The train car was dead silent. The previously talkative soldiers now stared straight ahead. They clutched their rifles close to their chests, praying for safe passage. Maxwell, meanwhile, merely stood by one of the slits in the wall, watching the world roll by. The tension ate away at the soldiers, many of whom were only on their first or second deployments. Avril tried to silently ease her own squad, offering the most reassuring smiles she could under the circumstances. It did little, and even the cheery girl couldn’t revitalize the scared soldiers.
Eventually, Maxwell turned away from the porthole. He walked over to the hooded man who had joined him when he left the car earlier.
“Cadieux, we need better vision,” he said.
“How do you suppose we do that?” the man replied, the whites of his eyes peeking out from the shade beneath his hood.
“Strap you in, then send you up,” Maxwell pointed to the ceiling of the train car. The hooded man slowly rose once more and walked over to the door leading to the third car. He uncoiled a thick rope from the fencing on Chestnut’s pen. On either end of the rope were thick metal clips, one of which he clipped onto a thick strap on the back of his body armor. The other end was first looped around a handle by the door before clipped onto the rope itself, creating a secure knot. As he finished, Maxwell threw open the door, the sudden pull of the high speed wind sent the ends of his mustache flapping. Without a word Cadieux shuffled past Maxwell and began to climb the rungs on the side of the car. When Cadieux’s coattails disappeared from view, Maxwell closed the door, leaving a small amount of room for the rope running through it. Wide eyed Vanguards watched this exchange in confusion, though ultimately none spoke up.
Louis Cadieux pulled himself onto the roof of the train car. He kept one hand on his hood, defiantly preventing the wind from biting at his skin. He gave a small tug on the rope, testing its strength before venturing forth towards the center of the roof. He moved low and slow, keeping crouched to prevent himself from being blown back. When he reached the middle of the car, he cautiously stood up, looking over the terrain.
The train passed through a rocky desert, dry golden sand was picked up by the wind and would follow the wake of the train. All around, short rocky crags created difficult terrain for on-foot navigation. The train tracks themselves were elevated above the uneven desert, as the rickety wooden platform was faster to construct than trying to blow through unstable cliff faces. The sparse vegetation was not enough to offset the monochrome yellow of the desert, and Louis had to constantly focus his attention to prevent himself from being hypnotized by the sands rushing by.
As he stood atop the train, Louis watched the ground slowly sink away from him and the train. The uneven desert gave way to sudden steep drops in elevation. The desert bluffs created ever taller mountains in the sand. The train continued straight on the flat, man-made tracks, while the cliffs below became ever larger and larger. Soon, Louis was able to look down and find himself staring into an abyss over 1,000 feet deep. The massive canyon below sat still, its open maw a shadowed beast of stone. Louis stood transfixed, glad he was tethered, but ever so morbidly curious as to what awaited him below. He reached for his rifle, taking it off his shoulder and into his arms.
The sound of feet on metal snapped Louis’ head away from the edge, as something could be heard moving onto the roof of another train car. Instinctively, Louis raised his gun, peering into the scope. Two cars over, he spotted another Myeran soldier, also tethered in the same way as him. This soldier carried a similarly modified rifle, and likewise made slow deliberate steps as he moved along the roof. As the man looked up at Louis, he quickly raised one arm and waved. Relieved, Louis lowered his weapon and waved back. He was glad to not be alone. Louis crouched back down, and watched the other soldier as he moved along the train. The man likewise settled in the center of his train car, and took the moment to stand up as well. As he stood up straight, the man let his brown hair whip in the wind for a moment.
A little thought-of fact is that guns make two distinct sounds when the trigger is pulled. The first is the sound of the gunshot. This comes from the explosion that occurs within the chamber of the gun as the air is forced out the barrel. This sound travels at 767.269 miles per hour, or simply, at the speed of sound. The second sound is that of the bullet making impact. The bullet being propelled by the gunshot travels faster than the speed of sound, outpacing air itself. As such, should a gun be fired, the first sound heard will be the gunshot, and the second will be an impact. Bullet impacts make a very distinct metallic sound, and so when one is shot at, they will likely notice when the bullet misses. When it doesn’t, the bullet will reach its target before even the sound of the bullet being fired.
