86 - Volume 6 - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 

IN HIS HEAVEN 

The Merciless Queen sighed at the footage she received from the enemy lines. One group of units acted arbitrarily, which was brought upon by the Phönix’s rampage. What were they thinking, ignoring orders? 

She gave no orders to attack the enemy’s command center. Destroying that would achieve nothing at this point. The enemy had infiltrated the Dragon Fang Mountain, sending just an advance force that was effectively isolated in the middle of enemy territory and only good for subterfuge. 

She let the advance force penetrate almost all the way to her personal dwelling, but it was all just a setup. She had successfully separated a detachment of elites from the United Kingdom’s main force, effectively laying them down neatly for slaughter. Had her troops acted as she’d ordered, they would have been able to cut off the enemy’s avenue of escape and crush them more effectively. 

If the armored unit hadn’t acted on its own and opened a hole in their formation, the United Kingdom military wouldn’t have been able to act even if her troops cut off the advance force’s escape route. And after destroying the advance force, the United Kingdom would’ve been out of options. 

If the United Kingdom had the population and national power the Federacy was graced with, they would have sent a larger force to support the advance force. But the United Kingdom could no longer afford to do that. Even with the existence of their country hanging in the balance, the most they could do to help out the advance force was launch the ammunition they had hoarded away in their warehouses and send their half-autonomous drones on a suicide mission. 

Once the advance force was destroyed, all the Legion would have to do was wait for the Eintagsfliege to suffocate the United Kingdom or simply send large numbers of Dinosauria to break through the United Kingdom’s ranks with brute force. And yet her units went ahead and did something so unnecessary. 

The Legion couldn’t disobey a Supreme Commander unit’s orders, and the Phönix was under her command. If she was to order it to return to her side, it would have no choice but to oblige. But she actively chose to overlook its rampage. 

Earlier, the Phönix had achieved the objective it was designed and produced to meet. All the information they were supposed to collect from that unit had already been gathered. There was no more need for that “new type.” And so she had thought it would be fine to let it do as it pleased, one last time. 

I did order it to be the strongest. To never lose in combat, to always learn, develop, and evolve itself… Even though that was never the Phönix’s true objective. 

Michihi, who was in charge of securing the blockade outside the Dragon Fang Mountain base along with Bernholdt, Resonated with Shin. 

“Captain Nouzen! One enemy unit detected on the radar… It’s the Phönix!” 

“It’s coming… It should have lost its liquid armor in the battle at the command center, but we can’t let our guard down until we confirm that.” 

After defeating the Dinosauria, the Spearhead squadron continued their advance through the corridors leading to the Merciless Queen’s Throne Room. The Merciless Queen still showed no signs of fleeing. Following its cold voice to the end of the road, Shin operated Undertaker at the head of their column. 

This corridor was once a volcanic tunnel, and its outer circumference was roundish. During some eruption ages ago, this tunnel had been closed shut by hardened magma. The rocky ceiling had apparently crumbled with time, and so they had a view of the center of the tunnel, which was dotted with boulders as large as buildings and countless jagged cross sections. 

They traveled down the tunnel, which was built like a spiral staircase around a massive, oddly shaped spire of rock. The spire resembled the fossilized form of some giant, draconic, primal beast. 

There was probably a crevice that connected to the mountain’s surface somewhere, since faint light was streaming down on them from the top of the spire. The temperature in this tunnel was much more manageable, which meant cold air was probably flowing in from another location. 

“Take it out, if possible. But don’t do anything reckless. If you think any attempts would make maintaining the blockade difficult, let it go through.” 

If they were to engage the Phönix, there was a chance they would suffer losses or even be wiped out. And at that point, the troops inside the facility would be trapped without a way back. They were in the middle of the Legion’s territory, and there were Legion forces outside the Dragon Fang Mountain base. Michihi likely realized this, because Shin could sense her frown through the Resonance. 

“We can do without that consideration, Captain. I know I might look like a baby bird to you, but I’m a Name Bearer, too…!” 

“Tch! No, missy, you got that wrong!” 

Bernholdt cut her off, swallowing nervously. His voice was thick with tension. 

“That fucker ain’t after us…! Captain!” 

Footage data wasn’t usually shared between Juggernauts, since the volume of data taxed the system, and they currently needed to use a relay to maintain wireless communications with their outside forces. But still, Shin’s ability allowed him to hear enough of what went on outside to get a grasp on the situation. 

The Phönix had probably jumped. It leaped high, right in front of Michihi and Bernholdt. Like a snow leopard using a rock face as its hunting ground, it sprinted upward, its speed unimpeded. It then jumped again but disappeared in midair. It had likely abandoned its bestial fuselage and split itself into the form of silvery butterflies. 

Apparently, there was an entrance into the mountain near the top…which was perhaps something they should have guessed and expected. This base served as a supply depot for the Eintagsfliege, which were constantly airborne. Meaning the Legion had likely created an entrance leading out to the sky somewhere in the name of efficiency. 

“It’s presumed to be in pursuit of the Spearhead squadron. Estimated arrival time…three hundred seconds if it takes the shortest route!” 

“…Well—” 

The former report was probably right. But the latter one… 

“—I’m not so sure about that.” 

A whisper-like scream, reminiscent of the sound of butterfly wings, gathered near them. The pitch of an almost indiscernible, mechanical voice’s wail grew louder in his ears. And suddenly, his radar picked up the presence of the Phönix. 

It was above the Spearhead squadron. Watching through his unit’s optical sensor as the silver shadow plunged down toward them with the rock face at its back, Shin confirmed that his automatic aim’s reticle had locked onto it and pulled the trigger. 

The Phönix was greeted by the booming sound of a cannon shot that reverberated through the closed space of the volcanic tunnel. The HEAT missile flew forward, apparently moments away from piercing through the silver frame. 

The Phönix probably intended for this to be a surprise attack, but that was meaningless against Shin. He was capable of predicting where the enemy would be. And he knew the Phönix was capable of surviving a damaged fuselage by turning into Liquid Micromachine butterflies and switching over to a brand-new shell. After all, the Phönix’s true form was the Liquid Micromachines that comprised its central processor. 

To that end, it didn’t have to go through a path occupied by the Strike Package and needlessly fight when it was already damaged. It would be much faster for it to turn into a swarm of butterflies, infiltrate the base through a small gap, and don a new unit and liquid armor. 

And all armored ground weapons, ever since the treadmill-type tanks of old, had their weakest, most vulnerable point located at the top of their turrets. And so Shin knew if it would attack them, it would try to strike them down from above. 

The Phönix was plummeting down, and the rocket was hurtling toward it. The Phönix then brandished its winglike chain blades once, stabbing them into the cliff-face. This made it brake, and its animallike form swung like a pendulum due to the inertia, landing with an arc against the wall. 

The timed fuse on the HEAT missile detonated after a delay. By then, the Phönix had kicked off the wall, evading the lethal effective radius of the blast… This had happened often enough that Shin didn’t expect to hit this unit, but its reaction speed was still irritating. 

Shin noted the liquid armor around its body seemed even thicker than before. Apparently, the sheer amount of liquid armor it had now was greater. Perhaps it simply wanted its armor to be thicker, or maybe it intended to use the dummy it’d used against Lena’s group on this battlefield, too. 

Everyone in the squadron realized that the one ambushing them was the Phönix. Just like in the Revich Citadel Base, everyone spread out with the intent of surrounding and overwhelming it with a barrage of gunfire. They positioned themselves so they wouldn’t hit one another, while remaining outside the range of the Phönix’s weapons, and prepared to shower it with shells. 

The Scavengers and self-destructing Alkonosts moved back to a position where they wouldn’t get in the way. The sound of someone breathing deeply echoed over the Resonance. 

The Phönix began falling toward the center of their encirclement. Even it couldn’t hope to change trajectory in midfall, and gravity pulled it down into the open maw of the trap below. The Eintagsfliege activated its optical camouflage, which sparkled like powder snow, or like shards of stars, and hid the Phönix’s silver form from both human eyesight and the radar’s detection. 

That seemed odd to Shin. What was the point of using its optical camouflage now? Hiding itself at this juncture made no sense. It couldn’t change its falling trajectory, so they would aim for its landing point. What was it trying to hide, then? Maybe it was something that would become clearer the longer they fought. Perhaps this something was what allowed the Phönix to maintain the element of surprise… 

It’s prepping a ranged weapon…! 

“All units, take cover! It’s gonna shoot…!” 

It had shown itself capable of forming ranged weapons out of its liquid armor back in the Revich Citadel Base battle. It was only capable of staggering a unit at best even if fired at point-blank, but Shin still chose to err on the side of caution and had all his units move away. But the form he’d seen in the moment it tried to ambush them—that excessive amount of liquid armor… 

The Eintagsfliege’s optical camouflage was damaged in a way that seemed odd to Shin. It was silently torn away, and from the gap that formed, silver comets burst out. They were massive projectiles, like bolts fired from a ballista, a siege weapon used in ancient times. They were like crystalline needles, a shower of metallic thorns that shot toward every Feldreß in sight. 

Only a small force of Legion had moved out of formation, and their reserve formation was still in a state of confusion from the Phönix’s attack. No, the Legion force had attacked because their formation was confused. 

That attack was, apparently, not part of the Legion’s plans, either. One unit had apparently acted of its own accord, it seemed. It wasn’t done in tandem with the Phönix’s raid or with the rest of the units standing guard. 

But the sheer number of Dinosauria in that unit was a pain to deal with. The Brísingamen squadron was left behind to guard the command center, along with the remaining fire-control team’s Juggernauts. Lena clenched her teeth in frustration as she took command of the situation from within Vanadis. 

She didn’t think a heavy armored force of Dinosauria and Löwe, which should have been preserved to break through the United Kingdom’s defensive lines, would attack them now. The Legion’s numbers weren’t quite as large as a full, armored battalion, but they still streamed down the mountain like a landslide. 

They stomped their way through the patrol line, and the enemy vanguard was already attacking the rear of the defensive formation, where Lena was. The battlefield was in a state of chaos, making it hard to discern between friend and foe. 

The defensive formation had been built up carefully on heightened ground, so as to ensure the defending side would have the advantage in a confrontation between armored weapons. And even still, things were brutal. 

Vanadis wasn’t capable of battle per se, but it could at least fire its fixed gun. Marcel’s injuries made it so he couldn’t handle full-on combat maneuvers, but he could use his Feldreß’s turret. To that end, he disembarked from Vanadis and joined his group, attacking repeatedly until the barrel threatened to burst. 

Lena gritted her teeth as the howitzer fire, shot diagonally, was repelled by the Dinosauria’s persistent horizontal fire. 

This situation…might be really bad. 

“Kch…?!” 

The aim of the Phönix’s projectiles wasn’t as accurate as a tank turret firing with the assistance of a weapon-control system, and everyone piloting a Juggernaut in the vicinity was a skilled Name Bearer. They all reacted to the warning and performed evasive measures, so none of their cockpits were hit. 

