86 - Volume 2 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 

WILD BLUE YONDER 

Two hundred kilometers from the Republic’s eastern front’s first ward was the Federacy’s capital, Sankt Jeder, painted white with the freshly fallen winter snow. Shin stopped at the edge of the main street leading to the City Hall Square and looked up at the clock tower, which was hazy from the powdery snow. The snow was shoveled off the city’s flagstones in the mornings, and a large fir tree was set in the center of the market square, serving as a decoration for the Holy Birthday. 

Shin had never experienced snow like this before. Was it truly the same snow that had fallen on their corpses in some unknown corner of the battlefield, eventually melting away with the coming of spring? It felt odd, seeing it without the sounds of war in his ears, on a peaceful street corner, surrounded by people coming and going. 

His breath came out in puffs of white steam, just as it had on that cold day in the ruins of a church plaza. The coat he had received as a gift was warm. Unlike the clothes he’d worn that day. 

Shaking his head once, Shin continued his stride through the snowy street. 

When he entered the old Imperial Capital Library in City Hall Square, Shin brushed the snow from his shoulders and took off his coat. This place was always heated. It had been a month since he’d begun frequenting the place, and as he walked in, he exchanged greetings with the librarians who he had come to recognize, before going to browse through the bookshelves. 

The Imperial Capital Library was built as a five-story-tall atrium surrounded by annexes, and the dome covering it had a beautiful mother-of-pearl inlay, no doubt painstakingly crafted, in the shape of the summer constellations. 

Shin, who was currently living a life with no perception of the date, didn’t realize it was a weekday afternoon, which was why the place was fairly empty, giving it a peculiar, tranquil atmosphere. 

“…Ah.” 

He suddenly stopped in front of a bookshelf he rarely examined. The children’s bookshelf. He paused because one of the books on the lower shelves had a familiar illustration. He took the old picture book, which he couldn’t fully remember. What caught his eye was the cover. 

A headless, skeletal knight, brandishing a longsword. 

That’s Brother’s— 

Flipping through the book, he realized he had no memory of the story, either. He felt as if he somehow knew it, but the synopsis was so common he thought he might have imagined it. A hero of justice who would defeat the wicked and defend the innocent. But as he read through the book’s simple composition, he could hear his brother’s voice overlapping the words. 

He could almost see those two big hands flipping through the pages. His voice would gradually become lower and thicker. And every night, Shin would pester him, trying to get him to read it aloud to him again. 

His brother, who was now gone forever. 

—I’m sorry. 

Rei’s true final words came back to life, and Shin could once again see his retreating back, his visage the same as it was when he was still alive. 

Hearing the sound of soft footsteps near him, Shin jerked up, looking at the presence that stood next to him. It was a girl, roughly five or six years old. She wore a wool hat and earmuffs, and her silvery eyes were wide open. Realizing her eyes were locked on the picture book, he closed it and presented it to her with one hand. Perhaps being shy, the girl took it after a long moment of hesitation, then turned around and ran off somewhere. 

But the next moment, she came back, accompanied by a boy Shin’s age. He had silvery hair and a pair of silver eyes hidden behind his glasses. Seeing that, Shin’s expression hardened for a moment. 

An Alba. A Celena. 

He knew this wasn’t the eighty-five Sectors, and the person before him wasn’t a citizen of the Republic. He knew this, and yet. 

“Allow me to apologize. My little sister was being rude.” 

“…Oh. That’s fine—I wasn’t reading it.” 

The boy’s expression turned severe at Shin’s words. 

“No, it’s not fine. When someone does something for you or gives you something, you should say thank you. That’s something kids should learn from a young age.” 

The boy pushed his sister’s back, encouraging her. She mumbled something in a near inaudible tone and ran off again. 

“Hey, wait…! Geez.” 

The boy then fell silent after receiving a nasty glare from one of the librarians. The sight of a black-haired, green-eyed woman rebuking an Alba boy was one Shin couldn’t help but find peculiar. He really was in an entirely different world, after all. 

After a sigh, the boy lowered his head in apology. 

“Thanks. Sorry. You shouldn’t have to see me disciplining her.” 

He spoke with the same integrity he tried to teach his sister. Shin felt somewhat amused by looking at him. His simple honesty, coupled with his silver hair and eyes, reminded him of his last Handler, even though he’d never seen her face. 

“It’s all right. Being a big brother seems hard.” 

“I don’t know who she takes after, but she’s terribly shy around strangers.” 

The boy then tilted his head and slumped his shoulders. 

“Hmm, this might be rude to ask, but I always see you here at this hour. Don’t you go to school?” 

On paper, education up to sixth grade in the Federacy was compulsory. Any following education was optional and no longer free. However, this was just on paper, since this system had been established only nine years ago, with the rise of the Federacy. It was upheld in the capital and nearby cities, but other territories still didn’t have enough teachers or school facilities constructed. 

And of course, Shin, who wasn’t a born citizen of the Federacy but an Eighty-Six who grew up in the internment camps and came under the Federacy’s protection only two months ago, didn’t attend school, either. Though Ernst had told them to consider it once spring came around and they’d had some time to adjust. 

“What about you?” 

“Huh?” 

“If you see me so often here during school hours, that means you frequent the library as much as I do.” 

The boy gave a bitter, shameful smile. 

“Ah, yeah. I don’t go to school. Or more like, can’t go to school. Former nobles have…all sorts of things to be ashamed of.” 

After the revolution, the former nobles’ statuses were effectively divided into two. The higher nobles, who were involved in enterprises that served as the lifeblood of the nation, like large-scale agriculture and heavy industry, retained their positions as managers even after relinquishing their social status and tax privileges. That was because the Federacy couldn’t afford to cripple the industries that were directly connected to the nation’s war potential. It was still at war with the Legion and could not afford to lose even an ounce of martial strength. 

Likewise, many of the nobles’ children, who couldn’t inherit their families’ headships and served as officers in the Imperial army, retained their positions in the Federacy’s military. But on the other hand, all the other nobles were reduced to normal civilians. They never knew manual labor and had trouble even finding employment to begin with, as they were loathed by the middle class. The lower nobles, who didn’t even have enough assets to keep themselves fed, were poorer than even the common laborers by now. 

“I thought we might be in the same position… Sorry, it really was rude of me to assume.” 

Shin shook his head as the boy furrowed his brow. 

“I don’t mind. I’m not a native.” 

