86 - Volume 8 - Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 

THE TOWER (REVERSE) 

“…Ah.” 

For a moment, Theo was speechless. What just happened? Some part of him had to know. Laughing Fox looked up at Undertaker as it all took place, so it had seen everything that transpired. 

“…Shin.” 

No response came. The Para-RAID had been shut off. Just like back then. When they abandoned the captain to his death. It was the same silence that lingered after he’d cut off the radio. 

He’d forgotten. The captain… The captain who, despite being an Alba, returned to the battlefield of his own volition. Leaving behind a beloved wife and a newborn child. Who had people who would grieve his passing. A man who had a future ahead of him, joy he could claim if he’d only lived on… 

And despite all that, he died. Leaving nothing behind but the Personal Mark of a laughing fox. And in his place, Theo survived… Theo, who didn’t have a future or anyone to share it with. No one to grieve his passing. He had neither a family nor a home to return to. That didn’t mean he wanted to die, but…he did think that if only one of them had to survive, it should have been the captain. 

And Shin was the same. He’d finally found someone to share his life with. A happy future to aspire toward. And he had comrades who all wished for him to grasp that joy. 

Theo had been left behind again. Still unable to wish for anything. 

It was like he’d forgotten so far. And now he’d remembered, all too vividly. It didn’t matter how much one’s life was worth. The number of people one left behind, the sheer volume of tears that would be shed by their passing… None of that mattered. A life could be reaped away without regard for any of that. 

If anything, it seemed that those who had more to live for—those who would be mourned the most—were always the first to go. 

Such was the way of the world. 

“Ah…” 

The sight of it froze Lena in place, too. Undertaker crashed down, scattering tiny shards as it did. She could see him fall in slow motion, but it only took a single moment before it ended. It crashed into the sea, raising a pillar of splashing water in its wake. And just like that, it powerlessly sank into the shadowy depths. 

“Aah… Aaaah…” 

She could hear, as if from a distance, the sound of Frederica’s chair falling and retreating footsteps as the girl jumped to her feet. She could hear her intentionally sprint in a panic, and in between her steps, she shouted, “Send a rescue boat! My power can see the ones who fall, so hurry and save him! Quickly!” 

But even as she heard her, Lena couldn’t move. Undertaker… Shin had fallen. But he was fine. He had to be. She had to believe it. He’d fallen from quite the significant height, but he did fall into the water. The Reginleif was built for fighting at high speeds, and it was equipped with powerful shock absorbers. What’s more, Undertaker fired its wire anchor midfall, momentarily coiling around a beam. That should have curbed its falling speed and allowed it to correct its posture. He didn’t fall headfirst, so he was fine. He had to be. 

The Stella Maris had deployed rescue boats around the Spire ahead of time, accounting for the possibility of someone falling. Small boats meant for retrieving fighter planes that crashed before returning to their carrier. The Juggernaut was even lighter than that, so collecting it shouldn’t have been a tall order. 

But would the water really have softened his landing that much? And didn’t his wire miss before it could reduce his fall speed? As powerful as the shock absorbers might have been, they couldn’t completely nullify the impact. And before accounting for all that, wouldn’t the Phönix’s self-destruction damage Undertaker? 

And most importantly, if he was fine, then why? Why wouldn’t the Para-RAID connect to him? Lena was right there, so why didn’t he reach out to her for rescue…?! 

“No…!” 

Shin said he’d return. On that snowy battlefield, they promised each other they would return alive, together. He’d told her he wanted to live alongside her. The conversation they had right before this operation surfaced in her mind. That time, it was Shin who stole a kiss. A biting, sulking…yet sweet kiss. 

The words he’d told her. 

Whenever you’re ready to give me your answer…just let me know. 

Lena still hadn’t answered him. She still hadn’t returned the feelings she should have expressed eons ago. And despite that… 

Feeling all the power drain from her limbs, Lena sunk to the floor. Her blood pressure dropped, as if she’d suddenly been overcome with anemia. A thick white fog clouded her field of vision. 