But some of them took damage to their power systems, their cannons’ barrels, or their leg parts. Others had their armor completely bent from taking a blow from the massive kinetic energy of the shot, which traveled faster than the speed of sound. Some Alkonosts, which were overall less organized and less trained than the Eighty-Six were, had their cockpits blown clean off from a direct hit. 

Undertaker was the only one who hadn’t been aimed at by the shot. Shin was left speechless at the nightmarish sight. It wasn’t that they weren’t wary of a potential ranged shot. This was a closed space, but it was fairly wide, and everyone stood outside the effective range of the attack the Phönix showed at the Revich Citadel Base. 

But the range of that attack had been temporarily extended and granted enough force to knock a Juggernaut out of commission… 

The Phönix landed with the silent movement unique to the Legion, shards of broken butterfly wings piling up at its feet. The few Eintagsfliege that did survive floated around it, their wings either unhurt or slightly charred at the rims. 

The Phönix revealed itself, its black frame unevenly dotted with flecks of silver. The thick, wing-shaped liquid armor that coated its body was mostly gone. What little liquid armor remained on its fuselage crackled with visible electric currents, which made it clear that it had used electromagnetic force to accelerate its previous shot. 

Shin realized the shots it fired were made from the thick liquid armor it wore. When an armor-piercing round was launched, it relied on its kinetic energy to make an impact. And while the Phönix lacked the speed a tank turret could produce, it’d used a quasi-electromagnetic catapult to heighten the force of the shot. 

All to completely tear through their encirclement net with a single blow. 

The Phönix suddenly shook itself, forcing the makeshift rails it formed from its liquid armor to fall off its animallike body. The splashes of silver sprayed over the rock surface, reflecting the faint sunlight. It lifted its optical sensor like an animal raising its head and stared fixedly at Undertaker. 

The sensor was a cold shade of blue and full of clear, palpable obsession. Obsession with Undertaker…or perhaps with Shin, who sat inside it. It was the same way it’d looked at him when the Revich Citadel Base battle had ended. When it had been reduced to a flurry of butterflies and stood at the Merciless Queen’s side. 

It was a gaze that seemed unfitting for a heartless killing machine that was supposed to massacre its targets as a matter of task, without any hint of hatred or elation. 

The next moment, its black form lunged at Undertaker. 

“Tch…!” 

He couldn’t fight it here. One wrong move, and his shots could end up hitting one of his comrades. Undertaker took off down the passage, hoping to shake its pursuer off. The Phönix took off after it. As his comrades’ units were getting farther away, Shin turned a single glance toward Raiden’s and Theo’s Juggernauts. 

Their units’ legs were jerking with twitching motions, but they weren’t dead. The Para-RAID was still connected to them. He could even faintly hear someone breathe a cuss into the Resonance. 

He had to keep the Phönix occupied until they recovered and then fight it with their help. No… It might judge them a nuisance and turn around to finish them off while they still couldn’t move. He couldn’t let that happen… No matter what. 

“…Sorry.” 

They’d likely… No, they’d definitely get mad at him for this, or so Shin thought as he had Undertaker leap back. Raiden and Theo and his other squad mates present, and also Anju and Kurena, who weren’t, would be really upset. 

And so would Lena. 

“Come back. At all costs.” 

Yes, I’ll come back. I have to. But you have to forgive me for this one. 

Uttering that silent prayer, Shin moved Undertaker back. The Juggernaut’s white frame hid behind one of the rock formations in the center of the passage, moving out of sight. The Phönix raised its multiple chain blades in acknowledgment, its delicate blades vibrating as they whirred into operation. 

The blades raised a keen screech reminiscent of a woman’s scream, and the elongated weapons stabbed into the massive rock spires standing at the Phönix’s sides. Cut and severed at the bottom, the rock formations crumbled and collapsed. A massive amount of rock sealed the path behind the Phönix. 

As if it to say it would let no one get in their way. 

It was at the bottom of the volcanic tunnel—the opening from which the magma would rise to the surface, had it not been clogged ages ago. Sunlight shone down from a hole in the rock hundreds of meters above, filtered by a layer of silver wings. But that light could do little to illuminate the large space, which was wide enough to contain the entire Imperial villa. 

This was where the central processor of the Admiral—the generator unit powering this production base—was placed. Where hundreds of millions of Eintagsfliege gorged themselves on its energy. Thin, electromagnetic-induced charging units were stretched out across this space like metallic tree branches. They were all coated by countless silver butterflies, which sat upon it like foliage. 

At the very back of the chamber was the control kernel of the Admiral, sitting there like the carcass of an ancient dragon king that had been assimilated into its very throne. It was being waited upon by a large number of maintenance devices, which buzzed and whirled around it. 

But right now, all this was currently burning as Vika glared down at the chamber. The charging units, the Eintagsfliege, the maintenance machines… They were all equally burning. All the units in this chamber were unarmed support types, which easily crumbled when attacked. 

The silver butterflies fluttered about boisterously as their brittle wings burned, flying off into the sky like embers but crumbling to dust before they could get far. But the actual Admiral was different. Perhaps owing to its massive size, its optical sensor swerved as if struggling while the fire overtook it, eventually focusing on Vika’s Gadyuka. 

Faced with a gaze pulsating with artificial hatred, Vika scoffed. 

“…Were I that Reaper, perhaps I’d be able to know who you once were and grieve your passing.” 

But sadly, the capacity to weep for the death of a person I’ve never met is a level of sympathy I’ve long since lost. 

Watching over the scene of this cremation, Vika turned his back to this sight with even more coldheartedness than the Alkonosts escorting him. All their objectives in this sector were complete. All that remained was… 

“All units, the Admiral’s destruction is confirmed. All Alkonost units are in position. We’re ready on our side. How are things on your end?” 

An immediate response arrived from Yuuto of the Thunderbolt squadron, sent to suppress the Weisel—and Rito of the Claymore squadron, sent to destroy the generator facilities. 

“Second Lieutenant Crow speaking. We’ve successfully gained control of the Weisel.” 

“We’re currently destroying the generator facilities. Our Alkonosts are moving into position.” 

But Shin didn’t respond. Vika furrowed his brows in suspicion. He then switched his Para-RAID target to the rest of the Spearhead squadron and repeated his question. 

“Nouzen? Can you hear me? Please respond; what’s your status?” 

This time, he got an immediate response. It wasn’t from Shin, though, but from Raiden. 

“Your Highness… It’s Shuga. Shin’s not here, so I’m answering in his stead.” 

“Sorry, but we still haven’t met our objective. We haven’t found the Merciless Queen yet… And Shin’s apparently fighting the Phönix right now.” 

Raiden bitterly continued his report from within Wehrwolf’s cockpit, which felt more cramped than before now that its armor had been bent out of shape. The Phönix’s projectile may have had a large mass and moved at high speed, but it lacked the force of a tank shell. The impact stopped Raiden’s Juggernaut from moving for a moment, but the damage didn’t impede his ability to continue the operation. 

All the Juggernauts were still able to keep going, as were most of the Alkonosts, with the exception of a few that were blown away. Judging from his tone, the disgustingly wise prince had probably grasped the situation. He asked Raiden a question in a tense voice. 

“It split you up, didn’t it?” 

“Yeah. We’re searching for Shin now.” 

Raiden turned his gaze to the bottom of the corridor, which was currently partially caved in by massive rocks. There was a bit of an opening at the top of the rock formation, so it wasn’t completely impassible, but since it had crumbled at a mostly perpendicular angle, the rubble was unstable, making passing through it difficult. As such, it became an obstacle in their path. 

Shin and the Phönix were past this tunnel right now. They couldn’t hear the sounds of any fighting, so both had probably moved away already, but they saw them advance down the corridor as they lay still earlier. The rock spires then collapsed, leading to this situation. 

Theo remained silently connected to the Para-RAID, but Raiden could tell through the Resonance that he was beside himself with concern. Laughing Fox’s optical sensor was moving about nervously. The Scavengers all stood in an orderly fashion, with the exception of Fido, which was wobbling back and forth with concerned steps. 

No. 

Raiden frowned bitterly. Shin hadn’t been chased off. He had willingly moved away from this position to face the Phönix one-on-one… All so Raiden and the others wouldn’t be caught up in the fight. To protect them after they were shamefully beaten by the Phönix. 

That idiot… 

Raiden forcibly cheered himself up by thinking about finding Shin and smacking him senseless. But right now, they needed to go to his aid. The Alkonosts were currently investigating the nearby passages in an attempt to find a way around the rocks. 

Their objective, the Merciless Queen, would likely also be at the end of this passage. But so long as they didn’t have a functional map, they couldn’t hope to find it. 

Vika seemingly suppressed the urge to click his tongue. 

“Understood. We’ll wait for as long as we can.” 

They needed Shin’s ability if they were to find the Merciless Queen, but the mission’s top priority was still the destruction of this base. 

“Thanks.” 

“Don’t worry about it. In operations like this one, unpredictability is an inevitability. Racking one’s mind over how to overcome that is a commander’s job. It’s nothing you need to fret over…” 

“…Raiden.” 

Raiden raised his head at Theo’s call. 

“Down there, in the shadow by the rocks… What’s it doing there?” 

Theo spoke, gazing fixedly at where his Laughing Fox’s optical sensor was turned. Raiden doubtfully turned his own unit in that direction and found… 

“What…?!” 

…a lone Ameise unit, its armor as white as moonlight. It stood in front of the rock wall where the corridor split. Though it was beneath them, it gazed up at them like a queen lording over and looking down upon her subjects. Its round, full-moon-like optical sensor shone yellow with a coldness that felt eerily human. 

It lacked the 7.62 mm all-purpose machine gun and 14 mm heavy machine gun the Ameise were usually equipped with. It lacked armaments to an unacceptable extent for a frontline unit, as if out of arrogance. And etched upon its armor was the Personal Mark of a goddess leaning against a crescent moon. 

The Merciless Queen. 

Not just Raiden and Theo, but the rest of their squad mates and the Sirins all fell silent. The same question was on everyone’s minds. 

What…is it doing here…? 

The Merciless Queen suddenly looked away and turned around, walking off with the silent footsteps so characteristic of the Legion… Except it also moved at the leisurely pace of a lady enjoying a stroll, which was entirely unlike the Legion. It strode across the stone wall, and into one of the corridors that branched off, disappearing down the passage. 

It was as if it was beckoning them to follow. Mocking them. Raiden’s eyes widened in surprise. 

How did it get here…?! 

“Let’s go after it.” 

“Raiden! But what about finding Shin?!” 

“That thing’s chamber should be beyond that wall.” 

Theo was astonished. They originally went down this passage to find the Merciless Queen. Below this location was the sector they dubbed the Throne Room, and Shin said the Merciless Queen hadn’t escaped. Which meant even while they were fighting the Phönix, it should have still been down there. 

