Compared to being high up on the wall or the large tower, the cold was unbearable, and the stench of burnt flesh and rotting corpses permeated the air making it almost impossible to breath normally. Sunlight was blocked out by ash and large grey clouds, and the brunt, broken, muddy landscape they stood on made walking a difficult task. Embers and ash rained from above landing on the smaller-than-platoon-sized element walking through a place where no man should be. A heavy mist fell upon them as they stood in the middle of nowhere.

Sergeant Randall had observed the burning camp from his small perch on a mound of dirt. He didn’t need binoculars to see the heavy smoke or red-hot fire cutting through the mist. It wasn’t long before he spotted what looked to be a patrol sized group escaping from the base. The smoke, mist and multi-colored clothing he wore hid him and his fellow Rangers from any visual vulnerabilities they posed when walking alongside the Princess and the three knights Marco, Eugene and Anne. Though it wasn’t BMNT, or Begin Morning Nautical Twilight, it was more than enough to stay hidden from the naked eye.

The frozen wind bit against his skin and blew against his back. He lowered himself from his observation point and lowered himself into a small ditch to discuss what he had seen with the others. After divulging the information, a decision was made to either eliminate the group, or hopefully, pass by without incident. Their primary mission was to secure or kill what was believed to be the base commander, and it would be beneficial if they didn’t get it to needless engagements with an unknown enemy.

Wandering in the direction of their primary target, it was an hour before they even got close enough to another scouting element. Concealing themselves in the nearby craters caused by God-knows what, the Rangers that still had their night vision capabilities, Green, Malkovich, Richard, and Simon kept watch as they stared at their secondary targets three-hundred meters ahead. Contemplating on how to proceed, Thompson directed his men to two firing positions where they would have the best fire lines to set up a kill-zone.

The idea was to set up a crossfire so that the enemy would have no chance to properly respond, yet the captain remained cautious as Patterson and Malkovich notified him that they were in position with Princess Lecca who was also participating in the ambush.

Taking out the patrol silently would be the key to getting to their primary target. Stabilizing his rifle within the confines of his shoulder, the captain took aim and slowly breathed out as his gloved finger wrapped around the trigger of his firearm.

“Got two-look to be team leaders at the front, by the ember covered wood.” Malkovich’s deep-soft voice played over the radio in a low hum, the white noise behind his words filled the captain’s mind.

Spotting the targets at the designated azimuth angle, Thompson slowly maneuvered himself, for what felt like the hundredth time and aligned the horse-shoe reticle above the chest above one of the target’s chests allowing his rangefinder, within the reticle, to do the heavy-lifting.

“Fire.” Depressing the trigger, Thompson sent a three-round burst into the center of the first man’s chest. Mike and Green followed up by double tapping the secondary target in the head and pelvis, a pool of blood emerged from what had been a head less than a second ago.

Even with the suppressors attached to the majority of the Ranger’s gun-barrels, the remaining hostiles within the group reacted to the sudden sound, with two moving towards their comrades that had just slumped to the ground with gaping holes in their bodies.

A second wave of quieted gunfire quickly dispatched the remaining five targets, the holes in their bodies ranged from clean kills to bloody messes.

“They’re down!” Simon shouted as he rose from his position of fire alongside Eugene and Marco, weapons drawn and raised.

Several more shouts of an unknown language came from afar as more soldiers silhouetted themselves against the smoke and mist. One of the soldiers, a young woman drew her blade as she suddenly sprinted forward at inhuman speeds towards the three that rose from the ground.

Reacting quickly to the threat, Lecca fired a mana bullet towards the woman’s abdomen, deafening her ears momentarily. The bullet pierced through the woman’s stomach making her gurgle on the flood of blood and spit that filled her mouth. Being wide enough, the woman’s entrails spilled out on to the muddy ground as she fell to her knees. Placing a follow-up shot through the woman’s head, a sickening scream was hear as brain matter was splattered on the ground, Mike readjusted his aim as he re-engaged the reinforcements.

Soon after the rest of the hostiles fell backwards, their corpse laid on the cold-wet ground.

Moving quickly, Thompson once again led his men. It felt different; being under the command of the princess, then immediately reigning in control during combat, it was almost as if he were cooperating with a CIA or foreign asset that would’ve been assigned to his squadron or platoon during an operation in another country.

