ON THE DAY SHE ENLISTED IN THE BLOODY HUNDREDTH BOMB GROUP, among the cacophony of possibilities that raced through her mind, never once did the y/h/c Major envision spending an entire month sequestered on the farm, far removed from the blistering intensity of aerial combat. It was a departure from the expected, a divergence from the relentless adrenaline of the skies. The contrast was stark; instead of the deafening roar of engines and the whistling wind at high altitudes, she found herself enveloped in the serene tranquility of the countryside of Thorpe Abbotts, just spending her days relaxing with the ground crews and medics.
The decision was like a seismic shift in her reality, a jolting pivot from the front lines to the pastoral retreat. The base, with its sprawling fields and rustic charm, offered a sanctuary far removed from the harsh demands of war. Yet, beneath the facade of idyllic peace, there simmered an undercurrent of tension — a silent informer of the chaos awaiting her return. For y/n, accustomed to the persistent rhythm of combat, the respite felt almost unnerving. Each passing day brought a palpable sense of anticipation, mingled with a tinge of apprehension. Though it was to help her feel better, according to Doctor Stover, it only made things worse.
The adrenaline that once surged through her veins now lay dormant, replaced by an unfamiliar stillness. And yet, beneath the calm exterior, a fierce determination burned bright — a resolve to reclaim the skies and continue the fight with renewed fervor. 'If only there was a way to convince Red!' She grumbled to herself, afraid of losing her edge if she ever let herself truly relax. As the days stretched into weeks, the girl found herself grappling with an unexpected paradox: the yearning for the tranquility of the farm, juxtaposed with the unyielding call of duty. It was a battle waged within, a conflict between the solace of retreat and the continual pursuit of victory.
