86 - Volume 8 - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 

MOBY-DICK; OR, THE WHALE 

Beneath a thick, gloomy, clouded sky was the black, leaden surface of the sea. Jagged ebony rocks littered the reef-filled coast as the melancholic roar of the ocean blotted out the cries of the seabirds. In the distance, one could see the wreckage of battleships stacked together in heaps as they lined the panorama. 

“…I guess that’s the sea,” Shin said, looking away from his first view of the ocean. 

“No, ’tis not! Not like this!” Frederica raised her voice, stamping her feet in protest. 

I want to see the sea. 

Whenever that thought crossed her mind, Frederica imagined a blue, sparkling sea beneath a bright, sunny sky, or white shores full of coral remains. Sea spray reflecting the sunlight and palm trees, beautiful flowers surrounded by the cheerful chirping of gulls. 

The sea being black wasn’t due only to the dark clouds, incidentally. It was because of the rocks and sand at the ocean’s bottom, which meant that even in fine weather, the seawater here would still be black. It would always be black. And since the water’s temperature was freezing year-round, they couldn’t swim in it, either. 

“And what is this rotten smell in the air?! What is the meaning of this…this stench…?!” 

“Isn’t it supposed to smell like salt? I don’t really know, though.” 

He’d read something to that effect at one point, but he wasn’t actually sure. Even if he did run into the scent of the salty sea, he wouldn’t recognize it. 

“…Ugh. Finally, we are at sea, but I know not what to do…!” 

Frederica spoke with tears in her eyes as she glared reproachfully at a wave loudly crashing against the rocks. She felt as if her expectations had been thoroughly dashed, and she had nowhere to let out those pent-up emotions. 

“Are you satisfied with this?!” she asked Shin angrily. “Did you not tell Vladilena that you wished to show her the sea?! To see it alongside her?! Surely, this is not the sea you imagined!” 

“I’ll admit this wasn’t exactly what I was expecting…,” Shin said, then turned to look at someone standing in the distance. 

They still hadn’t spoken since. 

“But Lena seems happy with this either way.” 

Looking ahead, he could see Lena struck speechless, her pale face beaming as she watched the waves rise and fall. Appreciating her reaction through a sidelong glance, Shin couldn’t help but crack a smile himself. 

“You two… You truly are…” 

From far away, they could hear a “song”—like the blowing of a thin, silvery flute, riding gently along the waves. 

“That ‘singing’ from earlier was from one of the largest specimens. The cry of a fifty-meter class, just like this girl. Hearing it isn’t unusual in the Fleet Countries, but you’re quite lucky to catch it on your first day here.” 

They stood in the lobby of a military base, which was originally a museum attached to the naval university. It was requisitioned at the start of the war and converted into a base. 

Standing in the center of the lobby was one jovial officer, wearing an indigo-navy uniform with crimson lining. He had a beautiful tattoo of a firebird spreading its wings etched onto his face. It extended from his forehead, ran along the edge of his left eye, and traveled all the way down to his cheekbone. 

His serene voice rang out sonorously in the salty sea breeze. His skin was tanned, and his bright-brown hair seemed like it was faded by sunlight. He had a Jade’s faint-green eyes, which were probably his natural-born color. 

And yet the Strike Package’s eyes weren’t fixed on him. Their attention was arrested by the large object suspended imposingly—though perhaps a bit less so by how cramped it looked—from the navicular ceiling. 

It was a massive skeleton of a beast, far too large to exist on land in modern times. 

“Hunting this girl is our Orphan Fleet’s proudest accomplishment—or so I’d like to say, but she died of natural causes and drifted ashore. They also caught a lot of fish and ate them with oil when they picked her up. A pretty good day for them, all in all. The scholars really struggled to get the skeleton packed and preserved, though.” 

Its long spine extended like a thousand-year-old tree, resembling a dragon in shape, carrying with it a rib cage wide enough for a person to reasonably live in. It had a long neck, which was connected to a jagged skull. 

Even when reduced to a skeleton, its sheer size and majesty was overwhelming. Shin thought he’d seen a similar creature’s skeleton once before. It was long before he had been sent to the internment camp, in some museum. A sample of a large creature, whose bones he had once mistaken for a dragon’s… 

“We loaned her to the Republic of San Magnolia’s royal museum before the war, so some of you may have seen her before. If you have, don’t be shy and raise your hands. Come now!” 

Apparently, it wasn’t just similar. It was the very same skeleton. Shin held his tongue, however, and no one else raised their hand. The museum in question was in Liberté et Égalité, which had a predominantly Celena population. The majority of the people present in this room were Eighty-Six, and their families wouldn’t go there. 

The Orphan Fleet officer looked amazed. 

“My, that’s strange… The little ones are usually more excited to see it. Oh well. Anyway, her name is Nicole. Feel free to call her Nikki, though. Even a leviathan isn’t as scary when it’s just a skeleton like this, right?” 

This creature was called a leviathan. A belligerent marine animal that reigned supreme in the deep, dark seas—especially the open seas around the continent’s shores—since before recorded history. To be exact, it was a species of such hostile marine creatures. 

Even as humankind spread throughout the continent, the leviathans remained the supreme rulers of the ocean, refusing to vacate their watery throne by impeding voyages out to sea. That remained true to this day, when humans came in steel crafts loaded with weapons. Any weapon and platform produced by humankind were a target for the leviathans’ ire. 

That was why humankind couldn’t use any waters that were beyond the coastal areas. All sea trade and transport routes, the operation of fishing boats, and the deployment of military vessels were limited to a small area of water near the shores. 

The sea wasn’t the world of humanity. Humankind couldn’t leave the continent. And only one country saw that fact as unacceptable—and deemed it unacceptable still. 

“So, with that said, I will be working alongside you this time. Captain of the Stella Maris, the flagship of the Regicide integrated navy’s Orphan Fleet. Call me Ishmael Ahab. You can feel free to call me Captain Ishmael, Colonel Ishmael, or Uncle Ishmael. Not Captain Ahab, though. That’s what we called my late old man…the fleet commander.” 

And that zone was the Strike Package’s next dispatch site, the Regicide Fleet Countries. A cluster of countries borne from a fleet of battleships that sought to conquer the seas and exterminate the leviathans. 

In the past, seafaring tribes existed across the shores of the continent. The last eleven of those tribes formed the eleven Fleet Countries, which developed the only fleet in the continent capable of taking to the open seas, with a flagship built to oppose the leviathans. 

Shin and the Strike Package had gathered in this hall to receive the outline of the coming operation from him. Behind him stood a slightly older woman, who parted her lips. She was also perfectly clad in an indigo-navy uniform and had a red tattoo in the shape of scales over her dark skin. 

“It’s about time you wrap up your little chat, Brother. The Strike Package’s members might leave if you don’t hurry.” 

“Oh, sorry, sorry. I just thought we should introduce good old Nikki first… Ah, this composed beauty right here is my younger sister and deputy, Lieutenant Esther. You can feel free to call her Estie… Oops.” 

Lieutenant Esther glared at him wordlessly, which made him duck his head. 

A young officer of mixed L’asile and Orienta heritage with a peony tattoo carried in a white board, setting it behind them and leaving wordlessly. 

“All right, let’s give you the outline, then. Our open-sea fleet will ferry you over to the Mirage Spire base, so you guys are to take over the fortress and destroy the Morpho. That is all.” 

“…” 

A strained…or rather exasperated silence settled over the Eighty-Six. As if they were wondering if this man was really in the position to command anyone. Lena chimed in to supplement his explanation. 

“The Mirage Spire is located near the open sea, which borders the leviathan’s territory. Neither the Federacy nor the United Kingdom have vessels capable of sailing through these waters. As such, the Strike Package will be relying on the supercarrier and its fleet for ferrying and protection over the sea.” 

