86 - Volume 5 - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 

CITADEL OF THE SWANS 

The United Kingdom’s southern front’s Revich Observation Base. The very picture of an impregnable fortress. Built atop rocky mountains, it was surrounded on all sides by precipitous cliffs with elevations ranging from a hundred meters at the lowest to three hundred meters at the highest, with diamond-shaped peaks to the north and south. The characteristically snow-white rock surface was now transparent and sharp, with the snow and sleet covering the incline making it thicker, and near the peak of the rock walls were palisades made of layers of reinforced concrete and armored boards. Another hundred meters away from the northern peak was another large mountain, which served as the fulcrum of a thick, reinforced canopy dome carved out of the rock face covering the peak, like a swan spreading its wings. 

The only gate into the base and the road leading up to it was on an incline to the northwest, built over a winding, meandering steep slope filled with twists and turns. Overlooking the ascending road in the shape of an animal’s entrails were the multiple menacing muzzles of gun turrets. 

“It was originally one of our border fortresses, but right now we’re using it as an impact-observation position.” 

There were holes dotting the canopy covering the summit, which stood like a pair of decaying wings. Trailing the pillars of sunlight that shone down during twilight on snowy days, Vika led Lena and her group. It was a wondrous sight, formed by the glaciers’ whittling down the mountains. 

Following in his footsteps, Lena looked around the surface sector of the citadel base. This fortress would serve as the Strike Package’s base for the operation in the Dragon Corpse mountain range. As it had originally been a fortress, barrier walls separated its interior into smaller sectors. A spiral staircase running counterclockwise led up to the castle keep built against the northern mountain. The castle keeps, which served as observation towers nowadays, were partially built into the mountain’s interior, giving a panoramic view of the battlefield surrounding the fortress. 

At the end of the gentle slope and currently out of sight were the United Kingdom military’s artillery formation to the north and the contested zones to the south. To the east and west were the United Kingdom’s armored encampments. The country’s final shield, the northern mountain range, had been reduced to a Legion haunt by now. 

In addition to the canopy blocking out the sunlight, the thick, high partition walls separating the base into sectors gave the surface sector a dark, suffocating feel. Shin squinted as he looked around, perhaps wondering how this place would fare should battle break out here. 

“Impact observation?” 

“This base is on the highest spot around here. Like all old bases, it isn’t equipped to launch air strikes, but thankfully the Legion don’t employ aerial combat, meaning even this old base is still usable depending on the situation.” 

While the Legion employed antiair forces, they didn’t have an air force of their own. Legion capable of flight weren’t loaded with weapons and, based on past precedents, didn’t use long-distance missiles, either. That seemed to be another restriction placed on them. So the United Kingdom took advantage of this weakness. 

Snow gently flitted down from what should have been a late spring’s sky. 

They climbed the stairway leading up to the observation tower’s third floor, which, for some reason, was a narrow spiral staircase, and after crossing three blast hatches to the underground residential sector, they were greeted by a shrill voice. 

“Welcome back, Your Highness.” 

“Yes, hello, Ludmila.” 

A tall girl with almost unusually vibrant, flame-like red hair greeted Vika. She was followed by a group of girls who, like her, were clad in dark-red uniforms. The United Kingdom’s uniforms were collared violet-and-black outfits. The dark-crimson uniforms, on the other hand, were exclusively worn by the Sirins. 

In other words, all the girls in attendance were not human. Their heads were adorned with hair of various shades of blue, green, and pink, with a degree of glossy transparency that no amount of dye could produce. Violet-colored quasi-nerve crystals, which were in charge of Para-RAID functionality and thought suppression, were embedded deep in their foreheads. These crystals were connected to the very cores of their artificial brains. 

Lena blinked as she looked around. Vika’s ingenuity truly did border on the supernatural, since it could produce girls that looked indistinguishable from human beings. But did that power truly come without any costs? The thought concerned her. But setting that aside… 

“They’re…all women.” 

“Making them men would just feel disgusting.” 

Even Vika noticed the cold gaze Lena directed his way. 

“I’m joking, of course. At least, half joking… When we first revealed them, the front lines were still occupied primarily by men, so we made them female as a means to differentiate them. At this point, the situation doesn’t allow us to be picky, and since we have women and girls serving as soldiers as well, having the Sirin’s hair colors be drastically different from the average human’s ended up being a useful idea in hindsight.” 

Was it really necessary to have them look human in the first place …? 

But as that thought crossed Lena’s mind, she was overcome with shame. Just because they were mechanical, because their “human brains” amounted to nothing more than replicas, she’d treated something with a personality of its own—even if only an artificial one—like a machine. 

She also likely had trouble coming to grips with the necessity that they resemble humans, who were harder to manage and worse at attitude control. Lena imagined what it would be like if she were to wake up one day and find she had become a huge, disgusting insect. Her mental state would probably escalate far beyond simple confusion and despair. Having six legs, wings on her back, compound eyes, and feelers for sensory organs. It would be a sensation that was entirely unlike being human, and the human mind wouldn’t be able to endure the shock for long before going completely mad. 

…Rei had likely been the same. That young man who had so loved his little brother but had reunited with him after becoming a Legion and tried to take his life. He may well have felt the same thing. The instincts of his Dinosauria body—of a Legion that was far too different from a human being—had likely tormented him. To have his desire to see his younger brother again twisted into murderous intent… 

She wanted to ask Vika for his opinion on the matter, but it wasn’t something she could bring up in front of Shin. Even if she were to omit certain names, Shin was clever and would eventually realize what she was talking about… And even if he wouldn’t, she felt as if she shouldn’t speak of it. 

Just as she peeked in his direction, Shin began talking. 

“…Are the only things distinguishing them from humans their uniforms, hair colors, and the quasi-nerve crystals on their foreheads?” 

“If you mean in terms of aid on the battlefield, the type of unit they pilot is fundamentally different, so that’s another source of distinction. Worse, anyone who would try to treat their wounds would realize soon enough. They’re almost entirely mechanical, and heavy enough for one to tell. The master data for their brain structures is stored in the production plant, and their combat records are regularly being backed up, so even if they’re abandoned on the battlefield, it’s fine… Also…” 

Vika smirked arrogantly. 

“…I wouldn’t underestimate them if I was you, Reaper. These girls were made for battle. They won’t easily lose to humans in that setting.” 

“—Oh, Shin. Raiden and Frederica, too. You were transported today. Saying ‘welcome back’ sounds…a little off, but still, it’s been a while.” 

Theo waved at them from where he sat at the corner of one of the long tables filling the room, and Anju and Kurena, who were sitting opposite him, turned around. They were in the Revich Citadel Base’s third cafeteria, which was currently full of people, some clad in the Federacy’s steel-blue uniforms and others in the United Kingdom’s violet and black. 

The citadel base’s functions were all concentrated in the subterranean level built into the mountain’s bedrock, and its multiple cafeterias were all set up in the underground residential sector. The well-lit ceiling was very high, but the lack of windows made the rectangular space feel oppressive. An azure sky was artistically depicted across the ceiling’s surface, and the walls were painted with fields of sunflowers the artist so clearly longed for. The whole thing reminded Shin of a prison. 

After each of them loaded their trays with food, Shin, Raiden, and Frederica sat down, and Kurena tilted her head inquisitively. 

“I heard Colonel Wenzel and, um, Annette, was it…? The technical major chick. Anyway, I heard those two are staying behind in the capital, but what about Lena?” 

“She’s eating with the United Kingdom’s commanding officers and staff officers.” 

“She is a commanding officer, after all. She’s gotta play the role when it comes to social gatherings and stuff.” 

“Oh yeah… Looking back, it was like that when she’d just come to the Federacy.” 

As she spoke, Anju reached for several small jars in the center of the table, which contained jam, honey, and other such condiments to smear on bread. She shrugged and recommended the berry jam. 

It seemed it was true that the United Kingdom was at the end of its rope. While it wasn’t as bad as the Eighty-Sixth Sector, more than half the food on their trays was the bland-tasting synthetic food from the production plants. If their means of food production were devastated…then indeed, they wouldn’t survive the coming winter. 

As Shin silently ate his meat seasoned with sour cream and his mashed potatoes, he could hear voices from the other tables despite not really trying to listen to them. The forces of this base were, putting the Strike Package’s Processors aside, mostly Sirins, but it wasn’t entirely unmanned. The Sirin’s Handlers were there, of course, as were the infantry who served as the base’s defense forces, the maintenance crew, announcement teams, and a gunner squad in charge of operating the base’s fixed artillery cannons. 

As per the United Kingdom’s law that stated the Viola were the only ones who faced forced conscription, the majority of the soldiers had violet eyes. As Raiden regarded them, he furrowed his brow. 

“In the capital, they said the only difference between civilians and serfs was their duties, but…it looks like that ain’t the case, once you get to the bottom of things.” 

While there was no difference in the menus they were being offered, the Violas didn’t sit at the same tables as people of different colors and ethnic groups. The serf soldiers’ rank insignia indicated they were only normal recruits and noncommissioned officers, and even among fellow civilians, there was a difference in rank and visible antagonism between the Iola and the Taaffe. 

Viola soldiers would look and speak to others with noticeable coldness. “Not only serfs but now foreign soldiers are stepping onto our battlefields. Deplorable. Our brave fatherland is shamed.” So they said, despite the foreign officers being of noble birth in the Republic and the Federacy. 

Theo turned his face away from them but stole apathetic glances at them out of the corner of his eye. 

“Unlike the Republic, all the classy races are the ones that enlist… It’s kinda weird.” 

“…? ’Tis the same in the Federacy, is it not? In Giad, the nobles fight just the same. Most of the current officers are former nobles, no?” 

In ancient times, military service had gone hand in hand with the right to vote. Only those who fought had the right to make political decisions. Only those who fought could stand above the workers of the land. During that period, military service was seen not as a duty but as a privilege of sorts. 

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not what I was trying to say… It’s like, in the Federacy you have the right to choose, but in the United Kingdom, it’s like in the Republic. The color you were born decides your position in society and your duties… But those positions are reversed here. It’s weird.” 

“………” 

Maybe that’s why, Shin suddenly thought. The color and ethnic group you’re born into cement your place in the world—the duties you have to fulfill are decided the moment you’re born. It’s this kind of country that would come up with the idea of repurposing corpses for battle and would approve of using mechanical dolls meant for war. The civilians are the ones who fight, after all, and so their remains are also offered up for the war effort. 

Just then, a pink-haired girl who looked to be in her early teens approached the United Kingdom’s soldiers’ table. She reported something, her face expressionless in a way that didn’t quite match her youthful features. Not returning the smile of the Handler who spoke to her, she turned around and walked off… 

Sirins didn’t eat. So as not to needlessly waste energy packs, they were typically stored in a unique hangar except for when they were out on operations or training. 

“…You hear about the Sirins?” 

“Yeah, pretty much. Oh, be careful, though. Their Handlers don’t like hearing people talk about them like they’re objects. They kind of cherish them like they’re their lovers or little sisters or something.” 

“I guess Handlers really treasure their drones in this country, huh.” 

Kurena spat those words out with disgust… Shin couldn’t blame her. Even in a despotic monarchy that didn’t place value on equality or freedom, Handlers treated those mechanical girls like human beings. Meanwhile, the Republic, which had equality and freedom etched upon its very flag, not only treated the Eighty-Six as inhuman but couldn’t even be bothered to lead them. 

This was one brand of irony only they, the Eighty-Six, could understand. 

Not even Lena could. 

Human beings had a way of treating other people like objects or animals while, at the same time, cherishing objects and livestock as if they were people. Not even she could understand that all-too-ironic, fundamentally human cruelty. 

When Vika came out, he saw Lena and drooped his shoulders. 

“It’s almost time for lights-out… Visiting a man’s room this late at night leaves you a bit too vulnerable, Milizé. You should have Nouzen at your side when you’re out and about like this.” 

“I have something to ask you… Something I don’t want others, specifically Captain Nouzen, to hear about. Could we perhaps speak in private?” 

This was why she’d chosen to come now, after Shin had retired to his lodging. Ignoring her, Vika headed to his own room. It seemed he wore glasses when writing and reading. He spoke as he removed his rather simply designed spectacles. 

“Lerche, call anyone over, so long as it isn’t Nouzen… Yes, Iida will do. Call her over. Oh, and you there, make sure the door doesn’t close until Lerche comes back.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“By your will, Your Highness.” 

“Vika…!” 

Still consciously ignoring Lena’s protests, Vika had a passing soldier hold the door as Lerche hurried off. After quite a while, Shiden showed up, after apparently having taken a hurried shower, accompanied by Lerche. Glancing at her, Vika made a dubious face. 