Shin, of course, meant he wasn’t a native of the Federacy, but he’d learned from several conversations already that for citizens of Sankt Jeder, there was nuance to that word that meant one was or wasn’t a native of the old Imperial Capital region. Explaining that he was an Eighty-Six was bothersome, and if he said he wasn’t a native, people would simply take it that he wasn’t from this region but from the territories—and not pry any deeper. 

Each of the different territories formerly under the control of the Empire had its own cultures, customs, and value systems. At times, even their language was different from the old Imperial Capital region. As Shin implicitly expressed that there wasn’t much to worry about, the boy seemed relieved, and at the same time, his eyes sparkled with curiosity. 

“Wow, you have Onyx and Pyrope blood, and you’re not from the capital? That’s unusual… Oh, there I go again. That was rude. Sorry.” 

The boy cracked an awkward smile as he scratched the back of his head. His silvery eyes laughed behind his glasses. 

“I’m Eugene Rantz. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

“—That concludes it, though. In the month since we took them in, they seem to have acclimated to life here fairly well.” 

Ernst had told the children placed under his protection “Take your time to see what this country has to offer and consider your futures after that” and allowed them to go about the city freely, but he couldn’t send them out into the Federacy’s unfamiliar streets unattended. 

First, he assigned them guides. And once they got used to the city a little, he had officers close to them in age keep an eye on them from afar, with their reports being summed up to him by his secretary. Hearing her report, Ernst spoke from the mountain of electronic documents, not lifting his eyes from the terminal on his desk. 

“I see. He spent yesterday reading every book on the military history shelf. The day before that, he was poring over philosophy books. Three days ago, he took a visit to a military cemetery, and today he was reading children’s picture books. I still have no clue what criteria he’s choosing his interests from, but Shin making a friend is an auspicious event. We should roast red rice tonight!” 

“Serving red rice when they have no idea what that means is a bad idea, much less roasting it. For the love of God, don’t.” 

“Will you even go back today, to begin with? Young Raiden showed up earlier with a change of clothes for you, delivered with Teresa’s heated complaints. What are you two having these children do?” 

His half-Orienta, half-Eisen secretary quipped at him with a disinterested tone, but Ernst ignored her and continued. 

“The change of clothes is meaningless. There’s a washing machine here, so I wear the same suit every day. Teresa probably just wanted to send her complaints. I’ll definitely be heading back today, so you can go home, too. It’s the Holy Birthday, after all!” 

“My, thank you.” 

“I should buy some presents on the way back, too. Do you think the Republic also has the habit of giving gifts on the night of the Holy Birthday?” 

“I think they do… But who’s to say if the children actually remember that?” 

“They’ll simply have to learn it anew… Now, then. What should I get them…?” 

Ernst smiled with genuine excitement, his eyes still not leaving the terminal. It was on short notice, so he probably couldn’t prepare anything too special for them, but still. 

It had been a month since they’d come to Sankt Jeder, and each of them had begun finding their way of appreciating the peace. Raiden started a part-time job as a mailman on a motorcycle, Anju began taking cooking classes, Theo was going around the city sketching, Kurena took to enjoying window shopping, and Shin was randomly going between libraries and museums. They had all begun to make friends, too. 

Ernst was honestly relieved. Surely they would all abandon the idea of enlisting in the military now. They could finally move past the persecution their homeland inflicted on them… They could put the warrior’s mentality to rest. 

They would no longer be Eighty-Six. 

“…I should make preparations for the futures they’ll pick come spring.” 

From outside the window, the sight of the northern capital’s winter could be seen as it waited for the light of spring to shine down on it. 

The snowfall that had started the previous night stopped around noon, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. A vast blue sky hung over the plaza’s white-gray flagstones. Halting his relaxed, leisurely stride, Theo looked up at the great azure expanse above him. The cherry blossom tree at the center of the plaza stood naked and bony, without a single petal, and the clear winter sky could be seen from between its black branches. It was the sight of eternity as it turned into a cracked, shattered form on the verge of collapse. 

Theo lowered his gaze, and his eyes settled on a street holo-screen projecting a parliament meeting. On the stage stood Ernst, in his usual mass-produced business suit and glasses. Seeing him make a speech always gave Theo an odd, dissonant feeling. He was a leader of the revolution, and a hero, and had served ten years as the Federacy’s temporary president. But to Theo, he was an odd man who would come back occasionally and pester them about his arbitrary curfew, argue with Frederica about what channel they should watch on the television, and make a fuss over silly disputes. 

“Just let the girl have her thirty minutes of cartoons” is what Shin and Raiden would always say when he would switch the channel from Frederica’s magical-girl show or an episode of some sort of superhero-squad series to a news program or a soccer broadcast. 

Theo was only half listening to the speech, but they were discussing something about the Federacy’s war situation. An analysis of each front’s state and their policy going forward. Ernst may not have been the one doing the analysis himself, but they did collect the information to do it from each front. It was a far cry from the Republic’s state, where Shin could send the same report for five years without anyone noticing… Except for that last Handler. 

Even the news Shin was watching—or at least half listening to, as his nose was in the books, as always—probably broadcasted a more or less accurate and truthful report of the goings-on of the battlefield. The number of casualties that day was broadcasted by the government every night, with even the lowest of privates being mentioned. And the citizens would bemoan the loss of soldiers they’d never known. That was an obvious thing to do in the Federacy, it seemed. And they talked about countries that had been their neighbors until ten years ago, countries Theo had never even heard of. 

But even as he thought that the Republic’s white pigs really were insane, there was a part of him that couldn’t sit still. Something told him he couldn’t stay put like this, that he mustn’t dawdle here. A burning impatience gnawed at his heart. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

We are, after all… 

Carrying his sketchbook under his armpit, Theo wasn’t surprised to see there weren’t many other artists out here when it was this cold. He walked around the pristine plaza, without a shred of garbage in sight, much less the debris and wreckage he was used to seeing. 

Sankt Jeder had also seen its share of combat during the revolution ten years ago. Some of the flagstones were newer than others; some of the girders for the bridges over the river streaming through the city were left charred black; a magnificent, historically important cathedral was missing its belfry—likely blown off by bombing—and was left as is. 

Vines crept over the cathedral’s stone walls, reminding Theo of ruins he’d found on the battlefield once, despite being in a populated city. He decided to sketch the place, and the nearby priest gave him a piece of candy for some reason. He then heard a pair of quiet footsteps approach him and turned around to see Anju. 

“There you are. You said something about going around the Republic Square today, so I figured…” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think there’d be something like this in front of the old Republic embassy, though… What’s up?” 