With the supercarrier as its crux, the open-sea fleet was a convoy of long-distance cruisers weighing ten thousand tonnes, six-thousand-tonne anti-leviathan vessels, scout vessels optimized for tracking the leviathans’ movements, as well as supply ships. 

Before the Legion War, each of the eleven Fleet Countries had a fleet of their own, and those eleven fleets populated the northern seas. Since the start of the war, those fleets were employed for the sake of defending the land, with many of them sunk and each fleet only having a few ships remaining… 

Hence the integrated fleet, Shin thought as he recalled Ishmael’s introduction. None of the eleven fleets had enough remaining ships to operate on its own, and so they gathered their ships together, forming a large integrated fleet: the Orphan Fleet. 

Lieutenant Esther continued, using magnets to attach the operation map to the white board. At the bottom of the map was the coastline of the Fleet Countries. At the center was a red dot marking their objective. The majority of the map was colored blue, though, symbolizing the sea. 

“The Orphan Fleet will handle your trip to the objective and back, and it’ll also create a diversion. The Morpho is currently estimated to have a range of four hundred kilometers. By comparison, the Orphan Fleet’s maximal cruising speed is thirty knots.” 

“When converted to ground units of measurements, it comes to…fifty kilometers per hour.” 

“Huh. That’s slow.” 

“Who just said that?! I’ll beat you silly. Do you have any idea how many tonnes the supercarrier weighs? We’re talking five digits here. Don’t expect it to go as fast as your little daddy-longlegs Feldreß when it doesn’t even weigh ten tonnes.” 

“Brother, I understand how you feel, but we need to move things along. Please back down,” Lieutenant Esther said. 

“Second Lieutenant Oriya, that was out of line,” Lena chided Rito. 

“Sorry.” 

Seeing Ishmael and Rito both fall silent, Esther paused as if to recall what she was going to say and then continued: 

“…Yes, so maximal speed of thirty knots. In other words, it would take us seven hours to breach the Morpho’s bombardment range in a straight line and reach the Mirage Spire base. As we do, two of the integrated navy’s general fleets will set sail beforehand to draw the Morpho’s fire from us and attempt to approach the Mirage Spire.” 

Esther placed a transparent cover over the map and began writing on it. Two lines from the shore to the Mirage Spire—likely at the shortest distance from their home port. She then took a different colored pen, drawing a line from the Orphan Fleet’s home base to the north and then changing directions to the southeast, heading for the Mirage Spire. 

“Before the diversion begins, we will stealthily set sail. We’ll sail north along the edge of the bombardment range, docking at the Flightfeather archipelago. After the enemy begins engaging the diversion fleet, we’ll enter the bombardment range while hiding within the storm. In other words, we will be waiting for the storm to come and begin the operation as soon as it does.” 

“Incidentally, the Legion aren’t capable of naval combat, so we won’t have to worry about fighting any other Legion except for the Morpho…,” Ishmael added. “Or at least, the Orphan Fleet hasn’t detected any naval Legion types over the last decade of fighting.” 

Esther nodded. 

“As unfortunate as it is, our country is a small one. We believe that rather than trying to create effective weapons against us in the north, the Legion decided to sink their resources into developing effective methods for combating the Federacy and the United Kingdom.” 

“The sad reality of things is that even without producing any naval units, they’re still giving us enough trouble as it is.” 

“…” 

This was a joke that left foreigners like the Strike Package at a loss for how to respond. That was probably why there weren’t any naval Legion types, however… Shin cocked his head slightly and raised a question. 

“But…there are a few small Legion groups out at sea. Based on how they’re moving, I’m guessing they’re patrol groups. What about them?” 

“Mm? Oh… I see. You’re the one the rumors were about.” 

Ishmael gazed at Shin in puzzlement for a moment, before nodding in realization. Apparently, he’d heard of Shin’s ability. 

“Those aren’t naval units; they’re mother ships for launching advance recon units. The Morpho needs them to accurately shoot at any approaching vessels. I’m sure you know this already, but the Rabe can’t remain airborne over the sea.” 

Lena turned to face Shin in surprise, but he simply nodded. The reason for that was unclear, but there weren’t any Rabe units over the sea. The Morpho was a long-distance cannon without anything to guide it. Its accuracy wasn’t high. 

This wasn’t like the large-scale offensive, where it was firing salvos at large, clear, and fixed targets that couldn’t evade its shots, like bases and fortresses. This time, it was up against moving targets on the large, vast sea. If it was going to hit any small ships without a Rabe to assist it, it would need advance recon units. 

“The diversion fleet will handle distracting and sinking those recon-unit ships, as well, so you don’t need to worry about them. You’ve got nothing to worry about to begin with; the supercarrier isn’t going to sink, no matter what.” 

Maybe Ishmael decided there was no point explaining marine maneuvers to child soldiers who had never experienced naval combat. Maybe it was some kind of pride, as if to say naval combat was the Orphan Fleet’s field and they should just leave it to them. He even skimmed over the topic of their transportation on the way to the base and smiled cheerily. 

“The Orphan Fleet is very grateful to have you here, Eighty-Six. And that’s why…we swear it on the Stella Maris’s name: We will return the Strike Package to safety, no matter the cost.” 

The requisitioned university’s dorms served as the Strike Package’s barracks for the duration of the mission. Its corridors’ floors were lined with tile mosaics in an ancient design typical to the far south. 

Theo wandered through these corridors alone after the lights went out. He ran into Rito, who left what looked like an office with a bundle of thin paper booklets under his arm. 

“…What are you doing here?” 

“Ah, Second Lieutenant Rikka.” 

Perhaps Rito had grown taller, because Theo got the impression that his eyes were closer to his than they were a few months ago. 

“Well, you see, I figured they might have a few more left over, so I came in to ask, and they did. I thought that even if they’re not useful now, they’ll be good for when the war ends,” Rito said, speaking quickly. “They said they’ll be recruiting from outside the country, too.” 

“…Rito, I get that it was my fault for asking you out of nowhere, but could you sort out your thoughts before you talk instead of saying things as soon as they come to mind?” 

“Ah, yes, sir. I’ve been hearing that a lot recently. Er… The university here has a senior high school attached to it. These are study materials for it. I figured I’d take them back to the base’s study room so the people who didn’t come here could read them, too.” 

Rito’s face then lit up. 

“But did you see that?! The leviathan! That thing’s amazing! It’s like a real monster!” 

Theo recalled that Rito was one of the younger Processors. When some of the bigwigs gave them comics or movies or cartoons, he would watch them religiously. Monster films were some of his favorites, apparently. 

Theo thought it was heartwarming. And honestly, he and a lot of the older Processors did like that kind of entertainment, too, given that they hadn’t had access to anything like it since they were little children. 

“So you want to work in something that involves the leviathans? After the war ends.” 

“I just thought it might be cool. It sounds fun.” 

“You’ve really started thinking about all sorts of things, haven’t you?” 

“All sorts of things” included wanting to dig up fossils in the Alliance and wanting to invent a flying bike. 

“Ah, yeah. I mean, I…” He trailed off, as if in thought. “First Lieutenant Rikka, do you know Ludmila? One of the Sirins. Tall, with red hair?” 

“…Yeah.” 

Tall, with red hair… 

Come now, everyone. By all means. 

It was like a chilling presentation of the end that awaited the Eighty-Six. They were different from the Sirins. They knew that. But it felt like, just like the Sirins, their deaths might go unrewarded. 

“What about Ludmila?” 

“During the Dragon Fang Mountain operation, I was in the same squad as her. At the time, I was still scared of the Sirins, but then she started talking to me.” 