“………Sorry. I didn’t intend to interrupt… Or so I should say, but what were you doing?” 

Despite being in the presence of a prince, Shiden turned her face away in utter displeasure. 

“What I do in my free time’s none of your business… Shit, you’re not even listening, are you?” 

“No, I’m not. Act as Milizé’s guard dog for a bit. You may be a woman, but you’re stronger than I am, if nothing else.” 

“Well, listen to you, prince. A fistfight is one thing, but where’d those calluses on your hands come from?” 

“Hunting is a popular pastime in this country.” 

“Whoa, scary, scary. Guess I better mind my p’s and q’s so you don’t end up treating me like wild game, huh?” 

Shiden raised both hands in a joking manner and, as requested, plunked down on a five-person sofa like a lazy hound. In contrast, Lena sat down politely, and Vika sat opposite them. They were separated by a low table. Lerche set white porcelain teacups and a tray inlaid with mother-of-pearl and loaded with sweets on the table before moving to the back of the room. Then Vika spoke. 

“Well? If this is something you don’t want Nouzen to hear, it’s about that, right…? Why me, then? I’m not knowledgeable about that.” 

“No, you’re probably…the most knowledgeable out of everyone I know when it comes to this topic.” 

Something that was lost to the Republic and hidden behind a thick wall of military confidentiality in the Federacy. 

“Extrasensory abilities.” 

Vika’s expression suddenly turned blank. 

“Captain Nouzen’s ability to hear the voices of the Legion. Aide Rosenfort’s ability to see the past and present of her acquaintances. These abilities offer great tactical advantages… But don’t they harm those who possess them?” 

That included Vika, the Idinarohks’ Esper. As such, she wasn’t sure whether asking him was a good idea. 

“Oh… So that’s what you wanted to know. I can see why those without extrasensory powers might think so.” 

Vika crossed his legs, ever aloof. 

“As a principle, the answer to your question is no. Supernatural abilities have always been necessary for leaders to guide the masses. This has been true since time immemorial—since the era when those of noble blood were truly kings. For an Esper, their extrasensory ability is as natural as their other five senses. Does a living being capable of sight damage its body simply by seeing? The same idea applies here. There is no price to pay, so to speak.” 

“But what about cases like Captain Nouzen, where his ability changed from what it could initially do?” 

“Is that what happened? Well, I see. I did think it was an odd way for the Maika bloodline’s ability to manifest.” 

Lena directed a puzzled expression at him, so Vika explained that was Shin’s mother’s clan. Apparently, it was included in the personnel file Vika had received. 

“Such an example is rare, indeed… But if he sleeps for too long at times, it’s likely because he’s subconsciously stabilizing his balance of strain and rest. If he said he’s feeling unwell, it would be another story, but I don’t think there’s much cause for worry right now.” 

“That…might be true, but…” 

Vika tilted his head slightly, like a large snake eyeing some unfamiliar small animal. Without a trace of warmth or emotion. 

“Let me ask a question, then. If I were to tell you it does have an adverse effect on him, what would you do?” 

Lena blinked, seemingly taken by surprise. 

“Huh?” 

“To begin with, if you’re asking about that, why didn’t you bring Nouzen with you? If you think it might have a negative influence on him, it’s all the more reason for him to be present for this conversation.” 

“…Yes, but…” 

He was one of the Eighty-Six—his raison d’être was to never flee in the face of death. 

“…Captain Nouzen would likely…still refuse to leave the battlefield.” 

Vika blinked once, over a long moment. 

“Are you implying…that he’s a pitiful Eighty-Six who’s been irreparably broken by war and rendered incapable of proper judgment? And you, a normal, good-natured human being, have the right to make that judgment call for him?” 

Lena raised her face in a stiff gesture. She’d likely looked up at him with such a pale, hard expression. Vika’s lips twisted with a giggle, but something in his violet eyes wasn’t jovial in the slightest. 

“Truly, you are arrogant. Like the goddess of white snow herself.” 

The snow goddess that enveloped the United Kingdom for half of every year. A beautiful, merciless, arrogant goddess who never spared an idle thought for the concerns of people… 

“Yes, you really are unblemished, virginal snow incarnate. But does that give you the right to claim any other color is filth? Sure enough, Nouzen, much like that guard dog over there and the Eighty-Six as a whole, is critically lacking in a way.” 

As Lena reflexively looked her way, Shiden sipped her tea with great apathy. Lena somehow knew that even though she’d just been called lesser, she hadn’t been fazed in the slightest. 

“That’s… I mean, yes, but…” 

The sudden surge of emotion that welled up made Lena’s hands, which rested on her lap, clench into fists. It felt as if something had squeezed her heart, and she felt dizzy. As if she was being gagged with a sticky lump of emotion that was making it impossible to breathe. 

She finally realized why she’d asked Vika about something like this. 

“I feel like if we were to leave Captain Nouzen—leave Shin—alone, he’d grind himself into nothing…” 

And that terrified her. 

“When the Sheepdogs were introduced, he slept for days on end. And he’d always say ‘I’ll get used to it soon.’ And sure enough, the physician gave him the okay to return to service. But if the strain becomes any greater…” 

Only Shin can truly hear the voices of the dead. I can’t help him shoulder his burden. I can’t share his pain. So if the strain gets any worse, this time he might really crumble into dust, without anyone noticing. And that…terrifies me. It makes me anxious. I want to do something before it comes to that. 

“…Even so…” 

Vika’s voice was quiet. 

“Worrying over this all on your own won’t help anyone. If it bothers you, you should try speaking to him about it. And if you’re anxious about that…bring him with you next time you come to me. I’ll help however I can.” 

“…Yes.” 

Vika then leaned his back against the sofa he was sitting on and cocked his head. 

“But do you really have the leisure to be worried about people other than yourself? What with your motherland and its love of white, despite its flag being as multicolored as it is.” 

“…So you know.” 

“Of course I know. Do you have any idea how many soldiers I had to pacify to have your presence here accepted…? The Republic may be unrelated to the Legion’s development, but it is the most hated, loathed country in this current state of affairs. There isn’t a country out there that doesn’t see the Republic as a devilish killer of kin, and that’s a mark of Cain you will carry with you no matter where you take your battles. The stigma of a slothful country that, despite having been given a chance to atone through service to the Strike Package, sent only a mere handful of officers… I truly don’t think you’re in a position to worry for someone else’s well-being.” 

“………” 

“With regards to the RAID Device, I’ve looked over the research materials Henrietta Penrose provided us. Including the results of the human experimentation done on the Eighty-Six… If the strain becomes too great, it can damage the user’s brain and influence their mind. And even knowing this, don’t you think Resonating with a brigade-size force is a bit too much?” 

“It’s not quite a brigade-size force. I’m only Resonating with the squad captains.” 

“Still, that’s quite a few people at once. Since they only know how to fight in small groups, the Strike Package is divided into an unusual arrangement of squadrons. In the United Kingdom, we don’t let anyone Resonate with that many people during operations. I doubt the Federacy allows it, much less the Republic.” 

He then said that he was an exception, a cold gaze in his Imperial violet eyes—the mark of the genius pedigree that had been passed down for a millennium. The violet eyes of the Idinarohk line, members of which were capable of offhandedly producing inventions that revolutionized the world. 

“The Para-RAID is a technology that reproduces an extrasensory power in those who lack it. If I use the example I brought up earlier, it’s like a device that forcibly gives humans the power to see ultraviolet rays. If anything was to have adverse effects on its user, it would be the Para-RAID.” 

“That’s… But still, I’m a commander. So I don’t have a choice…” 

She had to use it if she was to fight alongside the Eighty-Six. 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” 

Vika gave a grand, resigned sigh. 

“You freely give your grace to others like a saint, even as you’re tormented by the possibility of it being needless concern. But when it comes to yourself, you’re so dismissive. Truly, you’re beyond saving… Lerche.” 

“As you command. Yet…even as you say that, your kindness knows no bounds, Your Highness.” 

“Shut up and stay out of this, you seven-year-old.” 

Chuckling all the while, Lerche passed through a door deeper in the room—which appeared to lead to a bedroom—and came back with something in her hands. Upon receiving it, Vika tossed it at Lena, who couldn’t catch it in time and juggled it awkwardly in her hands. Shiden, who was watching from the side, reached out and caught it easily. 

“The Thought-Support Device, Cicada. It was developed for Sirin Handlers and to ease the strain of the Sensory Resonance.” 

The Cicadoidea’s Wings—Cicada. 

Contrary to what its name implied, it was a choker-like device adorned with silver threads tinged with light purple that formed a delicate lace pattern. At its center was a light-violet quasi-nerve crystal, which upon closer inspection appeared to be finely spun out of the silver threads that seemed to extend from it. 

“Unfortunately, it’s not formally approved for use in the United Kingdom military, but it’s confirmed that it’s safe. The only reason it wasn’t put into use was because the soldiers were opposed to it.” 

Opposed to it? 

“Do you use it, too, Vika?” 

“No?” 

There was an odd pause. 

“Er… This is a device to lighten the Para-RAID’s strain, right?” 

“It is, but it’s no good for me, and even less so for the other Handlers.” 

“Why?” 

Vika replied with utter seriousness, “What would having a man wear this achieve?” 

“Um…” 

Lena didn’t follow. 

Vika took the Cicada from Lena’s hands, connected it to an information terminal, typed something into it (his previously removed spectacles were now back on his face), and after removing his spectacles again, tossed it back at her. 

“I’ve reformatted it, so you can try it on in the anteroom over there. It should also have reset the measurements… Don’t worry, there are no surveillance cameras in there.” 

“Oh… Er, thank you very much.” 

“It should go off on its own once you connect it to your neck… Oh, and…” 

As the anteroom door closed, Vika turned away. 

“…there’s a, um, a trick to putting it on. Well… Good luck, I suppose.” 

The anteroom Lena entered, as well as the rest of the underground base, was built to be soundproof, meaning no voices could get in or out. Yet, despite this… 

“Huh… Ah, ahhhhhhhhhhh?!” 

…Lena’s scream pierced the silence of the commander’s room, as it had slightly exceeded the soundproofing. 

Ignoring that yelp, Shiden helped herself to another cup of tea, which she sipped noisily. She’d learned it was considered a rude habit since coming to the Federacy, but she didn’t care enough to fix it. Staying in the same posture, she moved only her eyes in the direction of her former master. 

After Lena had entered the anteroom, Vika had told Shiden about the Cicada and its use. 

“…Just making sure, but it isn’t dangerous, right?” 

Vika stood facing the wall opposite the anteroom, plugging his ears, so Shiden was forced to write her question down on a piece of paper at the table’s corner. 

“Yeah. We’ve done more than enough animal experiments and practical tests. The only reason it’s not officially used is because it was unpopular with the soldiers, as I mentioned earlier.” 

“Well… I can kinda imagine why.” 

Just hearing about it gave Shiden a pretty bad opinion of it. As Vika kept his ears plugged despite being in the middle of a conversation, Lerche tilted her head quizzically. 

“Incidentally, Your Highness, why are you adopting such a peculiar stance?” 

“Can’t you tell? Listen, I don’t want to get myself killed.” 

“I…see.” 

“If that headless Reaper finds out about this, my head will roll, too.” 

“How horrid.” 

Lerche’s Emeraud eyes widened. 

“In that case, Sir Reaper is enamored with Lady Bloody Reina! How unexpected…” 

Vika and Shiden simultaneously whacked Lerche over her golden-haired head and then together shook the pain from their hands. Lerche’s skull was metallic, after all. It hurt quite a bit. 

“Holy shit… Is your brain rusty or something, you idiot?” 

“You shout that here and now, of all places and times? Forget that—it took you this long to notice, you seven-year-old?” 

“M-my shame knows no bounds…” 

Thankfully, none of this screeching reached Lena’s ears. 

The Processors had been appointed a section in the base’s residential block. Given that space underground was limited, the rooms were meant for four people each. Shin was sitting on the top bunk of his bed, his eyes fixed on the novel he was reading, when he suddenly lifted his head at the sound of a voice from afar. 

It was different from the Legion’s cries. A distant voice from somewhere… 

“…Did you just hear someone scream?” 

Somehow, he felt as if it was Lena’s voice. Having been asked, Raiden peeked out from the lower bunk and shook his head. 

“…No?” 

After a while, Lena left the anteroom with her face bright red and her uniform in disarray. If Vika hadn’t been the prince, she’d probably have slapped him across the cheek. Vika seemed to have been aware of that fact, but he spoke with a smile charged with noticeably false cheerfulness. 

“I’m glad I could be of service, Your Majesty.” 

“………!” 