Anju was dressed in an elegant blouse, a light-colored coat, a frilly skirt, and lace-up boots. He still wasn’t used to seeing her in anything but her field uniform. That applied to everyone else, too, and even himself. He was always filled with the odd feeling that this didn’t suit them, that they were out of their skin. 

“I want you to help me out a bit. And by that, I mean help me carry grocery bags; I just don’t have enough hands for it.” 

“Ah, roger that… Will just the two of us be enough? Want me to call someone else?” 

Kurena, who didn’t have much in the way of physical strength, and Frederica, who was a child, weren’t prime candidates when it came to carrying things. 

“Raiden’s…at his part-time job. Shin should be free, though.” 

That said, they all had plenty of free time on their hands. They were bored, even. As he spoke, Theo reached up to the side of his head, intending to activate his Para-RAID ear cuff. 

“Activate.” 

But his fingers only floated through the air, instead of pressing on the ear cuff’s hard texture. 

“…” 

Oh, that’s right, Theo thought, falling silent. Anju suppressed a smile as she held out a cell phone, which prompted Theo to take out his own. 

“Well gee, this thing sure is convenient. You gotta make sure to always have it on you—you can’t connect to the other person if they’ve got it turned off—and you gotta manually input phone numbers to register them.” 

His expression and examples didn’t match his first sentence in the slightest, which made Anju chuckle. 

“Well, RAID Devices still had to be reset whenever we changed Handlers.” 

“Yeah, for the white pigs… That was annoying, too. They did whatever the hell they wanted and then complained about stupid shit every time they showed up.” 

The Republic had put the RAID Devices on them at its own convenience and had also attached the variable data registration ear cuffs on them in a way that meant they couldn’t remove them on their own. Since they were attached to them crudely and without the use of disinfectant, when the Federacy removed them, it left scars on their bodies. Theo didn’t mind it that much, but seeing how they’d marred Anju’s and Kurena’s beauty left him seething. 

True enough, though, the Handlers in charge of them…or rather, of Shin, would end up changing rather frequently, but that wasn’t particularly any fault of theirs. Their last Handler was a weakhearted little princess roughly their age, but that was on her for insisting on suffering through it and not quitting when she could. 

“The Federacy sure is weird for wanting those things, though. We’ve been using them forever but still have no idea how they work.” 

“That I get. It’s useful on the battlefield. The Eintagsfliege are a problem here, too. But caring about the Juggernaut, now, that’s a good one. What do they think they’ll get out of analyzing that walking coffin?” 

When they came under the Federacy’s defense, all the things they had on them were taken away. And for whatever odd reason, the Federacy decided to research the Para-RAID and the Juggernaut, so they were sent to some laboratory. All their other belongings didn’t have much sentimental value, so they let the Federacy dispose of them. 

“…Come to think of it, Shin asked to have his handgun back, but the Federacy turned that request down even though civilians can get approved to carry weapons.” 

Ernst did have it stored away, however. 

“It wasn’t exactly out of sentimental value, though. It was the gun he used to put the dying to rest. Shin wouldn’t allow anyone else to bear that burden.” 

He wouldn’t even let Raiden, his vice commander, who’d fought beside him the longest, do it. Theo sighed. 

“I guess he wouldn’t, and there’s no way around that… But man, would it kill Shin to live for himself a little more?” 

Theo thought their friend, who could hear the voices of wandering ghosts, was far too obsessed with the dead. Or perhaps with death itself. For instance, his fixation on the duty of putting the mortally wounded out of their misery. Or with his countless comrades, whom he swore to take with him to the very end. All those who fought and died beside him all the way from his first unit to the Spearhead squadron. And all those who were assimilated by the Legion and had their last regrets echoed by the Black Sheep. And most of all, his brother’s now-avenged…but long-dead missing head. 

Anju’s blue eyes stared at the ground, as if she were in deep thought. 

“Maybe there were some things he could only do because of that obsession, though.” 

“The hell does that mean?” 

“Fixating yourself on a goal can also mean that there’s something to keep you grounded. Maybe having the goal of taking out his brother is what kept Shin with us.” 

What if he’d been grounded by the countless whispers of the dead haunting the scar on his neck…or ironically enough, by the voice of the brother who’d inflicted that scar on him? 

“We, the Eighty-Six, were meant to die on that battlefield, so we can’t help but feel this way. And Shin especially had a part of him that thought of nothing but his brother. And now that he doesn’t have that anymore… I’m a little worried.” 

“…” 

That theory didn’t quite hit home for Theo, but Anju was always one to observe those around her carefully. Her theory may very well have been true. 

“What about you?” 

“Huh?” 

“We should have died back there on the battlefield, but we’re still alive. Have you…decided on your future, like he said?” 

Anju’s lips, the color of spring flowers, broke into a bitter smile. A stray thought lingering in the back of Theo’s mind floated to the forefront. Ah, she’s started wearing makeup. 

“You’re seriously asking me that? It should be obvious by now.” 

Theo’s lips parted slightly. 

It should be obvious by now… 

“Right.” 

“I thought a lot about what things would be like if Daiya was still with us, or if we had a little more time to consider our options. But then I realized it wouldn’t make much of a difference. If it’s a question of what we should do versus what we want to do, I think we—” 

“Yeah.” 

Theo nodded, as if already knowing what she would say. 

“I feel the same way. Heck, I think the rest of us do, too. It’s all we know, after all.” 

It’s all we know… 

As they realized they were on the same page, a cozy, satisfying silence fell between them for a long moment. Finally, Anju clapped her hands together. 

“But putting that aside.” 

“Oh, right. The bags.” 

He’d forgotten. He brought up Shin’s number on his cell phone and selected AUDIO CALL. An antiquated dial tone repeated in his ears… And after it droned on for a fairly, considerably, extremely long time, Theo frowned in annoyance. 

“—He’s not answering!” 

For a long time, Shin’s dreams were nothing more than cruel reproductions of the night his brother killed him. He couldn’t remember many dreams that didn’t revolve around that. And yet, he knew that this was a dream. 

“I know how selfish of a request this is.” 

Kaie smiled, standing in a place surrounded by white fog. A female comrade of his from the Spearhead squadron, who’d died on the battlefield of the first ward of the Republic’s eastern front. She had the black hair and eyes distinctive of the Orienta. She was dressed in a desert camouflage field uniform, and her hair was tied in a ponytail. 

Her small head, however, wasn’t in its rightful place. It was detached, as if it had been blown away in her final moments; Kaie cradled her head in her arms, her face smiling. 

