86 - Volume 13 - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

TO SEE EACH OTHER’S VISAGE

The investigation into the Actaeon was only beginning, so it would take time before official news of it would be passed along to the military and the populace. Still, two of the Strike Package’s officers had been arrested. The Strike Package members needed an explanation as to what happened. And their reaction to what they heard were expressions of speechless disgust.

“…So that’s why we found labs and operation tables in the internment camps during the Republic Relief Expedition,” Siri spat out bitterly.

“First, human wiretaps, and now a suicide-bomb virus. What the hell is the Republic thinking…?” Marcel grumbled.

“It was originally supposed to be research on fertilizer,” the head of the Reginleif research team said gravely. “It’s really…offensive, you know?”

As an agricultural power, the Republic was an expert in para-bio technology. Researching nitrogen-fixation bacteria enzymes made sense, since they produced useful fertilizer, but they ended up creating the human-bomb virus as a by-product of that research. For researchers who’d initially been devoted to providing an abundance of food for the people, veering off in such a direction was indeed blasphemy.

Incidentally, the other by-products of their research were the agricultural growth plants that’d been used in the Republic, United Kingdom, and Alliance since before the war, but that was neither here nor there.

“Oh, and, Second Lieutenant Marcel, the Dear cells aren’t an actual virus, so they’re not infectious. As far as we know, at least.”

Unlike a virus, the Dear cells didn’t self-replicate, instead producing nitroglycerin. As a result, they didn’t diffuse inside the Actaeon’s bodies or infect other bodies.

“We’re still waiting for the documents we seized to be fully examined, but as far as we know, they weren’t made to be contagious, so they wouldn’t spread through the Republic. Infectious biological weaponry doesn’t distinguish between friend or foe, making it hard to use. And especially with cells that turn a body into a bomb, the Republic won’t make them contagious even if there was a prophylactic treatment or a cure for them. It would be a risk to the Republic citizens themselves.”

“…?” Marcel looked shocked for a moment, but then nodded. “…Oh, I see. The Republic people wouldn’t want to be infected by the cells themselves, and even if they did, the risk of people next to them becoming a bomb would mean they could get caught in the blast, so they’d want to prevent other people from getting infected, too.”

“And the Actaeon did live with their new families for a year, and they were fine. A year is a pretty long incubation period for a biological weapon, and like First Lieutenant Shion just said, an operation was required to bring in the cells, so it’s highly unlikely they’re infectious… Oh, but, First Lieutenant Shion, do you remember any details about those facilities? Can you explain what you saw? Or maybe there’s gun-camera footage we can use…”

The head of research leaned in eagerly, likely hoping to gain information. Siri grimaced as he answered, and feeling unable to stay there any longer, Dustin silently got up from his seat and left the conference room.

After leaving, Dustin blindly walked around the corridors of the base, but it wouldn’t take him to the person he wanted to find. Even so, he felt urged by something and walked around aimlessly with fast steps.

One of the girls who were on the run, one of the Actaeon who caused the serial bombings, was his childhood friend, Citri Oki.

Dustin never knew she found refuge in the Federacy. He’d unconsciously assumed she died and never searched for her, but now she’d likely been turned into one of the Actaeon suicide weapons.

Where was Citri now? Why were the Actaeon causing these bombings? Was she out there somewhere, seeking help?

I… Shouldn’t I be out there? Shouldn’t I find her, keep her from exploding, and actually save her this time…?!

Driven by impatience, he turned a corner without looking ahead and nearly bumped into someone. Second Lieutenant Perschmann, who managed to avoid him at the last second, glared at him with reproach. However, the emotion in her calm, green eyes soon turned to concern.

“What’s wrong, Second Lieutenant Jaeger? You look terrible.”

“Nothing… Sorry.”

He must have appeared quite driven against the wall if she said that, but he had no idea how to explain it. He simply shook his head vaguely, and Perschmann seemed to understand his confusion. With a concerned expression, she took a wrapped caramel candy from her pocket, forced it into his fingers, and left.

Anju, who’d caught up to him since he stopped in his tracks, raised her voice instead.

“…Dustin.”

Right now, he didn’t want to turn and face this voice. Dustin stood stock-still, turned away from her. He had no doubt that she was looking at him with her pretty blue eyes, bluer than the highest point in the sky, as she spoke with a kind tone, like she was gently touching an open wound.

…Much like Citri’s eyes. Those pretty violet eyes that reminded him of the dawning sky.

“Do you know any of the Actaeon? Is it that girl you mentioned before? Citri.”

“She was my friend… My next-door neighbor and childhood friend.”

Dustin absentmindedly added that clarification, but it still made Anju gulp quietly. Dustin didn’t notice it.

“She was always a nice girl. There’s no way Citri would want to do anything like a bombing. She must be out there, looking for help. And even if she isn’t…she wouldn’t want to die in an explosion.”

Right.

“I want to…save her, somehow.”

Even though he didn’t know where Citri was or if she was still safe.

Without noticing it, he’d gripped and crushed the caramel candy in his hand.

Wary of a counterattack from the Kampf Pfau, which were capable of a similar range as them, the Morpho only fired short sporadic barrages every time, but even those short barrages were a major threat to the civilians living in the territories. This meant that unlike the first large-scale offensive, an operation to eliminate the Morpho wasn’t immediately issued.

The stress of being helpless in the face of enemy fire that could come at any time haunted the civilians of the territories nonstop. Flocks of independent evacuees swarmed away from their territories to the safer central and capital area.

A queue of vehicles carrying reservists on their way to the battlefield happened upon evacuees who, upon traveling the unfamiliar roads of the central region with trucks overloaded with supply materials, had gotten their vehicles stuck in a ditch. The reservists stepped outside to assist.

“…Looks like you won’t be able to get it out on your own. Hey, get a car over here. Let’s help them tow it out.”

“Which territory are you from, old man? Oh! I’m from there, too. What village?”

“Oh, thank you, good soldier. You really helped us out. Imagine running into a local all the way out here…”

As they noisily pulled the truck out of the ditch, they chatted about their home village.

“All right, old man, all of you take care on your journey!”

“You too, good soldier. Take care of yourselves!”

They waved at each other as if they were family. The evacuees and reservists parted ways, pondering about how good it was to meet a fellow local.

“—What’s this, mister? Enjoying life, I see, having so many cute princesses waiting on you like this. What, are you the illegitimate child of the late emperor?”

While they searched for cover under a bridge, they found that an old man was already set up there, greeting them in a joking manner. This was the first local whom Yuuto and his group interacted with since they moved west of the Nareva territory to a provincial city.

Compared with the capital and the cities in the central areas, Nareva was closer to a remote territory along the border, but since the Vesa territory sat between it and the battlefield, it was still far from the western front.

Of course, with the fronts falling back following the second large-scale offensive, the territory hadn’t received an order to evacuate yet. Perhaps the people here had all left of their own will, then.

“I see you’re living in class despite your age, too. The people here seemed to have evacuated. Were there orders to do that? Or…”

“Oh, thank you, young prince. Yes, one of those scrap monsters, a Morpho, attacked the area. The area here is still safe, but the next town over got bombed, and it scared everyone into running to the capital.”

The bombardment they’d heard of earlier really was a Morpho attack, it seemed. Reports of those bombardments became more frequent on the radio than talk of the Actaeon, so the damage was likely severe. Things were worse than Yuuto imagined, though.

Either way, Yuuto frowned.

“You should probably run, too. A Morpho attack really could blow this town away. Its shots have extremely high velocity, so if it does shoot this town, you’ll have no time to run.”

“The capital might be big, but it’s not big enough for everyone. A woman my age doesn’t have many years left. I may as well stay here.”

…You’re a woman?

Perhaps because of how bony and sunburned she was, Yuuto had assumed she must have been a man. He felt apologetic.

Citri leaned in sheepishly.

“B-but, ma’am, you should still run. If you stay here…you’ll die.”

“True. But I chose to live in this elegance, with snowflakes as my funeral flowers and the crows to sing my eulogy. A fine way to go. Finer than being hanged with a name I discarded.”

The old woman cackled. Her face and lips were tanned and withered, but her eyes alone shone red.

“And it’s all the same for you, isn’t it? You came all the way here, where you might die. I don’t know what pleasure jaunt you’re going on, but you came here of your own choice, eh? Then that’s a fine journey to go on. You may as well enjoy it, sweet princesses and you dashing prince.”