It occurred to Theo that Rito really did stop being terrified of the Sirins at some point. 

“She told me to be happy. To live as I want. And I…I think I realized. The Sirins, they…they were just worried about us in their own way.” 

The glow of the old light bulbs lit up his golden eyes. Agate eyes, like those of a thoughtful, innocent animal. 

“They were concerned for us. In the Eighty-Sixth Sector, they told us to die, but things are different here. The Federacy wants us to study, and that’s a chore, but that’s only because they’re trying to tell us to live however we want, right? So we can do anything we’d like and go wherever we want.” 

Go wherever you want. See whatever you wish. Do whatever you’d like. Once the war ends. Or even if it doesn’t end, and you leave the army. That’s… 

“That’s something we can wish for. In the Eighty-Sixth Sector, all we had was pride. We had nothing else, and we didn’t want anything else. But now it’s different… I understand that, so I want to wish for all sorts of things.” 

All the things he couldn’t wish for in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. The many things he was deprived of. 

Theo listened to his words, dumbfounded. He’d thought Rito had grown taller, but it wasn’t just that. At some point, he’d become capable of thinking and saying these kinds of things. 

Rito was…trying to leave the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

And that left Theo dumbfounded. He was happy that Shin had learned to wish for the future. He saw Raiden and Anju were trying to move on, too, and he was pleased with that as well. But it wasn’t just them. It was Rito, too. And there were probably so many of them going through the same thing. Theo just didn’t notice. 

They were leaving the battlefield. 

Rito looked at him with a carefree smile, unaware of the shock Theo was in. 

“So for now, I want to examine all sorts of options… Our operations take us all over the continent, so I may as well bring the interesting things back for everyone to see.” 

<<…You intend to try reading a Shepherd’s central processor to expose the secret headquarters’ position?>> 

Shin had assumed she might have information pertinent to the operation, but she didn’t have any communication features she could use. And so he had Zelene’s container brought along with the 1st Armored Division, disguised as a munitions container. 

The container itself sat in a hidden cargo space within the transport vehicle. Since anything regarding the shutdown measure had to be kept from the ears of anyone else, Shin had to find the right time to visit her. 

<<So basically, you’re gambling on the possibility that someone from the Imperial faction or a high-ranking officer is a Shepherd. There are probably other ways you could discover the position, though. The Federacy’s adopted quite the cold-blooded approach itself, I see.>> 

“Is it possible?” 

<<There are certainly Shepherds who were originally part of the Imperial faction.>> 

Shin had some mixed feelings about that answer. A certain sense of conflict had been smoldering within him ever since Zelene told him about the shutdown measure. He did want the war to end. But the method Zelene told him for ending the war and discovering the hidden headquarters… He just couldn’t help but feel something wasn’t right. 

<<Their names and deployment points are— Warning. Violation of prohibited article— No good. I can’t verbalize it.>> 

And that was why part of him was relieved when Zelene’s voice suddenly turned cold and emotionless, cutting her own words off. He didn’t want to sacrifice Frederica. Fighting to the very end meant relying on their own strength until the very end of the war. It didn’t mean clinging to a miracle. 

And on top of that…while they might be the enemy, Shin didn’t want to view the Shepherds—the ghosts of the war dead—as mere mechanical parts. 

<<Either way, the Legion do possess the information the Federacy seeks. And as for reading the information from their central processors… If nothing else, that is how we Shepherds exist.>> 

Their memories—the information stored within their brain—was read and transferred into another vessel. It shouldn’t be impossible, both theoretically and technologically… If it was possible, then someday… There was something Shin felt he had to confirm at some point. 

<<However, there are other ways that don’t require you to be fixated on finding the Imperial faction’s Shepherds. For example, said orders are transmitted to the commander units in each base through a communications satellite. Should that satellite be destroyed, the closest Rabe units should come in to cover and compensate—>> 

“Zelene. Before that…there’s something I’d like to ask.” 

<<Mm? What is it?>> 

This was a doubt he’d been harboring since his initial conversation with Zelene. And this was why he’d been afraid of the idea that his ability might allow him to speak with a Shepherd. The truth behind what might be his sin. 

“You can hear my voice. And being a Shepherd, you can understand what I’m saying, too. Does that hold true for other Shepherds?” 

It felt as if Zelene intended to cock her to one side but couldn’t. 

<<Yes. Though, that said, it’s faint. It’s probably because you are right in front of me, and there are no other Legion units in the vicinity… So this doesn’t mean your presence exposes where you might be attacking or where your unit is deployed.>> 

“That’s not what I meant…” 

He didn’t want to ask that question. He didn’t, and he didn’t want to hear the answer, either. But he had to ask. 

“If they could hear and understand me, and we had a means of mutual understanding, like you and me right now, would it be possible I’d be able to speak with other Shepherds?” 

To fight, kill, and bury. He always thought he had no choice but to do that. But what if they didn’t really have to kill and meaninglessly hurt each other? What if they could peacefully converse and reach a mutual understanding? 

He’d once thought he was hated, that they could never understand each other. But at the very last moment, his brother’s burning, illusory hand delivered a single, final word. He’d heard his true feelings. 

Could he have avoided that cruel final farewell? 

“Could I have spoken…with my brother…?” 

Zelene fell silent for a moment. 

<<…I see. You had a brother. A family member who had been assimilated by the Legion.>> 

He gave a small nod… He couldn’t muster up the words to tell her what happened. Not now. 

<<And you defeated him. The Shepherd who was your precious brother.>> 

“…Yes.” 

<<I see…>> 

It felt as if she’d fallen into contemplative silence. After a moment, she spoke softly. 

<<Before I answer your question, let me ask you something in turn… Am I human?>> 

It was Shin’s turn to fall silent. 

“Well—” 

That was a question Lerche had once asked him. And at the time, he couldn’t give an answer. If he was asked whether Lerche or Zelene were human or not, he couldn’t confidently say yes to either. His ability to hear the wailing of their ghosts coldly confirmed that fact. Zelene was not human. She was not alive. She was a ghost— No, even less than that. She was the ruined remains of a ghost. 

But Shin couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t tell her, to her face, that she wasn’t human. He simply couldn’t. 

Zelene apparently noticed his conflict, and somehow, he could sense her smile. 

<<You’re sweet.>> 

“…” 

<<You’re a good boy. If possible, I’d love to be your friend. I truly feel that way. But neither I nor your brother can befriend you anymore. And you understand why, don’t you? It’s because…>> 

…They were Legion. 

<<The only reason I can converse with you is because I am restrained. Because all my sensors are sealed. In terms of my sensors, I can’t even acknowledge that you’re right in front of me. If I did… If I acknowledged that there was a human being standing in my vicinity… I would not be able to retain enough of my reasoning to hold a conversation. That’s what becoming a Shepherd means. You become a machine for slaughter. You may have a human personality, but you’re still a monster, driven by destructive impulses.>> 

In the United Kingdom, it was Zelene’s hand. In the Eighty-Sixth Sector, it was his brother’s hand. Hands extended in malice and bloodlust. But in the moments before he was destroyed, his brother’s hand was gentle. 

<<That’s true for me as well. You’re a kind boy, and I wish to befriend you. And that is precisely why I feel the urge to kill you.>> 

At that moment, Zelene’s voice was indeed full of bloodlust. The Legion’s unique, artificial bloodlust. The irrational bloodlust of an autonomous killing machine, which didn’t need reasons or justifications for killing humans. 

<<And it holds just as true for your brother. As a Shepherd, your brother could do nothing but try to kill you. His instincts as a murder machine bid him to kill any human he faced, and he was powerless to oppose them. And while you might be capable of restraining an Ameise, you would not have been able to keep a Dinosauria captive. So let me tell you this… You did not make a mistake.>> 

Shin looked up in shock. Zelene was inside the container and not before his eyes, but…he thought he could feel a pair of kind eyes look into his own. 