Whoa, thank God Shin isn’t here right now. So Shiden thought to herself as Lena glared daggers at the prince. Pushing the Cicada into Vika’s extended hands, she turned on her heels in indignation. 

“I’m leaving, Vika.” 

“Yes, good night.” 

Lena walked down the hallway, her embarrassment and anger audible in her footsteps, but as the indignant annoyance subsided, she was instead flooded with lingering regret and self-loathing. 

Are you implying…that he’s a pitiful Eighty-Six who’s been irreparably broken by war and rendered incapable of proper judgment? 

Again. I did it again. 

“…Shiden, am I…?” 

She asked this without turning around, but Shiden raised an eyebrow behind her. 

“Am I a…an arrogant person?” 

Shiden scoffed with disinterest. 

“You’re just noticing this now?” 

Lena jerked in surprise, but Shiden continued, paying her reaction no mind. As if she was simply giving her opinion. 

“I live the way I want to. And that holds true for that prince and for Shin, too. So you can do whatever you want, too… Sometimes you just gotta butt heads with someone. If it happens, it happens.” 

“…But…” 

Butting heads with someone… Not understanding him is… I… 

The Revich Citadel Base’s eighth hangar. The Strike Package and the United Kingdom’s personnel stood in a well-organized formation in the largest hangar in the base, built in the lowest underground sector. A group of Juggernauts waited on standby in the shadow of the catwalks. 

“—I believe this is my first time meeting most of the Federacy’s soldiers. I am Viktor Idinarohk, commander of the United Kingdom’s southern front forces. Ranks are pointless, so you don’t need to remember mine. It’ll change before long anyway. I won’t be in direct command of you, but, well, you can think of me as one of your superior officers.” 

The odd atmosphere that fell over the Eighty-Six was likely a question along the lines of Who is this? Several of their gazes traveled between Vika and Lena, who stood silently beside the projected operation map. The deputy director of the United Kingdom military narrowed his eyes in displeasure, as if feeling the whole thing was disrespectful, but Vika simply sneaked a look in Lena’s direction and shrugged. 

This boy truly was both a member of this northern country’s royal family and the commander of its southern front. Even when faced with over a thousand members of personnel, he didn’t lose his composure. Incidentally, Vika was also the supervising commander for the Sirins, and while he was subordinate to Lena if following the chain of command, he still held absolute authority over this base. 

“The coming operation will be a collaborative effort between the Eighty-Sixth Strike Package and the southern front’s 1st Armored Corps. Our objective lies seventy kilometers south of the base, in the Legion’s territories—the complete suppression of a Legion production site located in the Dragon Corpse mountain range’s Dragon Fang Mountain.” 

It was a simple map, meant for providing information for corps-size forces, which presented the deployed United Kingdom forces and the opposing Legion force. The production base was marked with a red icon for emphasis. Compared to other confirmed Legion positions, it was one of the deeper and largest-scale ones. Since the southern Dragon Corpse mountain range stood as a natural defense along the United Kingdom–Federacy and United Kingdom–Republic borders, it was likely one of the Legion’s headquarters for the anti–United Kingdom front. 

“The Strike Package will lead the main attack, and the 1st Armored Corps will serve as backup. To be exact, the 1st Armored Corps will attack the Legion position as a diversion, drawing out and keeping the Legion’s frontline and reserve forces in check. The Strike Package will take advantage of the resulting gap in their defenses to infiltrate and seize control of the Dragon Fang Mountain production site.” 

In accordance with the explanation, the United Kingdom military’s armored unit’s icon moved diagonally, detouring around the front squadron to advance on different positions. As the Legion’s rear reserve forces moved, an advance route from the citadel base to the Dragon Fang Mountain production site appeared over the map. 

However, the most important detail—the map of the production base’s interior—wasn’t presented. This position had been constructed by the Legion after the area had become part of their territories. The human side couldn’t have a map of it. There had been a few attempts at scouting it out, but they only just barely informed the United Kingdom that a production base had been carved into the Dragon Fang Mountain. 

“In addition, we will be prioritizing the capture of said base’s commander unit, identifier: the Merciless Queen. It’s an Ameise from the earliest production batch… Or, well, I suppose that’s not as visibly discernable, but it’s a white Ameise… While it’s still only in the realm of speculation, there is a possibility said unit may be capable of providing humankind with information on the Legion. This information may or may not be a crucial component in ending the war. Therefore, we must capture it. Damaging it to some extent is acceptable, but leave its central processor intact… Any questions?” 

“In other words, we rush through the gap in the Legion after they take the bait, somehow beat the enemy, steal their ant queen, and then come back… Seriously, looks like any country we go to, everyone comes up with fucked-up ideas.” 

Unlike the Eighty-Sixth Sector, where most of the time they’d dealt with interceptions, an invasion operation required significant preparations. Since they would need to deceive the enemy into thinking the Dragon Fang Mountain capture operation was an all-out attack, they would need to create the impression they were scouting ahead to get a handle on the enemy’s firepower. As Theo grumbled, Shin, who was concentrated on that task, lifted his gaze. 

The Spearhead squadron marched through a snowy conifer forest, weaving between the trees in a tight wedge formation. Theo’s statement was not made to the whole squadron but was transmitted via Para-RAID to only Shin, Raiden, Kurena, and Anju. 

Since the United Kingdom’s front lines were in a mountainous region, both their military and the Legion held their positions between opposing mountains, with the valleys and plains between them serving as the contested zone. This area was no exception, and the Eighty-Six were currently advancing down a path that was different from the one they would take during the operation three days from now. They’d descended down gentle slopes earlier and were currently scaling up a sudden precarious cliff face. 

Their radar screens reflected the three squadrons near them, as well as a pixel symbolizing Alkonosts sent on recon a few kilometers ahead. A force of Barushka Matushkas from the United Kingdom’s armored corps was also advancing nearby. The Juggernauts passing through the trees had all had their armaments exchanged for light, non-revolving cannons and had long steel claws equipped to their legs for penetrating snow and icy surfaces. The snow that had fallen over the course of the long winter had hardened and frozen under its own weight, and they could hear the sharp sound of steel stabbing into the ice as they moved. 

Lena asked Shin over the Resonance: 

“Captain Nouzen… The Phönix’s position hasn’t moved from the Dragon Fang Mountain base today, has it?” 

“Doesn’t seem like it,” he replied, directing his consciousness to the inorganic, mechanical scream disturbing even the silence caused by the snow’s sound dampening. He’d realized the new type of Legion he’d encountered and let slip away during the last operation was here, on the United Kingdom’s battlefield, soon after arriving at this base. It was somewhere in the Dragon Fang Mountain base, the objective of their operation… Where the Merciless Queen—potentially Zelene—who had hidden that message within the Phönix, might be. Their being together felt almost obvious. 

“I think we can safely assume it will be set to defend the Dragon Fang Mountain base… It’ll likely serve as our biggest obstacle in the upcoming operation.” 

“I don’t think we’ll encounter any problems so long as we deal with it as we’ve previously planned.” 

“Yes, but I propose we conserve that tactic for later. Perhaps after we get back from the diversion.” 

“Roger.” 

On the other hand, Raiden replied to Theo. 

“Those heaps of junk have the upper hand and all the initiative no matter what country you go to. But if you consider the distance, situation, and the difference in our forces, this is much better than it was back in the Morpho-elimination operation.” 

“We might not have a map of the enemy base, but the Alkonosts will be handling all the recon for us. Apparently, we can leave that role to those girls from now on… But…” 

Anju shrugged. 

“…the fact that they look like girls our age gives me kind of mixed feelings about this. Even after I saw them walking through the snow just fine dressed in nothing more than field uniforms.” 

While Shin and his group were here, giving the impression they were on recon, the Sirins were scoping out the route the Strike Package would take during the operation, and since the Alkonosts would be quickly detected, it was only the Sirins themselves. 

Shin’s ability wasn’t able to distinguish the Sirins’ voices from the Legion’s. After the Sirins had passed by so many Legion groups, Shin couldn’t discern their positions, as they were scattered across the battlefield. 

The United Kingdom drone that observed the Morpho… Shin narrowed his eyes in recollection. 

Yes… You could consider it to have the same armaments a fair maiden might carry. 

During the conference where they’d discussed how they would deal with the Morpho, the United Kingdom’s crown prince had said that, referring to them as drones. Shin had heard about it from Ernst after the operation. As one might expect, even in such a meeting, the crown prince had spoken with elegance and poetic grace. 

But that was no flowery figure of speech. 

The drone he’d been describing back then was a Sirin. And so it was no metaphor; the payload it could carry was indeed limited to what a maiden could carry. It was smaller than a Feldreß and thus wasn’t as easily detected by probes and radar, but in exchange, the weight it could carry was about the same as what a human could. And in that case, if a Sirin had to carry communications equipment and a spare energy pack, it wouldn’t be able to carry weapons. In order to observe the Morpho’s roost in Kreutzbeck City, they’d had to send in multiple Sirins with equipment that would allow them to penetrate the electronic jamming, and all of them had been destroyed. 

A humane operation, with no loss of human life… A humane battlefield with zero casualties. 

The Sirins were made up of the dead, so that wasn’t a mistaken statement… But then Kurena, who had kept quiet until that moment, said: 

“I mean… They’re kinda… Y’know… Kinda creepy.” 

She spoke as if fearing the Sirin might hear her, despite the fact that only the five of them were Resonated. 

“It feels nasty saying this, because it feels like I’m trashing them behind their backs, but…they’re basically like walking corpses, right? I…don’t really get how it works, but it’s creepy.” 

Theo apparently cocked his head with an “Mm.” 

“Does it really bother you that much? It’s not that different from the Legion… Like, Black Sheep and the Shepherds. All they did was just put a copy of a human brain in a human-shaped container.” 

“…I don’t think it’s on a level where you can say they ‘just’ do that…” Theo paused pensively. “I mean, the Sirins aren’t even all that human. They don’t breathe, there’s this weird time lag to their movements, their expressions are predictable, and their eyes are unfocused. They’re more like human-shaped self-propelled mines that can talk.” 

He listed off a bunch of discrepancies that never bothered Shin in the slightest. Since Theo’s hobby was drawing, he likely had a tendency to observe his subjects more deeply. And Kurena probably found the Sirins to be creepy for similar reasons. She was a sniper, and snipers didn’t usually aim at static targets. 

No matter how fast the tank shell, there was a time lag ranging from tenths of seconds to a few seconds before it impacted the target, depending on the distance. With this much time, any target could move, be they human or Legion. To hit, a sniper would have to predict the trajectory and distance and have an observant eye capable of seeing any minute movements. Having gained those skills, Kurena had probably unconsciously picked up on the differences between a human and a Sirin. 

“And really, they look human on the outside, but on the inside they’re apparently pretty much like Feldreß. I hear that since they had to make them the size and shape of a human, their operation time and output are pretty limited.” 

“They have no senses except for hearing and seeing, and their stomachs are loaded with their propulsion and cooling systems… They don’t eat, don’t have to sleep… I can’t really imagine how it must feel.” 

“Assuming they even feel anything.” 

“Theeeeo.” 

“Whaaat?” 

Theo then realized and fell quiet. Shin felt Raiden wordlessly turn toward him but didn’t realize what the matter was for a second. But after blinking once, he realized. 

Oh. They were talking about his brother. 

His brother, who had died in battle, had his head stolen, and become a Legion—Rei. Shin honestly wasn’t bothered all that much. That Dinosauria had certainly been his brother’s ghost, yes, but Shin didn’t know whether his thoughts and consciousness had truly remained in there. The same held true for the countless comrades they’d failed to save from being taken away by the Legion. 

So he didn’t feel much aversion to considering a copied, mechanical brain structure as a machine and not a human. Except… 

Shin sank into his thoughts. As Theo had said, there was no major difference between the Sirins and the Black Sheep, Shepherds, and Sheepdogs. They were reproductions of human brains, mechanical ghosts that couldn’t even be called corpses. But even after he’d died and had his head stolen, even when he was just a copy, Shin had seen Rei as his brother. In which case, Lerche—and all the Sirins, who were made from the brain structures of the war dead—was… 

Incidentally, while Vika wasn’t connected to the captains of the Spearhead squadron via Para-RAID, their direct commander, Lena, and her staff were constantly connected to them. 

“…Are they not aware that we can hear them? They speak recklessly, indeed…” 

Frederica frowned as she listened to the teenage soldiers’ chatter. It was a recon run where Shin had confirmed that the enemy wasn’t around ahead of time. It wasn’t the path they’d take during the operation, and while they were still vigilant, they had the leisure to chat with one another. 

