Alongside those who are sinful.

Chapter 7

"Woah...how can I understand you?" Asked the Marine. Dietrich shrugged.

"The same way I can understand her, and possibly him if he speaks." Dietrich pointed to Katya, then to the Japanese Officer.

"Through means unknown to us. There are forces here at play in which we do not understand." Said Dietrich. The Japanese officer stood up, dusting himself off and adjusting his jaw. Dietrich took the time to walk down into the clearing, sticking his hand out to the marine in a gesture of friendship.

"My name is Dietrich Fischer. I am a sniper for the Wehrmacht and I suddenly awoke to find myself in this land a few days ago." Dietrich's introduction had two goals: Introduce himself and cause the marine to put his pistol somewhere else besides his shooting hand. It worked. The marine holstered his sidearm to shake Dietrich's hand.

"Hudson. Corporal Hudson. United States Marine Corps." He said, gruffly. Dietrich studied the man, guessing he was in his late twenties or thirties. His face, strapped with stubble, had a hard and almost leathery appearance.

His pants were of a patchy green tropical camouflaging pattern alongside his helmet. They were faded and worn much like his drab green tunic, but they would still prove to be useful in the forest. His boots, covered at the tops by well worn canvas leggings, showed considerable usage.

He wore a simple pistol belt that he had seen Americans wearing in various photos and footages from other theaters of war. He had a few mag pouches, a canteen, a sheathed machete of considerable size, and his sidearm.

He stood just a bit shorter than Dietrich, though not by much. Only a few inches at most. His eyes and hair were a warm brown color. Speaking of hair, it appeared to be matted down and unkempt with a slight hint of being dehydrated.

"From that flamethrower, no doubt." Surmised Dietrich. He looked over to the weapon, spotting the tanks and applicator nearly leaning against the tree. Resting on the tank was a helmet that Dietrich knew was Hudson's.

"This one has been through a lot in the war. Do not mess with him." Thought Dietrich. He then turned to the Japanese Officer.

"Lieutenant Hiroshi Kurumizawa." Hiroshi stuck his hand out to shake and Dietrich obliged. Hiroshi had a near perfectly spotless uniform, with a lighter, more yellowish hue of khaki than Katya's uniform. It wasn't HBT like Dietrich or Hudson's uniform, and lacked the woolen cloth like Katya's clothing.

It was cotton and pressed so hard that it seemed like it was starched. It looked a little out of place as compared to the rest of them, especially with the tall brown leather riding boots he wore.

On his belt was his katana, a small map pouch, an aggressively long bayonet, and pouches for SMG magazines. The final piece of equipment the man had was his military cap. It was a very dark khaki color and had the iconic neck flaps that he had always seen the Japanese soldiers wear.

"You have reservations about my garments." Said Hiroshi. Dietrich nodded at the officer's soft tone, which was more curious than offended.

"Yes. Before I explain why, this is Katya Oprichnikov. She is a marksman for the Red Army." Dietrich halfway turned and pointed to Katya, who raised a hand in welcome.

"But...yes. Katya and I have had to make extensive use of stealth and camouflage. As it turns out, we are the only people on this planet. There are no other humans. We are surrounded by a manner of creature that has evolved and adapted much like us. They are felines." Said Dietrich. He noticed that Hudson was clipping his flamethrowers' tank to his back and as he finished speaking, looked up with a dejected expression.

"You're off your rocker, kraut." He said, clipping the last buckle and putting his helmet on. Hiroshi glanced sideways at his recent enemy.

"Perhaps he is not. For why is he here? And not only him, but her, you, and I? This land is not Okinawa." Said Hiroshi. Hudson scoffed, walking up to the group with his torch hanging in one hand.