8AM November 8th, 1587 - Dijon, Kingdom of France My involvement in these events began in the small farming village of Dijon, Kingdom of France, on November 8th, 1587. Sometimes, I like to think back on my time in Dijon. Back then, everything was much more peaceful; the sunrise on the Ouche river really was beautiful. Unfortunately, the struggle against the Beans has been raging ever since, and I have known little peace. Maybe it is for the best; if I was at peace, I would have already given up.

Barry,

I want to say two things. One, I may be your sister, but I am not a baby! Do not dare to call me a baby again, I mean it! Two, don’t you dare ignore the part of my letter where I asked you to not get yourself killed!

If you worry about me, Barry, truly do worry about me, then you would promise me that you will not get yourself killed. If you can not do that, then I am sorry, but you are too far gone. I know you. You are my brother. The brother that I know would not be so primed to throw his life away for something as fleeting as glory. And the brother that I know is not very open with his emotions, so I will not press you to try to find the reason why you seem so committed to getting yourself killed. What I will do is say this:

There are people that care about you, Barry. Do not let them down by dying just yet, ok?

And I am sorry to break it to you, but your theories sound insane. All these big conspiracies are just in your head, and at this point I can not tell if you actually believe what you are saying or not! At first, I thought you were joking, but now I do not know if you are. I worry about you sometimes, you know.

Jeez, at this rate you are never going to find a nice girl to settle down with. I am joking, of course. At least, that is what I want you to think. Or is me telling you that I think you not finding a wife is a joke is just me lying, and I actually think the opposite of that? I do not know if that made sense, nor do I care.

But seriously, Barry, do not get yourself killed. I should not have to say that more than once, but here we are.

I hope your day is great,

Sofia.

Schmidt watched as Captain Bösch stood in silence, waiting for the soldiers to gather.

Bösch, Dietrich, Sauer, and Gladisch were among the group that stood in front of the increasing crowd of soldiers. Bösch stood on a small table taken from the nearby market, his face easily visible from within the crowd. The gunfire had slowed; despite Bösch giving the order for every soldier to gather and prepare to execute an escape plan, some soldiers had ignored him and remained on the wall. The banging on the gates continued, and the footfalls of the huge Bean monster approaching from the west were unrelenting.

The absurdity of the events of that morning was juxtaposed with the seriousness of Bösch, his silver mustache waving slightly in the breeze as he stood stern atop his table, his polished plate armor shining brilliantly in the morning sun.

Rob and Jakob stood with him, all of them silent as they waited. Rob was shaking slightly with his arms crossed over his stomach, his face hard. He gave Schmidt a nervous smirk; if they weren’t about to die, he probably would’ve made a joke about Bösch being so short that he had to stand on a table.

Jakob was looking around the crowd, his hands picking at the end of his shirt. Schmidt couldn’t imagine how he felt, having a wife and daughter to worry about. If the Beans were able to overpower a trained Empire soldier, they would have no trouble against them.

Schmidt became aware of the anxious whispers of the soldiers around him. They were restless; some were angry that Bösch had paused the fighting, scared that the Beans would break through the gates at any moment, while others were relieved to take their minds off the monsters outside. But most of the soldiers were terrified to face the reality of their own deaths, using all of their energy to simply wait to hear Bösch’s plan to decide whether or not to hold on to the tiny sliver of hope they had left.

“ATTENTIOOON!” Bösch shouted from atop his table, making Schmidt jump. Bösch cleared his throat loudly and continued. “The monsters that attack us will henceforth be referred to as Beans! We have developed a plan, not only to escape Dijon, but to also return valuable information about the Beans to the rest of the Empire.”

The whispers among the crowd died down. “The plan is as follows: We will gather five cannons and aim them towards the eastern gate. We will shoot them all at once, destroying the gate and any Beans lying in wait on the other side. From there, we will move towards the stable outside of our camp and use the horses inside to escape to Stuttgart. Although there may not be enough horses to transport every soldier, do not worry; our current knowledge suggests that even a moderate jog can easily outpace a Bean.”

The banging at the gates punctuated each of Bösch’s sentences. “I know this plan sounds insane, and not particularly well thought out. That’s because it is. However, I feel it will provide the best chance for our collective survival. I know each of you personally. I know that you want to see your families and your friends again, that you don’t want to die here. I know that you’re scared. I know many of you would rather hide within these walls, fighting against the increasing swarm of Beans outside than consider retreating and tarnishing your honor.”

Some soldiers shouted in agreement. “To that, I say you’re a fool. There are no reinforcements coming to save us. We are not prepared to commit to a prolonged siege. Retreat is the only sensible strategy, no matter how dishonorable you may believe it to be. The decision you make now is the only thing between you and your death. You can choose to refuse to follow me, to hide within these walls and try to survive.”

Bösch paused. “Or, you can choose to follow me. I will not allow any more of my men to die needlessly against these abominations. We can escape Dijon alive. If you are unable to put your faith in our plan, then put your faith in me.”

The soldiers remained silent for a moment, the only sounds being the banging at the gates, the occasional gunshot of the soldiers that remained on the walls, and the periodic footfalls of the huge Bean monster approaching from the west.

Schmidt stood, stunned at Bösch’s speech. In all the time he had known him, nothing that Bösch had to say ever made him feel the way he felt now. Maybe they really could escape Dijon.

Dietrich took a step towards the crowd, turning to face Bösch. “You’re a fool, captain. A fool and a coward.” He turned to face the crowd, who immediately broke out into whispers. “He says he knows you, he says that he cares about you. He says he wants you to survive, yet he is willing to sacrifice you to allow himself to escape. He wants to run and hide, behind more soldiers and bigger walls, while men like you stand on the front lines, doing the real, honorable work, fighting against these monsters.”

“Lieutenant,” Bösch’s voice was dangerously calm.

“You men have wives. You men have children. They are depending on you to fight, to protect them. We are the only thing between them and these monstrosities. If Captain Humbert Bösch is unwilling to fight to protect them, then I will.”

“Lieutenant,” Bösch repeated. “You are leading them to death. You know damn well once we blast open the gate, the town is going to be swarmed.”

Dietrich laughed. “You haven’t changed since Cologne. You pretend like you care, but you’re still the same incompetent bastard you were five years ago.”

Bösch paused for a moment. “You are free to choose your own fate, Markus. I will not stop you.”

“Huh. Maybe you have changed, captain,” Dietrich glared at Bösch before walking towards the western gate. Some soldiers followed him, shouting insults at Bösch as they left. Others walked towards the eastern gate, shouting back at the soldiers insulting Bösch. But most of the soldiers stood in Dijon’s main street, looking between the gathering crowds in the east and west.