It was time for patrol, yet you were blissfully asleep, unaware of the time. Well, ‘blissfully’ would be false. You were in an uncomfortable sleep, sweat coating your skin, your clothes from last patrol still on. The huge load of Seraphites— or Scars, as the WLF would call them— had left you restless. Begrudgingly, you fell asleep in the mess hall while some of the others chatted about the possibilities of a new attack.

Manny came down for a quick breakfast and to grab you. You and Manny had been assigned with the task of moving a large shipment of weapons to the FOB and you weren’t in your room. He sighed when he spotted you, head on the table in your arms.

“Hey, sleepyhead! Time to go,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. You woke up and spotted him standing beside you, and you cussed under your breath.

“Was it those Scars that made you so exhausted? Those people have it coming,” he said, shaking his head.

You get up, stretching your stiff muscles. Manny quickly goes to get some food from the mess hall line, telling you about the FOB assignment.