They were in the Revich Citadel Base’s surface sector. The base’s data center still wasn’t set up to receive the Juggernaut’s data link, so they took command from here, inside Vanadis. Sitting in the commander’s seat, Lena dropped her shoulders heavily. 

“I swear… They may have a different chain of command, but who knows when someone from the United Kingdom might connect to the Resonance…” 

At Vanadis’s side, the Brísingamen squadron, led by Cyclops, was deployed, along with a single Barushka Matushka. With a long-barreled 120 mm cannon on its back, it was shorter than both Vanadis and a Löwe and had a bulky appearance supported by ten short, thick legs. It was armed like a demon’s fortress, with two heavy machine guns and a launcher, and its white armor, like a snow-furred beast, and glowing blue optical sensor gave it the visage of the fuzzy monsters sung of in folklore. 

It was a Feldreß for sure, but certainly not one for which mobility was the main focus. This machine was planned with the unstable, hard-to-maneuver-in terrain of the United Kingdom’s battlefield in mind, with the central strategy of lying in wait to destroy the enemy with a single strike. 

The Personal Mark of a snake coiled around an apple was emblazoned on the unit’s armor. Identifier: Gadyuka. Vika’s personal Imperial unit, modified with communications equipment for command purposes and enhanced computation abilities. Sending the guest out alone wouldn’t do, of course, so Lerche went with him and helped command the Sirins who were scouting out the path for the invasion operation. 

“But I’m a bit surprised… I thought Shin and the others might feel some sympathy for the Sirins, given they’re treated the same way they were…” 

They, the Eighty-Six, who knew what it was like to be treated as parts of a drone and forced to battle. 

But apparently, nothing could be further from the truth. Kurena’s frank disgust was a radical example, but it held just as true for Theo’s blunt attitude, and even for Raiden, who despite his overall indifference apparently had his own thoughts on the matter. Anju was sympathetic, if only just a bit. And as far as Lena could see, the other Eighty-Six generally kept their distance from the Sirins, seeing them as unfamiliar, creepy machines. 

“You wouldn’t feel any affinity for dictators who led witch hunts or ordered the massacre of other ethnic groups, just by virtue of belonging to the same category of oppressor as them, would you? Being similar to another means not that you feel affinity or sympathy for them. To begin with, ’tis dubious if they are that similar to the Sirins to begin with… After all, did you not flinch away from the Sirins the first time you saw them for what they were?” 

Frederica was willfully forgetful of the fact that she’d frozen in place when Lerche showed herself and that she’d remained rattled and silent until the conversation had ended. Lena smiled softly. 

“…Yes. I suppose you’re right.” 

“Things are as such… However, well…” 

Frederica tilted her head. 

“…this may well prove to be a good encounter for them.” 

As Lena looked down at her, Frederica looked up at the holo-screen with disinterest. 

“Pursuing the question of what the Sirins truly are isn’t relevant to the battlefield, but asking if the Sirins are human or not, and if not, what sets them apart? What are humans, truly, and what makes one human…? Those are all important questions they will one day have to ask about themselves.” 

“………” 

Lena recalled that the Strike Package was formed to be in charge of attacks on important Legion holds. It was also to be loaned to other countries for aid. Dispatch operations had high mortality rates, and it was perfectly plausible the Federacy intended to use it as a propaganda unit to garner favors and debts from other countries when peacetime came. 

However, at the same time, there was another possibility. The special schooling periods the Eighty-Six were given, which were superfluous, seeing as their role was simply to fight. The increased number of mental health personnel allotted to them and the thorough counseling programs they were offered. Even their headquarters was located near a large city. 

All of those, along with being dispatched for other countries, may have been a form of consideration on the Federacy’s behalf. To show the Eighty-Six, who couldn’t see past the current state of affairs to a future beyond the Legion War, a new world… 

“What makes us human? Put another way, for what purpose do we live? Perhaps this encounter will be a fine opportunity for them to answer those questions.” 

A short time ago, the Spearhead squadron had received a scheduled message from Lerche, who was Resonated with the Alkonost recon unit. When connected to her, a dead person, the Resonance filled with a coldness that wasn’t there for a normal human being. Perhaps this was part of the reason the Eighty-Six felt disgusted by the Sirins, because Kurena and the other squad mates were silent as Shin answered her. 

After exchanging several reports and messages and concluding the report, Lerche suddenly said: 

“Incidentally, may I ask you all something?” 

“…? Yeah.” 

Shin nodded, and it felt as if Lerche sat up straighter in her seat. 

“I have heard of the Republic’s acts of barbarism and that you Eighty-Six have been given refuge in the Federacy following the Republic’s fall… So why have you returned to the military? Did the Federacy ask you to enlist in military service in exchange for your citizenship?” 

Kurena gave an immediate, sullen reply. 

“We never fought because someone forced us into it.” 

Her tone was strong and severe, as if the very question irritated her. 

“Not for the Federacy nor for the Republic’s white pigs. Never. We chose this for ourselves. If we have to count the days until we’re hanged, we’d rather fight, face death, and keep struggling on until the day it finally comes… Don’t look down on us.” 

“………” 

Lerche seemed overwhelmed by the force of Kurena’s statement. 

“My sincerest apologies. Think of it as the meaningless chirping of a bird in the background and forgive me… However, in that case…” 

Just then, the oscillation sensors in their legs picked up a reading. An alert window popped up, and after a moment’s delay, they heard the heavy, hard sound of metal plates clashing. The sound of a Löwe’s 120 mm turret. It came from the direction of the Dragon Fang Mountain invasion route. Right where the Sirins were on recon. 

“They were detected. How careless…! Even though you gave them the enemy’s initial positions, Sir Reaper…!” 

The wails of the Legion skulking throughout the contested zones picked up in volume at once. Their presence—which seemed to become clearer when they were in groups—was colored over with programmed, hollow, yet vehement hostility. 

And one of those screams, a battle cry from a unit that was still distant from here, stuck out to Shin. It was a particular war cry that always came before a set attack pattern. But the distance was too far, and what waited beyond the horizon was only the Legion’s territories. Was it a Skorpion? 

But if it was a Skorpion, it was too… 

“…! All units, spread out and switch to your sub-weapons. Colonel!” 

He called out the moment he realized what he’d just felt wasn’t a Skorpion. 

“We’re entering combat… I predict enemy reinforcements. Warn the armored unit, too!” 

Thirty kilometers from the front lines, in the Legion’s territories. In a snowy field sitting within a forest clearing, the Legion unit drove the multiple plow-like shock absorbers attached to its legs into the ground and took aim. Locking all of its joints, it fixed its body to the ground and deployed the rails on its back, which stretched forward. The tips of these massive rails, which extended as long as ninety meters, aimed north, to the United Kingdom’s front lines. 

Ameise units that lay in wait climbed onto the rails. Instead of their 7.62 mm all-purpose machine guns, they had 14 mm machine guns meant for engaging lightly armored units. Clinging to the rails, their legs attached to a shuttle that resembled a starting block, they crouched down as if bracing themselves. Purple lightning ran through the rails, like the slithering of a snake. 

These rail-bearing Legion were, like the Skorpion and Stachelschwein units, a type that didn’t appear on the front lines. But unlike those artillery types, they were special support units humankind had yet to counter. 

And the development code given to these support types by Zelene Birkenbaum while they were being developed in the Imperial military laboratory was the Electromagnetic Launcher type—Zentaur. 

Lena couldn’t believe her ears. 

“Combat?! Are you saying the enemies are flying over the recon force ahead of you?!” 

Normally, one might suspect it was an ambush, but with Shin that was impossible. She could hear Vika clicking his tongue on the other side of the Resonance. 

“Nouzen is probably correct. Another armored unit just ran into the enemy… What kind of trick are they pulling here?” 

Marcel, who had been listening in, gasped. 

“They’re probably using some kind of launcher unit! Light units like self-propelled mines and Ameise are raining down on them!” 

“Raining down…?! Ah…!” 

Having realized what was going on, Lena clenched her teeth. She’d seen mention of it in the Federacy’s combat logs. It was very rare, but there were records of airborne lightweight Legion units and a speculated, unconfirmed catapult-type Legion—the Zentaur. 

Catapults were primarily used by aircraft carriers to allow fighter planes to achieve the velocity needed for takeoff in case the available runways were insufficient. They used pneumatic pressure or electricity to kick attached aircrafts overboard. 

It was a violent method, but this device boasted massive output, which allowed aircrafts carrying bombs to reach a velocity of three hundred kilometers per second. Using it to launch the lightweight Ameise or self-propelled mines, which were even lighter, was a simple matter. 

Marcel’s face contorted bitterly. 

“We’ve been ambushed like this once during recon training when I was in the special officer’s academy, together with Captain Nouzen and Eugene…a contemporary of ours from back then. There were many casualties. Even if they’re only lightweights, they can be dangerous if they surround you all of a sudden.” 

Raising a roar inaudible to the human ear, the Zentaurs simultaneously activated the spear-like electromagnetic catapults on their backs. The shuttles kicked off, launching the Ameise, which weighed over ten tons each, and throwing capsules containing a platoon of self-propelled mines over the ninety-meter-long rails. As they reached maximum velocity at the tip of the rails, the locks were released, and the launched lightweight Legion took to the skies, igniting the rocket boosters that had been attached to them, and ascended farther into the air, leaving trails of fire and smoke in their wake. 

They reached their necessary altitude in the blink of an eye and purged their boosters, which had concluded their combustion. Before gravity could pull them down into a fall, they deployed pairs of collapsible, disposable transparent wings. The planet’s gravity, which ruled over all, took hold of them, but their spread wings caught the wind of their downward descent and transitioned into a glide. 

Gliding across the frigid heavens, the Legion headed for their input coordinates, beginning their headlong descent to the frozen earth. 

Detaching their gliders as they approached the ground, the Legion spread their legs and landed. The Ameise touched down on six legs while the self-propelled mines used their four limbs like animals as they spilled out of their capsules, which had cracked open upon being detached. 

Snow sprayed about, and the ground rumbled as they spread out in the gaps between the trees. The Ameise, which were in charge of scouting, turned their composite sensors about when… 

“—Fire.” 

The moment Shin gave his order, the Juggernauts lying in ambush rose up and fired the machine guns equipped to their grappling arms. The Ameise and self-propelled mines were types meant for antipersonnel combat, and their armor was light—therefore thin—which allowed them to be easily loaded onto the catapults. The barrage of heavy machine-gun fire, capable of shredding an automobile’s engine to bits, reduced them to swiss cheese before their enemy-encounter alarm could go off. 

Confirming that the ghosts’ wails had all died out, Shin turned his attention to the next predicted Legion landing point. Unlike the Skorpion types’ bombardment, which drew a parabolic curve, gliding allowed the Legion to control their trajectory and change their landing spots, making them harder to predict, but with this forest being the battlefield, the situation was different. Landing required a certain amount of open space, and this thick conifer forest, with its trees being hundreds of years old, didn’t have too many positions large enough to accommodate that. And so Shin, who could track their airborne trajectory, was easily able to predict where they were headed. 

“Rito, direction 113. Michihi, just ahead of your squad… Gun them down as soon as they land.” 

“Rooooger that.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

The biting sounds of heavy machine-gun fire reached their ears even through the thick veil of the forest’s trees. However, their numbers were too great. The Legion tended to deploy the inhuman strategy of using part of their forces as decoys while having the rest charge through. And soon enough, the Processors would be left without any options. 

The Para-RAID triggered, as if to answer this dilemma, and Vika spoke to Shin. Vika was exceeding his authority by doing this, but no one cared. Not even Lena. 

“Nouzen. We’ll get rid of the catapults. Focus on the ones landing.” 

Shin could faintly hear the consecutive sounds of explosions booming in the background of Vika’s voice. The sound of several howitzers, likely the citadel base’s fixed defenses. Multiple voices—likely belonging to the catapults—suddenly fell silent. Realizing the howitzer fire had swept them away, Shin returned his focus to the enemies around him… Indeed, the United Kingdom military was quite organized. It wasn’t for nothing that they held the Legion’s progress in check in this mountain range. 

“—Roger.” 

“—Gunner team to Gadyuka. Suppression complete.” 

“Remain on standby. Provide covering fire on demand.” 

“By your will.” 

Nodding at the artillery team’s report, Vika turned his attention to his royal guard. 

“Lerche.” 

“Aye, my lord.” 

She responded to him immediately, using the special communication device the Republic and the Federacy called the Para-RAID. The marching Sirins under her command switched over to his control. Usually, the number of Sirins Handlers could control ranged from a team of four to a company of forty. Vika, however, was the only one in the United Kingdom military capable of commanding a full battalion of two hundred at once. 