Nina put on the blackest clothes in her closet and went with her aunt, clad in mourning garments, to the national graveyard on the outskirts of Sankt Jeder, where the war dead slumbered.

They were attending a funeral for the husband of her aunt’s friend from her school days. He’d been drafted into the army and died. Since Sankt Jeder was on the north of the continent, the graves were all covered in snow during December. It was pure white and slightly bright, with a blanket of cold snow hanging over everything, just like that day she visited her brother’s grave and spotted a soldier his age.

Her brother’s friend Marcel said that was another friend of Eugene’s, Shin. Her favorite toy, a big cat doll, was a present from her brother and Shin. She asked Marcel to tell Shin to come visit Eugene’s grave together next time, and her aunt said she’d take them along on his next leave, but that next leave never came.

The Legion’s attacks grew more intense, and the Federacy military finally lost. Ever since, lots of grown-ups had been fighting really hard…and died, just like her brother and the man this funeral was for.

The casket being lowered into the hole in the ground was especially light. There likely wasn’t actually anyone inside. When her beloved brother died last summer, the casket had to remain closed, but now Nina, even as young as she was, realized that they were lucky there was anything left to bury.

“…Why do so many terrible things have to keep happening all at once?”

She heard someone else watching the funeral murmur, and those words hung especially heavy in her ears.

As one of the Republic volunteer troops, Claude’s paternal brother, First Lieutenant Henry Knot, was part of a mixed unit of Federacy troops and Republic volunteers. After multiple supply runs, they’d become quite familiar with each other.

“…This position really is under concentrated attack…!”

The trenches were awfully cold, as they were filled with muddy water mixed with melted snow. Henry spat out those words as he dragged out an ammunition belt from an ammo box to reload a stationary heavy machine gun. The staccato of intermittent fire, meant to keep the gun barrels from overheating, could be heard from every corner of the battlefield.

Dozens of kilometers behind them, the artillery camp rained hellfire on the metallic wave pushing on them, but new units soon trampled over the remains of fallen Legion, continuing the nonstop assault. The precious few 88 mm anti-tank guns fired repeatedly, assaulting the Löwe, which pressed on with superior numbers.

This position had been under attack for only a few days now, but in Henry’s mind, it felt like it had been this way forever.

A nearby Federacy soldier laughed in a mocking tone. “The Legion used to be Eighty-Six; maybe they have a grudge against you guys, First Lieutenant!”

“Could be! Too bad you guys have to get caught in the cross fire, then!”

The excitement and tumult of the battlefield ran high. Their jabbing and joking was all done in shouts and was perhaps a bit too extreme to come across as banter, but the fact that they could exchange such hard barbs stood as evidence of their good relations. And better to vent their frustration at the hopeless state of the battlefield than to just put up with it silently.

“I mean, us Republic soldiers should make for good decoys! Our silver hair shines and all that!” one of his Republic soldier subordinates said in a joking manner—likely spoken in total desperation.

“Oh, we can’t have the big country of justice send you out to be decoys!”

“If you’re the country of justice, you should get a hero to swoop down and blow ’em all up!”

“A hero sure would be nice right about now.”

“Maybe they’re working on one in the secret research institute.”

“But seriously, where’s our backup?! What are the Vargus wolfies doing?!”

“Is the eintopf we ordered getting delayed?!”

The snowy mud was chilling them to the bone while the Legion before them kept rolling over no matter how many they shot down. They had to joke and quip to blow off the fear and frustration. As cold and exhausted by battle as they were, seeing his men still had the cheer and morale to laugh and chatter made First Lieutenant Nino Kotiro, the most senior member of the battalion despite being the same rank as Henry, crack a bitter smile.

“Because we keep getting focused on, fire support and aid is constantly sent to us, and the surrounding units get ground down. Just hold out a little longer. Once you’re done, I’ll get you some hot coffee and eintopf!”

“Yes, sir!”

“But man, I can’t stand the first lieutenant’s homemade stew recipe; it’s always so spicy!”

“The hell did you just say?! It’s my wife’s best cooking!”

“How’s the eintopf over at your place, First Lieutenant Knot?! Bet you put in lots of pork!”

The troops ignored First Lieutenant Knot’s relatively serious retort. Henry almost burst out laughing at the joke and replied, as his stepmother often did make stew.

“Sorry, we use fish and eels instead! I’ll make it for you all someday; you’ll be surprised at how good it is!”

Like Jonas said, Lena and Annette weren’t allowed to leave the suite room in the military HQ’s annexed barracks, and they’d had their phones, information terminals, and RAID Devices taken away. Instead, they were allowed to watch the news and read newspapers, and indeed, when they demanded a newspaper be delivered to them, they were given the entirety of the daily paper. In other words, at least the higher-ups weren’t preventing them from accessing public information and were intent on letting them go back to the front lines once this incident was resolved.

…Which made Lena, seated on the classy sofa in this high official suite, bitterly think they could at least let them get in touch with Shin and the rest. In the few days since she and Annette had been brought here “for their own protection,” they’d examined the doors and windows in an attempt to escape, but everything was locked. Because of this, there was always someone in the corner of the room keeping an eye on them, either Jonas or one of the female soldiers working under him.

“I mean, this was all so sudden; I’m sure everyone’s worried about us. I’m worried, too. Rüstkammer is close to the battlefield, and the Legion’s offensive is ongoing.”

Shin had been expecting to see her soon, and now he was being denied this, so he must have been worried. But even so.

“Even if they knew where we are, they’re not reckless or hasty enough to charge in here. Those higher-ups are looking down on them!” Lena said, miffed.

“Hmm, no, I’m not so sure about that…,” Annette whispered wearily.

Especially when it came to Shin, Annette could see him hurrying over like a loyal dog rushing to his owner. Shiden was suspect, too. And so was Theo, who was outraged at Annette being taken away like he was the one being affected by it… He was less of a dog and more of a moody cat, though.

“…Are you listening to me, Second Lieutenant Jonas?! At least give back our RAID Devices!” Lena eventually turned around to face Jonas, unable to ignore him any longer.

After ignoring the barbed insults Lena had intentionally said loud enough for him to hear, Jonas replied indifferently, “I’m afraid I can’t do that for security reasons.”

Yuuto’s message took much longer to take seriously than expected, so Amari decided, after some wavering, to give Dustin the note. It felt like if she waited any longer, things would spiral past the point of no return, and this was preferable to having him feel like he’d abandoned Citri unknowingly.

“Dustin… Listen.”

She called out to him from behind in the Processors’ common office. Dustin turned around, his silver eyes meeting hers in confusion.

As a member of the 1st Battalion, Dustin hadn’t spoken to Amari before. He was the sole member of the Strike Package who was from the Republic, which made him a bit famous. So it made sense Amari would know him, but given there were over a hundred members from other battalions, Dustin wouldn’t know her.

“Hmm…?”

“Amari Mill. From the 4th Battalion’s Scramasax squadron. I have a message for you from Yuuto.”

She had to wonder if maybe he also didn’t know Yuuto, the captain of the 4th Battalion, but thankfully, it seemed he recognized the name. He gave an “ah” and nodded, still looking unsure as to what this was all about.

“You were hospitalized with him, then… So what is it? And wait, Yuuto isn’t with you?” he asked, realizing something was off.

The only ones who knew Yuuto had left with the girls were the commanders and staff officers of the Strike Package, as well as the head of the research team, and that information wouldn’t have spread to members of another battalion. The operations commander, Shin, who was acquainted with both Yuuto and Dustin, likely wasn’t in a mental state to be sharing this kind of information, either.

“Yuuto had to go somewhere else, so he left me with a message. It’s just…you’re a Republic citizen, so if it makes your position worse, you can pretend you didn’t hear me. If you can’t come, that’s understandable.”

“Huh? What are you—?”

“Do you know a girl called Citri?”

His argent eyes widened in surprise and froze over.

“She has flaxen hair and purple eyes, and she’s pretty like a doll… You know her, right?”

Seeing his reaction, Amari nodded. Good. Yuuto said Dustin wouldn’t be able to come along, but Citri said he knew her. So Amari thought that, as friends, they should meet one last time before the end.

“Yuuto’s with her. She’s an Actaeon, and…she won’t last long. She ran from home so no one would get caught up in it, but she wanted to meet her childhood friend…you…one last time before she dies. So Yuuto thought maybe you could come meet them— Whoa?!”