Clearing some of the mist a small amount of rain fell from the grey and blackened clouds. It pelted the battlegrounds and made his clothes wet. Not far ahead, there was a large collection of the unknown soldiers running across the no-man’s-land, each seemed to be guarding a central figure in the center of the formation. Thompson assumed it was the target, yet at three-hundred meters, he wasn’t sure at all if his assumption was correct.

Don’t bother with those thoughts Focus on the mission; get this guy, then return home. Thompson told himself as he and the others marched forward towards the next firing positions, they would each occupy.

Closing the distance to one-hundred and fifty-two meters, Mike maneuvered behind a small set of weathered supply crates seemingly left by whoever attacked the settlement of Stratega first. At the head of the large group Captain Thompson called out two-hundred meters earlier, a man wearing similar black combat gear to the one he and the princess encountered the previous night had stood next to several other soldiers in grey uniforms that oddly resemble both the traditional German Bundeswehr soldiers from the first world war, and American GI during the Korean War.

“Everyone, claim a target.” Thompson said quietly over local communications. “We’ll take down a majority of them with a sync-shot.”

“I got the far-left guy.” Malkovich answered.

“Is that a rifleman? He’s mine.” Green said.

“Far-right. The loner.” Patterson said.

“One by the destroyed building.” Simon said.

“I got the guy beside him.” Richard said.

“One by the commander.” Thompson said, “He’s mine.”

“I’ve got his escort.” Baker said.

“I’ve got my target.” Lecca said as she kept her lever-action rifle on one of the soldiers.

“Mike, kick this thing off.” Thompson ordered.

Aligning his holographic sight on the man wearing black combat gear, Mike transmitted his order.

“Fire! Fire!”

A flurry of suppressed and unsuppressed gunshots rang out. Eight bodies slumped to the ground dead.

All Mike could do was watch in horror as the man in black combat gear faced his direction. A shield covered his entire body, and it had successfully been casted faster than the bullet he had just fired. With the older man beside the identified mage cowering behind the shield, all the Ranger’s knew that the man was the base commander.

Firing more bullets behind the mage, several soldiers in grey and olive-drab combat gear were killed as they rushed to respond the new threat with unknown rifles in hand. They fired back, the muzzle flashes giving away their position.

“Secure the objective. Engage all targets!” Thompson cried out as a hail of bullets were traded between himself and the opposing forces.

“Hostile down!” Richard cheered as he killed one of the soldiers.

Terrified shouts came from the other side as Green, Simon and Malkovich communicated with each other as they low-crawled to several pieces of cover along the mud. Covering their movements, Mike found himself taking aim at what looked to be four or five hostiles that were mimicking their movements. Two dropped dead instantly while the others scattered behind small rocks and craters.

Plucking his only grenade of his belt, Mike pulled the pin as he threw it to the concealed opposing forces. Realizing what he threw, two soldiers scrambled onto their feet, but it was too late, shrapnel instantly went through their bodies, with one of soldiers being blasted in half by the pressure as his torso launched into the air. Though only killing two thanks to the grenade being largely ineffective in an open environment, it was enough to dislodge several enemies from their covers as they scrambled like rats and took cover in the ditches.

Staying in their entrenched positions, Lecca moved along the ground as she shifted to a small brick wall. Rising her head just far enough to look over on to the battlefield, she saw eight hostile soldiers left save for the unknown mage and the base commander who were shifting away from the firefight. Four bullets whistled above her head as she snapped back into cover. She concluded that it was her silver hair that stood out like a sore thumb.

With the wind changing direction, the smoke still emanating from the camp began to blow over the battlefield. Lecca’s eyes burned as she calmed herself. This was the second time she had truly been in direct combat, the first being the ambush on the convoy she was supposed to take to the settlement now behind her. Taking her rifle and peeking above the cover she hid behind, a couple of soldiers moved to her position in the hope of smoking her out. She quickly dispatched the two, the now gaping holes within both proved as much.

Alongside his chest burning due to his ribs, Mike was in a similar state. Though he still had his magazines in his pack, his plate carrier was technically ruined. The fibers that once held the ballistic plate in place was effectively burnt to a crisp and was non-usable for any period of time, thus he was running without any protection except the helmet on his head.