“Show them.” 

“By your will, my lord,” Lerche replied, seated within the cockpit of her Alkonost. 

Identifier: Chaika. The faint monochrome light of the optical screen reflected in her unblinking green eyes. Those artificial eyes, which Vika had worked painstakingly hard on to make indistinguishable from a human’s. Their structure and function, however, were no different from a Feldreß’s optical sensor. As were the ears she received her master’s orders with… Though her senses of taste, smell, touch, and pain were nonexistent. 

In the end, we are but clockwork forged in the shape of man. We are not human. 

“Sirin Unit 1, Lerche—moving out!” 

The Legion that evaded the interception and managed to regroup surged out of the dark forest like a wave. 

“—Get them in a pincer attack…so they can’t shoot in this direction!” 

The Alkonosts sharply pounced from the gap between the trees, and at the same moment, Lerche’s warning blared through both the wireless and the Sensory Resonance. 

Regardless of that, Shin braced himself for the sound of the ghosts emanating from the Alkonosts. The sound of the final moments of the war dead whose minds had been taken away as they’d been subjected to anesthesia. The voices of the ghosts, who continued wishing and begging to be allowed to return. 

It truly was too hard to discern, Shin thought with a click of the tongue. He couldn’t tell them apart. Especially in melee combat, where friend and foe were chaotically mixed together. The Alkonosts were optimized for fighting on the frozen battlefield and deployed with an agility that ignored the snowy terrain, closing in on the Legion’s front lines from three directions. 

Like the Barushka Matushka, the Alkonost had five pairs of legs, except its legs were long and jointed. Its torso, to which the cockpit was attached, was so thin it felt doubtful it even had armor to begin with, giving it the appearance of a pholcid spider. It had white armor that let it blend in with the snow’s shadows, but while it had the appearance of an ice sculpture, the 105 mm caliber short-barreled gun launcher it carried clashed with that impression. 

Leaving the sharp, distinctive sound of steel claws stabbing into ice in their wake, the Alkonosts wove their way through the trees in small hops or by climbing up the thick trunks and running over the treetops. Their frames were apparently lighter than the Juggernauts’, based on a design concept that placed emphasis on high-mobility combat, similar to the Reginleif. 

From both the rear and above the treetops, the frozen spiders descended like starved winter animals on the Legion as they turned to face the Alkonosts. 

With the Zentaurs having been bombarded before they could launch the entirety of the airborne forces, all that remained was to sweep up the Ameise and the self-propelled mines, which had relatively low combat capabilities. And with their numbers lacking, they were no match for experienced Eighty-Six. 

On the other hand, a detached armored force was struggling with the Löwe that rushed in to cover for the Legion. 

“Captain Nouzen, a detached force broke through. Two companies in size, a standard formation of Grauwolf and Löwe types. Exercise caution.” 

“Roger, Colonel. We’ll go in to intercept them… Kurena, cover me. Raiden, you handle this side.” 

“Lerche, take two platoons and join in. Learn from them.” 

“By your will.” 

The icons of the Juggernaut and Alkonost mixed unit started moving within Vanadis’s main screen, and the battle with the two Legion companies began. Lying in wait in the flanks of the Legion’s route and purposely letting the enemy vanguard pass through in order to strike from their side was one of Shin’s established tactics. 

The Barushka Matushka likely saw the battle unfold, as well, as Vika said over the Resonance: 

“…I’m surprised. An all-purpose unit, and a manned one at that, doing this much.” 

His voice was clearly tinged with awe, to which Lena smiled wordlessly. The research team and the maintenance crew had done well with outfitting them for fighting in snowy terrain, and although the Eighty-Six’s skills were no reflection of her own, it still made her happy to hear them being praised. 

“Pilots capable of matching an Alkonost—a drone—in mobile combat are rare in the United Kingdom. And these were only hastily set up for combat in snowy terrain… If time permits, I would like to have them instruct the Sirins. Since they can be replaced if they break, they have a tendency to compensate for lack of skill with recklessness.” 

“Thank you very much. But I was surprised, as well… Forty units sent out for recon and eight more for scouting. I can’t believe you’re controlling them all on your own…” 

“Small, individual decisions are made by the Sirins themselves to some extent, though I have to be in charge of enemy priority and their advance path… I’m only giving slightly more detailed instructions than you did while commanding them in the Eighty-Sixth Sector.” 

“Are there any points of fault with the Reginleif, from your perspective?” 

“I would prefer their snow-terrain equipment to be a bit more fine-tuned. We have a few days until the attack, so I’d like to take the time to have them modified… In fact, why don’t we have the Eighty-Six use the Alkonosts? I wouldn’t mind hearing their opinion on it, either.” 

Lena blinked at the unexpected proposal. 

“Can Alkonosts be piloted by humans?” 

“Why do you think the Sirins are made in human form? Without that kind of compatibility, we’d be in trouble in a scenario in which we were short on pilots or rigs. If a pilot has to forfeit their machine during combat, a nearby Sirin can hand over their Alkonost… Spending too much time on our battlefield can be taxing on the body, after all.” 

Those words were off-putting, coming as they were from the lips of this inhuman serpent, one of the rulers of the last despotic monarchy on the continent… Words that purely valued human lives. 

“The battlefield is no place for humans to begin with. If possible, I would have Sirins piloting exclusively, but it takes some degree of aptitude to become a Handler… And soldiers have their own ideas of dignity and disgust. Though perhaps that is to be expected when they consider entrusting the United Kingdom’s fate to these terrifying automatons.” 

That wasn’t to say he grieved their loss, per se… But it was also somehow different from an owner of livestock lamenting the loss of his animals. 

“…Vika. Can I ask you one thing?” 

“Mm?” 

“About Lerche. Why is she…the only one that looks exactly like a human?” 

She had golden hair, just like a human’s, and didn’t have a quasi-nerve crystal embedded into her forehead. And while she served as an escort, she wasn’t turned off and stored away in times of peace like the other Sirins. Rather, she freely walked about the palace. 

“…Yes, well…” 

For the first time, Vika spoke with an evasive tone. 

“…My apologies, but can I abstain from answering that…?” 

It was a clash of highly mobile armored weapons. As the machines rushed to evade being shot through the front in their attempt to gun the enemy down, it was naturally hard to tell friend apart from foe. The unstable, snowy battlefield put Shin’s Undertaker, which was optimized for melee combat, at a disadvantage. 

As such, he avoided melee combat and switched to recon duties. He would instead serve as a decoy, fishing out units that attempted to encircle his comrades. Waves of shrapnel, machine-gun fire, sniper shots, and bombardment crashed against the Löwe stampeding through the ice and crushing it under their feet, cornering and destroying the Grauwolf types that freely moved through the forest. 

Standing at the Juggernauts’ sides, the Alkonosts faced off against four squads of Legion, repeating the practiced tactic of isolating and destroying individual units. They were, after all, similar to the Reginleif in terms of being lightly armored, agile units, and like Undertaker, they were designed for close combat. 

Using their short-barreled 105 mm gun launchers, which allowed them to fire HEATs and anti-tank missiles from the same barrel, they decimated the Legion with close-range bombardment. 

However… 

“—They’re fighting like they know they’re gonna be destroyed,” Raiden whispered faintly. 

Several Alkonosts that had had their legs blown off by machine-gun fire clung to a Löwe, firing volleys into it like vultures clinging to an animal and tearing it apart alive. As a few Grauwolf types rushed in to assist, a single Alkonost stood in their way to delay them. Another clung to a Grauwolf that had followed it to the treetops, dropping them both in free fall, and another drew out the flock of self-propelled mines, only to rush at a nearby Löwe after they clung to it, blowing both the Löwe and the mines away. 

It was different from the Eighty-Six and the Federacy’s Vánagandrs, who faced the Legion by fighting in coordinated groups. The Sirins’ fighting style was based around acting as decoys and stalling the opponent at first, then making suicidal charges in an attempt to take out chunks of the enemy force. And it was evident from their lack of hesitance that none of the Sirins had any reservations about the tactic. It was as if they had accepted the fact that they were expendable… 

“They should really consider their application a bit better. If they get whittled down this quickly, we won’t have enough hands on deck to survive the operation. Hell, even getting there might be hard like this.” 

“Yeah…” 

Shin started replying but was suddenly cut off. Ahead to the left, at the edge of the trail disappearing behind a curve in the trees, his ability picked up that part of the Legion forces facing off against the Alkonosts had broken through their defenses. As he cast his gaze sharply ahead, two Löwe appeared on the trail. Löwe had low sensor capabilities. They didn’t sense Undertaker’s presence beyond the trees, nor were they wary of an attack from another direction, as their turrets revolved after only a moment’s pause. But by the time their sights aligned his way, Undertaker was already upon them. 

Using fallen trees as footholds, he advanced in small, sharp leaps, tearing through the first Löwe’s flank as he passed it by. He then used his victim’s legs as a foothold to jump away and evade the second one’s shot, pumping a shell into the top side of its turret in revenge. The two Löwe crumpled to their feet at roughly the same moment Undertaker landed, surrounded by a spray of smoke and snow. 

An Alkonost that had rushed after the Löwe appeared in his optical screen, standing stock-still and staring at him. The Personal Mark emblazoned on it was that of a white seabird—Chaika. Lerche’s unit. 

“…Unbelievable. Truly, this is the prowess of the Eighty-Sixth Sector’s Reaper… To think a human would single-handedly overwhelm a Tank class.” 

“Are there any Legion left over there?” 

“Huh…? No, the rest of my unit swept them away. Our carelessness was a hindrance to you.” 

As she spoke, Chaika’s faint-blue optical sensor restlessly turned to the fallen Löwe. 

“I’m surprised you’re okay. A human, riding such an unruly mount—” 

“We’re used to it,” Shin replied plainly. 

The fighting was so fierce they had to get used to it whether they wanted to or not, and those who couldn’t—those whose bodies couldn’t keep up—died, as they were unable to fight. 

“‘Used to it,’ you say… I see. The battlefield of the Eighty-Sixth Sector must have been harsh, indeed…” 

She had no breathing functionality, yet she spoke with a sigh. Chaika’s optical sensor once again turned to the Legion’s wreckage. 

“…Sir Reaper. If…” 

She asked him a question in a voice as sweet as a warble. Suddenly, almost casually. 

“If you could discard your human body and gain greater combat prowess, would you do it, Sir Reaper? For the sake of living on and continuing the fight.” 

For a moment, Shin didn’t understand what she was saying. And the moment he realized, a shiver ran down his spine—a rare occurrence for one so apathetic. 

“What are you—?” 

“Your circulatory system could be augmented for greater pumping efficiency. Your legs could be modified with artificial muscles that would increase their shock absorbency to prevent blackouts. If your blood was made synthetic, you would see vast improvements to your oxygen-production capabilities. Currently, your internal organs are vulnerable to impact and ill-suited for the high-mobility combat we are accustomed to… All these modifications are possible with the United Kingdom’s technology, though many of the procedures are still in their experimental stages. The brain’s fragility is one thing that is still beyond the reach of their technology, but we Sirins have overcome even that issue. Would you gain such power if you could? Would you claim it, to fight on?” 

“…” 

For the sake of defeating the Legion…it was a valid suggestion. The Legion overwhelmed humankind because they were machines built specifically to combat humans. Humans had many functions that were useless or even disadvantageous when it came to combat, and they couldn’t hope to match the Legion, which were optimized solely for combat. 

So if humans were to discard all their imperfections… If they were to rid themselves of anything that was not needed for combat and they were to cast aside the flesh and blood that were useless for battle in favor of more efficient machines, it would surely increase their chances of victory. 

And still…even those with nothing to defend…nothing to gain… Even the Eighty-Six, who saw fighting to the bitter end as their sole source of pride, didn’t wish to sacrifice their flesh-and-blood bodies for the cause. 

Lerche smiled at Shin’s silence. There was some mockery to that smile, but it was also mixed in with a faint hue of relief. 

“—I’ve said something unnecessary. Please forget I mentioned this.” 

“You…” 

Her smile grew thin. 

“The enemy is approaching, Sir Reaper… Please forget this.” 

The Juggernauts and Alkonosts regrouped and soon switched to taking out the Legion’s airborne forces. Shortly afterward, the United Kingdom’s armored unit engaged and eliminated the Legion’s armored forces. And at some point, in the midst of the combat that raged through the ice and snow… 

“—You death-obsessed birds of prey…” 

No one was there to listen when both a Processor and a United Kingdom pilot let slip the same words. 