Amari jolted as Dustin grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Yuuto’s with her, right…? Do you know where Citri is right now?!”

She was taken aback by how desperately his silver eyes bored into her, and she nodded, trembling.

“I know, of course.”

Yuuto had told her that. How else would he have Dustin meet her otherwise? This was why she hadn’t told anyone about the message Yuuto entrusted with her, not to anyone and of course not to the military police. After all, if they caught up to them, Yuuto fleeing the Strike Package to protect those girls would have been for nothing. She did say they were headed for the Republic, but she spoke while assuming no one would believe her, given the Republic was firmly Legion territory by now.

And after a decade of war and isolation, the military police likely wasn’t aware of that. Because at present, the Republic’s territory was limited to the constraints of the Gran Mur walls and the eighty-five administrative Sectors. But before that, the Republic’s land bordered he Empire’s, the Federacy’s predecessor.

So it would be, on the edge of the Federacy’s domains—not quite close to the current western front’s defensive line, but past it.

“Their objective is Neunarkis, on the eastern tip of the Republic. To get there, they’re going through the Vesa territory to the Niva Nova, Noidafune, and Niantemis combat territories. If they’re on schedule, they should be around Vesa right now.”

The western front was currently stationed on the defensive encampment set along the Saentis-Historics line, which cut through the western combat territories. A section of that line was on the border of the Niva Nova combat territory and the Vesa production territory, which now stretched before Yuuto and his group. Vesa had been evacuated during the second large-scale offensive, becoming deployment ground for the western front’s logistical-support line, but there were no signs of combat on its eastern edge, where it bordered the Nareva territory. All they saw were abandoned grain fields, hurriedly harvested before the evacuation, and the sloping hills typical to the Federacy’s western countryside spanning as far as the eye could see.

It was altogether quiet, save for the sound of the wind brushing through the fields and rattling the treetops of nearby woodlands. Citri swallowed as she looked at the wintery hills in silence.

The towns and cities of Nareva, which they’d crossed on the way here, were deserted, as their inhabitants, too, had voluntarily left. But the sight of Vesa, fully evacuated and bereft of its populace, was a different kind of silence. In the midst of quiet that felt like it followed the end of all human life in the vicinity, the only thing that remained were flocks of sheep freed from their enclosures by their owners, grazing on the distant hills like fluffy winter clouds shining in the pale sunlight.

Their radio had stopped receiving transmissions some time ago. With the voluntary evacuations, the transmission facilities were likely closed. The fact that they couldn’t check on how the war was going was a bit concerning, but Yuuto thought Citri and the others were better off this way. Hearing about the deaths of other Actaeon girls and the people who’d been hurt in the process would only hurt them in kind, and they didn’t need that kind of pain if they were to go on with this journey.

Either way, they would soon approach the front lines, where there would be operating transmission facilities, and by the time they got there, the other Actaeon would have likely fled to a place free of people. If things could just settle down like this…

“…Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

Citri nodded, holding her long flaxen hair down against the cold wind.

Yuuto hadn’t taken any communication equipment, including his RAID Device. But if Dustin knew where they were going, Dustin could send some kind of signal. A smoke bomb or a flare would be sufficient for informing them of Dustin’s whereabouts. In fact, starting a fire to make smoke would do the trick.

This would be enough to tell Citri that he was there. That he came to save her.

Spurred on by this impulse, Dustin got to his feet. He dropped the clipboard in his hand without even realizing it, and Amari called out after him in surprise.

“Wait! Hey, Dustin!”

Dustin’s eyes were fixed solely on the gate to the Rüstkammer base, which wasn’t visible from the first barracks’ exit. He had his uniform and boots on, which was fine for the long march. He didn’t have time to gather materials for starting a fire, but he could just procure that on-site. As for a blade—he had his multi-tool knife on him now. He’d been taught to tell the directions by looking at the stars, so he didn’t need a compass and map. He needed to go out and find her, right now, right away.

Either way, he had to go. She told him to come find her, after all. So he had to make his way to Citri, whom he’d thought he’d never see again for some ten years now.

This time, he’d save her.

But then a cool, clear voice snapped him out of his boiling thoughts.

“Dustin, wait!”

She called out without thinking, stopping him in his tracks. But Anju couldn’t come up with any more words to say. She couldn’t bear the thought of him going. She’d overheard what Amari told him and knew she couldn’t let him go for his own sake. This went beyond Yuuto’s concern that Dustin being a Republic citizen would drive him into a bad position. The Vesa territory was right behind Niva Nova, where the western front’s defensive line was. Yuuto and the girl, Citri, were right behind the active battle zone with the Legion.

What’s more, the Silvas territory, where Rüstkammer base was, did not border either Vesa or Niva Nova, so even if he set out now, it wasn’t likely he’d catch up to them. At best, he’d link up with them at their destination, at Niantemis, the last stop before Neunarkis, at the Republic’s eastern edge. And that area, too, was under Legion control now.

She couldn’t let him go.

An Eighty-Six or a Sirin could possibly make that trip…but not Dustin. At his skill level, not only would he fail to return, it was doubtful he’d even make the one-way trip.

But despite knowing this, Anju stood still, unable to find the words. Because she knew that if he didn’t go, it would hurt him. The fact that he abandoned Citri would be a scar on his heart. He called her his friend. Said he wanted to help her. Abandoning her despite that would leave an irreparable scar on Dustin’s kind, fastidious soul.

And knowing this, Anju couldn’t say anything else. She didn’t want him to go, and at the same time, she didn’t want to hurt him by telling him that. So she couldn’t say one or the other.

But even so, Anju’s expression as she stood there was enough to bring Dustin to his senses. She’d told him not to die, and he said he wouldn’t. And once he calmed down, he realized how reckless he was for trying to go out with no preparations, without seeing this would be a difficult journey even if he left with all the preparations in the world.

For neglecting to see that if he went out as he was, he wouldn’t return alive.

Anju stood frozen in place, her expression contorted with anxiety and conflict. She knew she couldn’t let Dustin go, and though she couldn’t say anything else, she felt like she had to tell him he mustn’t do it, and all the words failed her.

He didn’t want to betray her… He couldn’t bring himself to do that. So he managed a smile, somehow.

“I’m sorry. I won’t go… I can’t go on my own.”

He’d never be able to march through Legion territory. He wouldn’t even reach the western front, because before he’d reach the Vesa territory, the chaotic traffic of the roads—with all the supply lines and soldiers being sent there and back—would impede him. And he couldn’t report the situation to the Federacy army, either, as that would be exposing what Citri, a living Actaeon, and Yuuto, a deserter, were doing.

So either way, he couldn’t go. He knew that.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten my promise. I won’t die. I won’t walk to my death.”

But if Citri left that message, she must have truly wanted him to come help her. If she told him where she was going, she must have truly intended to wait for him. Could he abandon her, then?

In exchange for protecting the Snow Witch’s wish?

“I’ll find a way to be sneaky about this… I’m allowed to be unfair in that way. So don’t look like you’re about to cry.”

Those words finally made Anju’s expression twist in sorrow.

The village’s people all knew one another like family, and there were rarely ever outsiders, so they likely didn’t anticipate the possibility of theft. The most they did was lock the farm with a padlock to keep crows and cats from messing up the place.

Yuuto kicked open the door to the abandoned farm’s barn. It wasn’t a sturdy padlock to begin with, but with being old and rusted, it snapped and went flying, opening the door with surprising ease.

Maybe it was to block off violent intrusion, but the closed doors tried to keep outsiders out. As the door swung back, screeching, he opened it with a hand and looked inside. The blades and hoes used to tend to the fields were shining and in good shape, quite the contrast to the rusted padlock. They’d likely been maintained until just before the owners evacuated.

That thought made Yuuto feel apologetic as he helped himself to these tools, picking up a hatchet. So far, he’d avoided people since they had no weapons, but a blade like this was handy to have.

Citri peered curiously into the barn from behind him. She knew they were going to break in to get their hands on things inside the barn, but she didn’t expect him to kick the door in.

“Is this for fighting off bears or wolves or something?”

“Of course not.”

Yuuto shook his head slowly and motioned toward the spanning, harvested fields with the hatchet still sitting in its sheath. The view was typical of the production territories’ agricultural landscape, with towns dotting the horizon. This was also true of the Miana and Nareva territories they’d crossed on the way here. However…

“The Vesa territory is currently the area the logistical-support unit of the western front’s army is deployed in. They tore down any towns and houses that might get in the way of their work, so we might have trouble finding structures to take cover from the rain and the wind. We’ll need some blades to make a windbreak.”

