November 9th, 1587 - Besançon, Kingdom of France The more I look back at my life, the more I realize that I have a habit of seeing the worst in things. I can only wish that is what I am doing with the Beans now; if I am merely being pessimistic, perhaps there is real hope of humanity’s survival. Despite everything, I am still holding out hope. I wonder why that is?

Barry,

I do not know why I am writing this. I do not even know if you are still alive. The news of the Bean monsters just reached us. Joseph says we should leave Rohrdorf. I keep telling him that we are going to be alright here, so far away from everything, but he is not listening to me. He wants us to move in with his brother in Stuttgart. I do not see how moving closer to the danger will help us. He says it is because Stuttgart stations the army, but I do not know if that is going to help us any if the monsters attack again.

All of this is so surreal. I would have assumed that this was some sick joke the soldiers were playing on us, but from everything we have heard, it seems to be real. I do not know what to do, Barry. Please reply when you get this. I need to know that you are still alive.

I do not know what I would do if I lost you, too.

Sofia.

Schmidt didn’t see Jakob die.

Sauer tried to tell him what had happened, but he didn’t want to know. If he had chosen to grab Jakob, he would still be alive. Instead, he had chosen to save Bösch.

Jakob had so much more to live for than he did. Jakob had a wife, he had a daughter. What did Bösch have? What did Schmidt have?

The survivors of Dijon had arrived in Besançon late in the night. After hours of anxiously walking through the quiet French countryside, unsure if there would be more Beans over every hill, they were relieved to finally see the dark outline of the city appear in the distance.

As they got closer, they realized the city was deserted. The gate to the city was left open with no signs of a struggle. They wandered the empty streets, keeping watch for any signs of life, when Schmidt noticed a faint light at the top of a church’s bell tower on the northwestern edge of the city.

They entered the church and found a small group of sleeping soldiers. Only one man was awake as they entered. “Who zee ‘ell are you?” the soldier asked with a French accent, readying his musket defensively.

Bösch took a step forward, holding his hands calmly in front of him. “I am Captain Humbert Bösch. I was assigned to protect the town of Dijon, about 60 kilometers west of here. There was a… situation. I am sure you are here because of that, though, by your lack of preparedness, I assume you do not fully understand the severity of the situation.” Bösch glanced around at the sleeping soldiers, who had begun to stir from the commotion. “Who’s in charge here?”

The man that had greeted them stood to attention. “I am, captain. Lieutenant Raphael Kaplan of zee Army of zee Empire, reporting.”

“At rest, lieutenant. Do you know why you and your men are stationed here?”

Kaplan’s soldiers eyed the survivors that had gathered just inside the entrance of the church. The only light was a candle next to Kaplan, the small flame casting dancing shadows over his face as his posture relaxed slightly. “No, captain... I was told to look out for survivors evacuating east, zough I know not why. My men ‘ave been taking shifts in zee bell tower watching for survivors... I assume zee current watch is asleep due to zee lack of notice of your arrival.”

“Wake everyone up. Now. There’s something we must discuss.”

Kaplan ordered one of his soldiers to wake the man in the bell tower, while Bösch asked for the rest to prepare a sleeping area for the survivors. By the time Kaplan’s men returned from the bell tower, most of the survivors had moved to the front of the nave to rest, leaving Bösch, Schmidt, Sauer, Reist, and Rob, despite his injured shoulder, with Kaplan’s soldiers.

Nervously, Kaplan said “Zis is everyone, captain.” Despite the exhaustion of the survivors and the seriousness of Bösch’s tone, Kaplan’s soldiers didn’t seem too concerned with what Bösch was going to say. They whispered and laughed with each other behind Kaplan’s back, who did little to stop them as he eyed Bösch.

“I’ve been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, so I’m going to keep this simple,” Bösch began. “Monsters attacked the town I was protecting and killed nearly one hundred of my men and countless civilians.”

Bösch stopped talking. Kaplan’s men looked at each other slowly, as though they were expecting Bösch to tell them that what he said was a joke. He didn’t. Two of the soldiers tried and failed to hide their quiet laughter, which only made them laugh harder. Bösch stared at them silently, his eyes cast in shadow. A few moments of silence passed before Kaplan asked, “What do you mean, monsters?”

Sauer replied. “We call them Beans. Their bodies look human, though they seem to have a protective coating that is able to manipulate itself at will, which they used to massacre our soldiers. There was an… abnormal Bean creature that arrived much later than the others that was substantially larger, as well.”

One of Kaplan’s soldiers laughed, not even attempting to hide it this time, the sound echoing eerily off the stone walls of the church. “Ya serious? Beans, that’s the name ya chose?” The soldier glanced at each of the survivors, and when their faces remained serious, his laugh slowly died, though a slight smirk remained.

Rob mumbled to Sauer “I told you Beans was a stupid name.”

“It felt like a good name at the time, but I do regret choosing to call them that,” Sauer replied under his breath.

Kaplan’s soldier continued. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. This is very serious after all. Even though what ya just described sounds like a made up fairytale for little babies. What next, a dragon going to swoop down from the sky and eat me up?” He began to laugh again.

“No, a dragon isn’t going to fly down from the sky and eat any of us. But the Beans aren’t a fairytale.” Bösch pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Believe what you will. The last soldiers that held the same sentiment as you were ripped into pieces and scattered throughout Dijon. Not to mention the dozens of other towns that were most likely also attacked today.”

The flame danced wildly on the shrinking candle.

Kaplan broke the silence. “You should know zat every town and city from ‘ere to zee French border ‘as been ordered to evacuate east. Zere are many camps like zis set up north and south from ‘ere, keeping watch for survivors from zee west as well. I know zey at least go as far as Verdun and Voiron. Zey didn’t tell us why we were sent out, or what zee survivors from zee west had survived... I ‘onestly didn’t know what to zink, so we just set up ‘ere and waited... If zese monsters are as powerful as you say zey are, zis could be… very bad, oui?”

Bösch nodded.

“What should we do, zen?”

“I’d suggest your watchmen don't fall asleep.”

Bösch stared at Kaplan, who stood awkwardly, staring back. After a moment, he realized Bösch was done speaking, and ordered four of his soldiers to go to the watchtower. It was obvious that most of them didn’t believe Bösch, but his exhausted, commanding stare was enough to make them do as they were told.