AND THE ANZAC LEGENDS DIDN'T MENTION...

[agogemod]

AND THEN SOMEONE YELLED OUT "CONTACT!";

and the bloke behind me swore

THE SILENT WAR

The news of the day of the retreat spreads like wildfire through the Trenches. Leading up to the final date, all soldiers on the ground are instructed to limit their gunfire, to make it look like the usual traditions for warfare, which have determined much of human history up until this point: no one really goes to war in winter. Everyone is to maintain a verbal and physical presence, but the time to confuse the Turks has really become paramount. At times, whole sections are ordered to be perfectly quiet until the last possible second and then spring out before the Turks can get too close.

Which is just how it is supposed to be. In fact, for COST recruits, there's a real sense that this might just go according to plan.

Around this time, the Rear Guard signup starts. COST recruits are met with some surprise by Captain Lewis; he will blink in surprise at a group so new wanting to volunteer so readily, but he's glad and gives everyone who joins a big warm handshake.

Each day gets closer and the mood of the soldiers becomes more jubilant and tenser; the erratic sense of relief that they might be leaving what has become the graveyard of so many friends and, often times, family, combines with the frustration of not being able to do anything but wait. This leads to more than a few fights breaking out, often over nothing important. Just the edge of temporary relief.

Then, before dawn on Jan 7th, the evacuation begins in earnest. It's possible to see it from the top of some sections: a bustling populace until it trickles down to the ghost of the Trenches, where there is nothing left but the rear guard. It's a smooth, efficient evacuation.

The Rear Guard

This is a skeleton army, just enough to make it seem no one has left. Everyone is encouraged to come up with ways to make it seem like there are more men than there actually are.

The local soldiers have come up with a particularly sneaky one - a rope is wrapped around the trigger of a rifle, just loose enough not to pull it, and from the end of it hangs a bucket. Another container slowly drips water into the bucket until it fills and drops, pulling the rope around the trigger and firing the gun. Soldiers are tasked with emptying the water, refilling the cannister, or checking the gun if it looks like it has jammed.

Outside of that, if someone has a sneaky idea to keep up the ruse - even if it's lighting small fires or singing loudly in a chorus to give the notion of people still around - it's all encouraged.

THE THUNDER OF GUNS

Everything is going well. It's not even that worrying when a thick mist comes up, heavy and difficult to see through. But, for those with powers, it prickles oddly on bare skin, followed by a pressure that builds in the back of the mind. It seems to dull any extra powers or senses; magic and its ilk are still usable, but require more concentration to reach now.

In the stillness of the night, however, there is no breeze to move the fog on and it settles like oil through the trench.

It's 1am when the first shell drops. It falls to the east of the recruits' position at Lone Pine. It's a shell that comes down and splits apart the night air in an explosion of shrapnel, dirt and heat. Then a second, then a third, now starting from both sides.

All the soldiers' clamour out of the way and Captain Lewis can be heard shouting over the din: "Into the Tunnels!"

But not everyone can make it. The shells are coming steadily now and one step in the wrong direction is the difference between life and death in such a small space. It's chaos - some soldiers are killed outright. Others get buried under the debris and dirt. Others catch shrapnel that, if not fatal, is enough to throw them and make it hard to get up. But COST's mission is the same as it always is: save as many of these men's lives as possible.

There are four direct entries into the tunnels, all about four or five meters apart, and they're all interconnected within the tunnels themselves.

One by one, however, shells fall and destroy the entrances to the tunnels.

WARTIME ARCHEOLOGY

It takes another three hours for the bombardment to stop and, once the tunnel entrances collapse, it becomes very dark in there. Might be time to fish out a match and strike up a torch.

While Officers previously told soldiers to keep out of the tunnels and otherwise left them ignored, these tunnels are huge. Not like the ones in other sections of the coast; here, they seem to go far into No Man's Land. They're crudely constructed and only some sections are reenforced with heavy beams of wood. But once journeying into them, there are all sorts of things to be found. There are old gas lamps that can be used to light your way or hung on a secure nook or cranny. The stone has been worn smooth in some sections, and other parts have been carved with graffiti of the soldiers who cut them out.

Some locations go down a few steps, while others go up and small holes seem to have been dug through the roof of the tunnels.

It's definitely best to get away from the front of the tunnels, where the bombing is still going on. There are wounded to be seen to and secured from bleeding out, people to find to make sure everyone is still alive. Maybe you want to go farther into the interweaving tunnels to see what else can be recovered. Or maybe you're being stubbornly sensible and looking for a way to dig your way out again, once the bombs stop firing.

Either way, it's a long, exhausting wait in the dark as the ground shakes, showering dust and rocks over everyone.

INTO THE DAWN

The sun has risen when the firing stops - and it's time to search for a way out of here.