But somehow, that same Merciless Queen had traversed the rubble and was now before them. There was no real proof, but…this was likely the best lead they had. 

“The path she took is a detour!” 

It’s one thing after another… 

Turning off the Para-RAID for a moment, Vika finally clicked his tongue in frustration. Fighting had broken out around Lena’s command center and the reserve formation, and now Shin was missing. 

Lerche, who had been listening in, called out to him. 

“…Your Highness… About what Sir Wehrwolf just said.” 

Vika couldn’t help but snicker at her imploring tone. 

“I already told you, Lerche. I never included obeying me as part of your initial orders. Why do you think I did that?” 

He could sense her lips curling into a smile. Even without her memories, she was as obedient and frank as Lerchenlied ever was. 

“My thanks… Your Highness, please allow me to join the search for Sir Reaper. The more time passes by…the more danger his body is exposed to.” 

“Yes… We’re done capturing this area, so we should have some idle troops. Take them along.” 

Shin had found himself driven into what was likely the deepest reaches of the Dragon Fang Mountain’s rock tunnels. It was a completely closed-off place that should have been covered by sheer darkness. And yet this large space was bright enough for Shin to see through it unassisted. 

It was awash with dazzling red light. Shin looked around the chamber he’d been driven into, standing in the crimson gleam that seemed to be refracted off the rocks due to the sheer temperature. The air itself appeared to glow red. 

His Juggernaut’s optical footage automatically switched over from night vision to standard mode. What his screen was displaying now, however, wasn’t the actual amount of light outside. The support computer automatically cut out the level of light it judged would be harmful for effective piloting and corrected the footage accordingly. 

The source of that light was right below the perpendicular rock footing Shin was standing on. A deep-red light emanated from below, at a depth that would be fatal if one were to fall into it. 

Magma. 

A crucible of radiant molten magma, which at times surged up like glowing red waves. The magma sizzled at extremely high temperatures, and it was in a liquid state with low viscosity. It filled the bottom of this vast cave like some kind of underground lake. 

Even at this distance, the magma’s glowing heat caused his unit’s temperature to spike. The tips of one of his unit’s metallic legs kicked up a crumbling pebble, which tumbled down the pit and into the crimson liquid’s surface. In the blink of an eye, it caught fire and melted away. 

The large cave’s canopy was spacious enough to shelter a skyscraper. At the end of this chamber was a near-vertical wall, which stood like a rampart, with the magma lake forming a semicircle around its base. The upper end of that wall connected with the dome-like ceiling of the cave. At the topmost section of the cave was an opening connecting to the outside. Long ago, that hole had likely led to the volcanic crater at the mountain’s peak. 

Countless stepping stones dotted the magma lake, and Shin and the Phönix unsteadily stood on two of them. They faced off while standing on the widest footing in the cave, located closest to the large stone wall. It had an oblong shape that bore an eerie resemblance to a guillotine, with cliffs cut out on all four sides of it. It seemed like, long ago, the top of this section had been cut horizontally and slid off, forming an exceptionally flat and level platform wide enough to contain a city’s plaza. 

Shin had been chased into this chamber and had to cross a path that grew far narrower than the entrance—though still wide enough for a Löwe to cross—that led to this guillotine-like platform. It felt reminiscent of a staircase a condemned criminal would climb on their way to the gallows. 

The Phönix towered over Shin with its back to that road, as if to silently profess that it would not let him escape. 

“………” 

At Lena’s orders, Shin had memorized the three-dimensional map the best he could. But this passage wasn’t registered anywhere on the map. It was made using Shin’s ability, which only picked up the Legion’s path. Any areas the Legion didn’t use were effectively blanks on that map. 

And since this cave was outside the operation area, Shin didn’t have any friendly forces in the vicinity. Likewise, the Legion seldom passed through this area. Judging from the faint multi-legged tracks and the empty container left lying in the corner of the guillotine platform’s rim, they likely used the magma lake as a waste-processing site. 

And the Phönix had intentionally cornered Shin in this place. 

“…You must be really dead set on settling this with a duel.” 

The Legion weren’t made to have any concepts of glory or honor, but it wasn’t impossible. Shin, at least, knew it could happen. Two years ago, during the special reconnaissance mission, he’d seen a Shepherd blast one of its own comrades to pieces out of a desire to keep others from interfering with its duel. At the time, that Dinosauria—or rather, his brother’s ghost, which resided within it—was obsessed with killing Shin. 

And so even this Legion, which didn’t harbor any such thoughts or any parts that stemmed from a human origin—built to avoid the same issues as Shepherds, which could be misled by the thoughts of the neural networks they assimilated—acted in this way. 

The Phönix stirred, its black fuselage rising up. It raised its two front legs while its hind legs remained on the ground. At the same time, some of the armor and frame surrounding its front legs deployed and changed shape. Its front legs folded up, and their surplus parts turned into extra armor that protected its flank. 

The shaft section of its front legs elongated, and the part that corresponded to its heel stuck out. The sharp tip of the shaft gouged into the surface of the rock. Its back and head bent backward, but it was not standing upright. Its center of gravity remained in the front of its form, leaving it in a forward-bent posture reminiscent of a prowling predator. 

The end result was something that resembled a small theropod dinosaur—a Deinonychus. Its chain blades flowed backward, forming a tail that kept it balanced and something that was like a plume or a mane across its back. It was the ferocious shape of a nimble, primal predator. 

No… There was something about the way it stepped over the ground on two legs, and the way its hands were too long for a dinosaur. This was… 

“It’s imitating humans…” 

At first, it had been closer to an animal, but now it forcibly took on a human form. 

This was perhaps the correct choice for a learning, self-evolving combat machine. When Shin fought it in the Charité Underground Labyrinth, he defeated it by casting aside his Juggernaut and dispatching it using his own body and gunfire. And during the battle in the Revich Citadel Base, it was defeated when Lerche abandoned her own unit to engage it. 

Up until now, every time the Phönix was defeated, it was at the hands of an opponent in human form. So perhaps, it wasn’t entirely implausible for it to assume that a bipedal form was ideal for combat. 

And in truth, it wasn’t entirely unsuitable for battle. It might not have been as agile as an animal, but it did offer its share of advantages. Like having two hands that allowed humans to wield a multitude of weapons that required precise control. Or having the greatest throwing capabilities of all mammals. 

But none those advantages suited the Phönix’s combat style. At the end of its endless pursuit, it achieved an evolution that did not satisfy its initial goal. Shin smirked as he looked at it. 

“Taking on a human form won’t give you the upper hand. You’ll only end up losing your way… Just like you did when you became obsessed with me.” 

The Phönix’s objective right now was likely to single-handedly defeat Shin. That was why it ignored tactical logic and sought Shin out by attacking the command center. And why it took Raiden and the others hostage instead of finishing them off. 

And why it drove Undertaker to this magma lake, where none of its own allies could offer assistance. 

All these were inefficient, illogical courses of action for a killing machine. They were feats that were unthinkable for the Legion, which were always fixated on eliminating the hostile elements set before them. 

All of that was because of the Phönix’s obsession with killing Shin. An obsession… An attempt to append a way of being to itself, despite not being human. 

“A machine like you doesn’t need that… You’re defective.” 

There was no way the Phönix could possibly understand the mocking tone in Shin’s voice, but it still kicked against the ground and lunged at him. 

*   *   * 

The fighting in the reserve formation continued. As Lena watched through the sub-window that displayed how the Juggernauts under her command and the United Kingdom’s units were being pushed back and gradually worn down, her mind suddenly fixated on a single thought. 

We might die here… 

She clenched her teeth, stifling that horrible notion. 

Stop being so spoiled. You’re not going to die here. You can’t die. Dying would mean leaving him behind…after he just begged you not to do that. And you told him you wouldn’t. Shin never abandoned me. He came back. He overcame a fate of certain death and found me on that battlefield of lycoris flowers. So I can’t give up here… 

I might die? So what? 

The vehicle was equipped with a chain gun and a 12.7 mm heavy machine gun for self-defense purposes, but both were out of bullets. Ameise units still hopped up in front of Bloody Reina’s carriage, even though it had completely lost its combat capabilities. As she saw the machine guns mounted on their shoulders begin to rotate, Lena gave her order. 

“Full speed ahead! Run them over!” 

“What…?!” 

“They’re just Ameise! Vanadis’s weight will knock them aside!” 

“…Yes, ma’am! Hang on tight, Your Majesty!” the driver exclaimed, bracing himself for the worst. 

While it was lightly armored compared with a tank, the armored command vehicle was still covered in thirty tons of metal. Its diesel engine howled viciously as it charged forward. 

Whether their targets were meant for combat or whether they were actually armed mattered little in the face of this weight difference. The Ameise had already locked onto their target and couldn’t avoid it in time. Vanadis wasn’t able to knock them back too much due to their weight, but it still mercilessly ran over and trampled them. Perhaps owing to an adrenaline rush, the vivid, striking sight played out awfully slowly in Lena’s eyes. 

The world, and its people, were ugly. They were cold, indifferent, and cruel. This quagmire of a battlefield, as vivid as it was meaningless, was likely the truest form of the world. And yet… 

Lena’s teeth creaked as she clenched them once again. 

You’ll get yourself dirty touching me. 

That was what Shin had told her when they stood before the wreckage of the Alkonosts, with a tone that sounded lost and exhausted and with a gaze full of weary weakness. Even though there was nothing about him that would sully her if she was to touch him. 

At that time, Shin thought himself to be tainted. That Lena touching him would only sully her. It left her feeling the same wound-like void she felt whenever he spoke of humankind’s lowly vulgarity—and of the cold, emotionless nature of the world. 

She now realized the truth behind it all. Shin hated this cold world. He hated how helplessly unsightly and ugly humans could be. 

And he hated himself, for being part of this detestable world and for being part of the human race he loathed. 

That was probably why he told her she’d dirty herself by touching him. Why he kept his distance from her, like in that snowy garden. Why he obstinately insisted on not relying on her, even after claiming time and again that he didn’t mind doing so. 

It was as if he saw himself as an ugly, despicable monster and feared he might end up pulling Lena into the same cold, merciless world he inhabited. In which case, if he feared dragging her in… 

She glared hard at the battlefield before her, thinking of those who knew nothing but terrible war. 

This is the merciless world you see, isn’t it? You don’t really want to stay here, do you…?! 

Shin wasn’t in front of her. All she saw was a battlefield full of turmoil extending as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the future. It wasn’t that he was incapable of wishing. It’s that he was still afraid…of being so mercilessly stripped of wishes and hopes yet again. 

He really wanted to have faith, but the cruelty of this world had stolen his ability to dream. In which case, if the only thing he had was the pride of fighting to the bitter end… If he didn’t even have the strength to wish anymore… If his heart and even his future had been whittled down by this world… 

She would fight in his place. 

She would fight this ugly world Shin saw—the cold world that shackled him—so that he could see his wish fulfilled once the war ended. 

