86 - Volume 4 - Chapter Pr

The Republic is the enemy. 

—VLADILENA MILIZÉ, MEMOIRS 

PROLOGUE 

MISSING IN ACTION 

—Rita. 

That was the name the boy—Henrietta Penrose’s childhood friend—would always call her. Annette didn’t remember when he started using that nickname for her. He always had, for as long as she could remember, just as she couldn’t recall a time before he was by her side. They were that close. 

He’d probably had trouble saying her name when they were just learning to speak, and he’d found the name Henrietta to be too hard to pronounce. Annette herself had trouble with his name, which was foreign to the Republic, and gave him the nickname Shin instead of using his full name, Shinei. 

He’d known her ever since they were children. He was a bright child who would often smile. His older brother would always spoil him, so he was something of a crybaby for his age. Looking back on it, Annette could see that his entire family had raised him with love and affection, which molded him into a kind, carefree child. 

He lived in the house next door, so he and Annette would play every day. Though they often had their spats, they always made up the very next day and went right back to playing. The two of them were close enough friends that they’d been vaguely confident things would stay this way even once they grew up. 

Then, on that fateful day eleven years ago, they were forever robbed of that friendship. 

Or so Annette had believed… 

As she exited the transport plane, a Giad military officer stood waiting to greet her. Annette squinted her silver eyes as she looked at him. A steel-blue uniform, contrasting with the Republic of San Magnolia’s stylish Prussian blue. The holster of the hefty automatic pistol at his waist blended in seamlessly with his outfit. He stood on the runway awash with spring sunlight, like a stalwart steel-blue shadow. 

The Federacy had faced the Legion’s onslaught head-on for the past eleven years, and this officer stood as silent evidence of that history. He had the well-built physique of a wild animal and wore a cold gaze beneath the brim of his army cap. But in truth, he was around the same age as Annette. A teenage officer who had received the higher education one would usually acquire before enlisting during the time of his service—a so-called special officer. 

While this wasn’t something the Republic, which considered its own citizens no better than livestock and cast them into the battlefield, would be in a position to criticize…the Federacy had no choice but to skirt the line of cruelty in order to maintain its front lines, as well. 

As Annette looked at him, the officer turned to face her with a practiced, perfect salute. 

“Major Henrietta Penrose, I presume?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’ve come to collect you.” 

His tone was as dispassionate as his gaze. It contained the absolute minimum amount of respect one had to pay to a ranking official of another country. His voice was devoid of warmth, something the oppressors of San Magnolia did not deserve. 

Unlike the Republic—a nation that eleven years ago had been occupied solely by Alba citizens—the Federacy was a multiracial nation. Searching his features, she thought she could identify the black hair of an Onyx and the bloodred eyes of a Pyrope. 

She found herself looking away from him. Those features were…oddly similar to those of her childhood friend. 

“I see. Thank you.” 

A middle-aged master sergeant walked up to her at a brisk pace, and she entrusted him with her luggage. She then regarded the officer with a glance. 

“Captain, you haven’t given me your name yet,” she said after confirming the rank on the insignia attached to his lapel. 

Military transport planes were different from passenger planes in that they were terribly noisy on the inside. The seats were all made of pipes, making them terribly hard and uncomfortable to sit on. Annette had had to bear these travel conditions for several hours, and the fatigue made her voice come out rougher than she might have intended. 

“My apologies.” 

The officer didn’t seem to mind, though. Nodding simply, he answered her question with the same indifferent composure as before. In a cold voice, he gave his name to the officer of the foreign military. 

“Shinei Nouzen, section commander of the Eighty-Sixth Strike Package and captain of the Spearhead squadron, at your service, Major Penrose.”