She was a commander on the ship’s bridge, in front of both her subordinates and another country’s soldiers. The stray thought that she ought to have kept up her appearances as Bloody Reina, something akin to pride, crossed her mind. 

But all that felt distant right now. Her knees couldn’t support her weight. She’d spent her entire life standing on two feet, but right now, the memory of how to do it eluded both her mind and body. Her slender form wavered. Marcel rose to his feet, sensing danger. 

But then a voice she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever boomed through the Resonance. 

“Pull yourself together, Your Majesty!” 

Lena snapped to her senses. It was as if that call had slapped her across the face. She somehow managed to get strength in her legs. That voice… 

“Shiden…,” Lena muttered wearily to herself, as if she’d just been shaken out of a dream. 

Shiden sighed in relief upon hearing this. Since the Resonance communicated noises as they occurred to each of their respective senses, the synchronization rate was preset to its minimal setting. But even at minimal Resonance, emotions were expressed as if they were facing each other directly, and Lena could feel the strained unease and panic Shiden was only barely able to suppress. 

Whenever she faced Shin, the two of them would always fight. It felt like the two of them were incompatible on the most fundamental level of their personalities. But Shiden did acknowledge Shin in her own way, so she was worried about him. 

“He’ll be fine. He said he’d come back to ya, didn’t he? Then it’s your job to believe in him. He’ll make it. He survived the Special Reconnaissance mission, didn’t he?” 

Lena gasped. The Eighty-Sixth Sector’s battlefield of certain death. The final disposal site of the Eighty-Six who’d outlived their period of service, like the eastern front’s first defensive unit, the Spearhead squadron. The death march through enemy territory. A mission with a survival rate of 0 percent. And despite it being their final good-bye, they’d managed to cheat death. 

“You know this already. We Eighty-Six, we’re stubborn and cling to life, no matter how underhanded the means we have to resort to are. They fed us to the Eighty-Sixth Sector and told us to die, yet here we are. And he’s the strongest out of all of us. Ain’t no way in hell he’s not the most stubborn of the bunch, too.” 

There’s no way he isn’t coming back from this. 

Lena nodded desperately. She nodded again and again. 

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right…” 

She fixed her posture and raised her head. Marcel watched her with concern in his eyes, and from where Lena stood, she could see Ishmael, averting his gaze to spare her from being seen in this shameful moment. Lena nodded at him and raised her voice. 

“Vanadis to all units! Command over the Spearhead squadron is relegated to Raiden. The operation’s objective will be changed.” 

The Federacy uniform flapped as she moved, and she clenched her fists without regarding it. 

“The Strike Package’s mission is to remove the threat of the Legion from the Fleet Countries’ shores. The new Legion type that appeared, the Noctiluca, is a threat that must be eliminated. If this unit’s long-distance cannons are allowed to move freely through the sea, it would put not just the Fleet Countries but all other countries in danger. As such…” 

She glared at the massive shadow displayed on her monitor. 

“…our new top-priority objective is the elimination of the Noctiluca. Direct all your efforts to annihilating the target!” 

The appearance of an enemy vessel, with two railguns as its main armaments at that, was incredibly shocking for the Orphan Fleet’s crew. But compared with the Eighty-Six, who were the subject of a surprise attack by an 800 mm shell and lost their operations commander, they were much calmer. 

Another factor that contributed to them remaining collected was that as part of their initial objective, they had formed a circular perimeter around the Mirage Spire, preparing to resume bombardment of the Morpho. 

“Stella Maris to all vessels! Our target is the Noctiluca. Open fire as soon as you realign your sights!” 

