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The sound of pen scratching across paper filled the air inside the tenth division's captain's office. Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya sat at his desk and plowed through the mountain of paperwork that came with being captain of the tenth. In front of his desk, sitting on the couch, his lieutenant was working on her own stack, albeit slowly. Hitsugaya was thankful that after the war she had sobered somewhat and now did about twenty percent of her work. Another hundred years of so and he would get her to do all of her work if he was lucky. As he looked over another field report, this one from Berlin, he was relived to see that the hollow count was fi

Sand Island was finally settling down after a vary hectic day.  The Yuktobanians who made it to shore were stopped at the beach and when they learned of there fleet's destruction they quickly surrendered.  The navy was searching the waters for survivors and salvage operation was already underway.  However the only thing on Captain John Smith's mind was the sixteen pilots he had led out that morning and left in the sea. The following day Captain Smith was still working on his official report for Colonel Perrault when there was a knock at the door of small office.  Setting aside his papers "Enter" was all he said. The door opened

What brought the bullet to the man. Our world is set in motion. Railways bring the men to battle. Land is more than life itself. Dawn saw flashes on the horizon. Why was the night broken? Artillery rains a hell on me. Real is the hell I found.