They couldn’t start a fire in windswept weather. And a makeshift shelter wouldn’t do much to stave off the cold, so he’d avoid it if possible, but given no other option, it was better than nothing.

“Really…,” Citri murmured, her eyes round with surprise.

The girls then exchanged looks and bravely nodded.

“You said a blade, right?”

“I’ll carry it. We can help you make a shelter.”

Yuuto looked at them with surprise, taken aback by the sudden suggestion.

“I mean, if you need to make the shelters, too, that’ll be more of a burden on you, right? We have to help.”

And it was just like the old woman said. They were on their path because they chose to be here, and since they came so far, they might as well make it a fine journey.

This was, after all, their first and final journey.

“We want to try all the things you’re doing.”

It seemed Lena had her RAID Device and all her communication devices taken away during her “arrest.” The same was apparently true of Annette when she was “taken into protection.”

The audacity of using the word protection, Shin thought in indignation as he spent his free time after work in Fido’s standby space. He chose to remain here so he wouldn’t be seen by his subordinates in this mental state.

Once it became late and lights-out was approaching, he returned to the barracks, where he found Frederica standing pensively in the hall.

“…What’s wrong, Frederica?”

She turned to look at him. “’Tis not I. ’Tis Dustin and Anju…”

Shin nodded. Yuuto had reported, through Amari, that Dustin knew one of the Actaeon…which did remind Shin he’d forgotten to tell Dustin about it. Frederica seemed to notice this change in his expression and shrugged.

“You are too troubled to think of Dustin at a time like this. You could ask Kurena, Claude, or Tohru to handle it.”

“…Thanks.”

She was right; he honestly wasn’t in an emotional state to be occupied with those two.

“Worry not, I shall handle it. If the need calls for it, I shall throw Dustin to the Legion in your stead.”

When Shin heard this, his mood finally lifted a little.

“Surely, I can’t leave that up to you… Daiya would scold me if I did.”

He’d probably get mad at Shin for letting a little kid do his work for him. Daiya, who was younger than him by now, had been one to seriously get mad at things like that.

He was right to assume the worst and start working early. Thanks to that, despite Citri and the other girls handling the hatchet and other such equipment awkwardly, they were able to set up shelter before sundown.

“Wow, it’s like a house…!”

“I can’t believe we made this from branches and trees.”

It was only good to stay under for one night, and with branches covered in leaves, it hardly made for a hut, but Kiki and Karine looked upon it with excited eyes.

Shiohi and Citri somehow managed to start a campfire and took out food cans, while Ashiha and Imeno went out to gather twigs but were clearly playing together. They tore off the bark from naked trees and squealed upon discovering the hibernating ladybugs underneath, and they jolted whenever a field mouse or something rustled in the underbrush.

“Hey, enough playing around. Dinner is ready.” Citri pouted at them.

It was only heated canned food and fried hard, heavy bread, but since she was able to keep the fire stoked all on her own, this counted as a perfectly valid “dinner” in her eyes.

The other four returned and sat around the campfire they’d dug into the ground. Karine volunteered to make them after-meal tea, brewing it from pine needles. Relaxing, Yuuto opened the map to confirm their course the following day.

“Right now, we’re in Vesa. To the northwest is the Runiva combat territory and the southwest borders with Niva Nova. Both have positions for the western front’s army set up there. Like I said at noon, Vesa is an area where the western front’s support units are deployed. There’s no civilians around anymore, but we’ll have to be wary of soldiers from here on out.”

They wouldn’t be killed if they were caught, but they would definitely be arrested and taken into custody. And since Yuuto was a deserter on the run, he would absolutely get into major trouble.

The girls huddled around the map, which had their planned route lined out with a colored marker.

“We can slip through the Federacy’s position and the Legion patrol line by heading into the virgin forest in the northern part of Niva Nova. This path is going to take us the most number of days to traverse. After that, we’ll go south through Legion territory into Noidafune, and then west to Niantemis.”

He based his assumption that their journey would require less caution once they crossed the Legion patrol line on the events of two years ago. Back then, when Shin and his group passed through the territories. That, and the Sirins’ multiple incursions into Legion territory also proved that small groups of human-size creatures were able to both infiltrate and operate behind Legion lines. With the Republic destroyed, the Legion had their forces focused on the western front and didn’t leave troops just loitering around in their territories.

In this vast wilderness that spanned four hundred kilometers from north to south, a small group of humans, with their low heat signatures and diminutive size, would be difficult to spot with so many sloping hills, nameless forests, and patches of tall grass to hide in.

“Is there anything we should watch out for, too?” Imeno asked, tilting her head.

“There’s a few things. Since we’re moving closer to the Federacy’s positions, you’ll have to stay quiet, especially during the night. That’s true in the Legion’s territories, too. Noise travels far, especially after dark. If you have to light a fire on your own, make sure you dig a hole like I just did and light the fire in there.”

This was something Yuuto and only a few Eighty-Six heard about, but there was an old Vargus anecdote about a night sentry who needlessly lit a cigarette, and its light resulted in him being sniped. Recalling this, Yuuto jokingly added, “So if you’re going to make a fuss looking around for bugs or small critters, you should get it out of your system while you still have a chance.”

Imeno and the others all responded with “yes.” Citri puffed out her cheeks grumpily and smacked him on the back, but the slap had all the strength of a tiny bird and failed to even jolt his shoulders.

Having to make sure the two Republic officers were protected meant that Jonas was away from his master’s side, but he did keep in touch with him. He asked about the ongoing investigation into the Actaeon while wondering how much he should tell Lena and Annette. At the same time, he was worried about the slight tinge of exhaustion in Willem’s voice, which only he would pick up on, owing to his long service.

“—Also, we found the body of one of the fugitive girls. It was a suicide. While not as useful as a living specimen, her body was sent to the technical-research institute’s anti-biological weapon department to be dissected under the pretense of an autopsy. They’re working on it now.”

“…”

Jonas had to wonder if it really was suicide. Even if it was winter and the police and the forces garrisoned around the capital were actively searching for them, it was hard to believe that one would discover the corpse of someone suspected of committing suicide while it was fresh enough to be investigated.

Willem seemed to sense Jonas’s suspicion and laughed sardonically. He spoke in a rebuking manner, a tone Jonas had heard when he was still a child early in his service but had rarely heard in recent years.

“It’s suicide, Jonas. We’re not in a situation where we can have our troops cross that line…and it’s uncouth to doubt the courage and resolve of a girl who chose to willingly end her own life before she became a living bomb.”

Since the virus used cell activity to synthesize nitroglycerin, the nonfunctioning cells of a corpse were useless for that purpose. But even if she knew that, choosing death would still be a terrifying, difficult choice to make for a girl who wasn’t trained to be a soldier or to serve as a master’s shield.

Jonas closed his eyes in shame. Coolheadedness and cruelty were two different things, much like how carefully scrutinizing information was different from suspicion that interpreted everything in the worst possible way.

“My apologies… So we’ll be disclosing accurate information to the press sooner than expected?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer not to reveal this at all if possible, but sadly, we can’t do that.”

“Misinformation and irresponsible rumors only caused unease and panic, especially among the masses. This was all the truer now, with public unrest being high across all society due to the worsening state of the war. This meant that delivering accurate news was the best solution to avoid that, but…delivering the information was difficult to do. False information about new self-propelled mines or biological weapons was too eerily similar to the rumors. Perhaps we should have forbidden them from airing that program.”

“That much is inconsequential. Anyone could possibly come up with that. The real problem is that, of all things, the Republic is responsible for this.”

Jonas blinked at that surprising response. Unusually enough, his master let out a quiet but deep sigh on the other side of the Resonance.

“This would give the masses a clear evil to pin all the blame on…and in our current situation, that could lead to troublesome things.”

With the Morpho’s bombardment ongoing, the number of evacuees from the frontier territories steadily grew, and even the central territories around Sankt Jeder were running out of room to accommodate them. Almost all the vacancies in hotels and apartment buildings had been filled to capacity when the second large-scale offensive began.

For the time being, public facilities were opened up and converted to accept evacuees, but even those facilities were limited in number. Daily necessities and foodstuffs were becoming an issue, too.

