Hiya, so I decided to start my new story after all. This one will be the serious one of the two that I was planning (and talked about at the end of Gizensha Gakuen if you were paying attention derp) I do hope to finish everything I write, but I hope this one won't suffer the same fate as GG and wait a year and a half after the penultimate chapter to realize the final chapter. *shotdead* (though I hope you read Gizensha if you have time, I'm a tiny bit proud I even managed to finish it)

I've been wanting to write a Setsuna centric story for a long time. Gizensha had initially started out as that but eventually escalated into a full blown KonoSetsu story. The actual idea for this story didn't come to me until today actually (as I start writing this), while sitting with nothing to do on a road trip.

Mind you this is very AU. The rating is also TENTATIVELY T, due to the fact that I'm not sure how violent this story is going to get. It MAY go into M, but for now, I guess this is fine. Also I have no idea why I like to have stories with alliterated titles.

Before I blather on forever I should get going with this story, yeah…

Ch. 1

She breathed hard as she ran for cover, not stopping to check behind her to see if her companions were still tailing her. Reloading her gun, she peered around the corner of the ruined building. Explosions rocked the ground, but she ignored it. Picking out a seemingly safe pathway she made a break for it. Bullets began to pepper the ground around her as she ran. Rolling behind the safety of an overturned tanker, she grunted when a lucky shot grazed her leg. From her new vantage point, she looked around and spotted the machine gunner situated in the window of another building. Looking back at where she had run from, she spotted her partner, a tall dark skinned woman. She signalled the woman, and turned her attention back to the gunner. Taking a deep breath, she ran out from behind the tanker, dodging the spray of bullets that came at her. She suppressed a grim smile as she saw any bullets that she failed to dodge properly get shot out of the air courtesy of her partner. Foot soldiers ran at her only to be shot down by her hand. Reaching her destination, she dived behind another building for protection.

She took a reflective glass from one of the many pockets of her uniform, using it to peek at the gunner around the corner. The gunner had his sights trained right at her, waiting for her to come out. She set the glass on the ground, making sure she could still see the gunner, and then holstered her gun. She swung her rifle, which was strapped to her back, around and loaded it. Carefully, she wriggled on her stomach near the edge of the building. She held her breath and barrel rolled into the open, steadied herself, then squeezed the trigger. The wall behind her was momentarily showered with shots before her bullet lodged itself in the head of the gunner.

There was a scramble as soldiers ran up to replace the fallen shooter, but she was too quick for them, drawing her handgun again and taking out many of them as they tried to get to the mounted gun. She let herself relax a tiny bit when her squad came up behind her, backing her up. One of her squad got a little overexcited and ran up a bit too far forwards, not noticing a few soldiers to the side. She grabbed the greenhorn by the scruff of the jacket, and yanked them backwards, just in time to avoid several shots. Without skipping a beat, she turned her sights on the oncoming soldiers, taking them out with ease.

Finally, the enemies seemed to dwindle in number and eventually disappeared. Taking a sweep over the area, she signalled one of her squad to radio in that the area had been successfully secured.

When she sat down by one of the fires, conversation stopped and the ones sitting around it all made excuses to get up and go elsewhere. She sighed and ate her rationed out food in silence. She tugged at her sleeves, starting idly at the tattooed numbers on her inner-forearm.

73887

The number was essentially her name. She had no real identity, only existing to serve this little rebelling army.

"Scaring away everyone as per usual, Captain?" A deep mellow voice asked.

Captain, as she was called by everyone as opposed to just a string of numbers, didn't look up. "I can't help that everyone apparently is afraid I'm going to tear their heads off, Lock. Besides, you scare them just as much as I do."

Lock shrugged nonchalantly and sat down beside her. "Well we can't help the fact that we're actually capable of doing so."

Lock was the one who had backed her up earlier when approaching the gunner. She was tall, dark skinned and deadly with her aim. Her name wasn't actually Lock. Lock was short for 'Lock-on" which she had been dubbed when people found out about her deadly aim. Her real name didn't exist either. Instead, like Captain, she was identified by the numbers tattooed on her forearm. 62628.

There were two others like them, with numbers as name. Not everyone in her squad was like that, only the four of them were. They were special, apparently. Captain scoffed inwardly. Special meant freaks. Experiments. Her squad held a level of fearful respect for her. They listened to her every order, never questioned, never complained. They never spoke to her more than necessary, and avoided her whenever possible. It was understandable, if she was in their shoes, she probably would've done the same. She was far stronger, faster and more skilled than most other people. There was a reason she was to be feared.

