he said quietly. “We just got a report from SATCOM- large numbers of enemy forces are headed this way for an intercept. Something happened on the Russian border but no one’s sure what.”

The once-peaceful night had been torn asunder for good, the horrifying reality settling upon each one of them. They were ill-prepared and already battered from this sole encounter, and now they knew hundreds, if not thousands more, were headed their way.

A second Humvee came racing towards them, pulling a screeching halt next to the group of Cavalrymen. “Sir! Sir!” It was Sergeant Nye, bristling with energy and looking like he was on the verge of panic. “Sir, you’ve… you got to-”

“I already know, Sergeant, I just got the call,” Lt. Armor replied.

“No, sir, it’s- there’s a village nearby, we retreated into it for cover, and- sir, you’ve gotta see this.”

Perhaps it was something in his voice, maybe it was the horror in his eyes, or the fact that such a hardy man had begun to panic that made them shiver. “What have you found, Sergeant?” Lt. Armor asked.

Sergeant Nye fumbled about, grasping for the words before simply accepting defeat. “I- I don’t know, sir. I don’t know.”

Marcos awoke instantly, giving a start as he rose from his seat. His heart pounded inside his chest, each beat a painful rattle against his ribs. He felt a soreness on his jaw from where he had lay, a trickle of spittle running down his cheek. The rain, splashing against the windowpane, only added to his confusion. The skies were a baleful gray, the light outside indicating it was somewhere around midday. Where was he?

He took a moment to calm himself, trying to recollect his thoughts and put them in proper order. No, he was not in Toruń- he was at home. It was not winter but springtime, a pleasant albeit wet day. He was not at war, he was safe and comfortable. “I just got off a 24-hour shift, I’m tired, and I fell asleep on the chair. I’m alright,” Marcos told himself. He put a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat come to a gentle thrum. He gave a deep sigh. “I’m OK.”

Footsteps behind him, and Sunset came around the corner. “That sounded like a rough one,” she said, walking over to place a hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” he said, giving his wife a smile. “Just a bad dream.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

His memories recalled the dream, as well as the revelations that came after. He couldn’t help but give a shudder, saying, “No. Not yet.”

“You going to be OK?”

“Course I will,” he said lightly. “Don’t worry about me-”

“I know you say that to try and make me feel better,” Sunset interrupted, “but I don’t stop worrying about you. You know that, right?”

Her face was sorrowful, her eyes rimmed with dark circles. She was sleeping even less than before, he realized. “Yes, I know,” Marcos replied softly. “And I appreciate it.”

Sunset gave a smile and left, returning down the hall and disappearing from sight. Marcos turned back to the window, watching the rain fall gently down the pane. He closed his eyes and found himself seeing his dream once more, the nightmares of that day and the ones that followed still fresh in his mind. He gave himself a shake and stood up. He had done enough sleeping for now.

Marcos walked down the hall to their bedroom to find Sunset refitting the sheets, placing down everything with unusual tenderness. As she placed several dress pillows on the bed, she paused and brought her hands to her face, a shuddering breath escaping her lips. She wiped the tears away before they could form, trying to regain her composure.

“Sunset…”

His wife gave a start as he entered the room, his presence taking her by surprise. “Hey,” she said thickly, trying to paint a smile on her face and failing. “What are you doing? I thought you went back to sleep.”

“Came to see your pretty face, that’s all,” he said, feeling a grin begin to form as he watched her react.

“Oh… umm, OK, then.” She began to play with her hair, taken aback at her husband’s kind words. “Well…”

“You want some help?” he inquired.

“Huh?”

Marcos laughed, unable to help himself. “Do you want some help?”

Sunset was now completely at a loss of what to do. “Umm, well… if you want, I was about to start on the bathroom once I finished up with this.”

“Sure. Come on, let’s get to it,” Marcos said.

Sunset said little during their work, perhaps still flummoxed by Marcos’ sudden request. Though he was not unkind, the past few months had seen them spend a large amount of time separate from one another. Yet there he was, right beside her. It was such a strange, yet marvelous thing that she was uncertain of what to do.

“Anything else that needs to get done?” he asked, admiring their work.

Sunset shook her head. The place looked cleaner than it had in ages, the surface of the sink shining against the light. The shower was free of mold and stains, no soap residue trailing the sides. He had worked hard to help her. “I- I think we’re good for now, honestly,” she said.

“Alright then. I’m gonna go back and watch some TV for a bit, OK? Let me know if you need anything.”

“Um.” The entire situation had lasted only about half an hour but Sunset had never in her life been more thoroughly confused.

Marcos gave a laugh, a jovial sound that shook away the darkness from her mind. His eyes danced with a quiet light, one that she hadn’t noticed was there before. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, barely able to hold back a giggle.

“Nothing, I don’t know, just…” he stumbled for the words. “It felt good to do something with you, that’s all.”

Sunset could hardly look him in the eye, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. This was stupid, she was a grown woman, not some silly schoolgirl! Before she could say a word she felt his hands on her face and a pair of lips pressed against her own, the warmth he brought taking her breath away.

“Love you, beautiful,” he said quietly, and then left the room.

Sunset didn’t notice him leave, too overwhelmed to take in much of anything at all. She saw nothing but the gleam in his eyes, felt nothing but the firmness of his lips against hers. For that single moment it had lasted, she had felt so safe in his hands, so perfectly at peace-

“I almost forgot,” Marcos said, returning to the room.

“Yes!” Sunset cried, her heart pounding madly in anticipation- of what she wasn’t quite sure, but if it involved taking her clothes off she would be more than willing.