She couldn’t afford to die. 

Vanadis kicked up clouds of smoke and rumbled as it landed on something straight ahead of it—steel-colored armor and a massive 155 mm turret. 

A Dinosauria. 

Vanadis’s tackle may have been able to push back a ten-ton Ameise, but it would do nothing to faze a one-hundred-ton steel monstrosity. No, it wouldn’t even have the time to do so. The tank turret had Vanadis in its sights, as the dark void of its 155 mm caliber muzzle stared straight at Lena. 

Oddly enough, she felt no fear. To the contrary, she glared straight on at the darkness that threatened to kill her. 

I won’t die. 

I can’t die. 

Like hell I’ll die. 

I still haven’t… 

That moment, an APFSDS shell skewered the Dinosauria’s turret. The depleted uranium round dug into the thick armor plates with an eerie sound, which was followed by the roar of an 88 mm cannon firing against the steel frame. The Dinosauria instantaneously fell silent, like a man shot through the temple. Its frozen form fell apart a moment later as it crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut. 

Huh? 

Lena gazed at its massive form with astonishment. What had just happened? The armored command vehicle’s driver likely felt the same way. Something landed next to where Vanadis had stopped—something with audible footsteps. Something that wasn’t a Legion. 

Vanadis’s optical sensor focused on that figure. It had white armor, like the color of polished bone, and a body shaped like a headless skeletal corpse. A Juggernaut. Below its canopy was a Personal Mark of a rifle with a scope. 

Gunslinger. Kurena’s personal unit. 

“You still alive in there, Lena?” 

Her blunt voice rang out from the wireless and the Sensory Resonance at once. As far and long ago as the Eighty-Sixth Sector’s battlefield felt by now, Kurena still interacted with her in the same way. This girl was curt but full of emotion toward her comrades. 

“He asked me to look after you. If you die, I won’t be able to look Shin in the eye…so stop pulling crazy stunts that might get you killed.” 

Granite is normally hard and fine, but prolonged exposure to high temperatures can make it awfully brittle. It’s most remarkable with low rocky areas that are close to a heat source. When stepping or landing on top of it as a footing, it has a tendency of crumbling away. 

And so little by little, Undertaker and the Phönix clashed as their range of movement gradually diminished. The smallest of the rock footholds dotting the area was roughly the size of a civilian house, while the largest ones were the size of a city sector. Their heights weren’t uniform, either, with some of them being so low that they couldn’t descend to them, while others towered over them like walls, being too high to hop onto. 

Both units leaped around the footholds, even relying on the wall-like surfaces of the higher ones. A shadow of black and a shadow of white, both of them optimized for melee combat, clashed as each aimed to rip the life out of the other. Shin fired a shell for what felt like the umpteenth time, but his opponent moved so quickly, his shot greatly missed its mark and flew away into the horizon. 

“Dammit…!” 

Owing to its extra armor and 88 mm gun, the Juggernaut was significantly heavier than the Phönix, which translated to a gap in the range each of them was capable of jumping. As such, Undertaker was limited in the number of footholds it could stand on, while the Phönix could freely stand atop even the thin, cone-shaped rocks. 

Shin was being toyed with. 

He did have the advantage of a turret capable of long-range fire, but the Phönix lunged and suddenly braked with speeds that allowed it to shake off the automatic sights of the Juggernaut. Aiming at it without any allies to assist him was difficult. 

Midjump, Shin launched an anchor into one of the walls to change his trajectory, but the next moment, the rock the anchor had dug into was cleaved clean off. Undertaker kicked off from one of the lower footings that was too hot and smoldering for it to stand on. The Phönix darted after it in pursuit. 

“………!” 

With its anchor having missed its mark, Undertaker plummeted toward the magma lake. Shin somehow managed to use his other anchor to reel himself up to another foothold. As soon as he landed on it, the Phönix rushed it from a steep angle, as if it had ignored gravity altogether. 

Since it only used two legs to walk now instead of four, the Phönix’s humanoid form looked like it wasn’t as suited for high-speed movement. But that couldn’t be further from the truth—it was moving even faster than before. The pointed tips of its exposed shafts stabbed into the rock face. The ability to ground itself more firmly allowed its actuators to efficiently transform more of their output into propulsive force. 

The Phönix propelled itself forward by kicking against its foothold, its metal legs screeching as they rubbed against the rocks. This form had been optimized for fighting Undertaker. It had even forsaken its initial form to do that. 

If you choose to be on the battlefield, this is how you ought to look. 

As Shin focused on this battle to the death, that inappropriate thought crossed his mind. A being that was made for combat ought to exist for nothing else but combat. Those who elected to live on the battlefield were right to reject everything but the functions needed to fight. 

You say you’ll fight on, but you won’t discard your body, which isn’t fit for battle. 

It was just as Lerche had said. The Eighty-Six were imperfect. But even so, they didn’t want to become beings meant only for combat. That was no way to live. He believed this now, even though he had believed the opposite in the past. 

Back when he first took on the name Undertaker, the name Reaper, before he met Raiden and his other comrades, before he had friends he could fight alongside with, a part of him did believe that not having a heart would make everything easier. He truly believed that not having emotions would help him live longer. 

But that wasn’t true. 

A slash was coming his way, and Shin wasn’t in the right position to evade. He used his stopped blade to toss one of the containers lying nearby into the path of the slash. The container’s inertia pulled the Phönix’s chain blade off its course, while Undertaker pathetically scrambled away beneath it like some kind of injured animal. 

A bit of Undertaker’s leg armor fell off as the blade skimmed it. 

You can still find happiness with someone. 

Was that true? Perhaps it was. Shin still didn’t know what he wished for—or what he should wish for. But then he thought back to times in the past, in the barracks in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, and the other barracks in other wards he’d served in. He thought back to the comrades he’d lived with briefly, before he parted ways with them because of death or assignment changes, and the time he’d spent with them. 

He thought back to the moments when he’d laughed with them over the dumbest, most trivial things. 

Those were the times when he didn’t have to think of battle. He’d never forgotten about it, not entirely, but he didn’t have to think of combat. Ever since those times in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, he had more than pride to keeping him going. He had always wished for more than just that. 

Rito and the rest of the Claymore squadron were given orders to aid in the search for Shin. 

“Roger that. All right…” 

He replied to the orders and then glanced to the side. A group of Alkonosts had advanced this far with the Claymore squadron. It was a suicide-bombing squad meant to bring down the base. These Alkonosts were loaded with heavy explosives, as much as their weight capacity would allow, and were stripped of not just all their weaponry but even some of their armor to do so. Other ordinarily armed Alkonosts were set to defend them until the time came for the first group of Alkonosts to detonate. 

He spoke to the unit that served as their commander through the Resonance. 

“We got the order to go, too, er…Ludmila.” 

“Yes. Do take care.” 

Her response came composedly, with a hint of a smile. The Juggernauts were retreating from her, one by one, as if trying to flee. Sitting within his unit, Milan, which had stayed behind as rear guard while the others moved, Rito watched her stand there silently like a swan that understood its time to die had come. 

She had died before. And now she would die again—she and the rest of those girls. 

Suddenly, Ludmila spoke. 

“Do we frighten you?” 

She opened her Alkonost’s—Malinovka One’s—canopy. Like a butterfly emerging from a pupa, the control unit shaped like a girl plopped down into the burning womb of the volcano. 

She spread out both arms proudly. Like a martyr. 

“Tell me, do we frighten you? The way we die, time and again? Do we strike you as terrifying?” 

For a moment, Rito was left speechless. He was just a boy in his midteens, after all, and even if he knew she contained the vestiges of the war dead inside her, being asked such a question by what looked like a girl who was barely older than him hurt his pride. 

But he could only nod. Because it was true, and this Sirin already suspected as much. 

“Yeah.” 

He nodded in a somewhat vexed manner. Ludmila, however, smiled like a merciful saint. 

“I see… That’s good, then.” 

“Huh?” 

“If you find us frightening, it is because we are different from you. Because you do not wish to become like us, who are birds of death. If you see us and feel fear…then that is an honor to us.” 

She seemed truly relieved, from the bottom of her heart. 

“Tell me. If that is the case, what do you want to become? If you do not want to be like us, what do you wish for?” 

“…I…” 

Perhaps it was because he was an Eighty-Six, but the words stopped in his throat. What were the Eighty-Six, really? Fighting on until the very end was their pride. But if the Eighty-Six were fated to die at some point, and the final conclusion of it all was to be like that mountain of corpses… 

Then I don’t want to die. 

Yes, he didn’t want to die…but he would never become a pig who ran from battle and survived by being sheltered by someone. He wanted to fight until the bitter end…but he wouldn’t be satisfied by a meaningless death. He wanted to fight, and not die. Not meaninglessly. In other words… 

“I want to live. I think I want to live…and find a purpose for myself.” 

Fighting through this battlefield of certain death was the Eighty-Six’s pride. The thing they’d once decided for themselves, the thing they wouldn’t relinquish even if everything else was taken from them. The desire to live on proudly even in the Eighty-Sixth Sector—even in this world. 

Death was not a way of life for the Eighty-Six. After all, they were the ones who lived on, no matter how fickle or how short a life it may be… They lived, defiantly, until the very end. 

But it felt like, at some point, Rito had forgotten that. 

“We might die fighting, but we’re not fighting just to die. All we wanted was a purpose. It might sound like self-satisfaction, but…we want to live a life we can be satisfied with and die in a way we can accept.” 

Even if they were sure to die sooner or later, this was the one thing they could not give up on. 

“Yes.” 

Ludmila eventually gave a satisfied nod. She fluttered her eyes shut, as if to say this was the answer she wanted to hear. 

“That would be for the best. You are alive, after all. You can want something out of your life, and you have the freedom to live in accordance to those wishes… Except—” 

Except, the dead warbler said again. Like a prayer. Like an imploration. 

“—except if possible, no matter what you may gain or lose, do not relinquish this one thing you refuse to let go of. Do not relinquish that pride. Do not cast aside who you are. And may you…find bliss.” 

Ludmila—and the Sirins as a whole—did not have memories of their past lives. Rito, who had only been dispatched at their side for this brief moment, had no way of knowing who she was in life. And even still, he got the feeling he somehow knew what her wish was. He could tell they were fighting for that wish. 

These girls relinquished it in their past life. Or perhaps they simply gave up on it and died with that wish unfulfilled. And so they wished for Rito and the Eighty-Six, who were still alive, who still hadn’t met the death that defined the Sirins’ current existence, to not lose their own wish. 

“…Yeah.” 

He gave a small nod. Rito still couldn’t come up with any other words to answer her. And he felt like he didn’t direct that word toward just Ludmila, but to all the other Sirins that weren’t here, too. And to the other Eighty-Six who, unlike him, didn’t survive the Eighty-Sixth Sector. And to Irina who’d died shortly before. He’d directed it at them as well. 