Upon hearing the sound of a ghost’s weeping, as faint as the fluttering snow, Shin instinctively turned in its direction. What he found wasn’t a crumbled Legion but the wreckage of an Alkonost. It really is too hard to tell them apart, Shin thought as he sighed, removing his finger from the trigger. As both the Legion and the Sirins were based on the idea of using the war dead, Shin couldn’t differentiate between them. 

Of course, the Juggernaut’s IFF (Identify Friend/Foe) device would identify the Alkonost as a friendly unit, but it wasn’t so easy when it was so badly trashed. Judging from the fact that he could hear the wailing, the Sirin inside wasn’t dead yet. Did he have the leisure to take it out, though? 

Confirming there were no Legion presently approaching their position, Shin opened Undertaker’s canopy. Opening the Alkonost’s canopy proved difficult, as it wasn’t at the front of the machine but was set to pop open from behind. If one were to prioritize the front’s armor—and the life of the pilot—it was perhaps natural, but something about the design honestly didn’t sit well with Shin. 

He input the shared emergency code into the number panel, and the canopy flung back, accompanied by the sound of compressed air being released. As he leaned into the cramped cockpit, he was welcomed by an assault rifle—a United Kingdom standard-issue 7.92 caliber. The Sirin aiming the gun apologetically lowered the barrel. 

She was tall for a girl and had red hair in a shade that was too striking to be natural. Her name was, if he recalled correctly, Ludmila. 

“My apologies, Captain Nouzen. I thought a self-propelled mine might have sneaked up on me.” 

Right. Since the canopy was located along the rear armor, if the enemy was able to wrench it open, they would end up taking the pilot from behind. The angles one could shoot in were limited because of the seat’s positioning, and one wouldn’t be able to react to the agile Legion in time. 

“I can understand why you were cautious, so don’t worry about it… Can you move?” 

Ludmila looked at Shin’s extended hand with surprise and then smirked. 

“We Sirins are like cogs in the machine. We don’t require rescue. His Highness informed you of this, did he not? 

“It was my understanding that the situation was so grave that you had no choice but to team up with the Federacy… If nothing else, I would think your country was in no position to freely dispose of and replace something that isn’t broken.” 

Ludmila’s wordless smile deepened. Taking her slender hand, Shin dragged her out of the half-ruined Alkonost. She really was heavy, and the palm of her hand was cold to the touch. A silent reminder that the person he touched was not truly alive. 

Apparently, her donor was a young boy. He continued weeping with a wordless cry, his voice different from the girl before Shin’s eyes. A wail that begged to be allowed to pass on. 

Like the Legion and the countless Sirins…and his brother’s ghost, which was gone now, and his few comrades who still remained trapped by the Legion. 

“…Or maybe…” 

The question slipped from his lips before he even realized. A question Shin himself hadn’t thought of. 

“…the truth is, you didn’t want me to save you?” 

Perhaps she wanted to be left to her demise. To return to the death she sought. After staring wide-eyed at Shin for a moment, Ludmila broke into a large grin. 

“Nonsense. My body is the sword and shield of the United Kingdom.” 

Her tone and expression were filled with pride. Those were words and emotions that Shin, being an Eighty-Six without a homeland, naturally couldn’t understand. Some of the Federacy’s soldiers likely wouldn’t agree, either. To not only accept but take pride in the fact that she was born a tool was a difficult concept to fathom. 

The pride of the inhuman. 

“If we are to be destroyed, we would do so while taking the United Kingdom’s enemies with us. It is for that reason that we chose to linger on the battlefield even after death.” 

…And yet, the ghost within her cried out a different wish altogether. 

“It seems things are mostly taken care of. They should be retreating soon,” Anju said, looking around the battlefield as signs of the enemy grew scarce. The overlapping trees blocked their view of the frozen battlefield. It appeared there was a large mountain river flowing from the other side of the forest to their left and streaming water to the area, as the rumbling roar of the water resonated against the cliff face. 

This armed recon mission was only a deception meant to fool the enemy. It could be said that their objective was complete at the point when they made contact with the enemy and entered combat, and the knowledge that the Zentaurs were out there was valuable information. 

“Are there remnants of the enemy here, according to Captain Nouzen’s recon?” Dustin asked, piloting Sagittarius about ten meters away. He was the least proficient in the squadron and a Republic citizen, and he was currently teamed up with Anju. 

Regardless, Anju shrugged. Shin’s ability could share the Legion’s positions to those Resonated with him, but it was meaningless unless they were near him. The positions of the ghosts they heard via the Para-RAID were only relative to his position. And in addition to that… 

“I feel this is something all newbies have to hear sooner or later, but…you shouldn’t rely on Shin too much. True, Shin’s ability is so accurate it’s scary… But that doesn’t mean he can always warn all of us in time.” 

If the situation ever arose where we lost Shin… Well anyway, they wouldn’t be able to fight if they relied on him too much. She would’ve been able to finish that sentence back in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, but here, the words caught in her throat. Back then, it had been certain they would be put to death within five years of their drafting. Back when their fate had been predetermined, their only choice had been to face it head-on. 

But things were different now. She didn’t have to say those words anymore. Nor did she want to. She didn’t want to imagine her taciturn comrade’s death—especially because of how often he seemed to defy it—because spoken words had the power to become reality. That was something she’d heard from Kaie, a comrade from the Eighty-Sixth Sector’s first ward, who’d had her neural network assimilated and had become a Black Sheep. 

Dustin fell silent and then nodded in contemplation of what Anju had just said. 

“…You’re right. I’d bet the Captain has it hard, too, with us relying on him so much.” 

Anju’s eyes widened with surprise, and then she smiled. Dustin was an excellent student—a valedictorian, in fact—who’d been asked to hold a speech at the Republic’s founding festival. He was a fast learner and always thought a bit ahead of what he’d been taught. Still, it was surprising to see Dustin, a Republic citizen, worry for an Eighty-Six like Shin. 

“That’s right. Let’s try not to burden him too much… Mm…” 

Just then, something nudged at her sense of caution, which had been interrupted by the conversation. There was something at the edge of her vision, across the trees. Something just below the cliff… Was it some animal from the forest or perhaps…? 

“I’ll go.” 

“Okay… Be careful.” 

Sagittarius stepped forward in pursuit. Wary of any gunfire that might come its way, it cautiously peeked forward. 

“?What…?” 

“Second Lieutenant? Report accurately—” 

“It’s not a Legion. There’s nothing of the sort around here. But…” 

A feed of Sagittarius’s optical sensor was transferred to her via data link. The footage was zoomed in automatically, owing to Dustin’s gaze on it. It was a cliffside with a terrifying difference in elevation. The river was surging beneath it, and an imposing rock face, jagged due to being whittled by the glaciers for many years, loomed over from both sides. 

And scattered near the cliff face were… 

“Shells…?” 

They were 120 mm and 155 mm tank shells. Only the circular bottoms of the shells were peeking out, arranged in spaced-out rows, buried into the ground. Since they still had their gunpowder, they hadn’t been shot here as part of a test firing. Someone—likely the Legion—had buried it here for some purpose. But the moment she realized there was a string-like material attached to the fuse, Anju’s hair stood on end. This was… 

“Second Lieutenant Jaeger! Get down! Colonel, Shin, watch out!” 

She’d reconnected the Para-RAID and shouted a moment too late. Something moved in Sagittarius’s field of vision. A self-propelled mine that crawled through a gap in an uneven rock face recognized the presence of the Juggernaut, reached for the string—the fuse to the lined-up gunpowder—and held it close to its chest, stuffed as it was with high explosives. 

“There’s a trap in our path of retrea—” 

The self-propelled mine self-destructed, unleashing shock waves and a blinding flash. The fire ran along the wire and to the shells’ fuse, igniting and detonating them one after another. The strip of land they stood on—the frozen land of the conifer forest—collapsed within seconds. 

It seemed the water swept them away for quite a distance. 

They somehow managed to crawl up to a coast littered with fallen trees and sediment. As they opened their canopies, their Juggernauts were now half flooded. Anju looked over the rigs and sighed. 

“…Are you hurt, Second Lieutenant?” 

“I’m fine, one way or another.” 

It was a good thing they were piloting Reginleifs. With its design that cared little for the well-being of the pilot, the Republic’s aluminum coffin had a gap between the canopy and the frame, as if to mock the very idea of waterproofing. If they had been piloting Republic Juggernauts, they’d have drowned or frozen to death by now. 

Still, they weren’t completely dry when they crawled out of the water. The sun had set while they were unconscious, and though the snowfall had stopped, the air was getting colder. Anju stood in the frigid air, looking around while sweeping away her hair, which was so cold it felt as if it might freeze over. They had to find somewhere, anywhere, to take shelter from the wind. 

Having found a small log cabin situated at the riverside at the bottom of a steep ravine surrounded by cliffs, they decided to take refuge there. It was probably a hunting lodge or something of the sort. A place set up to spend multiple days hunting through the winter mountains, it seemed. 

The interior was a shabby but thankfully well-equipped single room, with a fireplace at the end of it. They were in luck. 

“So we wait here for help to arrive?” 

“We don’t have much of a choice. The Juggernauts are out of energy, and we can’t use the Para-RAID right now.” 

The temperature had fallen below zero, and RAID Devices were metallic. Touching them recklessly could cause frostbite. 

“We can stave off the wind and snow here. I don’t think we’ll freeze to death… However…” 

The thought of it made her sigh. Their cockpits had collapsible gunstock assault rifles, and they’d brought them along with the handguns in their holsters. 

“…self-propelled mines aside, if any other kind of Legion show up, we might be in trouble.” 

“They’re stranded.” 

“Seems like it.” 

It was a snowy mountain, albeit in summer, and they were a small number of isolated people. Not just Shin but even Vika, who usually remained composed in any situation to the point that it felt arrogant, had a severe expression on his face. 

They were in the Revich Citadel Base’s meeting room. They’d recognized that Anju and Dustin had gotten caught in the landslide, but they’d had to retreat to restock and out of concern for a counteroffensive from the Legion’s territories. This emergency meeting had been called as soon as they’d returned to base. 

Raiden, Theo, and Kurena were still in their armored flight suits and were prepared to set out and search for them as soon as their units were given the minimal amount of fuel and supplies. Lena’s anxious expression and the severe look in Vika’s eyes were because they realized the scope of the area from the terrain. They couldn’t pick up the Juggernauts’ signals from the depths of the ravine they’d plummeted into, and the Para-RAID wouldn’t connect. There was no way of confirming their survival at the moment. 

It was then that Frederica rose to her feet, scoffing with a look of indignation. 

“You lot seem to be forgetting something crucial, I believe. ’Tis at times like these that I show off my true worth.” 

“Your ability could let you see where they are!” said Lena when she realized. 

“Indeed. Leave it to me, Milizé. I shall find Anju and Dustin’s position within moments.” 

Puffing out her meager chest as much as she could, Frederica opened her “eyes.” 

However. 

“There, I found them! This is……………” 

She fell silent for a long time. 

“……………Where is this?!” 

Lena, who had been waiting with bated breath for Frederica to finish her statement, almost fell over from exasperation. Shin asked with a sigh, as if saying that he could see this coming, “Frederica, for now just tell us what you can see around them.” 

“Hmm…” 

Frederica seemed to be looking around earnestly. Her small head turned to and fro with her crimson eyes glowing faintly. 

“…I see snow! And mountains, too!” 

Well, yes. This was a snowy mountain, after all. 

“Can you see anything that sticks out, that could be a landmark?” 

“Hmm, uh, they’re in an old shack of some sort… There is a large tree to its right!” 

Well, yes. That would be there, too. 

Said shack was likely some sort of hunting lodge, but there were more than just a few of them in the area; it wasn’t much of a clue. 

“Can you see the stars?” 

“I can, but it, hmm, doesn’t really help me get a handle on their position…” 

Figures. 

“I guess you can’t really recognize the North Star… Think you could find it if I explained how?” 

“It’s…hmm… There are too many stars, I can’t really tell which is which…” 

So you’re practically useless. 

Though maybe it’s just natural she doesn’t know, thought Shin—who had experience fighting in the mountains, in the snow, and in ambushes and had even been separated from the group and stranded in the past. Getting your bearings was almost impossible on a snowy mountain. 

Incidentally, Vika had fallen over the table and had been twitching for a while now. Apparently, he’d been laughing so hard he couldn’t speak. 

“Roger. I guess we’ll have to look for them ourselves, the old-fashioned way.” 

“My apologies…” Frederica dropped her shoulders dejectedly. 

Shin patted her head in a completely unconscious gesture. 

“You told us they’re both fine and that you can see the stars… In other words, it’s bright out where they are. If there was a blizzard around them, we’d never find them.” 

“…Right.” 

Finally recovering from his fit of laughter, Vika rose to his feet, his eyes still full of tears. 