<<You thought you might have been able to spare him, didn’t you? That’s why you asked me. Very well, then. I’ll answer your question. You couldn’t have. You had no choice but to fight your brother. There was no way that your brother could have survived and lived alongside you. That fact had been etched into stone the moment your brother became a Shepherd… You did not lose him due to any mistake or negligence of your own.>> 

It wasn’t your fault. 

<<It was true back then, and it will continue to be true. The only way you have of dealing with the Legion…is by defeating us, and putting us to sleep.>> 

Grethe nodded within the holo-window, having received Lena’s report. 

“Good work… I’m sorry, Colonel Milizé. I had to leave those rascals in your care.” 

“Not at all. After all, you’re in charge of getting in touch with our next destination, the Holy Theocracy of Noiryanaruse.” 

This time, Grethe did not accompany the 1st Armored Division nor the 4th Armored Division, which was assigned to the southern front to attempt to restore communications with the southern countries. 

While two of the Strike Package’s Armored Divisions were on active duty at any one time, they could both be deployed to the same destination, or they might be dispatched to two different regions, like now. 

In other words, things were bad enough that they had to wear themselves thin. Lena furrowed her fair brow. 

“I’ve heard we’ve been receiving incessant requests to deploy, but I didn’t think things were that bad everywhere else…” 

She’d seen it when she stepped onto the Fleet Countries’ battlefield. Defensive perimeters that looked like they were on the verge of collapsing from severe attacks. Understaffed, exhausted soldiers. The terrible spectacle of the wreckage of sunken ships, littering the impoverished cities and the coastline. 

It made sense that they appealed for help as soon as the Federacy managed to restore communications with them. They’d been in desperate need of help, even if it were a force on the scale of the Strike Package. 

“It’s been ten years. Not many countries can sustain constant combat for that long.” 

“…” 

Only large countries like the United Kingdom and the Federacy, or countries protected by natural fortresses like the Alliance, had a large distance between the front lines and their home front. This place was different. 

But that made Lena wonder. Even if that was the case, why? The Fleet Countries and the Holy Theocracy, and any other country that had restored communications, were all asking for military aid. Even though they’d withstood the fighting for a decade and barely made it through last year’s large-scale offensive. It was as if in the year since the large-scale offensive, something had happened that made the war situation significantly worsen… 

Grethe then gave a dry cough, as if to do away with the suffocating silence. 

“By the way, Colonel? I think there’s another report you forgot to make.” 

“Huh?!” 

Lena hurriedly rummaged through her memory, while Grethe beamed at her. 

“Did you give Captain Nouzen your answer? How did it go?” 

Her own superior officer was breathing down her neck about this, too?! 

“I-I-I-I-I’m not sure what you’re talking about!” 

“Keeping a boy on his toes is a girl’s privilege, but if you leave him in suspense for too long, he’ll get fed up with you. I’ll have you know the captain looked very depressed after the whole thing happened.” 

Grethe then trailed off, grimacing as if she was thinking back on some unpleasant memory. Lena stood in front of the holo-window, her face red as a beet. She wished she could bury herself. 

“Looking at his face almost made me feel bad for that killer mantis… Which reminds me. Willem joined us on that trip for a reason. I wonder what became of that.” 

“You mentioned an information leak through the Sensory Resonance in the United Kingdom…” 

Since the research division had no role in the next mission, they stayed behind in the Strike Package’s home base, Rüstkammer. Sitting in her office, Annette spoke, viewing her guest suspiciously. 

She wasn’t very familiar with him, and he was visiting her outside work hours. But more important than that… 

“I’ve already given my report that the leak wasn’t from the Para-RAID, Chief of Staff Ehrenfried.” 

“Yes, I remember. However… How about this, Henrietta Penrose?” 

He gazed back at her with a thin smirk, his eyes glinting like blades. 

An attack operation on a naval fortress three hundred kilometers off the shore loomed ahead of them. There was no hope for any support from their allies, and it was a reckless charge into enemy lines. These could very well be the final days of the Eighty-Six. 

But they did not spend them brooding. Quite the opposite—they went out to town together and went to play by the sea. Life in the Eighty-Sixth Sector was always spent teetering on the edge of death. The battlefield was their homeland. Having lived their lives between one battle and the next, they often longed for the simplicities of life. 

Besides, for the majority of them, it was their first time seeing the sea. Even for those who were lucky enough to be born by the sea, it was their first time on the northern shores. Yes, to them, war was the daily routine. And while they did steel themselves for what was to come, they didn’t let their nerves deprive them of what pleasures they had. 

They would peer into the waters, following the movements of the fish. When a fish would surface, they would run away, realizing it was bigger than they thought. They would scare away the seabirds flocking about and pick small fish and crabs out of the tide pools. They weren’t familiar with how people usually played at the beach, but they didn’t need to know much to enjoy themselves. 

Standing with his back to that cheerful clamoring, Shin stood wordlessly on one of the rocks, gazing out at the boundless sea before him. 

No matter how many times I look at it, it’s… 

Raiden, who stood next to him, just as entranced by the sight, didn’t hide his sense of wonder. 

“…This is amazing. It really is just water, as far as the eye can see.” 

Thankfully, that day, the clouds had cleared away, and the sun was out. The pale-blue northern sky and the color of the sea weren’t as dark as they were the day prior. From the misty horizon in the distance, the cries of the seabirds somehow sounded like the meowing of cats. 

Incidentally, Lena felt bad about leaving her actual cat, TP, behind yet again, and so she brought him with her on this dispatch. He was currently loitering about in Lena’s room. Similarly, Fido, which was displeased at having been left behind for their trip to the Alliance, ignored Shin’s direct order to stay put and followed them to beach. It was currently helping Rito and Marcel fish. 

“And all this water’s got that taste, too. I wouldn’t believe it if it wasn’t right in front of me…” 

“You tasted it?” Shin asked him, thinking Raiden wasn’t some kind of child. 

All he got in return, however, was awkward silence. Apparently, he actually gave in to curiosity and licked some of the water. 

“What did it taste like?” 

“Like salt… Or, well, it kind of tasted fishy, too. You know how their local product is salted fish eggs? It was like that, but thinner,” Raiden said, then grimaced. “You actually thought that stuff was good? I thought it was weird, honestly.” 

Shin was puzzled by that question. Those red, salted fish eggs were brought onto their table in their stationed base’s cafeteria, along with jam and butter. Apparently, it was a traditional preserved foodstuff in the Fleet Countries. Most people thought it was strange and refused to eat it, but Shin heeded the staff’s recommendation and gave it a try. 

“Not really? It wasn’t particularly bad.” 

Though he had to admit he couldn’t call it entirely tasty, either. 

“…Your tongue’s as screwed up as you are, man…” 

Frederica, who was picking up seashells nearby, butted into their exchange. 

“Putting aside Shinei’s lacking sense of taste, I would say in this case, it’s very much a matter of preference. I, for one, found it quite palatable.” 

“Yeah, you were pigging out back there. You put a whole lot of sour cream on your toast.” Raiden nodded. 

“Yeah, and toast wasn’t the only thing you were devouring back there,” Shin appended, likewise nodding. 

“Ugh, how dare you speak of a lady in such a manner!” Frederica snapped at them, her face flushed. “T-true, I have gained some weight, but that is merely because I am at the height of my growing period!” 

They hadn’t meant to tease her, though. They were simply stating facts. 

“Yeah, we know. We meant it in a good way. A healthy appetite’s a good thing at your age, no?” 