Louis Cadieux watched the man stand up. He watched him pull his hat off his head and run his hand through his hair. He watched the man’s head disappear in a splatter of red. The hat flew down into the dark abyss whilst the body slumped off the edge and began to swing freely under the train, still tethered to the interior. In the same moment, Louis dropped to his stomach. “Oh shit!” he thought. In the next moment the crack of the gunshot echoed throughout the canyon. To anyone else in the 79th Vanguard, this sound would have been untraceable. Louis Cadieux, however, had the most perceptive eyes and ears of anyone in the unit. He instantly turned his head toward the right side of the train, and brought his scope to his eye.
Louis scanned the canyon for the source of the shot. In those few seconds he had to scan the cliffs, the only sounds were of the wind whistling in his ears and the body of his comrade slamming against the wooden beams beneath the tracks. Despite the adrenaline coursing through him, Louis meticulously outlined every passing rock with his rifle. He felt slight jitters of energy course through him that he had to let go with deep exhales. Truth be told, he was impressed. By his own estimate, simply hitting something at the distance he was looking at was a feat worthy of a top sniper, much less while the target is on a moving train. As he subconsciously began to distract himself with the math behind such a shot, he caught a brief glimmer of light in his scope.
Quickly adjusting the scope settings, Louis caught a glimpse of the sniper. Staring back at him was a humanoid machine. Louis’ heart skipped a beat for a moment as he took in the machine before him. It was a SIF: a Special Infantry Factor. It sat perfectly motionless in the mouth of a cave, its rifle steadied by a small pile of rocks. The machine was constructed of white, reflective metal that would have sooner given up its position if it wasn’t wearing a heavy layer of beige cloth to blend in with the stone around it. SIFs were known throughout the Myeran military as terrors on the battlefield. Unlike the simplistic, bulky, and unintelligent fodder machines that made up the bulk of the UBM forces, SIFs were known to be both intelligent and adaptable. It was said that a single SIF was capable of wiping out an entire Infantry unit, much less a Vanguard unit composed of new recruits. Some tales even went as far as to claim that SIFs were capable of wielding Agnir, manipulating unseen forces to produce magical results. This particular SIF held a large rifle in its arms, perfectly steadied as it aimed up at the train. Louis quickly fired at it, praying to Vivoran as he then ducked his head away from the edge. As bullets began flying over Louis’ head, Louis slammed his fist onto the roof below him three times in rapid succession.
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In the car beneath Louis, the distinct sound of three consecutive knocks on the roof quickly drew the attention of the people inside. Chestnut’s ears perked up and began to twitch as the bear sat upright, whipping its head around. The many recruits looked towards their captain, who had drawn his weapon.
“Weapons at the ready!” Maxwell commanded. He pushed the barrel of his rifle through the slit in the wall and scanned for targets. Laëtitia quickly jumped out of her seat and joined the captain at his side, leveling her rifle through the next slit over. Yelda and Damien joined her, standing side by side and patiently watching for movement through the slits in the walls. The panicked recruits sat still, transfixed in watching the experienced squadron. Maxwell turned to look over his soldier, where Avril then met the captain’s stern gaze. Her eyes widened before she quickly grabbed her rifle to follow suit. As Avril jumped out of her seat, the rest of the recruits were snapped out of their stupor and scrambled for vantage points along the interior of the train.
As the teenagers clamored to get into position, one boy nervously shouted, “What are we looking for?”
“UBM!” Maxwell shouted back.
“I don’t see anything moving,” Laëtitia said, her eyes fixated on the desert outside.
“Me neither,” Damien called.
“Same here,” Yelda replied. The following minute passed in utter silence. The passengers of the train stared out into the desert, desperately searching for any hint of enemy movement. The silence shattered with a sudden slamming on the door by Chestnut’s pen.
Maxwell and his squad immediately whipped around to point their guns at the door, where a voice called out, “It’s Lou! Open up!” Maxwell lowered his rifle and walked up to the door. He threw it open and Louis Cadieux quickly dove into the train car.
“What’s the situation?” Maxwell slammed the door while speaking aloud.