“Then do go on. And please do not forget me. Even if I will only linger in your memory as a single bird who perished along the way.” 

“Right… But—” 

Rito spoke to this bird standing before his eyes, who was as frightening to him as she was tragic and pitiful. This exchange probably would not exist among this girl’s memories the next time they met. But right now, he wanted to give her his answer. 

“—I won’t forget, and I will think of you…because that’s something I can still do.” 

His Juggernaut finally found an acceptable foothold. It was a slightly low platform, and the system was screeching warnings alerting him to the high temperature. The Phönix, which was looking down at Shin from the guillotine’s edge, had almost hopped down before realizing Shin’s plan and stopping in its tracks. 

There were no stepping stones between the guillotine and the platform Undertaker was on. The Phönix’s leaping prowess would enable it to just barely make that jump, but it was too far for a clean landing. And unless it leaped straight down, it would have to jump across in an arc. In other words, there would be a moment when it reached the top of that arc—a moment where it would neither ascend nor descend. 

The Phönix realized Shin was aiming to shoot it down in that moment, and so it couldn’t approach him carelessly. Seeing that the Phönix was rapidly trying to come up with a way to pursue him, Shin looked for a chance to retreat. He cautiously shuffled back toward a stone wall behind him, when one of his legs knocked a broken fragment of a rock down into the magma. The eerie sizzling sound it produced was hardly audible through his strained nerves. 

It was simply too hot. It wasn’t quite hot enough for the metal to become red-hot, but this foothold was far too close to the magma. The intense, radiant heat even made the interior of the airtight cockpit hot and suffocating. 

The human body was designed to maintain a certain safe temperature, of course, but that didn’t extend to the RAID Device and its quasi-nerve crystal, which were in contact with his body. The silvery, metallic ring of the RAID Device then let out a blaring warning sound. 

“………?!” 

It wasn’t high in volume, but it did ring out from the back of his neck, which prompted him to freeze up. And with that electronic screech that alerted Shin of a malfunction in the device, Raiden and Lena’s voices, which he’d only barely been able to hear so far, completely disappeared. 

His arm, which he had unconsciously stiffened, picked up on that shiver and unintentionally moved Undertaker’s rear leg. The claw tip of his leg, which was barely on the foothold, slipped off ever so slightly. 

“Shit…!” 

Undertaker just narrowly lost its balance. It stumbled a bit, and he could easily get back up… In no way did he completely fall off or take an irrecoverable misstep. But they were fighting above a pool of magma, and falling in meant certain death. All of Shin’s focus had shifted to his left leg for a moment. 

The Phönix didn’t miss that chance. It moved in to attack. 

It extended the chain blades on its back, using them to hook one of the containers lying around. It then used another chain blade, which had been turned off, to fling the container. It was empty, but it was still a massive, metal object, and it was being thrown at full force. It was heavy enough to stagger a Juggernaut if it landed a direct hit…but as an attack, it would only be a deceptive distraction. There was no way the Phönix was assuming Shin would fall for this and actually fire his unit’s turret to hit such a simple target… 

But the container didn’t reach Undertaker and instead started pointlessly plummeting halfway through. Seeing this, though, made Shin’s hair stand up on end. The container started falling too soon… It wasn’t empty! 

The container was filled with Eintagsfliege. They were playing dead, but Shin could barely pick up the sound of their agony. The moment he saw them, he almost reflexively had Undertaker jump away. As he did, the Eintagsfliege’s wings shone white as they unleashed an electrical discharge. Shin didn’t need to look in order to realize what else was inside that container. 

The sparks of electricity lapped at the fuse located at the bottom of the cartridge, igniting it just fast enough to burn the gunpowder. 

The tank shells within that munitions container burst. 

Specifically, it seemed APFSDS rounds were being kept in that container. They blew up only once, with the flammable gas propelling the shells in all directions. However, APFSDS shells relied on a massive amount of kinetic energy for their force, which was achieved using the flammable gas gathering within the barrel. That gas propelled the shells, granting them the acceleration they needed to move swiftly. 

These rounds didn’t have any barrel to propel them. They burst on their own, lacking the speed and force they normally had. The gunpowder was capable of launching piercing shells that weighed 4.6 kilograms at 1,600 meters per second, but it still lacked the destructive force of a heavy explosive. 

And so neither the piercing shells, the shock waves, nor the explosion would deal any crippling damage to Undertaker, which had hopped away. The shells only dispersed, since they didn’t have a barrel to direct them in any particular direction. Only a few of the shells flew in the Juggernaut’s direction. 

Shin somersaulted back by using Undertaker’s rear-leg actuators at full capacity, while also using the actuators to the left and right to adjust his unit’s posture. He then fired an anchor into the rock wall behind him and reeled it back to cling to the wall vertically. The next moment, the Phönix appeared before his very eyes, having ripped through the smoke and fire. 

“Tch.” 

Shin didn’t have the leisure to collect the anchor. He purged the wire while it was reeling him up, leaving the anchor behind, and kicked against the wall to escape to the only place he still could—the air. The Phönix reached the wall a moment later, crushing the giant granite monolith to rubble with the force of its legs, which was several times greater than Undertaker’s, as it lunged after him. 

The Phönix had likely launched itself by straining its high-fidelity actuators beyond their normal capacity, even though they had already been pushed to their limits. The spiky sections of its legs both cracked, but in exchange for that damage, it had blasted through the distance between itself and Undertaker in a single bound and was in position to strike it down. 

It used the blast to blind Shin and utilized the barrage of piercing shells to limit his movements. It forced him into a position where he would have no choice but to dodge by jumping into the air and intended to use that chance to cut him down. It was essentially the same method Shin used in the Charité Underground Labyrinth and the Strike Package employed in the Revich Citadel Base. 

In what could perhaps be seen as a sort of revenge, it had driven Undertaker into the air and quickly caught up to it. Regardless of if it was about to shoot or slash at him, if Undertaker was to intercept the Phönix as it had come from behind him, it would have to turn around and face it somehow. As the pursuer, the Phönix didn’t need to resort to the same action. And that created a split-second difference in when their attacks were launched. 

The chain blade’s shadow descended upon Undertaker’s cockpit. It was faster. Even if Shin was to slash at it now, it would only end in both of them killing each other. His mind, which was still operating with composed coolness even at a time like this, told him as such. The cockpit would be slashed through, and the fuselage would lose control and plummet down into the magma. 

Perhaps due to his intense concentration, time seemed to move slower as the vibrating blade neared him. And even with death looming just ahead, he felt strangely sober. The odd thought crossed his mind that this, too, was proof of the wounds to his psyche. It didn’t matter which of his friends died; he was always capable of pushing the sorrow and anger to deal with after the battle ended. 

He always knew to cut off those emotions and maintain the composure he needed, only grieving after the battle ended. During battle, he sealed the anger that would cloud his judgment and the fear that would stiffen his limbs away, since they weren’t necessary. 

He abandoned the survival instincts a living being naturally adhered to. 

He only saw his own life and the lives of others from a detached position, with a perspective that degenerated from being human into something that was closer to a war machine. These were the techniques he’d built up and the wounds he’d accumulated. 

And for the first time, he recognized it as a wound. A wound he needed to win this war, perhaps, but one day… One day, he might reach a point where he would feel whole even after healing that wound. 

And to that end, he would make use of his pain. 

Armament selection. Leg pile drivers. Four units. Forcefully purge piles. Detonate concurrently. 

Trigger. 

The four pile drivers at the tips of his Juggernaut’s legs burst into the air—where there was nothing to stab into and nothing to blow away. They burst with minor explosions. These 57 mm pile drivers were designed to rip through the top of a Dinosauria’s armor, which, despite being their weakest point, was still relatively thick. And all four of them burst at once. 

The tungsten piles were capable of tearing through thick armor because of the force that was granted to them by a large amount of gunpowder. And the recoil of that same force that afforded them such speed now pushed Undertaker upward. All four of his unit’s legs were given upward propulsion. 

And the result of this action was akin to it suddenly finding a foothold in midair. While in midjump, Undertaker kicked against the air a second time and leaped farther up. 

The Phönix’s chain blade cut through the empty air beneath Undertaker’s legs. And since it no longer had any projectile weapons, the Phönix couldn’t do the same thing Undertaker did. Its blue optical sensor simply looked up at Undertaker, still filled with synthetic hatred and bloodlust, and Shin stared back into that gaze unflinchingly. He swung his high-frequency blade downward. 

The Phönix, which up until now had avoided every attack launched by Undertaker, and indeed any other Juggernaut and unit it had faced so far, was finally slashed through. 

Its black frame was cut apart, exposing its internal structure. Shin swung his blade again to confirm the kill, using the recoil to strike. Reflexively defending itself, the Phönix swung one of its chain blades up into the second slash’s trajectory. The two vibrating blades clashed against each other, both of them eventually snapping off and flying away. The recoil of that clash sent the two units farther away. 

Undertaker, which had slashed from above, was sent flying up. And the Phönix, which was on the receiving end of that swing, was sent plummeting down. 

Juggernauts couldn’t fly. They were at the mercy of the invisible hand of gravity as everything else in nature was. Undertaker flew up in an arc and, upon reaching the zenith of that parabola, began falling down. They’d clashed in a bad spot, and at this rate, Shin would fall into the magma. 

Shin fired his last remaining anchor, driving it into the center of the guillotine. Paying no heed to the engine, which had already overheated from being exposed to the high-temperature environment, he reeled the anchor up as fast as he could to change the trajectory of his fall. The wire anchor finally caught fire, after which Shin hurriedly purged it and landed atop the guillotine. 

“Ngh…!” 

He’d fallen from a height that was beyond what the unit’s specifications would allow. Unlike the Republic’s aluminum coffin, the Reginleif was designed with buffering systems that protected the pilot. But his unit’s driving system was strained in exchange, screeching up an alert. The linear actuators had ruptured, and the frame’s joints had been damaged. A few armor bits fell off, bouncing against the hard rock footing. 

But the Phönix, on the other hand, had no anchors. It didn’t have the leisure to move to safety, because the time it spent falling into the magma—in other words, its altitude—was far shorter. It still swung its remaining chain blades around, trying to right its posture. 

It barely managed to land on the edge of the nearby stone wall, but its spikes stabbed into it, making the wall too brittle to withstand the shock of its landing. With its foothold crumbling under its weight, the black form once again wobbled and fell down into the abyss. 

<<………!>> 

It extended its chain blades like a human reaching out and stabbed them into the cliff face. The vibrating blades sank into the rock without any resistance as it fell a few more meters down, but the Phönix stopped their vibrations and eventually remained suspended against the rock. The rock had grown brittle on the inside, making the metallic beast swing in midair. 

Neither its hands nor legs could reach the cliff, and so it swung pathetically like an insect caught by a spider’s thread. As skilled as it was in three-dimensional mobility, it wouldn’t be able to climb up the cliff. The blade’s base gave an ominous creaking sound. The stretched parts of its arm screamed as the magma roared beneath it. 