That was why, when it came to naval combat, the Orphan Fleet were the ones to shoot first. Two long-distance cruisers fixed their guns on the target, and the supercarrier fixed four of its own guns. In other words, its main turrets, a pair of 40 cm gun mounts, roared as it billowed fire. Shells that each weighed one tonne cut through the ocean breeze as they rushed toward the Noctiluca. 

However, the Orphan Fleet’s guns were normally meant for firing and scattering depth charges across long distances. They were now launching them above the sea, where they were less effective, in addition to their guns not being accurate against moving targets. Guided weapons were expensive, and the Fleet Countries had very few of them, and so their shells only landed exactly on the spot they were fired toward. 

The Noctiluca, however, was far faster than one might imagine such a massive vessel to be. With the unnatural agility and speed characteristic of the Legion, it swiftly changed bearings, moving about the ocean with lightning speed and using the time lag that the 40 cm shells took to reach it to deftly avoid them. 

The ship turned, the two pairs of wings on its main turrets spread out as the blue optical sensors on its bow glinted as they glared at the Stella Maris. It wasn’t a second later that the two 800 mm railguns swiveled to aim at the enemy vessel. 

Supercarriers were never built in anticipation of open naval combat between itself and another vessel, and it wasn’t capable of avoiding shots from an enemy gun with such a wide rotation radius. 

“We won’t let you…!” 

But just then, the Denebola finished shooting and began moving at max speed toward the Noctiluca, preparing to ram its flank. A ramming maneuver akin to the oar ships of old. 

The Denebola’s bow was crashed against the Noctiluca’s heavily armored broadside. Sparks flew, and the long-distance cruiser’s hull let out a metallic screech as it sidled up to the Noctiluca and fired all its mooring wires. As the anchor at their ends dug into the Electromagnetic Gunship type, the Denebola’s motor roared as it began moving in reverse. It was trying to tow away the Noctiluca—which weighed in at over a hundred thousand tonnes—with all its propulsion. 

“Stella Maris, Brother! While you have time, you—” 

Ishmael would never hear the end of that sentence. The two railguns turned to the Denebola. Crackling electricity ran between one set of rails, and then…fire. 

The thundering blast of the cannon at close range was so intense that it came across as silence instead of noise. The Denebola’s bridge took a direct hit and was completely blown away. The intense sound of that explosion eclipsed all other sounds on the battlefield. 

And yet the Denebola kept moving. Its engine was still running, driving the ship in reverse course, fiercely towing the Noctiluca away. Of course, it was more than double the Denebola’s weight, so the ship couldn’t turn it away. But the sheer force of its movement did stall the massive vessel…exposing its sensitive left flank to the three other remaining ships. 

The Denebola’s positioning placed the Noctiluca in an unfavorable position. Since it was a massive vessel that dwarfed even the Stella Maris, standing directly to its right made it so its railguns, even at their lowest angle of depression, could only aim at the bridge. A ship’s engine was coupled with its propellers, placing it at the hull’s bottom—underwater. The Denebola being at point-blank range effectively sealed away the Noctiluca’s strongest armaments, making it an impediment it couldn’t easily shake off or eliminate. 

All that was calculated at the moment the Denebola rammed it. The moment before the bridge was blown off, the Denebola’s captain could be heard over the radio. 

“Glory to the Orphan Fleet…!” 

Those words weren’t directed at anyone in particular. Those were simply the captain’s choice of final words. He could have voiced a grudge or a regret, and no one would judge him for it. But instead, he praised his country, his homeland—the history that led up to him being who he was. 

That courage made Ishmael grit his teeth. This was an operation they had to accomplish—even if it meant losing the entirety of their navy, even if the Orphan Fleet had to be wiped out to do it. 

Swallowing all the pain and indignation, he raised his head. 

“Continue the bombardment! We have it pinned down. Next time, we hit it! Knock it down to the bottom of the ocean!” 

“Artillery squadron, prepare to fire! Load up incendiary bombs! We have to disable the enemy’s optical camouflage first!” 