“You reached your final destination. And you brought us all with you. So you should have the right to put us behind you. But…” 

There were so many comrades he couldn’t save, so this Kaie probably wasn’t the real Kaie but rather a representation of all of them. Those who’d had their corpses stolen by the Legion or been dragged away while they were still alive and then had their neural networks assimilated. He shuddered to think of his many friends who’d been reduced to the heretical Black Sheep, hiding among the white sheep of the Legion. 

“I can understand that, but it still hurts. Lingering like this hurts. I died, so I want to move on, Shin—our Reaper.” 

Kaie smiled as she called him by that alias. He had grown rather fond of it. Beneath her military boots were thick grassland too deep to walk in and a set of rails, divided in eight. Behind the silky gauze of the white fog, Shin could see the gray silhouettes of broken Juggernauts as well as a single Scavenger. 

They were standing on the Legion-controlled battlefield of two months ago. 

“Please save us.” 

The Black Sheep, who carried only a degraded copy of the human brain, had no personality of their own. Even the Shepherds didn’t have the cognitive ability of a living human being, and mutual understanding with them was impossible. 

So the girl before him wasn’t the real thing, nor was she an amalgamation of his friends… Maybe she was the symbol of his regrets. The things he’d left behind. Because at the time, the most he could do was bury his brother. 

“…I will.” 

“Shin.” 

Opening his eyes upon hearing his name, Shin picked himself up from the eight-person table he had fallen asleep at in the Imperial Capital Library’s reading room. Eugene was leaning his elbows—albeit not sitting—on the backrest of the chair opposite him, his silver eyes grinning at him from behind his glasses. His little sister was probably reading a picture book somewhere, but she wasn’t nearby at the moment. 

“I know it’s warm with the sun out, but if you fall asleep, the librarians might get angry with you. It really is sunny here, though. Perfect weather.” 

This annex’s reading room received natural lighting from a skylight. The sun’s weakened rays warmed up the thick, old frosted glass, and the soft light spread throughout the room in a lace pattern. In the summertime, the elm trees planted outside would obstruct the sunlight. In the afternoon, the sunlight would warm up the room, and other boys and girls their age, sitting at the other tables, were also dozing off, halfway through their reading or studying. 

“What, did you stay up late last night?” 

“No, that’s not it.” 

That hadn’t happened in years. Only when great exhaustion overtook him—probably a consequence of overusing his ability—would he fall into such a deep sleep that even having someone he’d never met stand right in front of him wouldn’t wake him up. Shin thought, belatedly, as if it was someone else’s problem, that he must have really let his guard down. 

He’d grown used to a life without the noises of the hangar and sounds of bombardment in the background. A life where he didn’t have to constantly watch the movements of the nearby Legion. But he could still hear their wails echoing from the battlefield far away from here. The voices of that army of mechanical ghosts who were multiplying rather than diminishing, plaguing the earth with their haunting wails. 

Eugene leaned forward, his silver eyes concealing an impish smile. 

“It’s almost time. You wanna go see them? It’s a little-known secret, but the hall here has an observation terrace on its top floor. Not a lot of people know you can go out there, so it’s a bit of a ways from here, but the view’s great.” 

“…View of what?” 

“The parade, of course. For the Holy Birthday. The western front’s 24th Armored Division should be coming back, so we’ll be able to see the new third-generation Vánagandrs.” 

“…” 

Eugene tilted his head quizzically at Shin’s sudden silence. 

“Oh. You’re not interested in Feldreß?” 

“That’s not it…” 

If anything, he was surprised the person he was speaking to was interested in the topic. Putting aside Shin’s unshakable dissonance at his Alba origins, Eugene’s thin physique and kind expression looked as detached as could be from the severity of the battlefield. His fingers were a bit rough from the calluses he probably got from housework, but they weren’t the kind that came from physical violence or handling weapons. 

“I was just surprised you were interested in it.” 

Eugene laughed bashfully at those words. 

“Yeah, I’m, uh, actually enlisting soon. Hopefully to the armored division, so I figured going to scope them out… I thought we might be the same in that regard, too.” 

Yesterday, Shin was at the military history shelf, and before that, he was leafing through the memoirs of renowned soldiers and war heroes. He was browsing through the same books Eugene was, so it was possible he was studying here instead of school… Maybe because he was planning to attend the same special officer academy. Eugene had developed an affinity to Shin because he thought they might be the same, so said the Alba boy with a smile. Apparently, he’d been looking for a chance to say something to Shin for a while now. 

“The capital might be peaceful, but our country’s at war. And who knows when the fighting might reach these streets. So I have to make sure that never happens… And besides, I want to show my sister the sea someday. So we have to end this war.” 

Kaie’s voice in the dream echoed in his mind again. 

Please save us. 

The battlefield he’d left behind. 

The battlefield he’d once fought on and chose to march through of his own will until the final moment. And despite making that wish, he wasn’t on that battlefield anymore. He’d almost forgotten what lay beyond the Gran Mur’s walls. A rotten Republic that turned its eyes away from reality and, through stagnation, decayed and lost all means to defend itself. 

And the way I am right now, standing here and refusing to move forward, is the same as hiding within those walls. 

“…Right.” 

The Legion’s wails never ceased. They still moaned as they prowled far-off battlefields. Shin turned his attention to the voice of the decaying, mangled corpse of the Republic. He couldn’t hear it— 

Maybe because she was still alive there. Still fighting. Trying to follow in their footsteps. 

“…Maybe I’ve rested for too long.” 

The words he muttered to himself were so faint they didn’t reach Eugene’s ears. 

“Oh, I got a text. It’s from Shin.” 

“Whaaat?! Why did he message you?! I tried calling him a million times!” 

“Yeah… I think it’s because you called him too much.” 

Kurena stopped halfway through her round of window shopping, pausing to look at the lively march on the other end of the street. As soon as she turned her attention to it, she stiffened at the sight of a massive silver-blue shadow that paraded through the street, cruising between the buildings. An overbearing 120 mm muzzle stuck out forward, with a long barrel and a large, clumsy fuselage. With each step of its eight legs, the tank’s massive weight shook the flagstones, and the sound of the energy pack powering its propulsion system growled into the air. 

Eight legs and a propulsion system… 

Realizing it wasn’t a Legion, Kurena released the breath she had been holding without realizing it. Her hand reflexively jumped to the tip of her shoulders, which was where the strap of her assault rifle would be if she were still in the ruined battlefields of the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

“…That nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

Calming down, she realized she’d seen this kind of Feldreß before on the news channel that Shin and Raiden had taken to watching. It was called a Vánagandr. It was the Federacy’s primary weapon and had a cannon with the same caliber as a Löwe’s, which it also matched in terms of armor. It was a far cry from the Republic’s Juggernaut, which, under normal circumstances, couldn’t even hope to rival a Grauwolf, much less a Löwe. 