Its only way of escaping now would be to abandon this unit. Apparently, it had come to that conclusion, since once again, the silvery light of its Liquid Micromachines began to seep out from the gaps in its armor. 

“Die.” 

Shin fixed his sights on the chain blade and mercilessly pulled the trigger of his 88 mm turret. The turret was forced to suddenly rotate when it was already damaged and had to withstand the powerful recoil of the 88 mm cannon, even if it was dampened somewhat by the recoil brake. The joint of Undertaker’s rear left leg, which was already cracked, failed to withstand the recoil, snapped off, and went flying. With this, Undertaker had lost is cruising ability, but in exchange… 

…the APFSDS shell fired at close range crushed the granite bedrock and the chain blade that had stabbed into it. 

<<?!!!>> 

The Phönix fell down, unleashing an agonized shout—at least, that’s what it sounded like to Shin—as it plummeted down into the red, shimmering lake of seething magma. But it still abided by its combat instincts and struggled to survive. Its Liquid Micromachines leaked out, trying to turn to butterflies and take flight before they fell into the crimson lake. 

But as they tried to soar away, the butterflies caught fire one after another. With each flap of their wings, the Liquid Micromachines only burned faster. Even without yet touching the magma, they gave off a red glow as they combusted. 

Like will-o’-the-wisps, like coquelicots scattering in the wind, they blossomed brilliantly as they burned. And after radiating that crimson, shining glow for a moment, the butterflies turned to ash and crumbled away. 

Radiant heat. 

Even a Löwe and a Dinosauria would not have been able to survive these temperatures for long, to say nothing of a Juggernaut. And the butterflies were also close to the magma, with their thin wings acutely sensitive to rising temperatures. If the Phönix didn’t try to escape the magma, it would have fallen in completely. But its attempt to escape made the butterflies’ wings catch fire. 

Did the Phönix realize that its fixation on single-handedly defeating Shin led it to willingly choosing this battlefield? 

Along with its Liquid Micromachine butterflies, the Phönix’s frame sunk into the magma. The dark-red fluid had low viscosity and swallowed the black armor, a fate which soon befell the metal butterflies as well. 

The mechanical scream faded. 

These were the final moments of the Phönix—the unit that had single-handedly trumped and cornered the Strike Package for several months. 

To Shin, the Legion were all pitiful ghosts that begged to pass on to the place they had been denied. That was just as true for the Black Sheep and Shepherds, both of which assimilated human neural networks, and the White Sheep. 

The Phönix had tormented him and his comrades so much ever since it had first joined the fray. Perhaps because of that, Shin felt nothing in particular at watching its demise. There wasn’t even any elation at having beat it, though Shin never really felt anything of the sort when it came to fighting the Legion. All he’d felt at the sight of seeing this ghost disappear was a tinge of loneliness. 

“………” 

Shin heaved a single sigh as he slackened his strained nerves and turned Undertaker around. The unit dragged its broken legs as it struggled forward. 

He felt hot. 

Shin lowered his unit’s output from combat to cruising mode, but the unit’s temperature didn’t go any lower. Quite the opposite, actually. The temperature gauges were gradually rising toward their critical sections. 

The cave’s temperature was too high. The source of the heat was close, and the thick rock bed had little in way of insulation and hardly any openings that might allow the heat to escape into the air. 

Shin wouldn’t survive for much longer here. If he didn’t get away from this place quickly, both the unit and Shin himself would be so crippled by the heat that they wouldn’t be able to move anymore. And then he would certainly die. So before that happened… 

He dragged Undertaker’s legs along, which felt extremely sluggish and annoying. Still, he somehow managed to force his unruly Feldreß to do a one-eighty, which made the entire battlefield come into view. 

Perhaps it was the aftermath of the duel that took place here, but at this point, it was hard to tell. And now that the Phönix was gone, he couldn’t tell if it was done intentionally, either. But the narrow rock road he’d crossed to reach this cave—the sole path connecting the guillotine to the sole entrance to this cavern—had crumbled and collapsed halfway across. 

“…Huh?” 

How long did he spend gawking at the sight? This utterance, which was neither doubt nor denial, returned Shin to his senses. Whichever it was didn’t really matter. No matter how he might’ve tried to explain or deny what he was seeing, the sight before his eyes wasn’t going to become any less real. 

The sole passage out of this cavern had collapsed, leaving a break of some ten meters. And seeing this, he came to a conclusion: This meant… 

I can’t go back… 

The footing he was on may have been isolated right now, but it was wide enough for two armored units to fight on. There was plenty of space to break into a run, and if he were to use a wire anchor, he’d be able to leap across the gap. 

Or he would have been able to, if Undertaker was in workable condition. But one of its legs was gone, and both of its wire anchors were missing. Right now, Undertaker could just barely walk by dragging its legs, so jumping a few meters was impossible. And there were no materials or any other tools to repair it with, either. 

Shin couldn’t escape this underground cavern on his own, and he had no means of calling for help, either. His RAID Device malfunctioned, and so he couldn’t connect to the Sensory Resonance. The thick rock impeded radio waves, so the data link, radar, and wireless wouldn’t reach him, either. 

Had Frederica still been with the control team, she might have noticed his plight, but she’d been injured and taken off the battlefield. Raiden and the others were likely looking for him, but since they didn’t know where he was, the chances of them finding this place in this massive underground fortress weren’t high. And they wouldn’t be able to keep this sector blockaded for much longer. 

But there was another problem… Shin’s body likely wouldn’t last in this environment before that time limit elapsed. 

“………” 

The moment he realized there was nothing he could do, his body went limp from exhaustion. 

Ah. So this is where it ends. This…is where I die. Without anyone to know of it. Without any way back. 

Meaninglessly. 

Even with that fact thrust before his eyes, Shin felt oddly calm. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, but old habits died hard. Maybe that was why. Maybe it was because of that unique perspective on life and death the Eighty-Six had built up over nine years in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, where certain death was what awaited at the end of one’s military service. 

Death was always present, always looming ahead. Every single day, he knew he might not live to see the next day. So even if he was to die today, he could accept that. There was no need to fear it nor any reason to shun it. He did fight to the very end, after all. 

“…I’ve done enough, right?” 

Uttering words no one would ever hear—the mission recorder, which would usually record anything the Processor said, had gone offline at some point—he opened the canopy and stepped outside. 

The Juggernaut’s system was already completely silent, done in by the heat. It’d died at the same time as the cooling system, so the temperature in the cockpit was approaching dangerous levels. He knew going outside would only hasten his demise, but somehow, the prospect of suffocating to death in an airtight cockpit felt even worse. 

He was greeted by hot wind, or rather, sizzling air enveloping his body. The blinding light of the magma, which wasn’t dampened by the support computer’s filter, burned into his retinas. This was perhaps only natural. He’d seen so many die. He’d buried so many of his comrades. And the time finally came for him to join their ranks. For the Eighty-Six, death was a way of life. They died too quickly, too easily, all too obviously. 

And now it was his turn. That was all. Except… 

“I shouldn’t have told her.” 

He whispered this softly. Even doing just that made the hot air sting into his throat. He shouldn’t have wished for the future. Making a wish meant losing something. That’s how things always were, and how they always would be. He wished for her not to leave. He promised to come back at all costs. But as soon as he did that, this happened. 

Lena would be sad… Yes, she likely would. That’s how she was. That was why he asked her to remember them two years ago. And he just had to do something that was entirely unlike him and needlessly hurt her… 

Had he not been wearing his flight suit, which was made to insulate heat, he wouldn’t be able to lean back against Undertaker’s armor like he was doing. Shin looked up. He’d long since lost any god he could pray to. If he used his pistol, he’d be able to die a bit more easily compared with letting the heat kill him, but he didn’t want to use it. It felt like a betrayal of sorts. 

A betrayal of the promise to fight on until the very last moment. To bring those who died to the very end, to his final destination. The promise he’d made with all the comrades he fought with until now…and to the promise he’d made with Lena to come back alive. Even if eventually he’d end up breaking it either way. 

“…Lena.” 

If nothing else… The only bit of luck was that she wouldn’t have to learn of how he died… 

“Sorry.” 

But then a white shadow appeared in front of him. 

A voice of lamentation descended upon Shin. Someone’s last words, as uttered by the Legion. The wailing of a ghost—a copy of a brain structure, trapped within a Legion and replaying its last moments on endless repeat. 

It was a woman’s voice. The cold, detached, merciless voice of moonlight. 

Shin raised his head slowly, as if it were being pulled up by some force. And his gaze fell on a single, old Ameise, which had appeared before him at some point. Its armor was as white as moonlight, with the Personal Mark of a goddess leaning against the moon etched onto it. 

The Merciless Queen. 

“?!” 

At that moment, pure, unadulterated terror—intense enough to white out his thoughts for a moment—washed over him. It was a fear of death. 

As the Ameise were scouts meant for collecting intelligence, they were considered one of the weakest Legion types in terms of fighting power. But that was only from the perspective of Feldreß like the Reginleif and the Vánagandr. 

A frail human with nothing more than their four limbs couldn’t hope to beat an Ameise. For a human, it didn’t matter if they were faced with an Ameise or a Dinosauria. They would still be killed in a merciless, mechanical manner. 

Just like when he’d seen it at the Revich Citadel Base, the Merciless Queen was unarmed; it lacked the all-purpose 14 mm machine guns the Ameise were normally equipped with. But that mattered little. An Ameise’s weight and output could easily tear a human apart with its legs. 

And one such killing machine was now before his eyes. Sooner than he could prepare himself to die. The death he wasn’t prepared for had shown itself. 

Yes. Death comes to all. Equally, mercilessly…and suddenly. 

Shin thought he would die here, dehydrating and burning in the hot air. He was prepared to accept that death with dignity. But now he would be denied even the short amount of time he had left to embrace that emotion, as if something had tried to tell him even that was too good for him. 

The world was cruel, and he truly thought he had understood this. Even now, in this final moment, that ugly fact was thrust before his eyes. 

The Scout type approached him. Shin reflexively stood up in a movement that was dictated not by thought, but instinct. He took an unconscious step back, attempting to flee. His survival instincts were telling him to escape. 

I don’t want to die. 

That thought suddenly and intensely crossed his mind. It surged up in him with an almost instinctual intensity. 

I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. Because if I die, I’d call for her. I’d call her name in the end. And if I become a Legion, I’d keep doing it forever, until I break. 

The ability to pick up on the Legion’s—the mechanical ghosts’ screams—was unique to Shin. No other Esper had been discovered to possess this ability. And unlike the Sensory Resonance, there was no artificial way of re-creating it, either. If Shin was to die, the human side would never hear the Legion’s screams again. 

But if, by some slim chance, the sound of his screams might reach her… 

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to make her cry. Yes… He didn’t want her to cry. He didn’t want to make her sad. Even if these wishes could never be granted, he didn’t want to give up. He made a promise to return to her no matter what. To speak with her. He hadn’t even apologized to her yet… 

So he couldn’t die here. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to make her sad… 

I want her to smile. 