At Lena’s order, lines of fire were launched from the Stella Maris’s deck. The blue sky, which had only just brightened with the passage of the storm, turned dark again as missiles rushed at the Noctiluca. The incendiary bombs soon reached the top of the Noctiluca, spraying and igniting the napalm they contained. An intense bombardment that didn’t shy away from overheating the barrel brought a shower of dark flames to bear upon the metallic battleship. 

The flames danced upon the armored deck, spreading up to the fortresslike gun turrets, slithering between the railguns’ barrels. Metallic wings caught fire, turning to silver-gray ash that the wind scattered over the sea. This exposed a group of argent, undulating shadows. 

Lena gazed at it, her eyes narrowed. Enemy detected. It really was them. 

She’d predicted before this operation began that the Legion might intend to mass-produce it and that this might be the time they chose to introduce them. That was why she made sure to add incendiary bombs to their arsenal and increased the number of Juggernauts with armaments that would better counter them. 

The sudden worsening of the war situation for the Fleet Countries and the other surrounding nations. The Legion’s change in strategy following the failure of the large-scale offensive. The rise in their numbers and increased performance. 

When Vika saw the Phönix in the Revich Citadel Base, he wondered what the unit was made for. Sword-touting heroes, racing through the battlefield like one-man armies, were ineffective in modern warfare. That held true for humankind, but that idea was all the more worthless for the Legion. 

But the Legion changed their tactics. Their numbers rose, and their performance increased. They destroyed the Republic, taking its citizens as spoils of war. They exchanged the Black Sheep, created with the damaged neural networks of the war dead, for the Sheepdogs, which retained their intellect but removed the personality and memories. 

They had gathered plenty of heads to use for their ordinary soldiers. So natural progression indicated that their next step would be gathering the heads of the elite. 

Modern warfare had no place for heroes. 

But the Legion were different. They needed “heroes.” Their change in strategy necessitated it. And so they made it. One who would seek out the shining star among the brittle humans, an inefficient yet powerful hero’s head. They made a unit that would act as a hero to hunt the heads of heroes. 

A unit that would overwhelm even the most skilled of human soldiers but would not harm their remains—their brains—with the force of artillery. A melee, bladed soldier. An idea discarded by modern warfare. 

“To hunt heads, for the sake of expanding the Legion’s performance. To do that, they would have to mass-produce the Phönix.” 

And despite having predicted it… 

Being Resonated with Shin and hearing the countless wailings had put a strain on Vika, too, and that was exceptionally hard in the Noctiluca’s case, as its screams were a bloodcurdling mixture of multiple brains. Ironically enough, with Shin disconnected and the screams gone, Vika finally realized he could make out some portion of what the screams were trying to convey. 

At first, he thought it was just wailing. But now he realized that some of what it said formed meaningful words. Those were words he’d heard in a ritual once when he was little, before the Legion War started. 

Those words weren’t in the primary language of the continent’s west. Between the Federacy and the countries of the continent’s east spanned a hammada desert, its trade routes governed by the Rin-Liu Trade Federation. That ritual and the Legion’s wailings were in the language of that country and its surrounding nations and tribes. 

The officers of those countries spoke those words, offering them up as prayer to their deity of war—a war goddess. 

Vika narrowed his Imperial violet eyes in thought. 

“So one of them was an eastern general… I see. The Legion aim to improve their features…” 

The Sheepdogs were based on Republic citizens who never knew war and had no knowledge of battle, and so they sought to optimize them. The Eighty-Six had no knowledge of strategy, and so they sought to improve the Shepherds into more efficient commander units with superior command skills. 

And to do so, the Legion would intentionally seek out soldiers. Highly educated, rigorously trained, high-ranking commanders—the kind that were protected and rarely found on the front lines. And so they chose small countries, where the defensive lines were easier to breach, as their hunting grounds. Once they’d broken through, they could collect the heads of high-ranking officers who gave commands from the home front. 