It was probably a victory parade. As a lively marching tune played, the Vánagandr advanced, the sun shining off its shiny, new coat of paint, with the Federacy soldiers marching next to it in ceremonial uniforms. 

The gaze of an officer riding the Vánagandr’s turret fell to Kurena, and he waved at her. Once she’d recovered from her momentary surprise, she waved back. The young officer, probably a few years older than her, flashed a smile full of pride and gave her a joking salute before disappearing along with the rest of the parade down the street. 

This country was also at war with the Legion, and that Vánagandr should have been a weapon for fighting them, but somehow, it was a peaceful, awe-inspiring sight. The parade seemed bright and fun, but Kurena wasn’t quite used to places packed with people. Turning around, she resumed her trip. 

This peaceful lifestyle they had been granted was fun once she’d gotten used to it. They were free of the routine tasks they’d had to perform every day on the battlefield, and so at first, they’d slept the days away. But her friends each found their own ways of enjoying their new lives, each of them gaining new acquaintances and friends. Even Kurena had a few new friends whose names she had added to her mobile phone’s memory. 

They all decided they would spend their time like this. They would each explore this country and decide on their own future. And no matter what decisions each of them came to, the others would respect them. 

Kurena approached a shop that caught her attention, and she examined her reflection in the shop window. She was wearing a dress that she’d found in a magazine, and it had a cape with a fake-fur trim. She also wore a pair of boots with high heels, which she still wasn’t quite used to, but she was working on it. At first, she’d worn only the clothes Teresa and Ernst’s secretary would wear, along with clothes she’d seen other girls her age walking around in. But lately, she had started picking out clothes for herself. 

She tried a few poses she thought were cute in front of the window’s reflection, and the shopkeeper lady gave her a thumbs-up and a smile from inside the store. That made her happy, if a bit embarrassed. She bowed her head apologetically and walked off. 

Being able to choose your own clothes. To dress up as you’d like. To buy whatever you wanted and walk freely. To live without thinking you might die tomorrow or be troubled with the battle that awaited at the end of today. It was like a dream. 

…Yes. 

This was a dream. 

The cheering of the parade behind her died down. The silence left in the wake of the sonorous military band’s march stabbed into the blue sky, as if to remind her that beyond that endless azure sky was a darkness that didn’t allow the existence of man. 

She’d heard of this once before. Yes, back in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. It might have been Kujo. Contrary to his rough exterior, he was an expert in astrology. Or maybe it was the female captain of the first squad she was assigned to. Or maybe it was Shin, soon after she met him. Whoever it was, she remembered now. 

The blue of the sky was only a curtain that covered boundless darkness. 

The sky, the seas, the beautiful blue—they were all the outer layer of a world that meant only death for humans. 

…Maybe that was why paradise was beyond the heavens. 

Kurena stopped in her tracks and turned around. The march’s music echoed up to the sky. As if to inform those beyond the sky that they would soon be joining them. The crowd prayed silently, the ex–service members saluted, and all the while, the Vánagandr marched on, draped in black in mourning. The number emblazoned on its turret was the number of those who’d died or gone missing on the battlefield since last year’s parade. And each and every one of them had a name and life of their own. 

But an even larger number of soldiers were still fighting out on the front. 

This life was fun, but it was nothing more than a transient dream for Kurena and the others. 

No matter how sweet the dream, we all wake up eventually. 

“I’m back… Huh.” 

Raiden blinked, surprised to see the entrance hall’s lights switched off as he came back from his part-time job. Whenever he came home, Teresa had the front door and entrance hall lights switched on; she said that the light should always be on to welcome them home. 

Light spilled from the living room that was directly connected to the entrance hall, and he found Frederica there, sitting snugly on a large sofa, holding a stuffed bear in her arms. Shin had bought it for her a short while ago at a department store, when Frederica pestered him that she wanted to go shopping. Frederica wasn’t allowed to go outside alone. She didn’t attend school, either. 

“Welcome back.” 

“Ah, thanks… The others aren’t back yet? Where’s Teresa?” 

“She left on a shopping trip some time ago but has not returned. Perhaps something happened?” 

She gave a small, forlorn sigh. And at that moment, Raiden heard a loud gurgling noise echo through the room. He fixed his gaze on Frederica, who was most likely the cause of the noise, only to find her blushing red and hugging the bear ever more tightly…before eventually saying in a delicate voice: 

“Raiden… I’m hungry.” 

“…Huh…? Oh…” 

Checking the clock on the wall, Raiden did note it was usually the time they’d be having dinner. Raiden and the others might be used to eating at sporadic times because of their former life of battle and night raids, but it was hard on a child like Frederica. 

“Gimme a sec.” 

Raiden set down his bag and headed for the kitchen. 

Unlike the Republic, which had only synthetic food both in- and outside its walls, the Federacy had fields and farms that allowed for the circulation of real food. Raiden rummaged through the refrigerator, picking ingredients to make something simple, and then washed, cut, and mixed them in a frying pan. He figured he’d make something simple to stave off Frederica’s hunger until Teresa came back and prepared dinner. Frederica, meanwhile, gazed at him with sparkling eyes in the same way one might look at a wizard. 

“You’re proficient in the culinary arts?!” 

“Eh, enough to get by.” 

Living long enough on a battlefield where you had to do everything by yourself forced you to pick up certain skills whether you liked it or not… Well, that was the case for most people. Not to name any particular exceptions to that rule… 

“Next time this happens, if Shin’s the only one around, and you’re hungry, tell him to go buy you something. If you value your life, never let him cook for you.” 

Frederica’s expression turned oddly happy. 

“What, is Shin incapable of cooking?” 

Raiden suddenly remembered a time when he used to find joy in seeing adults that were bad at certain things. Raiden shrugged, remembering those faraway days of his childhood. 

“It’s not that he can’t. He’s just too rough.” 

He would season ingredients unevenly, not pick out eggshells that had fallen in, overcook the soup, and so on. His creations weren’t inedible…just nasty. And the worst part was that Shin didn’t seem to have any desire to improve his cooking. That led to Shin being barred from kitchen duties in virtually every squadron he had ever served in. 

However, for some reason, he was extremely good at handling a kitchen knife and had somehow gained a secret technique that kept him from tearing up when cutting onions. That special talent was a bit useless in the Federacy, given that food processors handled that particular duty. 