That thought surfaced in his mind, even in this unusual situation. It fit into the void he’d felt within himself ever since that last battle. He couldn’t stay the way he was. He had to change. But what was he to change about himself—and how? He’d kept asking and tormenting himself over that question. And finally, he found the answer. 

He still didn’t know who he wanted to be. He still couldn’t picture the future he was heading toward or what joy he should seek. But still, if nothing else… 

He wanted to live in a way that would make Lena smile. 

And if possible, he wanted to smile with her. 

The Merciless Queen approached him with simple, silent steps. Shin reflexively braced himself. Without taking his eye off the Legion before him, he reached out and picked up the assault rifle resting in his cockpit. He pulled the bolt with flowing, practiced motions and loaded the first bullet. He opened the collapsible rifle’s gunstock and pressed it against his shoulder, annoyed by the extra procedures. 

An Ameise’s armor took no damage from a 9 mm pistol’s bullets. Its frontal armor could push back even a full-size, 7.62 mm rifle’s shots. But Shin still had some way to fight. The enemy was close, and there was nowhere to take cover, but he wasn’t entirely without weapons. He still had to defeat it and survive somehow. 

He had to survive and go back. He had to go back to her. 

Of course, even if he was to somehow defeat and incapacitate the Merciless Queen, he wouldn’t be any closer to getting out of these caves, but at this point, that wasn’t on his mind. An enemy was standing right in front of him, and he had to defeat it. A primal emotion not unlike anger burned within him, controlling all of his thoughts. 

I won’t give up. Like hell I’m giving up here. I told her I would return…! 

The Merciless Queen approached. It was already close enough to attack. And still, it drew even closer. As if to toy with him. As if it had no desire to attack him. And then Shin noticed. Its voice—a woman’s sorrowful cry—wasn’t full of bloodlust like the Legion’s voices usually were when they were about to attack. 

…How did this Ameise appear on this rock face to begin with? 

It couldn’t have jumped over the collapsed area. As Shin was looking in that direction, the Merciless Queen appeared behind him. Which meant… 

A shadow was cast over Shin’s feet. A shadow that belonged neither to him nor the Merciless Queen. A huge, squarish, awkward shadow… 

“…!” 

Just as Shin realized what it was and looked up— 

“Pi!” 

Shin couldn’t tell what the unarmed garbage-collection machine was thinking. It sped through the depths of the cave, over the uneven rock surface, and turned a corner without reducing any of its speed. Fido threw itself upon the Merciless Queen at a hundred kilometers per hour. 

Even an Ameise couldn’t ignore an object with the same weight as it essentially plummeting toward it with full speed. It was flung back, the tips of its legs leaving the ground as it awkwardly fell sideways. As the Merciless Queen sank to the ground with a thud, Fido pressed its full weight down upon it. 

Stomped on relentlessly by a weight of ten tons, the Ameise’s white armor was bent out of shape and flew off. The Merciless Queen lacked its shoulder-mounted machine guns to fend off its odd attacker, and Fido was too close for it to aim accurately even if it did have them. And yet perhaps out of its instincts as a combat machine, the Merciless Queen thrashed its legs in an attempt to kick Fido away… 

“Fido, get out of there!” 

“Shin, stay where you are and don’t move!” 

Fido hopped away—far more awkwardly than a Juggernaut would—and the next moment, the thundering sound of a gun echoed through the cavern. The shots were fired at close range and hit their mark almost as soon as they were unleashed. 40 mm machine-gun rounds and 88 mm APFSDS shells swooped down from above, piercing into the Merciless Queen’s legs. The shells’ fuses were set to inert and didn’t burst upon impact. They simply sent its six legs flying with intense kinetic energy. 

Even just its legs were quite heavy and didn’t fly far enough to put Shin, who stood nearby, in danger. Fido stood in front of him, shielding him from the fragments and machine parts that flew through the air. 

A Juggernaut appeared in the area, its legs making a sharp, crunching sound as it landed. There was a Personal Mark of a laughing fox emblazoned onto its armor—it was Laughing Fox, Theo’s unit. Raiden’s Wehrwolf soon followed suit. 

“Shin, are you all right?!” 

“You’re still alive, right, you asshole?!” 

They appeared just as suddenly as Fido had. The tall wall at the back of this cave had something like a ledge at its top. In terms of height and distance, it was only a few meters away from the guillotine. A human couldn’t hope to make that jump, but a Reginleif in prime condition could easily handle it. 

Shin tried to answer, but his throat was too sore from the heat. After a few dry coughs, he shook off the discomfort and fumbled for the intercom button to respond. 

“…My ears hurt.” 

A Juggernaut’s turret was essentially a tank turret, after all, and the sound of its blast numbed his ears with pain. But put another way, if this was his first complaint, it was proof he wasn’t hurt anywhere else. Picking up on that, Theo snickered and then heaved a deep sigh. 

“Yeah, you’re fine if you can still talk shit. That’s good.” 

His voice then tensed up. 

“…I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“………” 

Shin almost replied that he was sorry but couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was almost two years ago that they told him to stop worrying them… To stop exposing himself to danger. But he’d hardly abided by that agreement. He knew it, too. And while he did feel guilty about it…apologizing with just words didn’t feel honest. So instead, he simply asked: 

“Where did you come from?” 

Judging from the situation, it seemed they were chasing the Merciless Queen. 

“You probably can’t see it from down there because of the shadow, but there’s a path above this wall, right behind us… Can’t say I know why they bothered digging through here.” 

“Yeah…” 

So that was why. After saying that, Shin was overcome by a coughing fit. Talking made him breathe in more of the hot air. Raiden furrowed his brows in concern. 

“Don’t talk—you’ll hurt your throat. Undertaker can’t move, right? We’ll be right over.” 

“Thanks.” 

“I said don’t talk. Fido, go collect Undertaker. And about that Ameise…” 

“Pi!” 

Fido cut into his words with an electronic beep. Raiden didn’t understand, naturally, but Shin explained despite his sore throat. 

“It said the other Scavengers are gonna be here soon.” 

“How the hell did you get that from one beep…? The ones that branched off in the earlier fork, right? Roger, we’ll leave it to them—” 

“Sir Reaperrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” 

A few Alkonosts and Scavengers appeared from the entrance to the cavern, which was on the other side of the collapsed path. For some reason, Chaika was also with the group and left them by jumping across the gap. 

“Are you unharmed…?! Ooh, if it isn’t Sir Werewolf and Sir Fox!” 

“…Wait, what are you doing here, Lerche?” 

“I was informed by the Sirins heading this way that the path here is connected from the Weisel’s waste disposal site, so we regrouped through there… Oh, but now is not the time. Kind Scavengers, please deploy the bridges.” 

Some of the Scavengers were modified for bridge building. They were multilegged models made for river crossing. In order to keep the Scavengers themselves lightweight, the bridges were limited to a length of fifteen meters at most. A heavy Feldreß like the Vánagandr couldn’t hope to cross it, but a Juggernaut or a Scavenger could. 

The bridge-model Scavengers deployed the ladders on their backs and began crossing the linked, fifteen-meter structures while Fido approached Undertaker. Wehrwolf lightly jumped over the rocks. It was an oddly tranquil sight, as it always was after battle ended. 

I’m saved… 

Finally realizing this, Shin collapsed from exhaustion. He suddenly became acutely aware of the dryness in his throat and the heat burning in his body. 

“Hey!” 

Wehrwolf’s optical sensor turned to face him with surprise. Raiden tried to say something—probably to ask if he was all right—but fell silent. He likely could tell by looking that Shin wasn’t fine. With panic in his eyes, he turned to face Laughing Fox. 

“Theo, take Shin and head back. I’ll watch over Fido and the Scavengers.” 

“Gotcha. I’ll take half the forces, all right? First, third, and fifth platoons, we’re gonna book it, so keep up with us. Shin, can you stand? Oh, sorry, guess you can’t. Gimme a sec…” 

Laughing Fox jumped across the gap and landed beside him. 

“Roger. Report back when you return to the designated position.” 

Vika nodded upon receiving confirmation of the Merciless Queen’s retrieval and Shin’s rescue. Shin was injured, and so Raiden was the one handling the report, but judging by his tone, Shin was in no immediate danger of dying. Before long, the next report arrived. The Spearhead squadron had fallen back to the designated line… All units in the Strike Package’s invasion force had retreated. All that remained was… 

Annette spoke through the Sensory Resonance. She was sitting in the cockpit of one of the Juggernauts. That unit hadn’t run into any combat for the duration of the operation and remained protected by its consort units. 

“So we finally have the Merciless Queen… What do you think we’ll get out of it? It went to the trouble of drawing us in by leaving a message to come find it. What’re we gonna find inside this treasure chest?” 

“At worst, it was just a ploy to draw in Nouzen and me. At best, we might find a means to ending this war… Realistically speaking, we’d just get some information out of her. Regardless of if she supplies it willingly or not.” 

If the Merciless Queen really did assimilate the neural network of the Legion’s developer, Major Zelene Birkenbaum, there should have been information they could extract from her. Gaining more data regarding the Legion’s control systems would be a tremendous boon. 

“She…? Oh, you knew the person inside it.” 

“To the extent of having spoken to her a few times, that’s all… Anyway—” 

He opened his expanded control panel, which was modified for his personal use, and spoke while setting several conditions into it. He then finished inputting those settings and continued: 

“—did you finish that experiment you had to risk life and limb for, Penrose?” 

She replied with what felt like a sardonic smile. 

“Why are you asking when you already know, Your Highness? The information leak wasn’t from the United Kingdom’s side. It wasn’t from the Para-RAID, either.” 

The fact that Annette was accompanying the attack force hadn’t been reported to the Federacy military. The only ones who knew Annette was here were the Strike Package and the United Kingdom military. Shin and Vika—whose Personal Marks were already known to the Legion—had been actively targeted. But Annette, who had no Personal Mark, hadn’t been attacked despite being in a conspicuous Juggernaut that took no part in the fighting and was constantly speaking to the others over the Sensory Resonance. 

The Legion didn’t notice Annette’s existence…or perhaps, they didn’t know she was there. In which case, the information leak didn’t come from either the Strike Package or the United Kingdom military. And there was no trace of the Sensory Resonance being intercepted. 

Vika continued talking undisturbed. Even this wasn’t enough to make him feel betrayed, it seemed. 

“Then it’s the Federacy?” 

Annette’s smile appeared to die down, giving way to a mixture of emotions: loathing, disdain, and other such intense feelings. 

“…There’s another country that’s well aware of my existence.” 

After removing several levels of safety devices, the switch for the self-destruction sequence was pressed. The order was transmitted via relays, traveling all across the Dragon Fang Mountain—to where the Alkonosts equipped with the explosives were. 