He cursed to himself as he suppressed the fighters running towards the princess. This gave her the opportune time to move from cover; she materialized a small dagger in her left, though it was a blade, she reached out her right hand. A bright blue hue emanated from her hand almost like gas and settled over the enemies she was now rushing.

“Lecca!” Mike screamed as he saw one of the soldiers aim a rifle at her.

The soldiers pulled the trigger, and the weapon failed to fire.

Rushing in front of the man, Lecca made his stumble back as she withdrew her combat knife. Blood splattered on her arms as she dragged the blade across the man’s knife, he stood their gasping for air as he fell, drowning in his own blood, onto the ground. Before the second solider could attach his bayonet to the end of his rifle, she rushed him peircing the poor boy’s gut making him recoil from the impact. Removing the blade from the boy’s abdomen, Lecca cringed in anticipation as she held it in the reverse grip and dragged it across his neck killing him instantly.

Standing not far away, the man wearing the black combat gear and the base commander’s eyes widened. Over the shots of Mike and the other Rangers, Lecca stood up as she turned towards the sound of feet impacting a small puddle on the ground. Lowering the shield that he used to protect himself and the base commander, the combatant withdrew the sword hanging from his hip. In the blink of an eye a gust of hot wind was launched from his blade, making the princess staggered as she held up her knife and hand casting her nullification magic.

“You bitch!” The man roared, his thick accent breaking. Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, his eyes flickered towards the remaining men around him being cut down one-by-one by the soldiers he had faced once before. Knocking a clenched fist against the helmet that covered his entire head, the man readied himself as he like the woman before him held his hand up as he casted a spell.

Spouting a pillar of fire from his hand, a violent breeze instantly stopped the spell. The man looked with wide eyes upon the woman who was now charging at him, knife in hand.

“Null magic!?” The man said as he parried the strike the princess made with his short sword, sparks were crated, and the gunfire around them intensified as Lecca’s men pushed forward pressing their advantage.

Not giving him a chance to react, she used her arm to swipe at his stomach making him choke before he gripped her head and slammed it into his knee. Dazed she stepped backwards as the man swung his sword downwards, shifting her weight and skidding her boots against the mud, she tackled him forced him on the ground, his silver swords was removed from his grip as it slid into a nearby puddle of water. Grabbing her knife, she swiftly cut at the man’s neck, yet the blade was caught by his gloved right hand.

Blood dripped onto his clothing as he found the strength to throw Lecca of. Springing from the ground he horridly walked away, turning his attention to the opposing forces, he cast several bolts of fire well over safe levels and he shot them into the battlefield.

A man on the other side let out a blood-curling scream of pain as he fell to the ground, his weapon falling to his side as the distant gunfire began to dwindle, yet Lecca was not done. She materialized the same sword the man had been using in her hand, and she let out a wary cry as she charged the soldier while casting disruption field preventing anyone else from casting magic.

“They’re down! Simon, Lecca, kill the mage!”

Slamming her boots into the ground, Lecca chucked mud at the man’s face. He shouted as he wiped the dirt from his visor, yet before he knew it a sharp pain shot from his shoulder like a lightning bolt. Pushing the princess away violently and diving into the mud, the man brandished his sword as he looked towards the sergeant who had just injured him with his gun. Narrowing his eyes and sprinting from the ground, he prepared himself to be shot as he suddenly rushed the gunman.

Despite being shot, and running with heavy armor on, the man was quick on his feet as he sprinted to Mike with the princess hot on his tail. The sergeant clicked his tongue as he noticed the woman sprinting behind his target, were he to shoot the man or were he to miss completely, the 6.5 bullet would either severely wound Lecca or outright kill her if it hit her in the wrong place. Leaving his rifle attached to its sling by his side, Mike withdrew his handgun in anticipation for the princess to move from behind the attacker.

Keeping his forearms outstretched the gunsights wobbled every-so-slightly as he hesitated to place his finger on the trigger. “Get the fuck out of the way!” He screamed breaking his voice. Answering his call, Lecca stepped five feet to the right clearing her of any immediate danger.

Her brown eyes shrunk as the soldier lunged at Mike. Two bright flashes emerged from the barrel of his firearm; four bullets were fired into the man’s chest, blood rushed out of his wounds, yet he kept pace. With the man swinging the blade downwards, Mike stepped back out of reflex and aimed his handgun instinctively firing three rounds again into the attacker’s chest dropping him to the ground instantly.