“That said, nights when the weather is bright are actually colder. They’ll be in trouble if we don’t hurry… We’ll send over people from our side, too. We have to find them as soon as we can.” 

They’d carried the survival kits from their cockpits into the lodge, using the waterproof matches and solid fuel inside to light the fireplace, leaving them with nothing more to do but wait. Having taken off the top of her wet flight suit and covered herself up with the blanket from the survival kit instead, Anju stared into the fire, which still hadn’t grown. 

Getting lost and stranded on the battlefield was a common occurrence in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, and so despite having hurried to find a place to take shelter, she wasn’t quite panicked or anxious. It was just… 

Anju grimaced. At the time…he was always there by her side, as he had been since the first squadron she’d been appointed to. And now he wasn’t. Now he wasn’t anywhere. 

“…Second Lieutenant Emma?” 

“It’s nothing… Oh, you can call me Anju. We’re the same age, right?” 

Dustin had also taken off his top and covered himself up with a blanket. His silver eyes reflected the flickering flame. The silver eyes of an Alba. If only her eyes were that color…she and her mother wouldn’t have had to be sent to the internment camps. The thought crossed her mind every so often when she looked at Dustin or Lena. 

She didn’t wish she could live within the walls as a white pig, and the comrades she’d met in the Eighty-Sixth Sector were irreplaceable to her. Yet, she couldn’t ever say that her being driven out to the internment camps and into the Eighty-Sixth Sector…had been a good thing. 

Her mother had looked almost entirely like an Adularia, and she’d tried her hardest to protect her daughter, who also was almost indistinguishable from the Adularia. But she’d ended up dying, ravaged by disease until she looked less like a woman and more like a tattered rag. 

And the words the man who was her father had said. The words that hadn’t faded to this day. 

“Can I ask?” 

The question slipped from her lips almost involuntarily. 

“Why did you volunteer for this unit?” 

He turned his silver eyes to her inquisitively. 

“I already told you my reason. The Republic needs to wash away its sins.” 

“I don’t think that’s the only reason.” 

He had all the reasons in the world not to fight. 

“…” 

Dustin fell silent as he gazed into the fire. And just as Anju was about ready to forget the question, he started speaking. 

“I’m an Alba, but I was born in the Empire.” 

Anju’s eyes widened with surprise. Dustin kept his gaze on the fire, not turning to look at her. 

“I moved with my parents to the Republic when I was too little to remember it, and then we got citizenship, so I don’t feel like I was ever part of the Empire. But originally, I was an Imperial.” 

“The place I lived in was a new town for first-generation immigrants. I was the only Alba in my elementary school, too. And then…the war with the Legion started, and everyone but me and my family was marked for the internment camps.” 

Dustin remembered it as he spoke. He’d thought everything had gotten noisy outside, but his mother, who had seen what was happening that night, told him he mustn’t look outside no matter what the next morning. And the next day, when he went to school as usual…he was the only student left. 

“It made no sense. Absolutely no sense. Look at Captain Nouzen—his parents were from the Empire, but he was born in the Republic. He was as much a descendant of the Empire as I was, but unlike me, he was born in the Republic…but they sent him to the internment camp and not me. It should have been the other way around. Their whole reasoning was that they were sending away people who came from the Empire, but it was just pretense. And it was just as true for everyone from school. It made no sense that I was the only one who stayed, that I was the only one who got to take refuge inside the walls.” 

All because Dustin and his family were Alba. 

“So this wasn’t someone else’s problem to me. I always thought they had to be stopped… But it was too late, and I couldn’t do anything in the end.” 

How long will this go on?! 

That was what he’d shouted on that day, during the valedictorian speech at the Republic’s founding celebration. On the eve of the festival, when none of the citizens had reacted to his words. The day the Legion had attacked and the Republic had perished. 

“…I see.” 

Burying her face in her knees, Anju said nothing more. And Dustin could sense that this was all she could say. 

Silence once again fell on the small hunting lodge sitting in the corner of the battlefield—a silence that was slightly more awkward than before. Incidentally, since it took time for the fireplace to light up properly, the air in the lodge was still cold. Hearing the small sound of a sneeze from beside him, Dustin turned his gaze to find his comrade rubbing her shoulders. Dustin took off his blanket and handed it to her. 

“Here.” 

As Anju simply blinked in amazement, he nudged it in her direction. 

“Have two of them. It’ll be better that way… A woman shouldn’t let her body get cold.” 

“…Thank you.” 

But she paused for a lengthy moment because her long bluish-silver hair was still wet and would moisten the blanket if she put it on as is. She tied her hair at the back of her head and coiled it up tightly, stopping it from flowing downward. As she lifted both hands, her blanket and the collar of her undershirt slipped down a bit. 

Dustin looked away in a hurry as the white of her skin, dazzling even in the dimness of the night, entered his field of vision, but then his breath caught as he also got a glimpse of the scar on her back. 

Whore’s daughter, it read. 

The question slipped off his tongue before he could stop it. 

“Don’t you want that removed?” 

The Republic had fairly advanced treatments for removing scars, and so did the Federacy. It might not be possible to completely erase it, but it could at least be made less conspicuous. 

Tracing Dustin’s gaze, Anju smiled faintly. It was a slightly unpleasant smile. 

“Oh. I’m sorry—it must look hideous.” 

“Ah, no, that’s not it…” 

He searched for a more delicate way to broach the subject. He opened his mouth while still in thought but couldn’t come up with anything, and eventually he simply said exactly what was on his mind. 

“It looks painful.” 

Anju’s expression suddenly shifted; she looked caught off guard. 

“I mean, it’s not like a scar that has sentimental value. So…you don’t have to force yourself to bear it.” 

Anju blinked a few times at his unexpected words and then slowly smiled. 

“…You’re right.” 

It was different from the scar on Shin’s neck, inflicted on him by his brother, which was important and precious enough that he would carry it even after slaying him, though he kept it hidden so no one would touch the mark of that sin… 

“Right. Maybe it’s time I had it removed. I’d like to wear open-back dresses.” 

Though she didn’t want to cut her hair. 

“And I kind of want to try wearing a bikini, too.” 

“A bikini…” 

Dustin’s expression stiffened, as if he’d just swallowed something solid. 

“Is there, um…anyone you’d like to see you in a bikini? Or…” 

Hearing that timid question put Anju in an impish mood. 

“Why do you ask…? What, Dustin, do you like me or something?” 

“Tha—” 

Dustin held his tongue for a moment and then spat the words out, half in desperation. 

“Y-yeah, I do! You got a problem with that?!” 

Anju had said it only to tease him, but she widened her eyes in surprise at his unexpected confirmation. 

“Huh…?” 

“I mean, of course I do. You’re pretty, and…and you always look out for me even though I’m an Alba. It’d be weirder if I didn’t start liking you.” 

Anju went redder and redder with every word that left his lips. She turned away, unable to look straight at him, but Dustin continued his brave confession. 

Just say it all. Take this chance and tell her everything, dammit! 

“From the moment I first saw you, I’ve admired the color of your eyes, so if you’re gonna wear a dress, I think it should match the color of your eyes.” 

With her face bright red, Anju hung her head in a fidgety fashion. 

“Um… I’m, uh, I’m honored…?” 

For some reason, her response came out as a question, which went to show how out of sorts she was. She buried her face in her knees to hide her blushing cheeks. 

“But…I can’t…I can’t fall in love anymore.” 

Something about her tone sounded as if she was rebuking herself. Dustin looked daunted, as if he’d been doused with cold water. 

“…Why?” 

“I loved someone once.” 

“Nng…” 

Loved. Past tense. And Anju was an Eighty-Six, which meant… 

“He was a sweet person. I loved him, all the way to the very end… And no matter who I fall in love with, I know I’d never forget him. I’d keep comparing others to him. And that would be wrong, so I can’t fall in love with anyone anymore.” 

Dustin turned his gaze to the burning fireplace again. 

“I…I think that’s wrong.” 

If nothing else, surely that. 

“It’s obvious that you wouldn’t forget about him. Especially if he was a good guy. And if you can’t forget, it’s natural you’d keep comparing other people to him. But I think not being with anyone because you can’t forget him… Because you’d keep comparing anyone you loved to him… That’s wrong. Because if you do that, you’ll…you’ll never be happy.” 

Feeling her azure eyes fixed on him at the edge of his vision, Dustin continued, intentionally gazing into the fire. If she couldn’t answer his feelings, then that would be that. But to bind herself into never loving someone again—into never knowing joy again—would be awful. 

“So…even if you can’t forget him…even as you remember him…I think you’re allowed to find new things to love… At the very least, I’d never expect you to forget him…” 

He looked back into her blue eyes, the color of the highest point in the heavens. 

“……I came to get you guys,” said Shin. “But it looks like I’m interrupting something.” 

Dustin and Anju bolted away from each other. Dustin slammed his head hard against a shelf attached to the wall, and Anju coiled the blankets she had drawn over her and turned away as she looked at him. 

“Sh-Shin?!” 

Shin stood at the entrance to the lodge, looking down at them with an incredibly cold glare Anju hadn’t seen him give in all the years she’d known him. He’d always had a habit of walking without making any sound. The small part of Anju’s thoughts that wasn’t running around in panicked circles made note of this. Apparently, that talent of his extended to other noises he made, too. Like opening doors. 

“You two look like you’re doing just fine. Sorry for ruining the mood.” 

“H-how long have you been there?!” 

Shin paused to think before answering. 

“Bikini.” 

“So you were here pretty much the whole time! Nooooooo!” 

Anju shrieked, cradling her head in despair. Leaving Anju to her agonizing, Shin turned to the door, looking up diagonally. His Juggernaut was sitting at the top of the cliff, and apparently he had used a wire to descend. 

“Fido, looks like they don’t need our help. Reel it up.” 

“Pi …? !” 

“Ah, wait, wait, wait, Shin! Don’t go! Help us!” 

Fido’s panicked beeping came at around the same time Anju desperately begged him to stay. They were still in the Legion-infested contested territory, and anyone would probably be a little pissed to find the friends they’d searched through the cold, dark night for indulging in carefree romance. 

Thankfully, Shin was only joking, and after he gestured something to the Scavenger with his hand, Fido dropped an object, which Shin then tossed in Anju’s direction: a military uniform sealed in waterproof vinyl packaging. Everyone else had probably been worried that the two of them would be cold and wet. 

“Thanks… Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” 

Fido then dropped another prepackaged uniform, but when Dustin reached out to accept it from Shin, he was instead forced back when it was slammed against his face. The bundle of clothes crossed the space between Shin and Dustin despite not traveling well through the air and slammed into him with a merciless, full-force pitch. 

Only raising his chest, Dustin moaned. 

“Hey, what gives?!” 

“That was from Daiya. If you make her cry, I’ll feed you to the Legion in his place.” 

That response, as neutral as Shin made it sound, caused Dustin to swallow any words of protest he may have had. It was the first time he’d heard the name. But judging by the situation, he obviously knew whom Shin was talking about. 

“—All right.” 

Anju, on the other hand, went red again at their exchange. 

“W-wait, Shin… I—I didn’t forget about Daiya or anything, and it’s not like I, um, fell in love with Dustin, so, um…” 

He may not have known her as long as Daiya had, but Shin had still spent a long time with Anju. He was like family to her. And while she didn’t really care what he thought of the current situation…she didn’t want him to think she was loose or fickle. 

As Anju panicked feverishly, Shin shrugged and turned around. 

“I don’t know about Dustin, and this isn’t something to talk about when he’s present to hear it… But it’s been two years since Daiya passed away. I don’t think he would’ve wanted you to stay chained up like this.” 

Those words made Anju break into a tearful smile. He was always so optimistic, so softhearted…so kind. 

“…You’re right. He probably wouldn’t have, but…but… 

…I can’t. Not yet.” 

As she whispered those last few words to herself and a tear slid down her cheek, Shin, who had turned his back, and Dustin gave her what little privacy they could afford. 

Incidentally, Shin had kept his wireless on the whole time, so everyone who was out on the search overheard the two’s conversation starting from the bikini part. After returning to base, Dustin was subjected to what felt like an endless stream of teasing by Raiden, Theo, Kurena, and Shiden. 

“…Snow Witch and Sagittarius were just recovered, too. They’ll be going into repair and maintenance as soon as they’re delivered back to base,” said Vika, relaying a report he’d likely just received via Para-RAID from the recovery team. 

“As a result of the maintenance required for the Reginleifs sent out to search for them, the Dragon Fang Mountain operation three days from now will probably be delayed by two to three hours.” 

Lena sighed in relief. 

