86 - Volume 6 - Chapter Pr

For the Eighty-Six, death is a way of life. 

—EIGHTY-SIXTH STRIKE PACKAGE, 

MISCELLANEOUS JOURNAL SCRAWLING 

PROLOGUE 

HARSH MISTRESS 

The Legion do not dream. 

Dreams were the brain’s way of sorting through memories. And though the Legion’s Liquid Micromachines were modeled after a large mammal’s central nervous system, they were still only mechanical. They didn’t need to execute the same process. 

And for that reason, she would never dream again. 

<<No Face to Mistress>> 

An incoming transmission from one of her consort units roused her from the twilit void of her standby mode. Her optical sensor whirred to life. For the first time in the ten years since this body of hers had been put into operation, she got the impression that her fuselage was beginning to creak. 

The United Kingdom—which she was currently fighting—had branded her the Merciless Queen. Her armor was glacial-white and had been emblazoned with the Personal Mark of a goddess leaning against a crescent moon. She’d long since lost the machine guns she had once been equipped with. She was, after all, the last of the original production line of Ameise: the Scout-type Legion. 

The transmission was relayed through the Eintagsfliege blanketing the sky and the Rabe—the Sentry-type Legion—lording even higher above them. It reached her from far beyond her hiding place in the Dragon Fang Mountain. 

<<Operation objective incomplete. Requesting explanation as to why operation objectives were rescinded.>> 

She resisted the urge to sigh. Of course, she’d long since discarded the mouth, throat, and lungs needed to do so, but old habits were not so easily forgotten. 

<<Rescinded? The objective was completed, No Face. In the wake of this operation, the United Kingdom has lost the majority of its Alkonosts. The enemy front line has fallen, and we have successfully gained footing in their territory. In the next operation, we will penetrate their defensive line and bring the fighting to open terrain: the arena where we Legion…where armored weapons reign supreme.>> 

In a cold, calm, and collected manner, she asserted that the unicorns of the north were on the brink of collapse. From hundreds of kilometers away, No Face responded to her report. No Face served as second-in-command of the Legion’s unified wide-area tactical network’s command echelon: a Supreme Commander unit that oversaw the offensive against multiple nations. No Face also doubled as one of the Supreme Commander units in charge of the control network that handled decision-making for the Legion across the continent. 

He—it was assumed that No Face had once been a man anyway—was a commander unit created by assimilating the neural network of a dead human being, so he likely retained trace memories and personality quirks from his time among the living. 

But the Legion’s communications were secured, and in the process of encrypting and decrypting messages, the speaker’s idiosyncrasies tended to be ironed out. When her own words were transmitted to No Face, they likely came across as the dull, emotionless noises of a machine, as well. 

<<Capture of primary targets—Báleygr, Hve?rungr, and Minerva—is not yet complete.>> 

These three high-priority targets were in the anti–United Kingdom front—her designated war zone. 

The name and personal history of Báleygr, the unique individual capable of pinpointing the Legion’s whereabouts, were unknown to the Legion. 

Hve?rungr was the code name for the developer of the United Kingdom’s drone-piloting system—the Sirins. His name was unconfirmed, but he was presumed to be Viktor Idinarohk, the fifth prince of the United Kingdom. 

Minerva was the code name for a Republic engineer. Her name: Henrietta Penrose. 

The former two were confirmed to be present at the United Kingdom base during the last battle. Minerva was not detected at the time, but intel suggested she had moved from the Republic to the Federacy—and from there to the United Kingdom. 

<<Is their capture imperative to the completion of the Legion’s directive?>> 

<<It carries strategic significance. In addition, there is high probability that Báleygr may be a worthy successor to receive total command over the Legion. Receipt of new directives is the primary objective of the unified network at present.>> 

<<…………>> 

The Legion were siege weapons developed by the Giadian Empire. Even after all this time, their goal had not changed. The Legion identified humankind as a target marked for destruction—even after the Empire had fallen—in accordance with their fallen nation’s dying will. They were adhering to their final order: Wipe out the enemy. 

The Legion never once rose in revolt against humankind. They were obedient tools incepted by flesh-and-blood people—albeit people who were no longer alive—and they were simply following orders. Seeking out a human to lead them was an instinct hardwired into their central processors. 

The Legion were initially created to fill the roles of rank-and-file soldiers and low-ranking officers. High-ranking officers—who were exclusively human—would still be in charge of strategy and delegation. 

One of the safety measures applied to the Legion’s initial directive specified that if they went a certain period of time without receiving new orders, they were to request orders from a member of their assigned leadership. And if no such person was available, they were to seek out a successor they deemed fit to command them. 

And as No Face had stated, Báleygr was a potential successor to receiving this right to command the Legion. Mixed Onyx and Pyrope blood was seen as a mark of the Giadian Imperial bloodline. High-ranking nobles vehemently rejected the mixing of different bloodlines, and old households in possession of special abilities were particularly opposed to the idea. There was no telling how the heterogenic aspects of their bloodline might influence each other once mixed, after all. 

Taking this into consideration, it was generally accepted there could be no mixed bloodline other than the Imperial bloodline. And it was probable that the current administration had repeatedly dispatched Báleygr to frontline missions, where the mortality rate was exceptionally high, out of a belief that the old ruling class would be a hindrance to the new regime. However… 

She sank into contemplation. According to the optical footage captured by the Phönix, Báleygr was a soldier in his late teens. And there was no heir to the Imperial bloodline in that age range, even among the branch families. If there was, there would have been no need to crown the Imperial princess, who had still been an infant at the time of her coronation… 

That soldier could not be the “emperor” the Legion sought… 

But No Face’s next transmission derailed her train of thought. 

<<Mistress. Did you lure Báleygr into your designated war zone?>> 

For a moment, she kept quiet. His assumption was correct. That was her intent when she delivered that message through the Phönix. She had programmed a unit that should not have been defeated to relay her words in the unlikely event that it was. The message would contain nothing of discernible value; it was a mere summons to draw Báleygr to her, without giving so much as a hint of her whereabouts. 

Except… 

<<That’s our objective, isn’t it, No Face…? Is there a problem with that?>> 

<<Negative. After Báleygr is lured to the designated location, he must be exterminated.>> 

………? 

She fell into puzzled silence. If she still had eyebrows, she would have surely furrowed them by now. 

<<Are we not seeking a successor?>> 

That was what No Face had said earlier. Such was the Legion’s collective will. She was one of the Supreme Commander units in charge of the unified network, and even she couldn’t resist the instincts hard-coded into the Legion, both in the case of absolute orders and absolute restrictions. 

<<Affirmative. Our mission is to seek out the successor to absolute command…>> 

No Face then cut out for a moment. He had paused, as if in confusion. But in the next moment, the malevolent chill befitting a commander of the Legion—they that stood in stark opposition to all remaining spheres of human influence—filled his voice once more. 

It was the unwavering tone of one that would slaughter anything and everything. 

<<…and swiftly dispose of him.>>