“You need to eat more and gain weight if you’re going to grow, so eat all you like.” 

Frederica fell silent, a sullen expression on her face, then nodded with an oddly keen expression. 

“Indeed, I will mature. I cannot stay a child forever, after all.” 

There was something that bordered on the noble and tragic in her bloodred eyes. 

“And so… Waaah?!” She trailed off with a sudden yelp, tossing away a seashell she had picked up. “It moved! It just moved!” 

…Yeah, you’re still a kid, Shin and Raiden both concluded. 

As Frederica looked on in disgust, Raiden squatted down to see what she’d dropped. 

“Oh, is there something inside?” he asked. 

“No…” 

Meanwhile, Shin picked up a spiral shell from the sand and examined it quietly. Raiden approached him curiously, then fell silent. A pair of squirming, crusty legs wriggled from within the shell. 

“…I think that’s a hermit crab…” 

“Looking at it move from up close, it’s kinda grotesque…” 

“Since it’s you we’re talking about, you probably thought it was your duty as commander to prioritize the mission, Milizé.” 

Lena was in her temporary office in their base. She’d asked Ishmael to deliver all the latest combat data they could disclose, and she was now examining it. Vika sighed as he gazed at her, his Imperial violet eyes astonished. 

“No one would object if you went to the beach for a change of pace. The only reason I didn’t go is because I’ve seen the sea enough times already. It’s not particularly unusual to me.” 

“There is a vast expanse of sea beyond the northernmost borders of the United Kingdom, past the Frost Woe mountain range and the northern peaks,” Lerche, who was at Vika’s beck and call as always, appended. “In the winter, it’s completely covered in ice. It’s quite the spectacle.” 

It seemed Shin and the others had gone to play at the beach, so she was fine staying behind. 

“No… I just saw the sea yesterday, and I’ll see it during the operation later. But I thought the next time I should go see it by myself should be when the war ends.” 

Shin had told her he wanted to show her the sea, and she accepted that wish. So…even if she couldn’t answer his confessed feelings quite yet, she wanted to at least hang on to that wish. 

“We said we would go see the ocean when the war ends. So I want to keep that promise.” 

As Vika scoffed at her, the smile vanished from her lips as she turned to face him. 

“But more importantly, Vika. There’s something I need to ask you.” 

She’d asked Ishmael to show her the Fleet Countries’ war status following last year’s large-scale offensive. And while some of it might be attributed to them lacking exact numbers since it’d been less than a year, the number of casualties didn’t match the scale of the battles. Many were left behind and considered missing on the battlefield. The battles were that fierce, and the chaos was that vast. 

And there were more eyewitness reports of Tausendfüßler—which were usually considered logistical support units for the Legion. She’d asked Grethe, who confirmed there were no similar cases in the Federacy. 

“What’s the situation like in the United Kingdom? Could you tell me about the change in the Legion’s tactics that she told you about? In detail.” 

Though his friends were playing around cheerfully at the edge of his sight, Theo was submerged in his thoughts, his gaze fixed beyond the waves. 

The sea. 

It was about a year ago that they’d said they’d like to see it someday. Oddly enough, it was also back when they were chasing the Morpho. And while they did want to see it, there was the looming possibility they might lose to the Morpho and die, never to have that wish granted… 

So some part of him thought it’d be fine even if it didn’t happen. This place was more like a vague objective of sorts. And here they were now, near the ocean. They’d reached it, all too easily. Almost anticlimactically. 

Of course, at the time, Theo wasn’t thinking of this northern sea. But the ocean was just a symbol for places they’d never seen before. Maybe that was why when he did see the ocean for the first time, there was no feeling of accomplishment. No excitement or intense emotion to speak of. 

All he’d felt was an emptiness. Like there was an ever so small yet still gaping hole somewhere in his consciousness. It felt similar to when he’d lost his way and was simply standing still. After all…not a thing about him had changed. Nothing at all. 

He’d thought he hadn’t advanced any, that nothing had changed ever since he’d left the Eighty-Sixth Sector. And still, here he was, seeing new sights. It all felt so fruitless. Even if he stood still, even if he remained unchanged, even if he didn’t know what to aspire to…he would still be caught up in the current of things and carried away to new places. 

It was like that in the United Kingdom and the Alliance. Come to think of it, it had been like that ever since they’d been sheltered by the Federacy and brought to Ernst’s mansion. The sea before his eyes looked better than it did the previous day; the sun made it seem less black. But the dark blue still struck him as melancholic, and the cold wind and its stench felt somehow scathing and mocking. 

Even though this was the first time he’d seen the ocean…it didn’t strike him as beautiful in any way. For the first time in a long while, he’d been made aware of it. A sort of perception that had become ingrained in him in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

This world doesn’t need humans. 

The world didn’t care for one’s conveniences, sentiments, or emotions. People could die, and the stars would sparkle in the heavenly sphere just the same. People could barely survive and cling to life, only for heavy showers to rain on their celebrations. The world was so indifferent toward humanity that it almost came across as malicious. 

And it felt like he’d been reminded of that fact. Unable to stay where he was, Theo turned around and walked back toward the city. 

“I’d always thought cities outside the battlefield were peaceful, but…,” Anju muttered to herself with a sigh. 

One of the ladies in the cafeteria told her that there was a festival coming up in the port town attached to this base. The Ship Princess Festival, it was called. In the past, each of the Fleet Countries’ cities had a ship associated with them, and the figurehead of these ships was said to house a holy spirit called a Ship Princess. Once a year, the cities would hold a festival rite to deify these spirits. 

A statue of a maiden stood in front of city hall, decorated with countless flowers, which did give the impression of a festival. Except…the plaza in front of this city hall was in such a state of disrepair, one could mistake it for something straight out of the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

Clouds of dust, damaged buildings, broken pavement, and withered roadside trees. The structures somehow maintained their functions, but the people had long since lost the spare time, energy, and funds to repair them. Children ran about wearing old clothes that, while clean, were riddled with patched-up holes. And despite the festival going on, the stalls were all meager, selling cheap, synthesized confections. 

But by contrast, for how small the city was, the citizens filled the streets energetically, streaming out of prefab residences set up near the square and a nearby park. Those were meant for refugees who had to evacuate as the front line was moved back little by little over the past decade, slowly approaching the home front. 

This was the price the Fleet Countries had to pay for fighting on for ten years, despite their diminutive size. 

“I guess the Federacy and the United Kingdom were the exceptions… The other countries are all at their limits.” 

The truth was they’d long since lost the strength to keep fighting, but they still struggled to stay alive, doing battle however they could. And the inevitable end of that would come when they completely exhausted all their strength, only to be trampled beneath the enemy and wiped out. 

The reality of that was now laid bare before her. 

“But they’re still holding the festival,” Michihi, who stood next to Anju, muttered quietly. 

They decorated the maiden’s statue, each flower modest on its own, but the whole array of them was impressive. This was probably the most the townsfolk could gather. They laughed and cheered and beckoned customers and shouted. But just earning their daily bread was taxing. The state of the city vividly displayed just how closely the Legion War had driven them to the very edge of extinction. 

And yet they gritted their teeth, forcing themselves to smile and laugh in this ethnic festival. The Eighty-Six were the minority in the Republic, and even among them, the Orienta of the continent’s east were even rarer. And Michihi spoke, bearing the appearance of that bloodline. 

“I don’t know much about festivals. I mean, there was no one to pass them down to us. I don’t remember my homeland, and my family is all dead. So seeing this makes me feel lonely. But more than that, I’m jealous. These people have something that’s so important to them, they’d do it even if it becomes impossibly difficult to do. And I’m…jealous of that.” 