After being sent out to help with building facilities, distributing food, and having to be overwhelmed with demands and complaints and appeals that he had to comply with for days on end, Theo was exhausted. With the lack of combatants on the front turning critical, the reservists weren’t the only ones being called there. Soldiers were being pulled out of support units, leaving units like Theo’s understaffed.

And so he wobbled over to the base’s food court, intent on getting something sweet to drink in the form of caramel coffee. That was when he noticed it.

“…Huh?”

Both the café he was headed for, as well as the fast-food chain next to it, and indeed every store in the food court…had upped their prices across the board, albeit slightly. He wondered why while ordering his caramel coffee, and as he sipped on it, the question kept churning in the back of his mind until it suddenly occurred to him.

“Right… The territories…”

Following the front line falling back due to the second large-scale offensive, part of the production territories had to be evacuated, which meant the production of their agricultural land, livestock farms, and factories was also lost. The influence of that was felt two months later, with supply dropping in Sankt Jeder and prices hiking all over the capital area. This applied not only to crops, which were after their harvest season, but also to dairy products, meat, and daily necessities.

As she watched a news report stating some necessities had to be rationed, Lena sipped on the synthesized tea Annette brewed her.

Such luxury items were the first to be replaced with the cultivated starch from the production plants. This meant that going forward, they would either become preciously rare or be churned out of the factories, which stressed production numbers over quality. It was much like how terrible the synthesized coffee and tea had been in the Republic, with the exception of products sold in a few rare shops in Liberté et Égalité’s department stores.

“I doubt they’ll start serving those plastic explosives as food anytime soon, but…”

Annette muttered this, apparently thinking the same thing. Lena cracked a faint, strained smile. During the two months of the first large-scale offensive, Lena had to eat the synthesized food blocks served in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. It looked like white clay and tasted like void, to the point that labeling it as food felt like a travesty. Annette probably felt the same and didn’t want to have to eat that thing again for as long as she lived.

“The Federacy is much larger and richer in resources than the Republic was, and things never came to that while the Republic was inside the walls, so I doubt it’ll happen here.”

“That might be true, but that just means the Federacy’s population is that much bigger. If the evacuation of the production territories doesn’t stop and more farms and factories end up abandoned, production will keep going down, and the shortage will get worse. It’s not impossible.”

Lena pondered this for a few seconds. Annette was right. And then Lena shuddered.

What if that thing became their primary source of food again?

The voluntary evacuations following the Morpho attacks put the military’s transport net, which was already heavily congested, in a worse position. Groups traveled the roads unsupervised and unregulated, with no instructions of what paths to take or where their destinations were. They passed through trails they weren’t allowed to wander into. Roads that were exclusive for military use and railroad tracks were clogged by refugees, and they gathered at supply depots, seeking aid, which obstructed military supplies from arriving and moving.

All this meant that soldiers had to be relegated to guarding and guiding refugees, which pushed the supply unit, already stretched to its limit, over the edge.

As a result, the second northern front under Lieutenant Colonel Niam Mialona, as well as other fronts, were set to experience delays in their supply runs. The ammunition, fuel, medicine, and reinforcements they required wouldn’t reach them. This meant that units requesting supplies would have to account for the delays by making larger orders, which would further increase the supply unit’s burden.

Without necessary troops and supplies, positions that would otherwise hold on would start falling, and wounded soldiers who would have survived with sufficient medicine would die. That would cascade into more soldiers being injured and dying to the constant pressure the Legion applied, which would then require units to demand more reinforcements, which would further strain the logistic units.

That said, with the state of the war being what it was, reservists died soon after taking to the front, so there was a constant shortage of troops.

“This is a headache. What are we supposed to do?”

Lieutenant Colonel Mialona finally sighed. Be it lack of supplies or reinforcements, their sole grace was that the bare minimum of food supplies were arriving on time. The Federacy prioritized the army when it came to delivering the finest provisions, since high-quality meals helped boost morale. This was why the cities on the home front were suffering from a lack of food and a decline in its quality, while the soldiers on the front faced no such problems yet. Before long, luxuries like sweets, cigarettes, and alcohol would become precious commodities on the home front.

Her unit’s young operator, standing by her side, spoke with a stiff, serious tone.

“You can get a hearty meal in the army. Maybe that should become the Federacy military’s recruitment slogan, Princess.”

“What century did you pull that idea from?” She couldn’t help but smile bitterly at his black humor.

People enlisting in the army because they had no other way of filling their bellies was a situation that had never happened throughout the Empire’s glorious history. Sensing the joking in the air, her lieutenant then added with a jovial tone:

“Maybe we should gather all these evacuees and use them as reservists. That’ll relieve our lack of soldiers, lighten up the pressure on supplies, and resolve the food shortage back at the home front.”

Lieutenant Colonel Mialona’s unpleasant smile deepened. She knew this was just a joke, and yet.

“Don’t be stupid, Hisno.”

It appeared the great majority of Actaeon had gone into hiding in unpopulated places. The news reporting on bombing incidents that happened on an almost daily basis had died down and mostly been forgotten. This wasn’t to say it wasn’t mentioned at all, but there were simply no incidents to report on.

“That’s why they ran away from home, according to what Yuuto said… I guess that’s good, at least,” Kurena murmured.

Shin and the other Processors didn’t know the Actaeon girls, but they were still fellow Eighty-Six. They were all concerned about them on some level, and so they ended up watching the TVs in the lounges and dining halls for details about them. However, by now, the news was focused solely on the difficult fighting on the front lines and the chaos caused by the evacuations.

“I doubt none of them considered taking revenge on the Republic, but where they were evacuated to wasn’t disclosed,” Raiden said as he ate his traditional Federacy breakfast of steamed beans and bacon. “In which case, they wouldn’t want to get innocent people caught up in their problem, and if they can avoid doing that, that’s for the best.”

“Yeah, at the very least.”

“…But if that’s the case…,” Shin murmured to himself, and Raiden and Kurena glanced at him but didn’t say anything else. Shin didn’t notice that.

The Actaeon went into hiding, and the bombing incidents were gone from the news, but Grethe said the investigation was still officially ongoing. And yet…for whatever reason it may be, not having people who should be by their side present did take a toll on his appetite. But his acquired nature as a warrior instructed him to eat and keep up his stamina, so he gripped his fork tightly. He’d managed to swallow his indignation before, but having the lack of progress dangling in front of his eyes made it surge up again.

“Why isn’t Lena being brought back?”

Yuuto told them that according to the Actaeon’s own admission, much like real mines, they had a time limit set to their self-detonation, so as to dispose of them after enough time.

“The girls who ran have their time limit set to this December. This fits with Second Lieutenant Crow’s testimony.”

The head of the research team came to Grethe’s office to present the results of their investigation into seized documents on the Actaeon. This was, after all, not information they could tell the Eighty-Six as is.

“Also, this is putting it in a very cruel way, but they’re only test subjects, not full-blown weapons. They simply used those girls without brainwashing or conditioning them, and the girls want to avoid hurting other people, too. If another incident doesn’t happen, we can wait until New Year’s to quietly disclose the facts and declare everything is safe.”

Assuming that over the course of this month, the girls would all stay hidden and blow up in secret. Grethe sighed softly. Indeed, it was a cruel way of putting it, and still…

“So it looks like everything will fizzle out safely. I suppose the reports of the Morpho ended up drowning out that news and was a blessing in disguise.”

If nothing else, those girls wouldn’t be forced to have their good names besmirched.

“…But that said, even if we have to wait until the situation naturally fizzles out, I do want Colonel Milizé and Major Penrose returned to us. I think Captain Nouzen’s patience with regards to Colonel Milizé is at its limit.”

Grethe knew Lena and Annette were under Willem’s protection, which implied they were being kept safe and cared for…but Grethe hadn’t disclosed the fact that Willem was behind it to Shin. Shin was doing a good job of putting up with it so far, but if he found out it was Willem, Shin would no doubt lose his temper.

“Well, I know you don’t like the Killer Mantis, but I do understand why he made that decision,” said the head of the research team, sipping on extra-caffeinated coffee substitute that was thick like mud.

He was from the other family that developed the Reginleif—in other words, Grethe’s family business—and was a childhood friend of hers who had an inseparable bond with her.

“You’re in the same boat, Grethe. When things go awry, it’s the king who gets hanged. Heroes who failed get sent to the gallows… Though, victorious heroes get sent to the gallows just the same. Either way…”

“…Yes.”