Captain wasn't quite sure how the other three ended up in the situation, but her own experiences weren't pretty. She dusted her uniform off, and loosened the elastic that held her snow white hair back in a ponytail. Relaxing, she leaned back and gazed at the night sky.

"What'cha thinking about?" Lock asked.

"Hmmm, nothing really." She replied. "I'm just a bit tired."

"Did you see someone about the hit you took earlier?" A new voice chimed. Captain glanced across the fire to see that two others had joined them. One of them had approached without a sound as usual. She was tall, and well endowed. Her hair swept back in a low ponytail. 53236, or Sneak, as she had been named appropriately for her skills.

The other was a shorter smaller girl, her blonde hair pulled back into dual pigtails. Despite her appearance, she was nicknamed Tank for her tendencies to take down whole squadrons with her bare hands. Her number was 58334.

"It was just a nick." Captain replied, shrugging, "nothing I couldn't deal with."

"Of course, as expected of our esteemed Captain." Tank teased, her words layered with a light accent.

Captain scoffed, "Esteemed, that's quite funny. Last I checked, everyone around me was looking at me in distain."

"Not everyone." Sneak mused, and pointed behind Captain. "That one there has been standing around for quite awhile now."

"I know." She replied, not bothering to turn around, "I'm just waiting for her to stop following me around and just get on with whatever she wants to say."

There was a quiet shuffle behind her as the mysterious person scuttled into view. It was the overeager greenhorn that Captain had saved earlier on. She was but a young bespectacled girl, with blonde hair framing her face. Captain's heart fell, this girl wasn't likely to last very long. She was probably only recently assigned to her squad.

It wasn't uncommon to see children in battle. In fact, Captain herself couldn't be no more than sixteen. Her exact age, she didn't even know herself. The rebel faction consisted of every impoverished individual, anyone who could hold a gun was given one to use. They were desperate for anyone they could use to fight. They even enlisted the help of powerful demons. The enemy was the governing power that ruled over the continent, and their armies. For years, the king had been stripping the land and the people bare, draining every trace of wealth that there was to offer. The battles had started years ago, and hadn't stopped since then.

Captain had never seen inside of a large inhabited city, but she had heard stories that the people there lived in happiness. In a utopia which the rich could only afford. Blissfully unaware of the bloodshed that happened in the outskirts of the land.

The greenhorn smiled sheepishly at Captain before she spoke. "I just wanted to say thank you for earlier."

"It's nothing. Just don't go charging in guns a blazing without thinking about things first. This isn't a game. One well aimed shot, and you're a goner. No second tries."

"I know. I'm sorry sempai." The girl looked down at her feet in shame.

"Just don't do it again and be more careful next time."

The girl nodded profusely, eager to please.

"Now run along, you have duties to do don't you? Er…."

"Tsukuyomi." The girl said. "My name's Tsukuyomi."

"Alright then, Tsukuyomi, run along now."

The girl saluted and ran away, practically skipping.

"Well, would you look at that. Scary old captain is losing her touch." Lock teased playfully as she watched the girl leave.

"Shut up Lock, no one asked you."

Lock ignored her and stood up. "I've got the watch in a few minutes, so I'm going to go. You should get some sleep, you worked hard today."

"Mm, well… I'll try."

Her dream was filled with death. Bodies littered the ground, red being the most predominant of colours. The stench of rot filled the air, and she tried not to choke on it. People were crying for the dead. People were crying for themselves as they realized they could no longer be saved. The smell of burnt flesh filled her nose, as several fires burned. Those that hadn't been in battle huddled around the fires, warming themselves from the ashes of the dead. They were all scrawny, starved of all nutrients. Many of them sickly.

Captain woke up sweating, and rolled over in her makeshift bed that consisted mainly of her backpack as a pillow. She took a swig from her water jug, and lay down again, trying to will herself back to sleep. The images still fresh in her mind. It was a common sight she had seen in her many battles, but it haunted her never the less.

The death, the illnesses, the poverty. It was all terrible. She had the blood of thousands on her own hands as well. She felt herself get sick to the stomach. She forced herself to conjure up the images from her dreams again. It was all for this.

This is what she was fighting for.

Not particularly happy with this chapter, but I'm not hating it so far, which is a good sign, I guess. Sorry it's short. My first chapters tend to be.

Also, for anyone who is wondering… Yes Konoka will probably be making an appearance. Setsuna's character and personality is heavily influenced by her, so it would be difficult not to include her. However, I am not sure how strongly I will delve into their relationship, as I don't want the story reliant on it.

Oh for anyone wondering there are no OCs so far, so I hope you can figure out who's who. Haha…