All forces of his squad had died, he alone came to hide in the streets of an abandoned city, and when night came, snow started to fall.
Shinn was in an abandoned library, leaning his back on the “Juggernaut” that had countless marks on the armor, the unit dating back to when he was first conscripted a year ago, in a light sleep as he awaited dawn.
For the little body of a twelve year old, the cold of a snowy night was barely tolerable. The library did not collapse, for the thick, heavy walls held their ground. He found a thin blanket in a windowless archive of the library, and draped it over himself. The <Legion>, still wandering around the ruins till a moment back, began their retreat to avoid running out of power and being buried in snow, so he should be able to return to base safely once day arrived. For some reason, however, the “Scavenger” belonging to his old squad, which he called Fido, was always so clingy towards him, and always found him first.
Suddenly, he was beckoned by someone, and opened his eyes.
Ever since he escaped from death, he was able to hear the voices of the dead. Unlike the typical fare, however, he could not hear any voices, instead sensing that he was being beckoned.
It was a call that had vanished a long time back, one he thought he would never hear again.
He was drawn to it, and went outside.
The streets of black metal and dark grey stone was mostly covered in pure white, leaving behind a silhouette. The snow was voiceless, breathless, raining upon his face, fluttering and piling up, dyeing the streets, rubble, and even the black night, as though a white devil was silently rampaging. The beautiful scenery appeared to have whitened the souls.
Passing through the streets of snow and rubble, he came to the center plaza of the town.
And in the middle was a Church, one of its two spires having toppled over, and in the snowy white, it appeared to be a massive skeleton standing in the darkness. He arrived before it.
A wrecked “Juggernaut” had collapsed on the ground, like a fallen skeleton.
The canopy had been blown away, nowhere to be seen, and all that was left was armor that had been deformed due to weather; he could barely see the personal mark of a headless skeletal knight.
He trampled on the snow as he approached it, looking into the cockpit.
How did he know? Even if he was asked, he could not answer, other than say that he knew. Shinn was merely convinced that it was a fact, and there was no need for excuses or reasons to explain why.
The cramped, black cockpit was slowly filled white. He lowered his head, and found the faded bones of his brother that laid inside, with his head gone.