The Infranx Line, Aznoble, Prisia
Even at night, the sounds of artillery were constant through the rain.
Naomi hated it. The trenches, the mud, the smell of gunpowder and oil. The smoke made her porcelain skin crawl and every time she dodged a shell or some explosive, she felt the urge to check her night-blue hair for burns.
Being the Ascendant of Water didn't make her any less flammable, and Austrany's increasing use of flamethrower frames was getting annoying. She might have to wear a helmet.
Her bunker had some rather opulent conditions, with a plush bed and a proper toilet and electricity. But it was still a bunker. Still less than ten kilometers from the stench of war.
Fortunately for her, she would be out of this place soon, back to her flat in the capital. Maybe even on a plane to Usona for "treatment."