“North side,” Louis replied between rapid breaths, still lying on the floor. “One sniper, and a few more in the higher caves. SIFs. There’s a lot of ‘em.” At the word “SIF” the many recruits turned a pale white. Their rapid heartbeats thumped loudly in their chests, slamming them and lodging a ubiquitous lump in each of their throats.
“Are you certain?” Maxwell yelled at Louis. Louis merely stayed on the floor, nodding slowly.
“Fuck me,” Damien ran a hand through his hair. “What’s the move cap?”
“We—” Maxwell was cut off by an explosion on the side of the train. Multiple recruits were sent flying over Avril, who was still sitting on the floor. She looked up to see the section of the wall where she had been looking out was now missing. The harsh desert sunlight burned her eyes, but was quickly blocked by two machines hanging onto the sides of the train, looking back at her. Avril let out an ear-piercing wail as she desperately scrambled backwards on the floor.
“SIFs!” Maxwell cried. He quickly raised his rifle and fired at one of the machines. The bullet struck the SIF in the chest, and the machine jolted from the impact. However, the bullet did little more than leave a black mark on the machine’s chestplate. The two SIFs jumped into the train car, brandishing long, blackened blades built into their forearms. One recruit was unlucky enough to be standing right by the two. Frozen in fear, he helplessly stared at the machines. One turned to look at him. With no eyes or mouths to speak of, the boy stared into the metal faceplate. Without emotion, the machine raised an arm, and swung its blade across the man’s neck. His head fell, and rolled to Avril’s feet. She watched in horror as mouth moved, failing to produce a sound. “Why?” he asked, before his eyes forever lost their light. Avril could only scream.
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Maxwell pulled the bolt on his rifle, chambering the next round. He fired once more, catching one of the two machines’ attention.
“Attack!” Maxwell commanded, once again pulling the bolt back.
Damien charged at the nearest machine with his bayonet. He sprinted across the train, aiming for the exposed wiring near the SIF’s neck. However, as he closed in next to it, the SIF parried the charge with one arm, deflecting Damien’s bayonet, and then swinging towards him with its other arm. Avril watched as the blade neared Damien’s neck, about to repeat the scene with the boy from moments before. However, before the blade could connect, the rifle in Damien’s arms began to glow a bright white. From the tip of the bayonet all the way back to the butt of the stock, the rifle shone with a brilliant light. Before her eyes, Damien’s rifle began to shift, the white light that outlined his gun shifted into an amorphous, shapeless mass, before regaining a solid shape in the form of a cavalry blade. The brilliant white light then died down, and where Damien’s rifle used to be in his hands, he now held a curved blade. He shifted his weight and turned his body, managing to block the SIF’s strike with the new sword.
“What the…” Avril wondered aloud. She stared in disbelief as Damien proceeded to dance with the SIF, blocking attacks and countering with a surprising proficiency in swordplay. To her right, the other SIF was being fired upon by some of the other recruits. However, their bullets would miss the SIF completely. Despite its bulky frame, the machine moved with inhuman grace and speed. The machine ducked, spun, and even outright deflected bullets with its blades as it approached the firing line. Other shots, either through exceptional aim or perhaps sheer luck, would strike the SIF in the chest and head, though to little effect. Bullets began to ricochet throughout the car, striking one man in the leg, causing him to collapse onto the floor. When their guns began to click, needing a reload, the SIF took the opportunity to cut down the nearest soldier. In a panic, two more troops attempted a desperate bayonet charge against the machine. One boy struck the machine’s armor plate dead-on, causing his bayonet to snap into two pieces. The other, a girl the same age as Avril, managed to jab her bayonet into a gap in one of the machine’s arm joints. Her eyes lit up and a devilish grin spread across her face as she pulled the bayonet out. She went to strike again, but the machine quickly stepped back and thrust its blades at the two. The blades went straight through, and when it pulled its arms back, the two bodies fell to the floor. The machine turned its head to Avril on the floor. Desperately, Avril reached around, looking for a weapon. She found a rifle on the floor and quickly pointed it at the SIF. It lunged for her and she pulled the trigger. The click of the rifle failing to find a bullet in its chamber deafened Avril.