Grethe dropped her eyes. This was why Willem and the military’s top brass were acting cautiously and keeping those two under custody.

“Depending on how this goes, they—particularly Colonel Milizé—might still be in danger. They could end up getting caught in the cross fire here…and that could go on to make things worse.”

Yuuto and the group’s shelter for that day was a small, deserted village hidden deep in the woods, likely evacuated following the second large-scale offensive. Seeing the girls’ expressions, filled with the temptation of sleeping in a bed for once, he stopped in his tracks, picked one of the civilian homes, and pried its nailed door open.

Thankfully, this town was off the highway and in a thick forest, making it too small to serve as a camp for a company of troops, so the odds of them being discovered here were slim. As evening fell, he pulled cloths over the windows, which were closed not by glass panes but by wooden planks, then he lit a discarded lamp. This village seemingly wasn’t connected to a power grid.

Citri looked around the unfamiliar sight of a Federacy home on the western frontier with interest and clear relief.

“So this is what a Federacy countryside house looks like.”

“It’s pretty different from the capital. From the Republic, too.”

They felt a bit guilty about invading someone else’s home, but it had been a long time since they got to sit in a chair, by a table, surrounded by a wooden floor, walls, and ceiling. The cooking stove’s kindling looked usable, so Karine went ahead and lit it. As Yuuto watched the girls awkwardly light the stove and use the pot to make dinner from their canned food, he sank into thought.

Dustin didn’t make it in the end. The plan was to meet up with him here in Vesa, but he either didn’t get the message or heard it too late, much like how the Federacy military was late to react to the Actaeon.

And while Vesa was still within the Federacy’s lines, once they crossed into Niva Nova, they’d be on the battlefield proper, making a rendezvous impossible. Even if Dustin did lose all his composure and hurried over, someone would have stopped him.

…Yuuto would have liked to have them meet if possible. Dustin…and Citri both wished for it, too.

Citri waited for the pot to boil with a pleased expression, unaware of Yuuto’s thoughts. Kiki, Imeno, and Shiohi were around her.

“It’s like a fairy-tale house. Like where the sick grandma lives.”

“True! Either that, or the story with the hardworking dwarves or the baby goat brothers.”

“And then there’d be a donkey with a chicken on its back crying outside.”

Everyone casually looked over to the wooden window, and as if on cue, they heard some kind of animal crying from outside.

“…Is that a donkey?”

“I don’t know…”

Yuuto pondered that thankfully it wasn’t a wolf, and it was quite far away from the window, but he had no idea what it was. He had no idea what they meant by a donkey with a chicken on its back, either.

Ashiha, who had unevenly cut reddish hair and was the most cheerful of the group, said, “Oh, but that’s how my great-grandma used to live! Back when she was little, villages didn’t have electricity yet, so they had to use firewood to cook!”

“Really?”

“’Cause I used to live in the boonies. When I was little, we had to walk a whole day to get to the next village over.” Ashiha smiled, her eyes creasing as she basked in the memories.

…Memories of the homeland that the Eighty-Six, Yuuto included, had forgotten over their time on the battlefield. Yuuto could only remember bits and pieces, so his hometown didn’t have much nostalgic value in his eyes.

“…What was it like?” The question slipped from his lips unawares.

Yuuto was probably the one most surprised at having asked such a question.

Have I…ever wanted to ask such a question?

As the girls’ eyes, each a different color, turned to him, Yuuto avoided looking into Citri’s violet ones, fixed his eyes on the lamp, and continued his question.

“Your hometowns… The places you want to return to.”

As operations commander and his lieutenant, Shin and Raiden—as well as Kurena and Anju, who were also among the first Eighty-Six to be taken in by the Republic—were recognized as the leader figures and were therefore quite busy. This included managing the armored divisions and planning for the next operation in secret. Despite not being able to fully take their places, the other platoon leaders of the Strike Package, including Claude and Tohru, picked up whatever small tasks those four weren’t able to attend to.

Like, for instance, looking after Dustin, the weakest of the Processors.

Standing at the entrance to Dustin’s room, where he had shut himself off and refused to leave, Tohru said, “Try to eat something, Dustin. You could at least come out at mealtimes.”

Sitting in his small room, as cramped as a corridor, Dustin remained seated on his bed and refused to raise his head.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat even if you don’t have an appetite. Eat even if they’re serving you those nasty synthesized rations or if you just saw something get blown to chunks. If you don’t, you won’t have the strength when the time comes.”

That was how things worked in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. The scrap monstrosities kept on attacking no matter how sick one got or how many people died, so they knew they needed to have their stomachs full of something so they could fight whenever the need arose. This would no doubt be the same on the Federacy’s battlefield, and Dustin was a Processor, just like Tohru and the rest. So Tohru had to come to Dustin’s room to ensure he did what he needed to do.

“If you don’t like people worrying about you and calling you over, I could bring Claude to stand here with his sour face. Come on, go get something to eat.”

“…You’re worried about me, too.”

Tohru scoffed. “Yeah, I’m a captain in the Strike Package worrying about a soldier who can fight. Don’t act all spoiled, moron.”

He treated him as a fellow Processor, but Tohru wasn’t going to buddy up with him. Shutting himself off in his room for today was tantamount to selfish behavior on the battlefield, especially toward someone who brought food to his doorstep every day without complaint.

Dustin looked at him with a feeble, bitter smile.

“Yeah, you’re right… Then while I’m being spoiled, will you ignore what I’m about to say?”

He couldn’t tell this to Anju. Nor could he tell Kurena and Frederica, since they could pass it on to her, and Shin, Raiden, and Vika were too busy. Marcel would listen but take this pointless story more seriously than Tohru would.

Tohru shrugged and then turned around indifferently, as if to say, I’ll listen to you, so come on. Dustin started talking, faltering over his words.

“…She was a kind, pretty girl. A bit like a princess.”

“You mean Citri?” Tohru asked without turning around, still walking ahead.

“Yeah.”

She was like a princess who loved fairy-tale heroes. When Dustin was younger, he was like a knight who swore loyalty to that princess.

“She was a princess I had to protect… That’s what I thought.”

But—

—Dustin. You mustn’t look outside tonight.

When his mother said those words, he could tell something was wrong by looking at her pale, slender face, so he obeyed and went to sleep that night without opening the curtain. He remembered it to this day. The eerie silence of the morning that followed.

When he left the house, Citri didn’t come out to greet him, and both she and her parents were gone. When he saw there was no one in the streets or the shops, he hurried to school. Running through the deserted town, he prayed, hoping he’d find someone there, that the place where he spent time with Citri and his classmates would still be there, unchanged.

But even when he got to school, there was no one around. He never cared much for the news before, but he started watching it desperately…and they said all sorts of weird things. That people of other races were enemies. Citri and her people were traitors. They spoke obvious falsehoods like they were the absolute truth.

But contrary to Dustin’s belief, everyone else around him started believing the weird things the TV said. The stains weren’t human to begin with. An unevolved lesser species. Swine in human form. Parts for a drone that fought the Legion.

Even though Citri and everyone else were actually human.

At the time, Dustin didn’t know the words to correct everyone. All he could do was helplessly stare in stunned silence at a world gone mad. He couldn’t commit to the role of a fairy-tale knight when he was needed most. That was why…

“This time…I want to save her.”

This was why he volunteered to join the Strike Package, to sweep away the Republic’s sins—it was the penance he had to pay.

The Eighty-Six were driven out of the Republic to the Eighty-Sixth Sector, and only a few million people survived. They came from all sorts of places, and likewise, the Actaeon were from varied backgrounds.

Kiki said she was born in a town with many old steeples. Shiohi was born in a village where the mountains of the Alliance were visible. Karine grew up in the southern vice capital of Euztiria. Imeno spoke of seas of golden, swaying wheat, while Ashiha told with amusement of days spent looking after sheep. They all had families and friends.

Citri’s turn came last. She spoke of moving to a new, pretty town and eventually of the childhood friend she grew up with—the kind, dependable boy next door who was like a fairy-tale prince. Of how she waved her best friend good-bye one day, never to see him again.

“…That’s why I wanted to see him. So he wouldn’t worry about me.”

With a faint smile relishing sweet reminiscence, Citri cast down her eyes and finished her story.

…Have you heard of a man called Dustin Jaeger?

Dustin was Alba, but he was also of Imperial descent, so she’d been worried he might have gotten sent to the camps, too. But as she lived outside the rules, she overheard researchers speaking of the events of the Revolution Festival and mentioning his name, which made her only more concerned.