Something precious. Something one could be attached to, no matter what. Something that…gave one shape. And the Eighty-Six, whose sole identity was the drive to fight to the bitter end…lacked that precious something. 

Theo left the shore and returned to the city, but he didn’t find it comfortable in the hustle and bustle of the streets. For such a small town, there was a lot of people, and most of them were of the Jade bloodline, just like him. The Veridian race, which included the Jades, was native to the continent’s southern shore. A fraction of them pursued the leviathans, migrating to this land and founding seven of the eleven Fleet Countries. 

But despite all that, nowhere did he find any blood relation nor a friend. He didn’t know this festival. 

It was likely that some of his comrades were off playing on the beach now because they couldn’t feel comfortable around the festival, either. They preferred to be outside the city. Outside the world of humanity. A place governed by something else that wasn’t human. Just like the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

There was nothing to inherit there. No roots to associate with. There, they wouldn’t have to be bothered by the fact that they had nothing to fall back on. They could live on the battlefield, where they relied on no one but themselves and their comrades. 

In other words, they had no foundation to base themselves off of except for themselves. Unlike the people of this city, they had no place of origin anywhere in this world. And this was something Theo thought he’d realized a few times already since leaving the Eighty-Sixth Sector. And still, for whatever reason, it hurt. 

They’d learned there was a method for stopping the Legion. Stopping the war was no longer a hopeless endeavor but a realistic possibility. And maybe realizing that was the trigger. But more than anything…seeing Shin, and then Raiden, Rito, and Anju try to strive toward the future was likely the biggest reason. 

Theo himself had said, at one point, that Shin ought to try to enjoy life more. That he shouldn’t be haunted by the fact that his brother and their many comrades died ahead of him. So Theo was honestly relieved to see him think of the future for once. He knew he had to let go of him now… 

…but it left him feeling so terribly lonely at the same time. 

Because what was he supposed to do now? He had no foundations to fall back on, no place in the world where he belonged. Shin might have found salvation and become able to reach out to the future, but what was Theo supposed to do? He knew all too well that salvation didn’t come easily. After all, how could he gain anything when he didn’t even know what “hope” or “the future” meant to him? And if he couldn’t gain that, what was he supposed to do? 

He didn’t know. He was scared. 

After shambling around in a daze for some time, as if trying to escape the very shadow that clung to his footsteps, he found himself back at the base. He’d apparently walked into the supercarrier’s dock. 

The dock was several stories tall and significantly larger in scale than the Juggernauts’ hangar. Despite this, the ship’s bridge was the same height as the catwalks, which accentuated the size of it. Before him was the sheer magnificence of a massive naval base made for dispatching aircraft onto the open sea. 

On its deck were anti-leviathan patrol planes, made for scouting out the troves of slow and yet countless—as many as the Legion—sea creatures inhabiting the waters. And of course, there were combat fighters meant for dispatching them. 

In order to discover and dispatch the leviathans, the ship was also equipped with a sonar system to hunt the largest of leviathan races, the Musukura. These creatures were capable of firing a beam of light, and in order to dispatch them, they would have to be lured out with fighter jets first. 

This supercarrier and the planes it ferried were at the forefront of the struggle against the leviathans. 

One man, who was standing in front of the ship and looking up at its figurehead, turned around at the sound of Theo’s footsteps. Dark-blond hair and green eyes. Indigo-navy uniform and a firebird tattoo. 

Ishmael. 

“…Hmm. Boy, aren’t you from the Strike Package? Your name was, uh…” 

A long pause hung between them. 

“………Er.” Ishmael eventually gave up. 

“It’s Rikka.” 

“Oh, pardon. We usually tell one another apart by our tattoos. It’s hard to distinguish us with just our faces, you know?” 

By the tattoos? Theo eyed him suspiciously. Allegedly, branding themselves with a tattoo was a custom of the Open Sea clans, but the tattoos all looked the same to Theo. Apparently, the tattoo’s patterns differed based on one’s race or origin. Ishmael had a firebird tattoo, while Esther had one of scales. Orientas had flower tattoos, Topazes had creeping vine patterns, and Celestas had geometric patterns. Jades, Emer?ds, and Aventuras had tattoos in the shapes of ripples, lightning, and spirals respectively. 

But come to think of it, he hadn’t seen another Jade with a firebird tattoo like Ishmael’s. 

“Shouldn’t you be playing in the water with your friends? I heard the Federacy and the Republic can’t reach the sea right now.” 

“I was there before, but…I got bored of it.” 

“What about the festival in town?” 

“…I don’t care for it.” 

For some reason, Ishmael regarded him with a bitter smile. 

“You’re a Jade, aren’t you? Where are you from? Where were your ancestors from before they migrated to the Republic?” 

“Huh…? Strictly speaking, I think they came from all over the continent…” 

“Ah, a miscalculation on my part. My apologies. What you said applies to just about anyone. Absolute purebloods only belong in the United Kingdom’s and the Empire’s nobility. And the Republic, I suppose… Oh, not that I’m bad-mouthing your pretty colonel, the prince, or your operations commander.” 

Shin’s parents were purebloods, but he himself was a mixed child, so he didn’t fit in that description, either. But that was beside the point. 

“I’m from the south, from some place called Elektra… I think that’s from two hundred years ago, though,” Theo replied. 

“Ah, then we do come from the same roots. My clan was from that area, too. Migrated from there about a thousand years ago or so, though. Still, we can more than make up for that. Welcome home, boy.” 

His tone was entirely jovial, and despite that, Theo was overcome with an intense sense of denial. This person was only the same color as him. He was a complete stranger otherwise. Theo just happened to have some distant ancestors related to this country. This hadn’t been his family’s homeland for two hundred years now. 

More than anything, the only ones Theo could perhaps call countrymen didn’t even share his colors—they just had to have been Eighty-Six who fought on the same battlefield as him. 

Just because he shared his colors with someone didn’t mean he wanted to be seen as their kin. Especially not when it came from someone who had a homeland and heritage to draw on—along with the fleet commander, who was his father…his family. 

Not from someone who had all the things he lacked. 

“…” 

While Theo remained silent, Ishmael simply gave a nonchalant shrug. That gesture reminded Theo of someone. 

“See, that’s my thing. I can’t help but tease people like that. It’s like having a cat hiss at you. It makes me want to mess with ya. That doesn’t apply to just you, though. You Eighty-Six have a way of deciding who your friends are and pushing away everyone else who isn’t.” 

He then added, with a carefree smile, that there were a few Eighty-Six who weren’t like that. Like his captain and his vice captain, and the brat who said the Stella Maris was big and slow… In other words, Shin, Raiden, and Rito. 

The ones who used to be like Theo but changed before he knew it. Those words sank into his heart, causing it to freeze over. If anyone was his comrade, it was the Eighty-Six who shared in his pride and way of life. But at this point, even these comrades of his… 

“You know, we…we’ve all been drifting apart lately.” 

“…Yeah, we have.” 

Theo had gone off somewhere at some point. Anju was gone, too, though in her case, she was interested in the festival. Kurena, however, didn’t even want to come watch the ocean with them. Raiden naturally noticed this, as did Shin. 

Those who didn’t come to the beach since they didn’t want to see the sea, and those who came here because they couldn’t stand the town’s liveliness. Those who were excited at their first sight of the ocean, and those who decided to go see the unfamiliar festival. They’d all mingled between these different groups, but at some point, a divide had formed between them. Something had changed about the way they viewed one another. 

To fight to the very end on that battlefield of certain death. They had no common blood to draw on, no common colors to bind them together. That pride was their sole bond, and it unified them as Eighty-Six… But at some point, they’d begun to split up. 

“You shouldn’t worry about it, though.” 