“…Thank goodness. But I’m sorry…” 

“Don’t let it bother you. The operation is planned for three days from now. Two to three hours is within an acceptable margin of error… And now that they’re back, we know about the landslide trap. We’ve sent Sirins to investigate, and apparently the Legion have those set up at every possible route within the contested zones. Two of them are along the route the Strike Package would have taken during the operation.” 

Lena’s expression hardened. If they hadn’t noticed, the whole unit could have had its path of retreat cut off. Unlike a normal mine, this trap didn’t respond to heat, sound, or oscillation detection. It would be hard to find without triggering it. Those bombs were difficult to detect thanks to their being hidden under thick frozen rock, aiming to destroy not the Feldreß themselves but the terrain. The trap’s only flaw was that it required a self-propelled mine to trigger—and the Zentaurs made it easy enough to spread them out without anyone noticing. 

“Digging them all out would be difficult given the amount of time we have, so for the time being, they’re removing the strings and fuses and covering the whole trap in flame-retardant resin. It’s only a stopgap measure, but it should do for the operation’s duration.” 

“…Doesn’t it strike you as strange?” 

Vika’s violet eyes shone at Lena’s cautious utterance. 

“It does.” 

“These are contested zones where the forces of the United Kingdom and the Legion clash. Setting up traps along all the routes Feldreß would likely pass through is possible. But during today’s battle, the trap didn’t trigger until Second Lieutenant Emma noticed it. Which means…” 

They didn’t use those traps for disruption when Barushka Matushkas and Juggernauts entered and retreated via those routes… These weren’t traps set up to defend the area. 

It was as if… 

“…As if this was meant to lure our forces deep into the territories and trap them behind enemy lines.” 

“And the chilling of the weather using the Eintagsfliege might have been a part of that plan.” 

“…It’s possible. With them strangling us slowly like this, the United Kingdom military would have no choice but to mount a counteroffensive sooner or later. And we’d send in elites to do it, too. Now that the Legion have enough heads for their standard units, they would start seeking out better prey.” 

Vika then fell silent for a moment before shaking his head lightly. 

“—We need to make some preparations. I’ll reinforce our reserve residual forces, just in case the worst-case scenario hits. That way we’ll have someone to send over to rescue soldiers trapped on the battlefield.” 

He should have gotten used to it by now, but for some reason he had to gather much more courage than usual. Both to connect the Para-RAID and to say this one sentence. 

“Lena, could you come out with me for a bit?” 

Somehow, he’d silenced the bashful anxiety from his voice and feigned his usual tone, but he didn’t realize that he’d unconsciously done it, much less why he’d done it. 

The Revich Citadel Base’s observation tower was built over the remains of a castle tower dug into the mountain supporting the canopy covering the base. An overly steep, clockwise spiral staircase made up the long trip to the canopy, where there was an observatory for tracking the enemy’s movements. Standing at the top of the highest base in the region gave one the impression they were sitting on a swan’s back. 

At the circumference of the wings, antiair autocannons and antiground, antiair sensors were set up, cutting off the view of the night sky. Even this spot, elevated as it was with a distance of several hundred meters to the surface, didn’t allow one to see the ground unless they stood at the very edge of the canopy. 

Standing there as if floating in the night sky was Shin—who had called her here—clad in the Federacy’s standard-issue trench coat, waiting for her to arrive. It may have been late spring, but it was a snowy battlefield. Such a windy spot must have been very cold indeed. 

“And up… Oof…” 

Shin could hear the sound of the blast hatch leading to the inside of the observation tower opening with a small heave-ho, and the scent of violet flowers, which could never bloom in the snow, served as a precursor to her arrival. It was a scent he’d grown used to over the last two months… The scent of Lena’s perfume. 

“—Shin? Why did you call me all the way out here? Is anything wro—?” 

Lena’s question broke off, and Shin could hear her gasp even from a distance. A “Wow…” of amazement escaped her pink lips. She lifted her gaze up naturally, following that sight; countless stars filled the night sky, illuminating it with brilliant light. The sun that usually obfuscated them had sunk, and the night sky was clear of the Eintagsfliege’s silvery clouds. 

It was a dazzlingly beautiful starry night. 

Countless stars she didn’t know the names of were scattered about the velvety-black heavenly sphere like sparkling lights. A white galaxy and swirling nebulae filled the sky from one edge to the other in a slant. 

It was a night on a battlefield removed from human cities, thus lacking artificial light. The night sky was dark and black, which made the starlight and the luminescence of the snow stand out that much more. 

The light spilled faintly over the canopy, which retained its whiteness even after years of being scraped and eroded. A thin crescent moon lorded over the scene from near the sky’s zenith, looking down at them like a frigid queen. 

Bending her neck back as far as it would go in her attempt to look, Lena almost fell, so Shin caught her by the arm and had her grab onto the fence set up to prevent people from falling off the tower for support. Without even noticing what was happening, she simply staggered forward as he pulled her, the starlight reflecting off her silvery eyes. 

After standing dumbfounded for a few moments, she gave a small “Ah” and exclaimed with a sigh, “…It’s gorgeous!” 

“Yeah… You spoke about this with Kaie once, right? About how you can’t see the stars from the First Sector, so you wanted to see a starry sky.” 

Shin shrugged as she gazed back at him. 

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t arrange a meteor shower for you, but…I thought of this while we were looking for Anju and Dustin. The stars were so bright.” 

For Shin, the battlefield’s starry sky was a regular view, but he did remember the conversation Lena had had with Kaie back then. It was at the Eighty-Sixth Sector’s first ward’s first defensive unit’s old barracks… Back when they thought a time would never come when they’d be standing in the same place together. 

“So this is what you wanted to show me?” 

“Is this uncalled for?” 

“Not at all…” 

Laughing innocently, Lena turned her silver eyes to the starlit sky again. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, shimmering against the view. When she’d left the Republic, it had been early spring, so she hadn’t taken her official winter gear with her. Clad in a Federacy trench coat, she smiled as she recalled how quick her dispatch had been. 

“This was definitely one of the nice things about living in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, right?” 

Lena smiled, reminiscing on the words that Eighty-Six girl—who was now gone—had told her two years ago. She had always thought the Eighty-Sixth Sector was hell on earth, a battlefield only the Eighty-Six were pushed onto. And she’d never thought she’d come to hear those very same trapped souls say that there were good things to be found there. 

Even though she wasn’t in the same place as them. Even though she didn’t know their faces or even their names at the time. 

She sneaked a glance at Shin, who was also looking up at the sky silently, in contemplation of something. It was hidden behind the tall collar of his coat so she couldn’t see it right now…but the decapitation-like scar was still there. 

Lena had never asked him about the origins of that scar. She didn’t know Shin well enough, and judging from how she didn’t intend to ask and how he wouldn’t speak of it himself, the distance between them was likely still considerable. They were at the same place, standing on the same battlefield…but that distance remained. 

Well, you’ve only just met him. 

It was like Grethe said. They’d only just met, and they’d only recently learned each other’s names…and finally, each other’s faces. But she still thought, somewhere in her heart, that they understood each other on a deeper level. As she looked up, she called to him. 

“Shin.” 

“Lena.” 

Somehow, they called each other’s names at the exact same time. 

For a moment, they both stumbled over how to continue. Neither could decide how to react to the other, and an awkward silence fell over the starlit observatory. Shin recovered first and said, “…Go ahead.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

Since the wind had been taken out of her sails, she had to muster up the courage to speak again. 

“…About what happened back then.” 

She could faintly feel his guard going up. Apparently, that argument had gotten to Shin. Somehow relieved by that fact, Lena pressed forward. 

“I’m sorry. I went a little too far.” 

“…It’s all right.” 

“But I really am sad. That’s one thing I won’t take back. You all left the Eighty-Sixth Sector and were set free from that fate of certain death. Or rather, you should have been—but you’ve only just been set free.” 

They’d finally escaped the battlefield where their only freedom had been to decide where and how they’d die—but they were still standing on that same battlefield. To say that fighting to the bitter end was their pride was, indeed, the only identity they could cling to. And now that they were free to wish for more, they simply didn’t. 

They could go anywhere. They could become anything they wanted. They were free. 

But they still couldn’t find it in themselves to think of their own futures. 

“The things that were taken from you are still lost, so you won’t wish for the same things in the future. You can’t tell which future you should aspire for. And that thought… It makes me sad.” 

You’re allowed to wish for your happiness now. You’re allowed to remember the things that were stolen from you. 

Just like Vika, Shiden, and even Grethe had once said, telling the Eighty-Six to wish for those things when it was her side that took them away to begin with was incredibly arrogant of her. 

It was like telling them that she opened the door to their cage, so they should come out. That they were free to go wherever they wanted…so she wanted them to come to her. 

But Lena continued. And looking back, she realized those were words she should have told him last time. 

“I think the reason you all gave up on the world is because you’re all just…that kind.” 

“…Kind?” 

“Yes.” 

“Just as you said, I honestly… Yes, I honestly don’t care for the Republic or the Federacy… I don’t think you can call that kindness.” 

But Lena found herself smiling. She didn’t think it was possible, but… 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, Shin… You’re a good, kind person. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have carried the memories of all those people who died with you. You wouldn’t have tried to free your brother, Kaie, and all the comrades who were stolen from the Legion.” 

“………” 

“You are a kind human being. And so are Raiden and Theo, Kurena and Anju and Shiden, and all the other Eighty-Six. Because choosing to hate would have been that much easier. It really was the Republic’s fault, so pinning all the blame on them and hating them would have been so much simpler. And still, you all…tore into your own hearts. You scarred yourselves so you wouldn’t have to condemn the rest of the world.” 

With their own hands, they’d shed the memories of happiness, reducing them to dust. 

“…Because cursing it all would have meant losing everything.” 

Even the last remaining bit of pride they had. 

“Yes. For you, those very scars were your pride.” 

No matter how much would be taken from them and how hard they might be trampled, their sole pride was to never become as despicable as their oppressors. 

“And I’m not telling you to lose those scars. But…I want to see your kindness rewarded,” said Lena as if speaking to herself as Shin looked up at the starry sky. As if challenging the harsh world, which didn’t allow for people’s lives. As if proclaiming: 

“Those who are kind are entitled to be happy. Those who are just ought to be rewarded. And if the human world isn’t made that way right now, then I want it to be that way… Because that’s how people make their ideals a reality—little by little.” 

May this world be a just, kind place. One day. 

Shin remained silent at those songlike words of proclamation. It was an ideal that could never come to pass. It was just a wish, a pipe dream that reality would never allow to come true, its beauty being its sole saving grace. 

But even though that was his opinion, and as easy as it would have been to disregard what Lena had said, for some reason he couldn’t put those thoughts into words. 

The sea. 

The words he’d said six months ago in that snowy military graveyard surfaced in his mind. He wanted to show her. Show her all the things they couldn’t see now. That was his reason for fighting now. And now, even knowing that the world Lena wished to see was one that didn’t and wouldn’t exist anywhere, Shin couldn’t bring himself to deny it. 

“I’m sorry. I steered this conversation in a weird direction. You were trying to say something, too, weren’t you…?” 

“………Yeah…” 

With the wind taken out of his sails, he had to drum up the courage to bring it up again. Right, what was it that he’d called her here to say? Before they set out for the Dragon Fang Mountain operation—before they found out if the information they’d glean at the end of this operation would change everything for better or worse. 

“Lena, if the Federacy and the United Kingdom suspect the Merciless Queen is Major Zelene Birkenbaum, and she knows some method of stopping the war…” 

And that likely wouldn’t happen. Contrary to his words, Shin held no such expectations of Zelene. The war likely wouldn’t end. But if it could… 

“If this war really is going to end…when that happens—” 

Suddenly, his words cut off. 

Let’s go to the sea. If possible, let’s go and see something we’ve never seen before. Together. 

He thought to say it. He’d heard Lena say that she wanted to see the ocean, but he’d never relayed those words to her. He wanted to tell her. And that alone could never be a lie. 

I want to show you the sea. That’s my reason for fighting now. 

But just as he was about to say it…self-doubt rose from his heart like soap bubbles freezing in his throat. 

I want to show you the sea. Not a battlefield where I die without truly accomplishing anything. I want to show you something other than this world, ravaged as it is by the fires of war. I can finally wish for this. 

But then what …? 

What comes after I show her the sea? What would Lena wish for then? What would she let me wish for then? And how long would it last? 

Shin himself didn’t wish to see the sea. That hadn’t changed. There was nothing he wanted for himself. And the emptiness of that was incomprehensible to him. He reflexively stopped thinking about it, but the doubt lingered. 

To fight is the pride of the Eighty-Six. But if that was the case, if they were to fight on and survive…