Despite this, the SIF was struck by a bullet in the side of its head. From the other side of the train car, Louis had leveled his rifle in his arms, and was peering down his scope. He pulled back the bolt and fired again. The second shot struck the exact same spot on the side of the SIF’s head. The machine stumbled for a moment, and before it could regain footing, it was hit once again. Then a flurry of shots struck the machine’s chest as Laëtitia and Yelda joined in shooting the machine. The machine raised its arms to block the attacks as it backed up towards the hole in the wall. At the same time, Damien managed to force the machine he was fighting towards the hole as well.
“Fire!” Maxwell called, pointing at the two SIFs. Collectively, the troops of the 79th Vanguard fired volleys of bullets at the two SIFs. The collective cacophony of the unit’s shots prevented the two machines from moving. They held up their arms as their armor was stripped off by the barrage. Piece by piece, the white reflective metal that shielded the machines gave way to complex steel innards. After a brief moment, the bullets stopped as each rifle in the train car clicked. The machines stood still, their arms still crossed in front of their bodies. For just a second, it seemed that even the world beyond the train stopped. Avril could still feel her heart thump with each passing moment. Reflexively, she reached for her pocket. She wrapped her fingers around a clip with a full stock of bullets. Desperately, she pulled it from her pocket and fumbled it into her rifle. As she did so, so too did the other Vanguards. Spurred by Avril’s movements, they all collectively went to reload.
Before she could finish, a new shadow was cast over Avril’s face. She looked up from the rifle to see a woman hanging onto the outside of the train car, peering in through the hole the SIFs had made. Her skin was exceedingly pale, so much so that the veins under her skin were easily visible to the naked eye. She wore a black, full-body suit with tubes running along the back. Through light violet eyes, she studied the interior of the train. The woman effortlessly clung to the side of the car with one arm, her auburn hair waving in the wind like a flag dedicated to the beauty of the woman it was attached to. She then swung herself once and jumped into the car, landing with all the grace of a professional acrobat. In stark contrast with the rigid machines beside her, the woman’s body flowed effortlessly, swaying with the train as it rocked, making her seem as though the world moved around her. All eyes were on her, and slowly, her cheeks lifted into an unsettling smile, revealing blindingly white teeth behind her otherwise pursed lips. The silence in the train was deafening, and as the frozen soldiers continued to watch her, she looked up to the two SIFs.
“Why aren’t you stupid things killing them?” She raised both arms and slapped each machine on the back, pushing them forwards a step.
Slowly, the two SIFs lowered their arms, much of their internal machinery exposed. With significant damage to their many joints, they moved much slower, though they moved nonetheless. One attempted to step away from the hole, taking heavy steps towards Avril.
Damien let loose a war cry, yelling as he once again charged the machine. It raised an arm to attempt to strike him, but could no longer keep up. Damien ran his sword through the exposed chest of the machine, sticking the blade out the other end. He struggled for a moment to wrest it free, but failing to do so, he let go of the handle and dove to his side, narrowly avoiding a wide overhead swing from the SIF.
The other SIF raised its arms to attack the unarmed Damien. He managed to roll to the side, dodging the first swing, but the second blade cut him along his arm, leaving a bloody cut across his bicep. Damien jumped back, clutching his arm with his other hand. The machine stepped towards him and raised its blades again, threatening to finish the job. At this moment, Avril found herself crying out. She found herself standing up and rushing towards the machine. With her shoulder out, she tackled the machine, pushing it with all her might. With surprising strength, she managed to shove the SIF towards the woman. The woman merely stepped to the side, letting the SIF pass through the hole and plummet down into the jaws of the dark ravine.
The woman let out a shrill cackle, bending over as she did so. Meanwhile, the troops of the 79th Vanguard managed to finally finish loading their weapons. As many of them pulled back the bolts on their rifles, the woman stood straight up and brandished small metal balls, two in each hand. Before anyone could aim their guns, the woman quickly threw the balls into the room, scattering them along the length of the train car.
“Grenade!” Maxwell yelled. He dove to the side, away from the metal ball rolling towards him. At the same time, Yelda slid through the fence surrounding Chestnut and took cover behind the bear. Laëtitia dove atop the metal ball, covering it with her body and bracing for imminent death. Instead, a deep purple mist began spewing from beneath Laëtitia’s body. Quickly, Maxwell jumped up and pulled Laëtitia off of the ball. “It’s gas!” he yelled. The other gas bombs likewise began to hiss, and quickly began to fill the interior of the train with purple mist.