One such divided comrade told another, without sparing a glance in his direction. Still, feeling that bloodred gaze turn to him, Raiden kept speaking, his eyes still averted. 

“It’s not like you left someone behind or abandoned them or anything, man. They’re just making their own choices, at their own pace. So no matter what choice you make, you don’t have to worry about the rest.” 

“…I know,” Shin said. 

By the tone of his voice, he really did understand that. But he wasn’t at peace with it, either. 

“But if saying that hurts you… I think you guys saved me more than enough times. So if that time comes…” 

Raiden couldn’t help but crack a bitter smile. 

You idiot. How can you say that? The one who’s been saving us every step of the way always was… 

“You don’t have to… You’ve done enough. You’re our Reaper, after all.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Here I am, old man.” 

Theo’s voice came out sulkier than he’d intended. He forcibly changed the subject, irritated. He wasn’t some kind of scared kitten or something. He could hold a casual conversation. 

“What’s the festival all about?” he asked. 

“Mm? Oh, the Ship Princess Festival. It’s a Fleet Country tradition. Celebrating the ship gods. I think in this town, it’s a torpedo boat?” 

He mentioned some kind of military boat category that’d been rendered obsolete with the advance of technology… But then he stopped quizzically. 

“…Or was it something else?” Ishmael then asked. 

“Huh…? You don’t know?” 

“Well, I…I mean, I’m not native to this town.” 

Theo looked up at Ishmael, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Weren’t you listening? Guess not. When the Orphan Fleet formed at the start of this war, we evacuated an entire country, turning it into a battlefield to beat the Legion back. We didn’t have enough area between the north and south edges of our territory to form a defensive formation, and the Legion invaded us from the east. So we evacuated the most eastern country. That was my homeland. The Cleo Fleet Country.” 

“…Oh.” 

He had heard of it. Lena mentioned it before they were dispatched here. It just hadn’t occurred to him. Not until he heard someone who had lost his homeland say that. It wasn’t unlike a certain country that had been forced to discard a good percent of its territory and citizens to form the battlefield of zero casualties called the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

Not unlike the Republic. 

Seeing Theo look up at him, frozen in place, Ishmael waved a hand dismissively. 

“…You don’t have to look at me like that. We weren’t treated as badly as you people were. They didn’t force us out with guns to our backs, and they didn’t confiscate any of our belongings, either. We ran off with everything we could carry, and we weren’t really discriminated against when we did settle down somewhere else. The housing they gave us was provisional, though, but the place we evacuated to had it just as rough… Heh, I mean, even the fleet commander had to take the Stella Maris and the whole fleet to evacuate, too,” he said jokingly and laughed. 

Said fleet commander was… Yes. It was the name of the dead fleet commander. He hadn’t seen anyone with the same tattoo as Ishmael, despite the base buzzing with activity as it prepared for the operation. There was the possibility that it wasn’t just the fleet commander; everyone else who had that tattoo were already… 

So he didn’t have those things after all. 

He was similar to the Eighty-Six even on that level. To them, who had lost their families, homelands, and were deprived of any culture and tradition to draw on. So maybe… No, he was almost certainly worried for the Eighty-Six, who went through the same plights he did. 

“Sorry… And, er…” 

Rito’s words surfaced in his mind again. Someone was worrying for them, now that they were outside the Eighty-Sixth Sector. And here he’d met someone else who was in the same position they were… Someone full of pride. 

“…thank you.” 

He’d felt as if he’d just glimpsed a distant speck of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. 

The light of the setting sun reflected off the ocean’s surface, the golden glow rising off it like a collection of overlaid mirrors. It was a dizzying, brilliant sight. The captain of an anti-leviathan destroyer, a woman with a peony tattoo, told him that the lighthouse on the city’s outskirts offered a good, spherical view of the stars. 

It was open to the public as an observatory, and indeed, the horizon looked like an arc from that vantage point. It offered a full view of the radiant spectacle of the sunset’s low rays glittering off the water’s surface. 

The twilit sea shone with a burning, otherworldly golden glow, like a shattered mirror. Somehow, the beauty of it seemed to Yuuto like the very image of rejection. Shiden and Shana were nearby; someone else had apparently told them about this place. 

They were in the same unit, but they weren’t close enough to speak freely. Especially because Yuuto was stolid by nature. And so they simply stood without exchanging any gazes or words, the warmth of their bodies distant from one another. Watching the same unfamiliar sunset. 

“The Open Sea clans came together to form a single navy. It’s not so much a military unit as it is a group that’s more akin to a ‘household’ of sorts.” 

Yuuto turned his gaze in the direction of this new voice. Esther had gone up to the observatory, and for whatever reason, Kurena was with her, too. He’d assumed she couldn’t find it in herself to go the beach or the city, and so she stayed behind in the base, where Esther found her and brought her along. Shiden and Shana were probably there under similar circumstances. 

It felt like not just Esther and the lady who spoke to Yuuto were bent on sticking their necks into their business. It was the entirety of the Orphan Fleet soldiers and even the people of the town who were keen on showing them around the festival. They all gave them the same impression. 

At first, he thought they were being grateful to the foreign unit sent to aid them, or that they were just gleefully hospitable to the first guests they’d gotten from abroad in a decade, but… Now it felt like there was more to it in that that. 

The Fleet Countries had existed for a few centuries, while the Open Sea clans had been exploring the seas for thousands of years, competing with the leviathans for control of the waters. Despite losing in that battle time after time, these people never gave up. And it felt like right now, they were somehow calling out—declaring that they had nothing except for this resolute struggle. That this was all they had. 

“I guess this is a sympathy of sorts… Toward us, the Eighty-Six.” 

Esther continued speaking matter-of-factly. 

“So to that end, as Captain Ishmael’s lieutenant, I refer to him as my older brother. Even though there’s no blood relation between us.” 

“Er…” 

Kurena gazed back at Esther, clearly in awe. All she did was casually ask, in the midst of idle conversation, why she referred to Ishmael as her older brother despite him being younger and not related to her. 

“…Sorry. I don’t really get it, ma’am…” 

She added the last word, realizing she was speaking to a lieutenant. Thankfully, Esther didn’t seem to mind as she simply eyed Kurena quizzically. 

“You don’t? I thought you Eighty-Six had similar relationships.” 

Kurena blinked once. 

“…You mean us?” 

“Yes. For example, you and your operations commander, Captain Nouzen. When I first met you two, I thought you might be siblings. Well, it was obvious you weren’t related by blood, though.” 

Putting aside everyone’s facial features being different, the colors they were born with were entirely different. But something about these boys and girls felt similar. The gaze in their eyes, perhaps. It was obvious with a glance that none of them were related by blood, and yet… 

“Something about you was visibly similar… Yes, I guess you could call it the shape of your souls. You lived on the same battlefield, destined for the same graves, lived the same sort of lives, and reveled in your pride. It was not by bonds of blood, but bonds of kinship of the soul that formed your connections… Same as how the pride of the Open Sea clans forms our relations.” 

These sweet words shook Kurena. She mouthed them feverishly. Like a person who had just been given water at the end of a long trek through an arid wasteland. 

“Kinship…of the soul.” 

“Indeed. And more so than bonds of blood or camaraderie of the same country, that is a connection that can never be severed. No matter what.” 

Esther spoke eagerly within the golden glow, as if stating the obvious. 

“And so come what may, he will always be an older brother to me. And in much the same vein, Captain Nouzen will always be an older brother to you. That will never change.” 

“We only had a rough estimate of the distance and their numbers, since they’re so far from us, but knowing this much makes things much easier. Both for us and the diversion fleet.” 

