SICARII

Amidst the chaos, Officer Carran's sharp eyes scanned the battlefield, taking in the grim situation. The relentless waves of Winko soldiers were overwhelming Unit 8, their numbers too great, their assault too fierce. Kirkian soldiers were falling one by one, some disappearing in fiery explosions, others crumpling under the hail of bullets.

"Fall back! To the ditch over there!" Carran shouted, pointing to a shallow trench partially hidden behind the charred remains of a transport vehicle. His voice carried above the cacophony of war, and the remaining soldiers scrambled to follow his command.

Taizen and Mionara, bloodied but resolute, fought their way toward the retreat point, covering the backs of their comrades as best they could. Carran unleashed a barrage of pistol fire to hold off the advancing Winko forces, his aim precise and unyielding.

The survivors threw themselves into the ditch, breathing heavily as they huddled behind its fragile cover. The air was thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Out of the original thirty members of Unit 8, only seventeen remained. The reality of their losses hung heavy in the air.

Carran crouched at the edge of the ditch, grabbing his comm unit. "Unit 7, come in! Do you read me?" he barked, his voice tinged with urgency. Silence greeted him, the static from the device crackling ominously.

He tried again. "Unit 7, respond! This is Carran from Unit 8—what's your status?"

Still no answer. The grim realization settled over him like a shroud. He clenched his jaw, lowering the comm. "Unit 7 is gone. Looks like they've been wiped out."

The soldiers around him exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale and drawn. They had only made it halfway to the Winko base, and the losses were already catastrophic.

Carran stood up, his pistols holstered as he turned to face the remnants of Unit 8. His piercing eyes swept over them, and despite the weariness in his features, his presence was commanding, almost larger than life.

"All right, listen up!" Carran's voice cut through the tension, sharp and resolute. "I know what you're thinking. I know you're scared. Hell, we've lost half our unit already, and Unit 7 is gone. But we don't have the luxury to stop. We're not here to survive—we're here to win. And that means we keep going."

He paced along the ditch, his voice rising with every word.

"The Winko base is ahead of us, and we are the only ones who can finish this mission. If we falter now, everything falls apart. The entire Kirkian military is counting on us to do our part. They're trusting us to break through, to assassinate that bastard general, and to turn the tide of this war."

Carran stopped, his hands clenched into fists as he locked eyes with each of his soldiers. "You've all trained for this. You've all fought for this. I've seen each of you in battle, and I know what you're capable of. You're not just soldiers—you're warriors. You've been forged in the fires of combat, and I know you have the strength to see this through."

He gestured toward the battlefield, where the sounds of gunfire and explosions raged on. "This isn't just about Kirkia. This is about history. If we take that base, if we succeed here, we'll save countless lives. Our families, our homes—everything depends on what we do now."

Carran's voice softened, but the intensity in his eyes burned brighter. "I'm not asking you to be fearless. I'm asking you to fight despite the fear. Because that's what real courage is. And I know every single one of you has it."

The soldiers straightened, their faces hardening with renewed determination. Even Taizen and Mionara, who weren't Kirkian by blood, felt the fire igniting within them. The weight of Carran's words struck deep, bolstering their resolve.

Carran gave a curt nod. "We've got one shot at this. Stay sharp, stay together, and let's make sure that when we tell this story, we tell it as victors."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the unit, growing louder until it became a rallying cry. Despite the losses, despite the odds, Unit 8 was ready to push forward.

The tension in the ditch was unbearable. The sounds of war still raged beyond their small haven—explosions, gunfire, the screams of the fallen. Carran's eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for the next objective. The Winko base loomed just ahead, but they had one final stretch to cross, a narrow expanse of open ground before reaching another ditch that would lead them into the passages of the base itself.

"We make a run for it," Carran said, his voice low but firm. "That ditch up ahead is our only cover. We can't waste any more time."

Mionara and Taizen nodded, preparing themselves for the final push. But before they could make a move, one of the surviving members of Unit 8—an older, grizzled soldier with a deep scar running down his cheek—stepped forward. His rifle was heavy, his hands steady as he adjusted the strap of a mounted heavy machine gun, clearly built for holding the line.

"I'll stay here," he said, voice rough, his eyes hardened with resolve. "I'll cover you. You all go ahead."

Carran's gaze flicked to the soldier, a grim understanding in his eyes. There was no mistaking it—he knew this soldier wasn't coming back. But Carran couldn't afford to waste words. They had a mission to complete.

"Understood," Carran replied curtly. "Cover our backs. Stay sharp."

The soldier gave a tight nod, his fingers curling around the trigger. There was no hesitation in his stance, no fear in his eyes. It was a sacrifice, plain and simple. And it was one he was willing to make.

"Go! Move out!" Carran barked, motioning for the rest of the unit to follow.

Without another word, the group broke from cover, sprinting toward the ditch ahead. Taizen's katana flashed in the dim light, slashing through Winko soldiers who tried to block his path. Mionara was close behind, his twin short katanas cutting through flesh with fluid precision. Blood splattered the ground as soldiers fell around them.

Carran's pistols roared in tandem, each shot taking down an enemy as he sprinted, his eyes darting around, constantly scanning for threats. But the Winko forces were relentless, and as the unit made their way across the no-man's-land, the casualties began to mount.

A soldier to the left of Mionara screamed as a bullet tore through his shoulder, spinning him off balance. Before he could react, a second shot pierced his chest, and he crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around him.

"Keep moving!" Carran shouted, but the urgency in his voice didn't mask the growing fear as more and more of his unit fell.

Another soldier—a young man who had just joined the unit a few weeks ago—was hit by a barrage of fire from a nearby machine gun nest. He didn't even have time to react as the bullets shredded him, his body torn apart before it hit the ground.

One by one, Unit 8 was picked off. A soldier's leg exploded in a fiery burst as an enemy grenade landed too close, sending him tumbling into the air. Another soldier was struck by a sniper's bullet, his body jerking unnaturally before he fell limp to the earth.

Taizen gritted his teeth, eyes locked on the ditch ahead, but even he could feel the weight of every life lost behind him. His every step was a battle against the gnawing fear rising in his chest. But there was no turning back now.

Mionara, breath ragged, kept pace with Taizen, his arms a blur as he fought his way through the enemy. His short katanas cut down a soldier, and before the next one could even aim, he was on them, his blades slashing through the air.

But just as they neared the ditch, a mortar shell exploded nearby, sending a shockwave through the ground. The blast threw one of the remaining soldiers high into the air, his body twisting grotesquely before he landed in a mangled heap.

"Get to the ditch!" Carran shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the deafening noise around them.

They pushed forward, ignoring the pain in their legs and the exhaustion pulling at their bodies. The ditch was so close now—only a few more feet, but the air seemed thick with death, and every step felt heavier.

Then, the final push.

Carran was the first to reach the ditch, diving into the shallow trench and pulling himself to cover. Taizen and Mionara followed right behind, landing hard in the dirt, their bodies aching from the mad dash.

Behind them, the remainder of Unit 8 scrambled to join them—seven soldiers, bloodied and breathless, with only half of the original force still standing. As they huddled together, the last remnants of their strength barely holding them up, the silence that fell over them was deafening.

They had made it. But at what cost?

The battlefield still raged on, and the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed in the distance. But in that moment, all they could hear was the heavy breathing of their comrades, the harsh reality of the war settling in. The final push had been made—but they had lost so much to get there.