“Well, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

“Time?”

“It’s Thursday, remember? Every Thursday at 3 o’clock?” he reminded her.

“Oh. Oh yeah! Your counseling sessions,” she said, feeling somewhat disappointed. “Alright, hope it keeps going well for you-”

“Do you want to come with me?” he asked, suddenly becoming serious.

Sunset accepted that today would be full of surprises. “You want me there with you?”

Marcos nodded. “Yeah, I mean… Cadance has been suggesting it for a while, anyway. Maybe I should start making a habit of it, and you’re off today too, so if you don’t have anything to do…”

“Yes, of course I’ll come,” Sunset said happily. “Just give me a moment to put something on. I’ll be there in a minute!”

The drive to the MFLAC center was the most beautiful drive Sunset had ever been witness to: rain fell in a beautiful symphony, the trees seemed to glow in the gray light, the grass seemingly growing before her eyes.

“Hey, so…” Marcos hesitated. “So I wanted to give you a heads up about how they’ve usually worked. These sessions, I mean.”

“Alright, then. How’s it work? You sit on a couch and she asks you how you’re feeling?”

“Something like that,” he said with a grin. “It’ll be a little awkward, just because it’s always kinda awkward. But I want you to know I’m glad you’re here with me. I wish…”

“Go on,” Sunset said encouragingly.

“I wish we’d done this together a long time ago,” he admitted. “Couples therapy, marriage counseling or something. Maybe it would’ve helped.”

Sunset leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Neither of us was ready to listen to one another for a long time,” she said. “We still made it through.”

Before too long they found themselves in a reception area, greeted by a slender, beautiful woman who they both knew quite well. Cadance had given a look of surprise to see the two of them, but gave a smile nonetheless. The couple was ushered into a secluded room and for a time Sunset remained silent, letting Cadance and her husband do the talking while she remained a dutiful spectator.

Sunset regarded her husband, taking in his posture and the way he spoke. He was certainly uncomfortable, hands in his lap and tightly wrung, and his words were disjointed. But his eyes hadn’t lost that gleam, and he remained determined. She hadn’t realized how much effort he was putting in.

“Tell me something, Marcos,” Cadance said. “I’ve been asking you to bring Sunset along with you to your sessions for a while now, and you’ve always been very hesitant. What caused the sudden change?”

He thought it over. “I don’t know, really,” he said. “I had another war dream, and I just didn’t want to go back to sleep, so I thought the best thing I could do was be around someone- anyone, really. Sunset was right there, so…”

“So you wanted to spend time with her again,” Cadance suggested.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Marcos replied. “We’ve been doing a lot better lately- fewer fights, more time around each other. It’s been good to be around her- I feel more like myself when she’s near me.”

“What was the dream about?”

Marcos shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said.

“That’s unusual,” Cadance remarked. “I know these counseling sessions aren’t your favorite thing to do, but you’ve typically pressed on. Is your wife causing you to hesitate?”

Marcos glanced over at his wife for only an instant, but Sunset could clearly see his eyes had gone dull. Desperation was forming within him.

“How much do you reveal to your wife about your thoughts?” Cadance asked. “Are you two still withdrawn from one another, or have you become intimate again?”

“Um-” Sunset slapped a hand over her mouth but it was too late.

Cadance looked over at her, a patient smile on the older woman’s face. “You don’t have to worry about interrupting anything, Sunset,” she said kindly. “What was it you were going to say?”

Sunset knew she was blushing a deep red at this point, but she had been put on the spot. “Well,” she said hesitantly, “We’ve been- like he said, we’ve been doing better lately the past few weeks, but… I know there’s still stuff you’re not telling me,” she added, turning to her husband. “I know there’s dreams you have, memories- you won’t share them, and I think they’re hurting you.”

“I- I just-” Marcos hesitated, looking more distressed than before.

“Marcos, it’s alright. Relax for a moment,” Cadance said gently. “Take a breath, and give it your best shot. Nobody in this room is going to judge you.”

“I just… nothing I’ve seen over there- all the battles we were in- they weren’t things I wanted to remember. I saw some rough stuff when I was a kid, growing up with my father and Wanyama, but this was on another level. I joined this fight so I could protect her. So she wouldn’t have to see what I’ve seen.”

“I know you did, but you’re just letting it hurt you now,” Sunset said imploringly. “Holding on to those memories and letting them stay hidden isn’t doing you any good.”

“They’re- no. You don’t need to hear this,” Marcos said flatly.

“On the contrary,” Cadance interjected, “I believe it’s exactly what must be said.”

Marcos gave a look of surprise and fear and Cadance nodded deeply. “Yes, Marcos, I meant it. You two are a husband and wife- nothing should divide you. You’re a united team, or at least should be. If this is getting in between the two of you, then it must be brought out into the open. You don’t have to keep all the gruesome details, but she is your wife- she deserves to be let in, because all she will do is help you heal.”

Sunset said nothing, her heart hammering madly inside her chest. She silently willed her husband to open up, to let the light gleam in his eyes again.

Marcos gave a sigh, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said wetly. “I’ll… I’ll give it a try.”

And so he did.

Author's Notes:

What is this madness? We didn't have to wait two months for another update? Am I really back for good this time? Let's certainly hope so. I haven't been writing this much in quite a while. After a year-long drought last year, it feels good to be back on the ball again. Here's hoping I can keep it up.

As usual, comments and corrections below. Hope you enjoy!
And trust me... it's only going to get harder from here.