I had to make the 7th chapter an important even for the character seven

Colloquium:

The 8th officer of the 7th company surveyed the wreckage before him, the remnants of what once stood as a formidable stronghold's defenders; only four remained now. According to the accounts of the disastrous events laid out before him, this information is somehow apparently correct, according to drones sent out there. He questioned the accuracy of their claims about neutralizing high-priority targets, with scepticism etched across his mind. Ludicrous, but somewhat believable.

"Seven, tell me that one more time." The platoon commander's gaze bore into the seven, sharp as a bayonet.

"Umm, well… Harry left the stronghold for a drink, and before he came back, the bloody wall was falling down." Seven's nervous nature cracked his voice. Which alluded to subtle tremors. "And yeah, you know the rest."

"Kyle, as the acting sergeant—" another stern look from the commander; this situation mirrored the lethality of the front lines. "Why did you order a retreat?"

Kyle hesitated, a long gulp from his canteen preceding his response. "Sir, the point was already lost. Plus, tanks rarely need repairs; they get destroyed first more often. Oh, but yeah. We did grab as much as we could carry and then some more when we high-tailed out of there. That’s got to earn us some points, right?"

The commander's eyebrows narrowed slightly, his cheeks shifting imperceptibly. This wasn't an explanation; it was an all-too-common tale of some dumbass covering their mistakes. By the looks of it, the group had accepted their fate—their execution was inevitable. The commander appeared to be contemplating it. A commissar would have already pulled the trigger. But then again.

Kyle, feeling the inevitable, continued, "In our defense, we were left unsupervised, and the pennant engine did redeem itself at last."

"Kyle, I swear to the Emperor that I will put a bolt round in your f**king head!" The commander's voice held no anger, perhaps disappointment. A brief memory was glimpsed on the outskirts of his consciousness. He turned away from Kyle. "Seven, remember your second tour in the Astartes Auxilia? If memory serves me right, it was with either the Lamenters or Space Sharks?" The commander's words stoked fear in Seven.

"Well, you saved a private back then, and now he’s returning the favour by not executing you." The weight of the commander's words settled slowly. It soon dawned on Seven what the commander was implying.

Harrison stumbled in, surprisingly sober. "Sorry, I took so long; something in the rations did not agree w-," he trailed off, sensing the tension in the room.

The five of them sat in a heavy silence, none daring to utter a misplaced word. The commander waited as if relishing the anticipation of their response. The stalemate persisted until the distant roar of an Earthshaker cannon shattered it. Seizing the moment, the commander revealed his plan—a way to escape all his impending paperwork.

"Since my bodyguard of scions happens to be on the eastern front doing jack all," his stern voice surpassed any dark Eldar threat in intimidation. "There are four of you. You’ll have your choice in the platoon's armoury, except you, Seven; you're getting a long las. And I’ll stitch together the remains of the 8th and 5th platoons. What do you say about being on the front line? Too bad this is an order."

Joke response: Bro thinks he the storyteller
Actual response: This seems interesting so far.

RIP 7

?

7 got on the front lines?

Oh right 😈

RIP literally everyone on the enemy frontlines then.

Lok