They were prepared for the possibility of Vika and Annette being injured or the radio waves being cut off, with the Sirins staying inside the Alkonosts to operate the fuses manually if need be. Their initial programming included an order to destroy themselves as thoroughly as possible if needed, so as to prevent the Legion from stealing their brains. And so the Sirins didn’t budge. They simply smiled, thinking of the battlefield they would stand upon next time. 

And upon receiving the signal, they ignited their fuses, and the explosives detonated. 

The explosion’s sound was mostly contained by the thick rock, and so there was no deafening roar. Only a vibration one could feel in the pit of their stomach. 

The combat medic smiled, noting how they never expected they’d have to treat heatstroke symptoms on a snowy mountain as they instructed Shin to rest for a while. Shin, who was lying down in the armored transport’s cabin, sat up. They intended to destroy the base, but they didn’t have the payload to completely level an entire mountain. And so even with them triggering the explosion a good distance away at their regroup point, the Dragon Fang Mountain remained standing tall. 

Still, the lamenting voices he’d heard so far were no longer at the bottom of the earth. He heard neither the Legion’s nor the Sirins’, which had stayed behind to trigger the explosion. Annette and Vika, as well as Bernholdt, who handled the blockade on the mountain, were all back already. 

And once they finished storing the captured Merciless Queen—which was in a tightly bound, armored container that would allow it to neither move nor transmit its position midtransport—all that would remain was for them to retreat to safety. 

There came a knock at the transport door—as if it were one of the palace’s rooms—which opened after a moment. 

“I see you’ve taken quite a beating once again, Sir Reaper.” 

“…Lerche.” 

Lerche had peeked into the room, clad in the Sirins’ unique rouge flight suit. It was similar to her regular uniform, along with the anachronistic saber at her waist, and so it didn’t seem too different from what she usually looked like. Her braided blond hair and green, glassy eyes were the same as ever, too. 

At this point, both her appearance and the sound of the dead rising from within her didn’t strike Shin as detestable anymore. 

“What?” Shin asked. 

“Nothing. I merely dropped by to check on you. I simply heard your treatment was complete and that you had been ordered to rest.” 

Both Lerche’s tone and expression denoted her odd composure, as if she came to engage in idle chatter. But Shin realized she must have been bothered by their exchange back in the Revich Citadel Base in her own way. She may not have regretted what she’d said to him, but perhaps it was still weighing on her. 

“Hearing you are unharmed is a great relief… But I must say, the human body truly must be frail if high temperatures are enough to render you immobile.” 

“………” 

Even if it was after the battle with the Phönix, his Juggernaut couldn’t withstand that heat. Shin doubted a human-size Sirin, with a cooling system meant only to support its small frame, would’ve be able to function there, either. Noticing the way Shin was squinting at her, Lerche smiled with a carefree expression. 

“And yet somehow, frail as you are, you narrowly escaped the jaws of death and realized you must return. Perhaps you’ve learned to fear death… In which case, would you entrust the war to us Sirins?” 

As grave as her words were, she spoke as casually as ever. She’d likely guessed at Shin’s answer but still wanted to hear him confirm it. That was what her tone implied. 

“Well—” 

And so Shin replied composedly. 

“—humans really aren’t… I’m really not a life-form made for battle. And I never will be. But humans aren’t going to discard their bodies. We’re imperfect and cowardly, just like you said.” 

“In that case—” 

“But,” Shin interrupted, “so what? Your dignity is none of our business. We decided fighting to the very end was our pride, and we’re not going to give that up. I don’t want to die a pathetic death. It doesn’t matter if my body isn’t meant to fight or survive on this battlefield. I can’t run from this war. And on top of all that…” 

For a moment, he hesitated to finish the thought. He wasn’t used to voicing it. Up until just recently, he’d believed he shouldn’t have wishes…that he didn’t want to have wishes. 

Someday, I want to become happy with someone. 

“…I want to live alongside other people. So I can’t pick one or the other… Because I’m…” 

Unlike Lerche and the other Sirins, who’d died long ago. Unlike his comrades, who’d died before he did and had their ghosts taken in by the Legion. 

“…I’m still alive.” 

Lerche chuckled out loud at his answer. 

“You wish to not give up on anything and gain more on top of that… Such a refreshing display of greed, worthy of the living. Splendid,” Lerche said, stifling her laughter but with that smile still on her lips. 

She fixed her shining, emerald eyes—those glass eyes, which were only slightly inhuman in appearance—at him. 

“But I will still insist there’s no need for you to be on the battlefield. I swear those words upon our pride and dignity, human.” 

This death bird built for battle uttered those words with a smile. Shin simply scoffed at her playfully, knowing that day would never come. He wouldn’t let it. 

“Just try it, sword.” 

Lena had been informed of the operation’s completion, but it had all happened ninety kilometers away. She had no way of seeing the smoke trail into the sky from the mountain’s peak, even if the explosives were powerful enough to destroy the whole base. Still, they weren’t capable of toppling the mountain altogether. The blast did nothing to even visibly shake the massive monolith. 

Meaning that, from where Lena was, she couldn’t notice any change even if she was to gaze directly at the mountain. And so the reserve formation’s units simply waited for the prince, who had headed into enemy territory with the birds of death and the other comrades they had fought alongside so far. 

The silver layer coating the sky grew thinner little by little. The Eintagsfliege were the smallest and lightest of all Legion units, and so the amount of electricity they were capable of retaining in their bodies was small. As the swarm of metal butterflies ran out of energy, they began heading south, and since none of them came back, the density of the clouds began to thin out. 

Like the staff officers of the United Kingdom predicted, once the Legion lost the Dragon Fang Mountain base, the Eintagsfliege couldn’t remain deployed in the sky. The blue skies were, little by little, returning. 

And as morning rose on the first day in months where a clear azure sky spread above them, the Dragon Fang Mountain attack force returned to the reserve formation. 

The deep azure of a summer sky contrasted the snowy peaks. Even in the north, the sun of early summer shone bright, and the snow began to melt as it was suddenly exposed to intense sunlight. Thawed snow flowed into the rivers with a speed and intensity that made it clear their basins would likely overflow soon. 

The attack force returned, stepping over the sticky, melting snow. Heavy transports pulled over one after another, with the Processors getting out of the cabins, clad in their steel-blue flight suits. Raiden approached Lena. Shin was out of commission, so Raiden took over his authority as operations commander of the 2nd Armored Corps. Raiden saluted and spoke: 

“Colonel Milizé, the Eighty-Sixth Strike Package has returned.” 

“Good work, First Lieutenant Shion and First Lieutenant Shuga. And everyone else, too. Please enjoy a well-deserved rest.” 

That concluded the etiquette a superior officer was to show her subordinates. All the Processors, Raiden included, visibly relaxed at her words. Some of them already started chattering, and the fire-control squad’s Processors hurried over to join in. The reserve formation was soon full of talk and tumult. 

First Lieutenant Shion and the other Processors walked past Raiden and left the armored transport. “We’re back,” some said. “Good job, Colonel,” others said. They walked by, talking among themselves. 

And one figure, clad in the same steel-blue uniform and a teal scarf, approached her. The tattered state of his flight suit and scarf silently told the story of how he’d done something unbelievably reckless yet again. Guren grimaced bitterly as Fido lowered Undertaker, which was in a state of utter disrepair yet again, while Touka grinned. 

But still, he had returned. Just as Lena hoped he would. And so she had to keep up her end of the bargain. Shin walked up to her, and she greeted him. Not as a commanding officer, but on a personal level. She smiled. 

“You said you’d come back.” 

Shin froze up, taken by surprise. Lena tried to smile, but she did in fact harbor some anger. Perhaps it showed in her expression, but she didn’t know since she couldn’t see her own face. 

“Er… I did come back, though.” Perhaps his throat was aching, because his voice came out a bit hoarse. 

And Lena knew why his throat was in pain, which only served to anger her further. 

“Raiden reported the circumstances behind the recovery of the Merciless Queen. And the medics gave me your diagnosis. Raiden will retain your right to command until the medics say otherwise. Understood?” 

Shin fell silent. He looked past Lena, likely scanning ahead for Raiden. After searching for the right words—which, from Lena’s perspective, seemed more like he was trying to find an excuse—he eventually gave up and slumped his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You better be sorry! Why…why do you always put yourself in so much danger…?!” 

Excuses like I had to or I had no choice didn’t carry much weight here. She told him to come back, and he told her he would. So this meant he had an obligation to return…and doing something that would get him killed should have been utterly out of the question. 

And what if he had actually died…? Feeling a surge of emotion in her heart, Lena choked up. She somehow managed to hold back the tears, however. When Raiden told her of the night’s events, she had been unable to stop shaking, even though she knew it all ended well. 

“I was so, so worried… If the Merciless Queen didn’t happen to go where you were… If they’d have rescued you any later, you could have died…” 

“………” 

“You can’t do that. Never do anything that stupid, ever again. Rely on the people around you. Don’t choose to sacrifice yourself. Never ever make that choice again.” 

“…I’m sorry.” 

But then, a mischievous smile played across his lips. The first carefree smile he showed her in a while. 

“Well, it’s not like you pulled any crazy stunts yourself, did you, Lena?” 

Lena stiffened awkwardly. 

“O-of course not.” 

“Really, now? I suppose I’ll ask Shiden later.” 

“Well, Shiden is on my side, so don’t expect any honest answers out of her,” Lena scoffed. 

Shin’s smile deepened. 

“So you’re saying you did do something.” 

“Huh…? Ah!” Lena realized what she’d said and clasped a hand over her mouth. 

Shin laughed out loud, his shoulders rising and falling. 

“Didn’t you tell me you were waiting?” 

“………” 

Lena sulked at having her own words used against her. 

“And you risked your life carelessly even after saying that?” 

“…Jerk.” 

She had no other retort. She couldn’t come up with anything else, but she couldn’t stand saying nothing, either. This only made Shin laugh a little bit harder. She turned around, sulking, and he followed her, half a step behind. Lena then slowed down, and he stood right beside her. She looked up at his red eyes and spoke again. 

This time, the words came from the bottom of her heart, her smile filled with genuine joy. The truth was, she always wanted to say this. Ever since two years ago, when she told him not to leave her behind. When she bid this boy, whose face she did not know at the time, good-bye and sent him on his way. 

She always longed to say these words. If she’d seen him off, she wanted to say these words when he returned. With a smile, as they stood face-to-face. 

“Welcome back.” 

He smiled gently as he looked back at her with warm, crimson eyes. 

“Yeah… I’m back.” 

Two years ago, they had parted ways without knowing each other’s faces, knowing each other only by name. 

Six months ago, they both spoke to each other in person after surviving the chaos of war. 

And three months ago, they reunited at their final destination, meeting face-to-face at long last. 

And now, they would finally grow closer. Even if there were things they could neither yield nor agree on, even if they were utterly different—they would fight to stay together, no matter how much effort it took. Even without putting these emotions into words, the two understood this.