The final Revolution Festival, just before the large-scale offensive. The name of the student who gave the valedictorian speech.

—How long will this continue?!

He said this to the faces of all the Republic’s citizens. And if she was the reason he said that, if he felt like he’d abandoned or failed to protect her and openly opposed the Republic for it…

“I wanted to meet him, to make sure this wasn’t a curse on him…but if meeting him now would burden him with a curse in its own way, I think maybe it’s for the best we didn’t meet.”

Just knowing he was safe, that he survived both this offensive and the one before that…

“I’m…fine with that much.”

“…”

Yuuto had to ask himself if that was true. If there was nothing else he would have done, had he been in Dustin’s shoes. He, who couldn’t even shoulder a single curse.

“Hey, you’re last in line…” Imeno leaned in. “What was your hometown like, Yuuto?”

“I hardly remember it. I didn’t have the time to.”

Imeno gave a small “ah” and fell quiet, but Yuuto carried on. He tried to piece together what bits and pieces of that scenery lingered in his memories.

“I think my roots are from a region far away from the Republic. As I remember it now, we had different customs than the rest of town. So we were…not quite ostracized, but…”

For example, the kind of fairy tales he was told. The way they made tea. He could hardly recall his mother’s and relatives’ faces, but for some reason, the strong, sweet fragrance of that tea remained in his memories.

He had to throw everything away to survive. The yearly survival rate in the Eighty-Sixth Sector was 0.1 percent, but Name Bearers lasted longer, meaning fighting alongside the same Name Bearers for years was fairly common. Like Shin and the four other members of the Spearhead squadron, or Shiden and the Brísingamen squadron, or Claude and Tohru.

But Yuuto really was alone. The members of his last squadron and the acquaintances he knew beforehand had all died. He truly joined the Strike Package with none of his comrades left alive.

“I probably just wasn’t lucky. To begin with, Name Bearers—surviving veteran soldiers—tend to get sent to the most heavily contested areas, and I think both me and all the people around me weren’t strong enough to protect others on top of ourselves.”

And so, still as weak as he was, without protecting anyone or even trying to protect anyone…he survived alone.

Since he never tried to protect anyone, no death ever hurt him, and even though he remembered others, he never truly felt for them. Without ever noticing the warped loneliness he felt.

—Maybe it’s best that I don’t meet him, so I don’t burden him with a curse.

I’m not sure about that. Never having to be hurt, but also having no one to think back on fondly. If that’s how I have to live my life, maybe…

“Having to carry the burden of someone’s curse…would have been better.”

Raiden thought that maybe Theo, who was stationed in a base in Sankt Jeder, knew where Lena was, but the answer he got from the other side of the Resonance was bad news.

“They took Annette, too…?”

“If nothing else, they’re not on my base. I think they’re in the army HQ, but I can’t make up a reason to get permission to go there, and I don’t know anyone there who could check… Did Lena and Annette get in touch with you guys?”

“No… And it’s got Shin on edge. And I’ll be honest, it’s getting annoying.”

It wasn’t entirely terrible because Shin knew better than to let it show in front of the other members, but since he didn’t care about appearances around Raiden, he made no effort to hide his feelings there. Anju being depressed over Dustin was one thing, but he kept his composure in front of Kurena, probably as some last bastion of pride. Albeit, Kurena did notice his foul mood and was worried about him.

“What is he, some anxious pet dog?” Theo laughed, amused. “I kind of wish I could be there to see Shin like that.”

Owing to their long acquaintance, he came up with a very fitting metaphor.

“I guess I know how he feels, though. Seeing Annette get taken away like that makes me worried, too. Thinking back on it now pisses me off.”

“Huh. I didn’t know you two got along that well.”

“We really don’t. God, why does everyone keep saying that…?”

Theo seemed to be on good terms with his colleagues in his new base, and apparently, it was painfully obvious to their eyes, too.

Theo then took a breath and hushed his voice.

“…But for how much it ticks me off, I’m starting to think doing that to them might have been the right idea. Looking at things now.”

“Mm?”

“The town next to your base already got evacuated, so you wouldn’t notice, but… Over here in Sankt Jeder, the atmosphere both at the base and in town is pretty horrible.”

As he spoke, Theo glanced at the end of the hall, glaring at a few soldiers who looked like they had something to say. He didn’t care if they were scrutinizing his friendship with Annette or treating him as a wiretap for being Eighty-Six. Following the wiretap incident, the criticism directed at the government after the first large-scale offensive was turned at the Republic citizens and the Alba.

“With so many soldiers dead and refugees coming in, everyone’s pointing fingers at one another, looking for someone to blame. It’s annoying. They’re running their mouths about the Strike Package, too, saying you should just go beat the Morpho already. They basically want ten Shins, and ten of Anju, Kurena, and you, basically ten of every Processor to come and clean things up. And Lena, His Highness, and Colonel Grethe.”

“Theo, chill. Especially with Vika. Imagine having to handle ten of him—it’d be a nightmare.”

“Just add ten of the priest and the Open Sea clans, and it’d be perfect… Anyway, stuff like this is why Republic people like Annette are better off not being on this base. Everyone’s in a frenzy, and they’d definitely lash out at her.”

“…Was the Morpho bombardment that bad?” Raiden asked, lowering his voice.

“The bombardment on its own wasn’t that bad; it’s just that on top of there being a lot of refugees, now there are people who voluntarily evacuated and are fleeing here. People’s discontent and opposition to them is pretty big.”

“Mm? Why are they opposing the people who evacuated?”

It would make sense if it was the evacuees who were showing discontent, but before that thought could reach Raiden’s lips, he sighed. That made sense. Theo hadn’t assumed this would happen, either.

“All the people who lived here to begin with won’t stop arguing…! They complain about them not knowing the language or how to read signs, or about how the stores are all crowded with people, or how all the libraries and parks are getting turned into shelters. Basically, they’re saying all these people are being a bother and should go away. It’s gotten to the point where they started saying the frontier people’s accents sound weird and that they look poor and dirty. And all the evacuees don’t like hearing that, so you get more fights and arguments.”

And fights and arguments meant more people got injured, be it the civilians who started the fights, the evacuees being picked on, or just unrelated people who happened to be around.

And even if not for any of these reasons, the residents of the capital felt that their daily peace was being disturbed by these refugees.

“People feel like their family’s livelihood is in danger, so even here at the base, lots of people end up seeing the refugees—and honestly at this point, all the people from the territories and the frontier—as criminals and pests. I’ve heard some people say outright that the government should mobilize the army to drive these farmers and foreigners out to the frontier.”

It felt like the Federacy, and the world at large, were being irrevocably…warped into something else.

The army’s transport network being in a state of chaos due to disorderly evacuee traffic and the subsequent reduction in the front lines’ ability to fight; the drop in production; and the clashes between the capital and central territories’ citizens with the refugees.

“…This is what they were going for,” Yatrai grumbled bitterly.

There were a lot of question marks behind the Morpho bombardment. With the development of the Kampf Pfau, the Morpho’s original purpose for development—launching concentrated attacks on fortifications and enemy camps—became difficult to accomplish. This made the railway guns just oversize, expensive decorations that only took up space, but instead, the Legion relegated them for a much more sinister method of attack.

“The Legion made another vicious play. Using the Empire’s weakness against it.”

The Federacy and its predecessor, the Giadian Empire, were multiethnic countries. This meant its people had different races, different cultures, and spoke different tongues. On top of the disparity between the Empire’s ruling class and the people, there were countless other fractures in its society.

In addition to the citizens and the Vargus, there were city people and farmers, the center and the periphery, conquering races and subjugated ones. For many years, the Empire had been divided into many small groups. This was intentional on the nobility’s side, to keep the people from joining hands and rebelling.

The Empire becoming the Federacy gave everyone the title of “citizen,” which masked those divisions. But those divisions were only hidden, not gone, and now they were rearing their ugly head again. The people of the capital eyed the outdated, uneducated people of the frontier areas with disgust and scorn. They, in turn, were furious and suspicious of the capital’s people for living in comfort and luxury that was an entirely different world from the simple life in their hometowns.

And while that might have been a coincidence, the supply deficiency brought on by the front lines falling back coincided with the influx of evacuees—it was nightmarish timing. People sought reasons and causes for all the bad things that happened in their lives, and tying these people they had to welcome into their lives with those problems looked like clear and simple causality.