Stepping into the light reveals utter destruction. The concentrated bombing has done its work; everything is strewn or buried in dirt and rubble. Machine guns are overturned and parts of the Trench have collapsed; going over the top would be disastrous, given that the Turks have no idea what is happening and will pick off anyone who sticks their head up.

There also isn't...anyone else around. All that's left is this one segment of the rear guard, just 500 men and the COST soldiers. It isn't possible to discern if the other groups have been evacuated or killed at this point.

It's time to consolidate, count their losses, see who is alive and who isn't, and salvage what supplies are left after some digging clean up is done. Work out who needs to stand watch. For now, Captain Lewis' orders are to use the tunnels as a new base of operations.

SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES

They appear first as a shimmer of off-light, no more than a haze against the resettling mist. A faint shape against the grey - the long lines of a dog's face, almost Jackal-like, in a clean black uniform that gives more to the appearance of shadows - moves closer, but not too close. They could almost be a trick of the light, out of the corner of your eye. Almost intangible.

They're not moving closer, however, choosing to hang back in the rubble of the Trenches. The ANZAC soldiers don't seem to notice them at all.

Ten minutes after they're first spotted, Commander Grothia issues a priority message:

Contact. Regency soldiers. Do not engage.

If a shot does get fired that way, whether it's from Turkish or ANZAC soldiers unknowingly or from COST operatives: it's quick but, as the bullet seems to come into contact with them, the air around them shimmers blue, like it's hitting a field of light. This effect seems to be stronger when they're standing close together and, as of now, they remain unhurt.

Moving closer to them increases that feeling of mind fog on powered characters; for the unmagical, a sense of unease prickles up. It's a feeling not unlike the beginnings of the time-step, the hum of sensation that marks a transfer through time. Veteran recruits will easily recognize the buzz that dances through their bones before it stills as they move away; rookies might recall it from their initial arrival from BASE.

READ THE OOC INFOPAGE.

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Comments

[ryuji]

The app did. We didn't name it, it just said... Welcome to the Metaverse. Don't make fun of the name or I'll boot your ass, so we haven't questioned it since.

[Eren's a pretty funny person- Ryuji experienced this before, but now it's almost all the more apparent by the way he carries himself here. In a space where no one can see you or care what you look like, where the ego is stripped from the body and turned into demons for sparring fodder, Eren clings to the odd spectacle of pretending to show Ryuji something.

And he smiles back at the other.]

You don't gotta worry about me. I don't look it, but I'm tough as nails. Even if something's gonna knock me down and fuck me up, I know I'm gonna get back up and keep fighting. [He raises an eyebrow at Eren, putting on a show of his own-]

Dude, be careful with your gesturing. This world's made outta thoughts. Anything you think about can materialize here. [He crosses his arms.] Try thinkin' about a cake, for example. Close your eyes 'n imagine it.

[trample]

[ How...admirable. For what it's worth, Ryuji is making all the right points to win Eren over. It's really rather charming. Something about the skinny blond boy just seems to do it. Back at home, and here in...The Metaverse. This was not what he expected to be doing at this hour.

He wonders for a moment if he should take offense to the casual manner Ryuji's taking but decides against it. Even if it is a bit of a joke to make something like this in the wake of a battlefield...well, what were they missing, really? It's not so much a mockery as it is a substitution, and that was in Ryuji's own special way. Might as well let his consideration extend that far. ]

A cake. Right. [ He pinches the bridge of his nose before shaking his head and going back to crossing his arms. ] Sorry, can't say I've got any image of that. Never had one. Why don't you try it?

[ryuji]

[Ryuji isn't the type to take the leadership of a group; his role has always been that of the support, the backbone to lean on and provide relief to those that have to carry the heavy burdens of making life or death decisions. He's been lucky, up until joining COST, that those decisions have been favorable to him, but there were times when his cocky actions had almost landed real consequences in this world.

Stealing someone's heart was one step away from making them turn crazy, suicidal, dangerous to the society in which they functioned. So even here, even in the middle of this chaotic shithole of a mission, Ryuji finds a way to take Eren out of reality for a few moments and get his mind off the goddamn Regency and doing something even he's not that inclined to do. He watches as he brings his hand to his face, a small smile splaying up beneath the mask so plainly affixed against his own features. Ryuji thinks that he's trying to summon a cake, and just when the reality hits that it doesn't seem to be working, he sighs.]

This is the cognitive world, Mona used to call it. It's the dumpster for all of humanity's desires and uh... perceptions. For example, if everyone thought cats could turn into buses in the real world, then a cat here could go 'n be a bus. You follow?

[Probably not. It took Ryuji ages to understand this stuff despite being in it night after night after night.

And it's a small parlor trick that the blond plays on Eren, but he holds his hand up to his chin, holding it there as if he's deep in thought. He's not. Summoning his persona is easy; like riding a bike. But shortly, his eyes glow bright blue through the skull mask as a huge cloud forms right above Eren's head. It occludes enough so that he can't see the monkey standing on top of it with a scepter and king's garb.