Like, for example, the Fleet Countries. Nations that requested that the Strike Package deploy there. The Federacy and the United Kingdom couldn’t know this because of the Eintagsfliege’s electronic interference, but several countries had likely already been wiped out by the Legion. 

The disturbing screaming of the Noctiluca, the final cries of dozens of people—that was probably the result of many neural networks fused together. This was likely a Shepherd that couldn’t function as a commander and had the brain structures of generals and field officers appended to it after the fact. 

“…How troublesome.” 

The Stella Maris entered artillery battle with the Noctiluca, forcing it into evasive maneuvers until the Denebola rammed it. As a result, it had moved away from the Mirage Spire, leaving the marine fortress the Reginleifs had infiltrated behind. 

Their tank turrets could reach the Noctiluca, but it had gotten far enough that they couldn’t hope to jump over to it. Meanwhile, the Phönix units aboard the Noctiluca’s deck shook the ash of the Eintagsfliege off themselves and began climbing up to their mother ship’s turrets in groups. They ascended to the top of the ship, dozens of meters above sea level, and plunged off, grabbing onto the outer walls of the Spire and gaining height with devilish speed. 

Raiden overlooked the scene from the current top level of the Spire, Carla Three. Leaving the naval battle to their mother ship, it seemed the Phönix units decided to stage a landing. Their goal was to retake the fortress. Or perhaps headhunting, as Lena predicted. 

Either way, it didn’t matter. 

“—Yuuto! We’ll handle beating back the Phönix here. Lend me your troops on Level Carla!” 

This was right after they had all scattered to take cover, without regard for squadron or platoon, across six different floors. They didn’t have time for everyone to regroup to their respective units. 

Sitting inside his unit, Verethragna, in Level Bertha, Yuuto regarded him with a glance and a curt nod. Exchanging members between their units wasn’t out of the usual for either of them. 

In the Eighty-Sixth Sector, anyone could die at any time, and so units had to be reorganized and rebalanced. As commanders or vice commanders, they were often required to account for those changes. 

“Go ahead. All units on Level Bertha, you are hereby under my command. Fire-restriction and area-suppression units, stay wary of the Phönix and cover for the vanguards equipped with tank turrets and snipers. Vanguards and snipers, focus on taking out the Noctiluca’s turrets. We’ll be supporting the Orphan Fleet’s battle.” 

With the Noctiluca fixed in place by the Denebola, the Stella Maris and the remaining two long-distance cruisers continued bombarding it. They rotated their turrets so as to not strike their consort units or the Mirage Spire and resumed their shooting. 

As low as their accuracy was, they would still hit a straight shot against an immobile target. Their 40 mm shells flocked the Noctiluca in a linear course. 

Only for all of them to be effectively deflected. 

“What…?!” 

“It’s so bulky…!” 

Its armor was thick. Since it didn’t need to account for the extra load that came with having crew members, the Legion could invest all its weight into thick armor. And since the Orphan Fleet’s ships had to remain wary of the railguns’ rapid fire, they had to keep their distance. This meant their shots lacked the punch to penetrate its armor. 

The Basilicus turned rudder to shoot from up close, but it was then that the Noctiluca fired back. The massive ship had its portside, with eleven of its 155 mm rapid-fire guns, turned toward the Orphan Fleet. The guns began spewing fire. 

True, it had its weakest point, its bow, exposed to its enemies. But this also meant many of its guns were now facing the enemy fleet, allowing it to exhibit maximal firepower. A thick, quick barrage of bullets flew through the air, shot faster than artillery could ever hope to be. This forced the Basilicus to turn rudder in a hurry and flee. 

Much like its main armaments, the rapid-fire guns were railguns. They couldn’t approach it like this. 

Watching over the fighting from Level Bertha, Theo gritted his teeth. 

