Girls Frontline- The Labcoat

The Line Must Hold

"Let go of me, you crazy bastard," he squeezed out.

Roland was in a sorry state, as he had been in many times. But this time, he wouldn't make it out.

Something held him by the neck. It felt like a clothespin of death, choking him and wrapping all the way around his neck.

The Marine Fruitlessly pounded at the vice, seeing no success. His other arm was out of action, broken in three places and hanging limp by his side.

He couldn't tell because his left eye was swollen shut, and the other was flooded with blood spouting from a gash in his forehead.

"As you wish."

Suddenly, it was all gone. The grip disappeared as quickly as a flash of light. But there was no ground underneath him.

With the strength he had left, he pieced it all together.

25 knots, and increasing, rocketing towards the ground that was an uncertain distance away.

Luck had saved him before. As it would turn out, this time Lady luck wasn't interested.

Maybe it was worth it. He didn't know.

With his last seconds of time before he turned into red paste on the pavement below, he used his one last arm to dig into his vest.

He found metal objects, gripping them as tight as he could.

His tags.

And Theirs.

He saved them, but at what cost?

The memories.

Were they worth throwing himself away for?

Could he die with forgiveness?

Or would he forever be marked by his sins?

Oh god.

The memories.

A Tear dropped from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed out to no one in particular, but the wind from his descent washed it all away.

It all started when Sangvis Ferri stormed the city, where he and his older sister Persica were evacuated from the smoldering remains of their home. The buildings were hollowed out, most of them barely standing on chunks of rubble.

A once glorious city, brimming with parks and skyscrapers, now looked like the product of a carpet-bombing raid.

Barely anything was left.

Not even their parents remained.

Persica was barely a teenager and Roland was but a child.

Soon, their evac brought them, and several more refugees to a camp.

Soldiers stood at the gates, covered in dust and dirt, some bandaged and others bleeding from minor wounds.

A military ambulance blazed past, splashing mud from a nearby puddle in their general direction.

The truck passed through the gates, but over the engine noise, Roland could hear the cries of dying men.

He heard one profess his last confessions, to a compatriot trying to keep him alive despite unknown wounds. This was Roland's first experience with war. Many more were soon to follow.

That night, when the siblings were tucked in bed, the Sangvis androids found their camp and exterminated everyone.

Both woke up to a raid siren and were told by a soldier to run. Run for the woods, he said. We have it handled, he said.