…Much like how terrible the timing of the Actaeon attacks was, but at least those concluded quietly with the girls’ deaths, and the military’s top brass were forced to hold back on disclosing the truth of what happened until the citizens calmed down somewhat.

Yatrai sighed in annoyance.

During Zelene’s questioning, they were able to confirm which members of the royal faction’s leaders were made into Shepherds. Much to his surprise, the prime minister and the generals under him weren’t integrated into the Legion. Moreover, despite there being multiple commander units, they weren’t members of the Imperial faction. Instead, they were only area commanders in that base.

So if nothing else, this attack wasn’t orchestrated by generals from the Imperial faction. And at the same time, a civilian or Eighty-Six Shepherd—most of which were child soldiers—could not have come up with such a plan.

At best, Eighty-Six Shepherds knew how to lead a single armored division, making it hard to imagine they would understand the intricacies of wide, military-scale supply lines. It was doubtful if they even had a proper grasp of lines of communication, to say nothing of the weakness of a large, multicultural, and fractured society.

So if the Legion knew this and fired the way they did intentionally…

“It must have been a soldier, and a high-ranking one from a nearby country…”

Yatrai was a child when the war began, meaning he didn’t know high-ranking commanders from his own country, to say nothing of another’s.

His black eyes glinted as he glared at the blue glow of the holo-screen.

“…Who is this?”

The Legion were clearly focusing their attacks on formations with many reservists, soldiers from minorities conquered from other lands, and Alba. Each time they broke through and routed the people, a veteran unit had to come in and take back the land they lost. This cycle repeated itself over and over, and gradually, the veterans’ feelings toward the reservists, minority people, and Alba their comrades died for went from sympathy to discontent.

Useless reservists. The conquered people will always be outsiders, when all is said and done. And, Republic scumbags, former Eighty-Six Legion are coming for your heads in revenge, and the Federacy has to get hounded for it.

Why is it always us?

The groups directly targeted by the Legion were the ones who took the most casualties. Concentrated attacks repeated themselves, they took great losses, rinse and repeat.

This didn’t happen in formations manned by veteran Federacy soldiers of different races. They alone were constantly exposed to those terrible attacks, dying, and with this, the new soldiers gradually began to build up resentment not just toward the Legion, but also toward the veterans of the Federacy army.

They must have been using them as bait, stationing them in places where they were most likely to die. The veterans didn’t want to die, so they put the others in the most dangerous spot instead. They conquered them and then treated them as second-rate citizens.

Why is it always us?

Nina’s aunt hadn’t given her permission to go outside for some time now. Whenever they did go out, she hid Nina with her body or under a coat, and she took care not to move to where it was loudest—where people were the most heated.

Nina already understood what she was doing and why—why she was trying to protect her.

“…Weißhaare.”

Someone uttered that word as they passed by them on the way to the market. The sheer enmity that person gave off made Nina shrink in fear. White hair. It was old Imperial slang mocking the Alba’s silver hair. Kids from other classes or upperclassmen would occasionally say that word at school, too. The teacher always scolded them for saying a bad word, but they never stopped. In fact, a bad-tempered teacher even called her that one time.

A weißhaare spoiled princess, too cowardly to stand and fight.

But Eugene went to the army and died there. He wasn’t a coward.

The streets were almost entirely full of what looked like evacuees from the territories, swinging their fists and shouting about something. They were short but well-built, their skin tanned and wrinkled. Their clothes looked antiquated to Nina, plain and poor.

They raised their voices and tried to get the attention of passing citizens, who regarded them with glances of annoyance and disdain. The evacuees were apparently citizens from the frontier territory right behind the second southern front. They were displeased that the reserve position being built behind the front line led to their towns and farmland being torn down.

“The army just needs to hang on and not fall back! They don’t have the nerve to protect us; they’re cowards!”

“These are our homes, our fields! Do you support this atrocity?!”

Before long, some of the passersby started responding to their calls. Mockingly.

“Isn’t that because you Vargus manbeasts couldn’t protect us? Actions and consequences.”

This made the evacuees’ expressions instantly contort. This reaction spurred more people to cry out in ridicule. They were part of the audience, hidden in the crowd, but they spoke proudly like they were talking on everyone’s behalf.

“Right, actions and consequences. You reap what you sow. This wouldn’t have happened if you did your jobs and protected the border. Stop acting like victims when you’re good-for-nothing. And why are you going on about your fields when cities next to the capital are getting bombarded? It’s all discarded land now anyway.”

“Who are you calling manbeasts?! Don’t compare us to animals!”

“And discarded land…?! You invaded us, taking away our ancestors’ names and crops and lands and rights, and now you’re calling it discarded land?! You invaders!”

In their anger, someone started mentioning a centuries-old grudge. This made someone else laugh outright. “That’s right, so kneel before your Imperial masters, you barbarian losers.”

“…Let’s go, Nina.”

Her aunt spurred her on, her expression stiff. She turned around and walked away from there as outright shouting finally erupted behind them.

Nina held on to her aunt’s hand, which was calloused from housework. Voices like these were all Nina heard in the capital nowadays. She was frightened, more so by that fact than the shouting itself.

With the interrogation about the Actaeon at an end, Primevére and her group were left in a detention center in Sankt Jeder. She assumed that investigation into the Actaeon’s biology was ongoing based on the documents the Federacy confiscated, and they were being kept in detention to keep them from running in case the results of that inspection required any further confirmation.

Sitting in her room, Primevére clenched her hands into fists. There was no radio or television in this room, but she could guess at the situation outside based on the attitude of the officer bringing them food and the snippets of conversation she heard from the hall. It wasn’t just the Alba who were being discriminated against; the Federacy’s people themselves were divided and growing incensed at one another. And everyone was looking for the right target to vent all those frustrations on.

So if, in this situation…

“The Republic gets branded as being at fault for the Actaeon…”

—She felt sick.

There was a market celebrating the Holy Birthday in front of Sankt Jeder. The girl was seated in the most crowded part of it, on a brick platform that a large fir tree was set on, watching the glittering lights pass by. Even at noon, the electric lights, sparkling star decorations, glass ornaments, and the people’s smiles shone bright.

She’d fled her new home and lived secretly in Sankt Jeder. The last time she was here, before she was taken in, she would have never imagined the atmosphere in this city could be so tense. Back then, Sankt Jeder looked peaceful, like paradise, a kind town. But once the thin veneer was off, it was no different than the lab in the Eighty-Sixth Sector.

But even so, this Holy Birthday market shone bright. Lots of people walked about, looking happy and joyful.

And so she couldn’t help but feel that it was unfortunate that they’d have to get caught up in her situation.

“…But I can’t do anything anymore… I can’t move.”

She felt so sick. Her field of vision was swimming, and her head was too hazy to fully compose a coherent thought, so she couldn’t move. All throughout her stomach and in her chest, the Dear cells had awakened and were reshaping her into a bomb, but she just couldn’t move.

And so…so she was here. At this festival brimming with people, all of who looked like they were enjoying themselves. Parents walked with children, friends walked hand in hand, lovers nestled together in bliss.

“There’s nothing I can do to change this, is there…?”

Her doing this here would no doubt be a very effective way of taking revenge on the Republic. She got up, hugging the big bag of nails she carried against her chest, without wearing her coat, and started walking. Her new big sister had bought her that coat after dragging her around town all day shopping to find one that looked good on her. She couldn’t bring herself to take it along for this and removed it before coming here.

The sight of her walking with unsteady steps without a coat in this cold weather drew attention. People pointed, some shrinking away from her after matching her face to the pictures of the suspects shown all over the news.

But it was too late now.

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t listen to her fellow friends from her hometown who’d implored her to join them and go home before time ran out, to go somewhere where they wouldn’t hurt anyone. She never even replied to their messages.

Kiki, who kept her smile up even in that hellish research laboratory. Karine, the responsible big sister of the group. Citri, who was as kind, gentle, and pretty as a fairy-tale princess.

She hated them.

She hated the fact that they could smile, carry themselves like big sisters, remain kind and pretty even in that hellish research laboratory. They could have hated and held grudges against the researchers, but they didn’t, and she hated that. She hated that the thought of revenge didn’t even occur to them, that their pure, selfless integrity ran so deep.

And because she hated it so much…

…her revenge would ruin even that pure, selfless integrity.

“I’m sorry, everyone.”