Until now, Raiden and the others hadn’t minded since he’d had combat and commanding to pour all his concentration into, which meant he hadn’t had the time of day to give to any other skill. But the fact that nothing had changed, even in their current life as civilians, meant he was nothing more than a rough, clumsy person here. 

“I see, I see. I suppose it stands to reason, considering he devoted his entire existence to eliminating his brother… Incidentally, what is it that you’re making, Raiden?” 

“……Have you never seen an egg before?” 

He was just about to crack an egg with one hand into a bowl. That last Handler of theirs was a sheltered princess in her own right, but even she probably knew what an egg was. Though he was dubious as to whether she knew how to crack one open. 

“Correct. Teresa insists that the kitchen is a maid’s sovereign territory and forbids my intrusion at every turn. So eggs are sold in oddly shaped cases, I see… Do they heat them up to harden them to such solidity?” 

“It’s not a case, kiddo—it’s a shell… Were you raised in a box?” 

“Well…” 

Frederica began speaking but broke off her sentence, falling silent. Raiden turned his eyes away. 

Well, if she can’t answer, that’s that. He already had his suspicions about her background. They probably all did. But their only answer was a “So what?” and they chose to not pry any deeper. 

“By the way, what were you—?” 

The living room’s door creaked slightly, and Shin entered the room without so much as a peep. 

“…Maybe Frederica should start helping out with the cooking.” 

Frederica stiffened in surprise, but Raiden looked back at him calmly. Living with him for four years had made him accustomed to Shin’s noiseless gait. 

“If you’re the one saying that, it means she’s hopeless. Welcome home… That’s a lot of baggage you got there.” 

When he’d gone out, he’d been dressed only to go out for a walk, but now he was carrying heavy grocery bags in his arms. Anju, Theo, and Teresa entered after him in succession, carrying paper bags and chilled packs, prompting Raiden to raise an eyebrow. 

“…What’s this all about?” 

“Teresa went shopping, but her car broke down at the store. Once she was done, she had trouble carrying all the bags, and I happened to be there.” 

“And Anju alone wasn’t enough help, so she looked for me, and I contacted Shin.” 

Theo lowered the chilled pack he was carrying and twisted his shoulders, as if in mild complaint. 

“Next time you’re doing this kind of shopping, just tell me or Shin ahead of time. We’ve got nothing to do. The least we could do is carry some bags.” 

“I would be a failure as a maid if I were to force children living in the house I’m serving to carry bags.” 

“You’re not serving us. You’re serving that weird old guy.” 

“It is all the same.” 

“No, it isn’t. He’s not our dad.” 

If Ernst were present, he would probably burst into tears and start whining. Lastly, Kurena entered the living room. 

“Ah.” 

She stood stock-still at the living room door. Maybe it was because everyone’s gaze had fixed on her, or maybe there was something she wanted to say once it was all five of them, and she didn’t expect the other four to be there. 

“Welcome back, Kurena.” 

“Ah, yeah. I’m back… Um.” 

She looked over at Anju, her golden, catlike eyes wavering anxiously. There was a spark of hardened resolve hidden in the depths of her eyes. 

Raiden gave a small sigh. 

Ah, so she’s made her mind up, too. 

A pair of bloodred eyes fixed on Kurena as she stood still, their usual cold calmness growing lax. 

“You ready?” 

Kurena nodded, his tone and words giving her the final push she needed. 

“Yeah. I think I’ve seen everything I needed to see.” 

Shin had probably decided from the beginning and had simply been waiting for the others to come to their own conclusions. But they would all likely end up coming to the same decision he made. And so she said it. A smile found its way to her lips as pride filled her heart. 

“Let’s go back to where we belong.” 

Having finally finished his work, Ernst returned to his estate. Hearing the children’s voices, he felt relieved to see they had gotten used to life in the Federacy. If there was any positive takeaway from them having been sent to the internment camps at the age when they should have entered primary school, it was that that was the age when normal households had already taught children things like basic economics and common sense. They had no trouble buying things in stores and behaving themselves in public places. 

Shin and Raiden were blessed to have had guardians in their youth, and considering the environment they’d lived in, they were fairly educated. Theo, Anju, and Kurena weren’t as lucky, but the fact that they could read that faulty weapon system’s manual and calculate ballistic trajectories meant they were, in a way, a cut above the common Federacy civilian. 

As the Empire, in its age of militaristic dictatorship, had monopolized higher education for the nobles, there were still many children who’d never gone to school or were incapable of writing their own names in the Federacy, especially in the territories. This was part of the reason why Ernst’s temporary post as president, which was set to last until the Federacy would be able to hold an official election, had lasted for ten years already. 

Ernst had enjoyed examining possible higher learning institutes and technical schools in between his office work. Shin loved studying, so he considered sending him to a high-class academy. Raiden was good with mechanical work, so a technical school would do well for him. And Theo… And Anju… And Kurena… 

He gave considerable thought to each of their individual personalities in order to come up with good life paths for them to take, and he enjoyed doing so. It was what he wanted to do—but couldn’t—with her child. They should go back to being normal children. Go to school. Laugh with their friends. Let them concern themselves with harmless things like aspirations, crushes, or where to hang out this weekend. 

They could have a do-over for the childhood they hadn’t been allowed to have, right here and now. And he had the power to make it happen for them. Was it nepotism? Yes, it certainly was. But his position should allow him these kinds of benefits, shouldn’t it? His granting these children who came under his wing a happy future would surely be excused. 

But there was just one single thing that bothered him. He’d given them all their own rooms and the kind of allowance an affluent home would usually give children their age. But their rooms never filled up with possessions. They would buy only what they absolutely needed and nothing more. These children had been raised to want nothing but their own well-being and the safety of their comrades. And Ernst thought that now would be a good time for them to learn the joy of wanting, gaining, and cherishing things… 

And because he thought so… 

…when Ernst returned to his estate for the first time in a while, he met the five children again and listened to their plans for the future. And all five wished to enlist in the military. When he heard that they wished to return to the battlefield they had finally escaped, Ernst dropped all the documents he had prepared to the floor. 

“Wh-why?!” 

The kids looked back at Ernst, who had yelled despite himself, with dubious expressions. He didn’t have the presence of mind to feel happy that the kids felt comfortable enough around him to make those kinds of expressions. 

“What do you mean, why?” 

“Didn’t we make it clear from the beginning? If you’re letting us choose freely, we’re going to enlist.” 

“But…” 

He knew that. He’d received the report from their monitoring officers, and the children had said as much when they’d come to this estate. But he’d thought they’d said that only because they didn’t know anything else. They didn’t know peace. They didn’t know harmony. 