The briefing room was set in the appropriated university’s chapel. Light filtered in through the old, colorful stained glass and down onto the table. There stood Ishmael, examining the documents spread out before him with a smile. Among them was a naval map, where Shin had marked the positions of the advance-recon-unit mother ships. 

“Allow me to invite you to lunch when we come back as gratitude for this, Captain. Dried seafood, as is tradition.” 

“…” 

Realizing that he didn’t specify fish or shellfish but only vaguely said “seafood,” Shin fell silent. Theo spoke in his place. 

“Captain, do you mean those dainties the locals like to tease tourists with?” 

“No, not at all… It’s just that the raw animal itself looks a bit strange, is all.” 

Lena smiled, seeing that the Eighty-Six were getting along well with Ishmael and the Fleet Country’s people. The Orphan Fleet’s soldiers and townsfolk were all kind and well-natured. Maybe that was why. 

“Ah, look forward to dinner tonight, everyone. It’s festival season, and we’re grateful to have you here, so the good old ladies running the kitchen were excited about cooking you up a feast.” 

Ishmael then raised his hand and waved, leaving the briefing room behind. Seeing him off with a smile, Lena then surveyed the room, looking at the Strike Package’s squadron commanders and staff officers. 

“Now then… Let’s get our own briefing started.” 

The intelligence staff officers, who were smiling just like she was, and Zashya, who looked dumbfounded for some reason, quickly regarded her with serious expressions. The Eighty-Six didn’t seem particularly nervous and were settled into their chairs, relaxed. As they usually were. Lena paid this no mind and activated the holo-window. 

“First of all, we have a schematic diagram of our current objective, the Mirage Spire.” 

It was a three-dimensional schematic produced by analyzing footage captured by a reconnaissance boat. It had a clear steel framework, but it somehow resembled a living creature’s corpse. And despite that, it still had the menacing scale of a marine fortress. 

“The height leading up to its top level is estimated to be one hundred twenty meters. It consists of seven towers, with a central one supported by six pillars. Its interior is speculated to be divided into somewhere between ten to twelve floors. The base’s control core and the Morpho are located on the top floor. To destroy them, we’ll send three detachments of artillery Juggernauts to secure our entry.” 

Load capacity meant they could only bring some of their forces. The Stella Maris’s load capacity allowed it to ferry one hundred fifty Juggernauts. The supercarrier usually brought a minimal number of patrol helicopters, which were instead moved to a few of the other destroyers. Even with this, the number of Juggernauts it could carry was limited. 

The initial plan was that their remaining forces would be sent to the Fleet Countries’ front lines, with a few vessels staying behind to be on the safe side, but… 

“Second Lieutenants Rito Oriya and Reki Michihi. Your units are to remain on land, where you will be stationed at the back of their front lines to function as a mobile defense force.” 

Rito blinked a few times in surprise. 

“Michihi and I aren’t part of the attack force? And what do you mean, ‘mobile defense’?” 

“The Orphan Fleet navy’s main force will draw the Mirage Spire’s attention. When the fighting at the base begins, there’s the possibility that the Legion’s ground units will launch an attack in retaliation. As such, we need you to stay behind with the residual forces.” 

Michihi and Rito exchanged gazes and then nodded, their lips pursed. If that was the case… 

“Roger that.” 

“We’ll take care of it.” 

“There’s also the possibility that the enemy’s composition and formation might change. I’ll explain the countermeasures for that later on, so please set aside some time for that.” 

Vika glanced in her direction. 

“So that’s why you requested extra ammunition from the Federacy… You’ll be setting Alkonosts on the defensive line as well, yes? With the exception of the scouts I’ll be personally directing, I’ll leave commanding to Zashya, so feel free to put them to use.” 

Due to the weight limitations, the Juggernauts—which had higher all-around combat capabilities—were prioritized over the Alkonosts when it came to attacking the base. 

“About the Shepherds we’re after,” Shin then said, “as far as I can hear, there’s two of them. The Morpho, and since we’re assuming this is an arsenal base, the other one must be a Weisel’s command core. They’re a good distance away, so I can only tell how many of them are out there, not how they’re positioned. Once we get closer, I should be able to find out, though. Lerche’s group will serve as scouts, but I’ll be ahead of them, so they shouldn’t get in the way.” 

Upon hearing his matter-of-fact explanation, Lena recalled a certain set of instructions and furrowed her brow. They were puzzling and absurd instructions from the western front’s military, which Grethe had delivered to her. 

“We’ve been instructed to capture the enemy’s control cores if possible in order to analyze their intentions, but you don’t need to go out of your way to achieve that objective… You can consider it a low priority.” 

For a moment, Shin was oddly silent. But before Lena could think anything of it, he nodded as coldly as ever. 

“Roger that.” 

“Shinei.” 

The window in his room at the barracks offered a view of the sea, and since he was going to sleep and get up at set hours to prepare for the operation, the sea was dark whenever he woke up. The time was still deep into the night, too early to be called morning. 

From beyond the sleeping city’s silence, he could hear the basso continuo of the sea roar reach his ears. It was a silent whispering, not unlike the constant wailing of the Legion. Not even trying to listen to that sound and the voice beyond it, Shin turned his gaze to the door, where that voice called out to him. 

Frederica walked into the room, still rubbing her eyes sleepily. 

“What are you watching? Is there anything peculiar out there?” 

“Oh… No, I wasn’t looking at anything in particular.” 

“So was it the Legion’s…the Morpho’s voice?” 

Beyond the slumbering city’s silence, beyond the roaring of the waves, was the sound of a ghost…the Mirage Spire’s Shepherd. Frederica walked up to his side with light footsteps, her brooding crimson eyes fixed beyond the sea. 

“Shinei.” 

Even now, Frederica wouldn’t call Shin by his nickname. Shin could tell, somehow, that this was a sort of self-admonition she’d enforced on herself. So as to not confuse him with the Imperial knight who resembled him, whom she did call by a nickname—Kiri. 

“Shinei. The Morpho in the enemy stronghold…” 

She paused for a moment. As if fearing to say the rest. 

“Is it Kiriya?” 

“…? Didn’t you look?” 

Frederica’s Esper ability gave her the power to see the present state of people she knew, even if that person was a ghost. Shin returned her question with a question, thinking she’d know without asking him. 

But upon asking, he realized: Maybe she couldn’t bring herself to “look.” She was afraid of the possibility that she might indeed see Kiriya again. 

“It’s not your knight,” he said. “His voice and words are different.” 

Frederica raised her head at once. 

“I think he’s from the Empire, but it’s not your knight… So I don’t know if that’s the information source Ernst mentioned.” 

“…” 

Frederica then hung her head again sadly. She bit her lip, then looked directly up at him again in plea. 

“Shinei, should that chance come upon us, you must use me after all. The more time goes by, the more innocent lives are lost. And there’s no telling when that devastation might encroach upon the Federacy. Should that happen, there’s no guarantee you will survive. But me… I am but one small sacrifice, so—” 

“No.” 

“Shinei!” She grabbed onto him. 

Her physique was much smaller than his, of course, so all she could do was shake him slightly. He understood how she felt. Had he been in her position, he’d have likely said the same…and even acted on his words. Same as how he’d thought that acting as bait would have saved his friends two years ago at the end of the Special Reconnaissance mission. 

So he thought he’d understood her impatience and resolve. But even still… 

“One person might be a small sacrifice… Sacrificing the minority is justified if it’s to save the majority. That’s the logic they used to throw us into the Eighty-Sixth Sector.” 

Frederica’s eyes widened slightly. Looking down at her, Shin continued speaking. He knew her impatience and her resolve. But even still, this was one thing he wouldn’t budge on. 

“I don’t think sacrificing you is the right thing to do… I don’t want to repeat the mistakes of the Republic.”