A small bolt of lightning hits the ground near him. Just as he's about to look up, if he does at all, Ryuji puts away Seiten-Taisei.]

Dude... your negative vibes are giving you storm clouds.

[trample]

[ ...Anyone could follow this if they knew the meaning of the words. Ryuji, you're just bad at learning because you stay up all night. Hate to break it to you.

Player commentary aside, Eren's initial reaction to hearing such grand phrasing on Ryuji's part is to look shocked - as shocked as he can be, at least. So many people had shit to say about mankind, humanity at large, that it was considerably unnerving to him - its greatest enemy. ]

Supposing you aren't just using words for the hell of it, [ He frowns sternly. ] And that that is, indeed, the truth, why haven't I dropped dead already?

[ A breath of air released from the depths of his chest quickly hides his concern. Sighing usually does that. What sighing doesn't usually do is control the weather, and with what Ryuji's been saying, Eren has little doubt in his mind that he would be right - if, you see, that imagery had been something Eren even knew about.

So, Eren presses X to doubt. It's just natural. ]

Is this a joke? [ Eren's gone stiff. He's standing in a strong position, fists curled at his sides, but stiff all the same. And though his voice is composed as ever, he's obviously not very pleased. ] Lightning's not something you mess around with.

[ryuji]

[He's bad at learning because he can't concentrate on boring shit. Just so happened, Mona was always boring as shit, so it was hard to get the layers of the Metaverse down on the first try. Didn't help that the little guy kept making fun of him for being dumb, telling him he was worthless every step along the way.

When Freddy Kruger starts to see behind the rouse that Ryuji's set up for him, he immediately feels bad that he's sparked (heh) a rather animated response back from him. To date, it's the most Eren's given him in terms of an emotional reply, and his features grow softer as he's chided. Eh, it was meant to be a distraction for a few moments, but as it starts to fail, he looks at the other, then at the ground, scratching the back of his head.]

Listen, what I can do in here ain't a joke. What anyone can do in here isn't. If you're pushed beyond your limits, you can die in here. But if you learn to come to terms with yourself and realize that the person you are to other people is just a facade to cover up your true nature, you can harness that power and be stronger than anything else. [Yeah, that's about right. Still sounds fake though.

Ryuji goes to talk more, but as the world begins to sense the stirring of emotions and Eren's nonplussed countenance, a dark abrasion in the world starts to form behind his friend. His eyes go wide---]

MOVE!

[trample]

[ That's a good point, actually. His advice is very shonen-like, very on the nose, very right in all the right ways - and Eren quickly disregards it, thinking it to be nothing more than that. After all, who could take that literally? Seriously. "Sounds fake" is right.

When Ryuji says "move," Eren knows what he means better than the boy himself does. And so, understanding he was about to be attacked, he instead took the first shot.

By the time the vocals kick in, Eren's already emptied ten shots from his Lee Enfield into the thing. Rather than reload and waste time, he takes his sidearm and dumps another six shots into it before going at it with a bayonet. Long before there's even any time to acknowledge what the hell it is, it's already fading into nothing.

Eren, in the meanwhile, simply picks up his rifle and returns to Ryuji, reloading on his way there. Once his ears stop ringing, he smacks the bolt into place with a sense of finality to chamber a round, then turns his eye up at the one who knows his shit about this place. ]

So you were right. Do you know how many more of those we'll have to deal with before we can get out of here? Or does it just come with the territory for as long as we stick around?

[ryuji]

[Honestly, that's a little bit much, isn't it? Ryuji's eyebrow just quirks upward at the display of rapid fire, followed up with additional shots that were already way over the allotted health the thing had; he didn't need a Futaba scan to know that. Noted, he's great at marksmanship.]

Sh...it...

[Not that he was wrong in going on the offensive, it was absolutely about to attack the both of them. Either way, he appreciates his friend saving him the cost of additional SP today, and snaps to with a shake of his head.]

Shadows, we call 'em. They're attracted to emotion when they're out here in the wild without a palace. Otherwise they're kinda like slaves to whoever owns them. [Raises his hands and places them behind his head, taking a few steps toward the tunnels.]

I can take us out any time you wanna go. But I was thinkin' maybe we could see what it's like down there in this world. You in?

[trample]

[ Overkill wasn't a word in Eren's dictionary. Or maybe it was the only word. What definitely wasn't a word in his dictionary was emotion, so when that comes up it certainly piques his interest. "Slaves," as well. both interesting choices of words. And when you coupled that with such grand talk about mankind and its will, well - he couldn't help looking somewhat more into this whole shebang than before.

Good going, Ryuji. You've ignited his curiosity. ]

...Fine. But only until I'm out of ammo.

[ He slings his rifle over his shoulder, looking like he's bored - despite agreeing to all this. It's just the way he is. Please understand. ]

Shadows, you said? Is that just something you came up with, or something more than that?