After a tedious amount of bumps and pauses, the vehicle finally came to a full stop. Tolia, awfully exhilarated from the current meta, immediately disembarked from the 6 wheeled monstrosity. The other soldiers soon came by as well, clutching their tools of war as they should be. Five kilometers from Holsen. I hope they're fine. Tolia thought, before being tagged along by one of the superiors, which were accompanying him indirectly through the driver seat back at the vehicle.
The man, scared to turn his head, mustered enough to peek over. A gnarly face, filled with red, immediately followed. "..sorry sir." he abidded his time to reply. When he expected to be punched, he was then abandoned. The officer loitered off from his vecinity, following to the late Jacob--a good friend that Tolia had only known for so long.
Taking the chances, the man profiled the area around him. It was different, very different from Holsen indeed. Posts, walls and mounted machinery was toppled onto hills, past mountains and scenery, as if someone tampered with God's soil, adding their own bit of 'security' to the universe. This oughta be quick, he remarked.
But, as soon as the officer came back to the rest of the eight, he rallied them up, beckoning them to follow him into the basecamp--or temporary troop cache. Like those castles in the pictures he once remembered, Tolia shivered at the glooming, depressing state of the walls, all worn out, grey and immediately brimming with gunsmoke.
Slowly, he took hold of his gun again, finding their stock similar to the one he used to craft with his younger brothers. Though, the only defining factor of these were the live copper, tipped and edged to murder in the first place. Tools of the war. Another reason to kill. He absolutely despised every bit of the silver linings, seamless wood and sturdy hairtrigger. He eyed them with disgust.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Bumping into the third time today, to another recruit, Tolia was half blinded by the fallen helmet. "Pardon me! Just.. my idiocy." he "No sweat. You okay?" they asked back. "Fine and dandy, thank you for asking." he said again. Upon fixating his eyes on the person he noticed, he also noted the line that had formed from the front doors and into the building. "Those blokes are waiting to get their registry. We're here because we didn't had a choice. Bugger." she retorted, the voice being identifiable as female. "They took women as well? Preposterous." Tolia.. mildly cussed. Soon, she laughed.
"..fine, maybe, but I wasn't like that all the time." Tolia defended. "You're just too sweet for the army, Anatoly. I'm guessing you're going to assign yourself as a squad's medic? Seems fitting for your past job, mate." Tolia processed her words for a bit, before nodding quite weakly. "That'd be a fantastic idea, and it would logically be easy for me to take." He paused. "..I just don't know if I'm ready for it." he admitted. She looked at him with disbelief, and glee. "Hey, bucko, don't demote yourself from that. Have some confidence. We'll get through this, it's not like they're going to jam us full with morphine, before taking us as robots, right?" she insisted.
Soon, the line was decreasing in length, but only by a person. "--Of course! Well, I hope so. Let's not talk about the possibilities." he commented, slightly grinning at his own dismay. It was just then that the line was short enough to interrupt the conversation. "Lucky me. See you in Markus Centre." she said. "Adieu, Rose.".
What came next, were the last minutes Tolia would reside into his mind, before the accident starts, before it begun.
~ end of chapter 0; grasshoppers ~