“Enemy artillery! Head to shelter immediately!” The shout of a commanding officer reverberated throughout the clamorous halls.
Alarms blared within the fortress city, Bafen, as restless soldiers bustled about, only to be blown away by explosions that unexpectedly rocked the interior. The stone walls that once guarded the fortress for centuries provided little protection against the bombardment as it met the torrent of the new era.
Within the beleaguered Bafen beheld the Waltein Imperial army’s logistical centre of the 32nd Division, a critical supply chain feeding right to the new frontlines of the Northern theatre. Its fall meant the collapse of the logistics for the Northern Battlefront.
Amidst the panic, no one paid attention to the activities of a certain brown-haired and clumsy Second Lieutenant who served in the logistics supply battalion.
“Damnit, peaceful life my ass!” She cussed, nearly being hit by falling debris.
It was likely that she would be unable to seek shelter before the artillery bombardment would be over. Staying outside dramatically increased the chances of being nailed by the Myrellian Republic’s heavy ordinances.
However, luck be had, the shelling had revealed what seemed to be a previously concealed hurricane shelter. Though it may not be up to standard with current guidelines, it was better than nothing.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The bedraggled Second Lieutenant hurriedly rushed inside and slammed the heavy metal hatch behind her.
“Haaa, everything was just right… Those bastards just had to attack!” She sighed, catching her breath. The musty smell instantly made her choke, “Jeez, what the hell’s down here?”
Curiously scanning the dimly lit room, she saw several technical instruments strewn about, probably the works of the nerds that recently arrived from the capital.
Coming near a work desk, she noticed a coffee machine already brewing. With plans to wait out the assault here, she couldn’t help but want to have a mug of coffee. It was a commodity that officers only received once a week, and her coffee for the week was stolen by her commanding officer earlier…
Thus, what she was about to do was morally justified. She needed a cup from the amount of work she received anyways, with the whole outbreak of war.
Finding a nearby tin cup, she wiped it with a handkerchief before pouring the finished brew into it. The rumbling outside seemed to intensify, but that was of no concern to her as she took a blissful sip.
“Shit, too bitter. Where’s the sugar?” She spat out.
Turning her head, she found a container of white powder near a group of test tubes.
“Ah, there's the sugar.” It was close enough to the coffee machine, so it was logical. Or so she thought.
Although sugar was a commodity more privileged than coffee, the opportunity to use it over bully beef to dilute the bitterness of coffee was a privilege exclusive to nobles and high command.
Taking a handful, she sprinkled it into her coffee and hid another handful in her pocket. Desperate times called for desperate measures. A select dessert for those pompous bigwigs. Only to quickly regret every decision that led to this moment.
“Fuck, that wasn’t sugar. That was salt!” She spat out the coffee again, realising it tasted saline.
However, feeling her insides burning up after a few seconds, she realised that the salt was likely contaminated with some shitty strange chemicals.
Unfortunately, before she could reach a nearby tap for some water, the bunker rocked as the sound of explosions increased. With a defeated sigh, she downed the rest of the coffee before the roof collapsed.