Even though they now knew a life where they didn’t have the slur Eighty-Six pinned to them. Even though they could finally afford to think about the future…they still…knowingly…chose this? 

Raiden gave Ernst a pained smile, in spite of the fact that he had learned to smile more gently—more honestly—since coming here… 

“I’m sorry for suspecting you at first… It’s a nice place you’ve got here. So we ended up staying here a bit longer than we thought.” 

“We’ve rested enough. We need to start moving forward again.” 

“So we’re going back to where we belong.” 

To the battlefield. 

Ernst shook his head slowly. He couldn’t, for the life of him, see the word so connecting the wish to move forward with the act of returning to the battlefield. 

“But why…? Why would you willingly walk back into that hell…?” 

They’d fought so desperately to survive, and finally they’d escaped it— 

Shin suddenly fixed his gaze on Ernst, who was as confused and concerned as if it were his future they were deciding. Even after tasting salvation, their intent had not changed. It wasn’t even a choice they had to grapple with. This decision had come so terribly naturally to them, as if there had never been any other option. But since Ernst had been kind enough to give the time and opportunity to explore other avenues, they’d decided to try to reexamine things— 

At most, they’d learned that there were certain changes they could make to improve their quality of life, but they never had any intention of growing accustomed to this place. Nor did they ever intend to stay here. This one-month grace period they’d been granted was only a brief respite from their endless struggle against the Legion. They took the month to confirm what they already knew; this place of peace was not where they were meant to be. After being isolated from peace for far too long, it did not feel nostalgic to them. Only distant. 

But even if he did think that this peaceful life wasn’t a bad thing in and of itself, Shin’s heart remained unmoved by it. These words were the smallest kindness he could offer to the man who gave them the opportunity of a lifetime, who lamented their choice even though it had no bearing on him. 

“We were just lucky.” 

He had the ability to hear the Legion’s voices and know where they were. Their last Handler had helped them cross the Legion’s patrol line, in a manner distinctly unlike the Republic. And when he had finally lost his strength on a corner of the battlefield, his brother had loaned him aid. 

Luck was what had brought them to the Federacy, and their fallen comrades simply hadn’t been lucky enough to enjoy similar fortune. That, and nothing else, was the only thing that set Shin and his friends apart from them. 

“We just happened to be saved. And we wouldn’t be able to face those who passed away if we got comfortable here and stopped moving forward. We’re still alive…so our battle isn’t over yet.” 

They’d left the plates carrying the names of their dead comrades with Fido. The plates were meant to serve as both their last offering to him and their desire to leave proof that they’d reached their final destination. But they had no intention of leaving behind those they swore to carry to the very end. 

They could still remember every single one of them. They were still with them. And they promised to bring them all to what lay beyond the end of battle. 

“The Legion are still active, and if we don’t fight, this country won’t survive. We can’t turn a blind eye to that and pretend to be happy. What kind of life would we be living if we just waited idly by for the Legion to come snuff us out? We could never live like that.” 

If they could, it would mean they had become that which they loathed the most: the Republic of San Magnolia, the despicable white pigs. The fools who ran from the battlefield and sealed themselves in a shell of fake peace, foisting their war with the Legion onto the Eighty-Six, only to remain without a means to defend themselves in the end. The Republic, which practiced such flagrant disrespect for life that not only were its citizens unfit to be considered human, they were unfit to be considered living beings at all. 

And as they ran through the Legion’s territories, fully prepared to die on their Special Reconnaissance mission, they had seen the Legion’s tactics firsthand countless times. Shin could hear the sounds of the Legion even now. In this very moment, he was haunted by the wails of those mechanical ghosts that multiplied endlessly. 

The Republic never stood a chance. The Legion might very well consume all of humankind. Because they were painfully aware of that threat, Shin and the others couldn’t turn their eyes away from it any longer. 

Because they were the Eighty-Six. 

Even if they were on a battlefield, surrounded by countless foes, they would fight until their lives ran out. They took pride in combat. Found purpose in it. Against all odds, they fought with everything they had, even if the only weapons left at their disposal were their own flesh and blood. This resolve was all they had left after they were abandoned by their homeland and robbed of their families. 

“Even if our deaths are unavoidable, we have the right to choose how we go out. Fighting until the bitter end is the way of life we chose for ourselves. So please…don’t take that away from us.” 

Raiden, who had only listened until now, suddenly smirked, remembering the final words Shin left to that last Handler of theirs. 

“Besides…if she catches up to us after you hit her with that ‘We’re off’ line, it’d be so awkward you’d probably never be able to live it down.” 

Shin didn’t grace that playful remark with an answer. 

But Ernst only shook his head at those words. 

“That’s wrong. That’s, that’s so wrong…!” 

Ernst knew war well enough. He was once a commander for the Imperial army and later took part in the revolution as one of its leading key figures. He took many lives and left many to die, and he knew many people who bore scars similar to those of these children. Those who lamented the fact that they shamelessly survived while their brothers in arms died. He’d seen too many former soldiers racked with the sorrow and guilt that forbade them from feeling happiness while others passed away. 

But that wasn’t true. 

“You’re only here because you fought so hard to get here, so you can take pride in your accomplishments and accept this as the reward you’ve earned! Your fallen comrades would want this, too, if they were truly your friends… You shouldn’t need to feel obliged!” 

Obliged to have survived. 

Obliged to have gained peace—to have gained happiness. 

And unless they made that distinction, people would never escape their pasts, and they would live on, unable to feel happiness without the eternal regret that their joy was built on the sacrifice of others…! 

But the five’s expressions hadn’t changed in the slightest. If they did understand what he meant, they weren’t moved by it at all. And driven by an inexplicable unease, Ernst opened his mouth to continue but was stopped by Frederica, who had been holding her tongue until now. 

“Cease this, Ernst.” 

Taken aback in his most unguarded moment, Ernst lowered his gaze to Frederica, who looked back up at him with cold crimson eyes. 

“It is a kindness to prepare a comfortable roost for an injured bird… But to prevent it from taking flight once its wounds have healed, because you fear the world is too dangerous, means confining it to a cage. These birds have finally escaped their cage of persecution. Do you intend to lock them in a cage of pity next?” 

Pursing her pale lips for a moment, Frederica spoke again—almost spitting out those words—with a wounded gaze. It was an expression a caged animal might direct toward a human looking at it from the outside. 

“Surely you realize it would be no different from the Republic’s conduct.” 

Ernst was at a loss for words. 