Many recruits covered their mouths, pulling up their shirts. Those that didn’t manage to do so in time began to choke, coughing their lungs out as they collapsed to the ground. The violent wracking coughs turned to blood, with a few of the teens beginning to seize on the floor as the poison entered their bodies. Avril barely managed to cover her face with her hands. The room quickly took on a purple hue as the gas created a thick, imperceptible fog. From somewhere beyond the blurry gas, the pale woman could be heard cackling ever louder.
Covering his mouth, Maxwell shouted into the car, “Lou! Tell Levonne we’re moving! Grab some chutes from the next car!”
Without a word, Louis pulled his hood over his head. He turned and disappeared into the next train car. Not long after, the train shook violently, followed by another explosion in the wall. Opposite of the first hole, another explosion had blown the train car open. This time, two more SIFs jumped in, immediately eviscerating the last members of Avril’s squad. In the chaos, however, Avril was completely lost. She began to violently cough as her vision blurred. She desperately crawled along the floor towards the only sound she could make out above the gunshots and ragged coughing: the woman’s maniacal laughter.
Slowly, Avril dragged herself across the floor, passing the head of her fellow man, still asking what had happened. She pushed past shell casings from the volley of bullets and over the shattered metal armor that had protected the SIFs from those very bullets. Her vision turned red, blood welling up in her tear ducts. However, she still made out the silhouette of the woman against the sunlight. With the last dregs of her strength, Avril managed to lunge forth off the floor, grabbing one of the tubes protruding from the woman’s back.
The woman looked down to see a girl not much younger than herself helplessly grasping onto her. She found it amusing. With a quick shake, the girl lost her grip on the tube, and fell to the floor. Desperately, Avril grabbed the woman’s ankles, holding on for dear life.
“Well, I guess that settles that,” the woman chuckled as she stared down at Avril. She took a step back, dragging Avril’s body with her. As her heels brushed with the open air beyond the hole in the train, the woman spread her arms out wide. The woman closed her eyes and let gravity take its hold, pulling her out of the train, and over the edge towards the rocky teeth of the ravine below. As she began to fall, Avril still clutched onto her legs, no longer certain of what was to come. However, she then felt another hand grab onto her ankle, and as the weight of the woman threatened to drag her down, Avril let go, and put her life into the strong grip of her savior. The woman fell back, though before her body fell completely out of the train, she suddenly bent her knees and propelled herself away from the train. The woman flew perpendicularly away from the train, practically gliding along the wind as she effortlessly cleared the gap between the train and the ravine below. She landed on the top of the ravine, nearly a dozen yards away from the train, and rolled backwards. She finished her performance by standing up, her arms still held out at her sides. Avril locked eyes with the woman, who gave her a princess-like wave before she disappeared from sight.
“Nowhere to go but down!” a man’s voice shouted from above Avril. She managed to lift her head upwards to see that the hand wrapped around her ankle belonged to the goggled man who had passed through the train car earlier. The man’s frizzy hair whipped ever-more violently as he hung onto the exterior of the train with his other arm. Hanging off his shoulder were a number of black backpacks that Avril recognized as parachutes. Each clung to his back by a single strap.
“If you want to survive the fall, I’d suggest grabbing one!” The man shouted. His face bore a grin not too unlike the woman from earlier, though his eyes suggested an adrenaline-fueled excitement rather than the woman’s sadistic merriment. Avril managed to reach upwards, grabbing the man’s arm as she curled up. She pulled herself the last few feet and desperately grabbed the strap of one of the backpacks. As she did so, the man let go of Avril’s ankle, and suddenly she was in free fall. The only thing that came down with her was the black bag, barely held in her arm by its strap. As she fell, Avril pulled the bag to her chest, and pulled the cord on the side. A small chute shot out of the bag, and as it caught the wind, it nearly yanked the bag from Avril’s arms. She desperately wrapped her arms around the bag, holding it to her chest like a newborn baby. Despite this, she was already close to the ground, and found herself still falling extremely quickly. She slammed into the side of the ravine, and lost her grip on the bag. She fell a short few feet before hitting a cliffside, bouncing off, and tumbling down the side of the ravine into the darkness below.