With the pain registering in the soldier’s mind, he yelled in pain as he rolled around on the ground clutching the wounds inflicted by the handgun. His sword laid not far away, and using the last of his strength, he used a small flame he casted to cauterize some of the holes in his chest. Having no options remaining, the man grabbed a small dagger within his waistband. Being oblivious to what was about to happen, Mike questioned whether he should lower his weapon and provide medical attention to the soldier he shot, yet once the man came to his feet, he flinched preventing him from stopping the man from running the ten feet needed to reach him.

“No! No! No!” Mike said as shot the fresh magazine he had loaded not a second earlier. Four bullets for a total of twelve bullets fired. That was enough to finally bring down the man that had hunted both himself and the princess the previous night.

Breathing heavily, he lowered the gun into its holster on the side of his body. Walking up to him, the princess stood beside him with a pained expression. Motioning for her to help him walk back, she snaked herself under his arms and supported them as their boots made a trail back to where the other Rangers waited.

His ragged breaths fell silent. His muddy gloves gave way to slim, pale fingers that traced the etching paint on his rifle as it slowly fell to his side. He reached out and pulled on dirtied fabrics and a brunt body.

Only two months had passed since Sergeant Randall and the remaining members of Task Force Spare arrived in this brave-fantastical world. He should’ve known that continuing down this line of work would’ve killed someone eventually, yet he chalked it up to crazed hypothesis and guesses. For some reason he could still hear the body’s cheered voice, even in quiet moments he enjoyed it; now all he heard was silence, the everlasting grief that spread over him prevented even the smallest tear from being shed.

Falling on his knees and resting on the heels of his boots, he took heavy breaths as he looked at the person across from him, Sergeant Malkovich who was sitting on the ground cradling his weapon vertically in his arms. “A fucking fire bolt… Green…” Randall whispered to himself. Defeated even in victory over the unknown enemy, Mike slumped further onto the ground ignoring the searing pains moving through his chest and legs.

He felt shameful. For what reason? He did not know. Perhaps it was the fact that he was the “last one” to truly interact with the now-dead kid. Perhaps he saw apart of himself die with Green. It’s not like he didn’t know him, they spent plenty of time working together as soldiers, as Rangers; with the sudden transference, that was the time he had to learn more about the Private First Class.

Standing behind him surrounded by his fellow Rangers, his new commanding officer, his new confidant, Princess Leccamaradel Emma Arish the First-Born Princess, watched, feeling the familiar warmth of tears escaping behind her shrunken brown eyes.

It was a guess; unlike her he didn’t know what he felt in this moment. Green served under his command and looked up to him as both a role model and a guardian angel, though cruel at times. Placing his hand on the still warm body, Mike retrieved the dog tags around the ghostly-white face of Green. He opened the small pouch were he carried Corporal Ramirez’s and placed it inside.

The azure sky shined high above, the sun casting shadows through the now clearing-thick smoke. A sliver of light shined upon the destroyed settlement, the Volunteer Corps and three knights that had refused to go on the mission were already gone, off to report their findings to the king.

Grasping the tan-colored holster sitting on the right thigh of Green’s body, Mike slowly stood up and turned around towards the small cluster of Rangers surrounding the princess. As he stumbled forward, almost falling due to his broken ribs, the Rangers moved aside as he approached the silver-haired woman. Taking her hand Mike fell to the ground, Lecca knelt beside him grasping both his shoulder and the object he had forced into one of his hands.

“Why-” She cut herself off as Mike stared at the object in her hands; a FDE colored handgun with a small airborne insignia drawn on a piece of tape resting on the pistol grip.

Removing his hand, Mike breathed, stood, turned, and left.

Publicly Available Information: Rules of Engagement:

Formally, rules of engagement refer to the orders issued by a competent military authority that delegate when, where, how, and against whom any military force may be used against. In the field of battle each individual soldier is held up to these standards dictated by their superiors, and there have been serious implications for any who wish to violate such orders.

In the fog of war, there have been both documented and undocumented reports of soldiers taking their orders under their own authority and delegating such decisions to their commanding officers, or local non-commissioned officers.