“And for the record, these children are neither helpless nor incapable of understanding their position. Children eventually leave their parents behind. If you truly profess to be their father figure…respect their wishes and let them go.” 

Ernst stood quiet, silenced by the words of the young girl. And in response to those words, unbecoming of her age, Shin looked down at Frederica. 

“I suppose we should be thanking you, Your Majesty?” 

Snorting at his words, Frederica directed a fleeting gaze at him. 

“…You knew.” 

“Vaguely.” 

A conduct and speech unfit for her age. A girl under the care of the president, albeit a temporary one, who did not attend school and was forbidden from going outside alone. The way she was treated was as if they were trying to keep her existence secret. 

And to top it off: 

“There’s also something about the way you speak. I thought it sounded familiar and only remembered just a short while ago… You speak the same way my mother did.” 

That was what little he could remember of her. The memory of his parents’ faces and voices had been washed away by the flames of war and the ghosts’ incessant wailing. 

“Come to think of it, your parents were of Imperial blood, were they not…? If we trace back your origins, we may well find your relatives. But if you do not wish to meet them, we can drop the matter here.” 

As he directed a puzzled look at her, her deep-red eyes, so much like his own, gazed back at him with surprising seriousness. 

“You were abandoned by your motherland and robbed of your blood relatives. And I do realize that without a country to trace your history back to, or a race to draw your culture from, pride is the one way you have of maintaining your identity… But that way of life is much too flawed. Three things make a man: the homeland he was born into, the blood running through his veins, and the bonds he forms. If you have none of those and try to preserve your soul with naught but your pride, you will eventually lose your sense of self and crumble into nothing… Hear my words and commit them to heart.” 

“…” 

Those words felt oddly real to Shin and were surely not something he would have expected to hear from a girl not even ten years old. It was as if she was recounting the events of someone she had seen fall into ruin. As if this was an answer she had come to after a long, arduous struggle with a question. A sense of déjà vu nudged at his heart. Those bloodred eyes, so much like his own, looking up at him. They wavered for a moment before she closed them tightly and looked up at him again with surprising resolve. 

“Know my name, for it is Augusta Frederica Adel-Adler. The last empress of the great Empire of Giad, the very people who commanded the Legion to conquer the continent… I am to blame for the loss of your homes and families. Condemn me for it, if you must. I welcome it.” 

Raiden parted his lips to speak. 

“How old were you back then?” 

The Legion’s invasion started ten years ago. This meant Frederica, who was turning ten this year, was only a baby back then. And they did hear that for its final two hundred years, the Imperial royal family was reduced to puppets under the control of the high nobility, who ran the dictatorship. 

“The Republic pigs were the ones who took everything away from us. We wouldn’t mistake them for anyone else… Don’t underestimate us.” 

“Forgive me.” 

The girl hung her head in shame. But after shivering once, she raised her head again. 

“In acknowledgment of that pride of yours, I have a request to make of you, Eighty-Six… If you are to return to the battlefield, take me with you and aid me in vanquishing the ghost of my knight, who roams the battlefront still.” 

There was no need for Frederica to explain any further. Not to them, the Eighty-Six, who couldn’t afford the luxury of burying their dead comrades and, at times, even saw their corpses being dragged away. 

“The Legion took him.” 

Frederica gave a small nod. 

“He was the Legion that attacked you shortly before you reached the Federacy. He bombarded you in the middle of battle… You referred to it as a Shepherd, I believe?” 

“How can you tell that’s him?” 

Shin was able to tell one Legion from another because of his ability. But there was no way for the Federacy, which didn’t have the Sensory Resonance technology, to single out a specific Legion unit. Nor was there any way a girl living in the capital could tell that a unit she had never even seen, hiding in the battlefield, was her knight. 

But Frederica replied to his question with a pained expression. 

“The ability passed down by my heritage allows me to peer into the past and present of those I know… Forgive me. The wound your brother inflicted on you…must have been painful.” 

…Your neck… What happened…? 

Frederica had probably seen everything back then. His past, when his brother nearly killed him. And the moment when he shot down the Dinosauria possessed by his brother’s ghost. And the moment he swore he would do it at all costs, when he was the same age as her… 

“I can do naught but see. I lack the strength to save my knight, who calls to me from the battlefield. So please, I ask for your help. Just as you saved your brother… Please save my knight.” 

Shin finally understood the déjà vu Frederica made him feel. She reminded him of himself at the moment he decided to save his brother, who had died in a corner of the battlefield, when he was just her age. 

“—I will.” 

Ernst sighed heavily. 

“…Fine. I’ll arrange for Frederica to be enrolled in your squadron as a Mascot… But I have only one condition I insist on.” 

Six apathetic gazes fixed on Ernst, dissatisfied with him apparently making things harder for them. 

“You will enlist as officers. To be specific, the Federacy has a special officer academy, so you will enlist through there. Otherwise, I won’t allow it.” 

It was necessary to finish one’s secondary education to join the academy, and some in the group hadn’t, but it shouldn’t be a problem. The Federacy’s war situation wasn’t good enough to pay much heed to these kinds of details. 

Kurena, however, narrowed her eyes dubiously. 

“Huh? What’s the point of that? It doesn’t matter how we enlist or what rank we are.” 

“Regardless. I am your guardian, and you are under my responsibility. Your parents surely would have wanted this for you, and I can’t act against that.” 

“You don’t know that—” 

“I do… I was a father once, too.” 

He, too, was once the kind of person who wished for the joy of his children from the bottom of his heart. 

“Former officers have a wider range of options compared to former soldiers. I want you to have as many paths open to you as possible once this war ends.” 

Once this war ends. 

Those words left the children with expressions of surprise. The war with the Legion had raged on for as long as they could remember, and their lives were dominated by its madness. Their expressions told him it was a prospect they had never once considered. 

Ernst thought those words were probably cruel to them. For five years…five long years they had fought. And perhaps even before that, when they learned their families, who went off to fight, would never return. They had hardened their resolves ever since then. They waited for their parents, who wouldn’t return, and watched as others died in the war, not knowing whether tomorrow held the same fate for them. And even if it didn’t come the next day, there was no escaping fate— 

They would surely die. 

If nothing else, they chose to live and die as human beings. And he wished for these children who fought fate, armed with nothing but that resolve, to survive. He hoped they would live long, fulfilling lives without fear of a predestined death. He prayed that these children—who could only live in the moment—would carry out a way of life that was opposite that. 

And they probably didn’t realize just how cruel of a wish that was. 

“This war will surely end one day, and if you intend to see it through to the end…you would do well to consider what you’ll do when it does.”