He was now under Yuuto’s command. The Noctiluca was the only enemy craft on the water, and it was fixed in place. But the battle between the Noctiluca and the Orphan Fleet was too one-sided. It was like a pack of rats trying to hunt down a tiger. 

It had more guns than all the remaining ships the Orphan Fleet had put together and was capable of firing at them rapidly with its railguns. With twenty-two 155 mm rapid-fire guns and two 800 mm turrets working in tandem, it could launch a nightmarish, incessant barrage. 

Theo’s group was deployed on the Mirage Spire’s Level Bertha, where the Juggernauts equipped with 88 mm turrets took aim at the rapid-fire guns. They attempted to shoot at them repeatedly, but the vessel was also equipped with over fifty 40 mm antiaircraft guns. 

Under that barrage, aiming at the Morpho was hard, and keeping it pinned in place was even harder. And those antiair guns were set there to defend the two main railguns and the 155 mm rapid-fire guns. 

No matter what direction they aimed at the rapid-fire guns from, they would always be in the cross fire of the antiaircraft guns. The occasional shot managed to get to the rapid-fire guns, but the armor plates set to defend them were too thick. They couldn’t penetrate them from this distance. 

If there was one way to decisively remove them… 

“We have to get closer. We have to board the ship.” 

The Noctiluca was slightly outside the range a Reginleif would be able to jump across. They couldn’t leap to it. Looking around, Theo searched for something they could use. 

There. 

“Laughing Fox to all units. I’m boarding the enemy! Cover me!” 

He thrust his unit’s control sticks forward. Laughing Fox sprung like an arrow. Instead of jumping down the floors, he jumped to the exterior of the Spire, using his three-dimensional movement to travel even faster. He fired his anchor forward to stabilize his unit, moving vertically down the tower. 

A transmission from Raiden soon blew into his ear. 

“Don’t be crazy, Theo! You’re letting panic get the better of you!” 

“It’s fine. I’m not panicking.” 

That was a lie. He was terrified, and he knew it. He couldn’t deny the lump of emotion smoldering in his heart, overwhelming him and taking away his reasoning. 

Shin should have found his salvation. He could see his future… He could have been happy, and he was lost. 

Mercilessly. All too easily. All too quickly. This was the only kind of equality that really existed. And if that was the case… 

We who can’t be saved are probably going to get consumed all the more mercilessly. We really will die. 

“But…I can’t not do anything crazy here.” 

If he was to contain the desire to scream out the smoldering lump in his heart, he had to do this. 

He kept sprinting down until he spotted what looked like a jumping board, positioned diagonally over the sea. It was likely some kind of scaffolding that had been bent down the middle by the falling beams. 

“Go…!” 

He landed on it precisely and, without breaking his momentum, sprinted to the edge and jumped off the tip. 

“Artillery squadron, switch ammunition to antipersonnel buckshot. Fire as soon as you’ve loaded!” 

Seeing Laughing Fox’s plunge, Lena immediately gave that order. Much like the incendiary bombs, she brought this ammo to counter the optical camouflage. This couldn’t help penetrate the Noctiluca’s deck, which could even withstand bombardment, but the flames could blind its sensors. 

Theo couldn’t dodge midjump, and so she gave that order to ensure he wouldn’t be shot down. In the distance, the Noctiluca was covered by a blooming cloud of flames and smoke. It would take a moment for the blast’s sound to reach them, though. 

“Continue firing! Keep up the barrage until further orders!” 

Both Theo’s shout that he would board the enemy and Lena’s orders to cover for him reached Kurena through the Resonance. She was still standing frozen in place on Level Carla, where she’d evacuated to escape the railgun’s bombardment. Some part of her mind remarked that she should be helping cover for him, but she couldn’t move. 

Her vision was dazed and unfocused. The head-mounted display followed her eye movements, the reticle swirling in place. Watching it was headache-inducing. Her right hand was shaking, and she couldn’t bring herself to clench it. She couldn’t even feel the control stick it was holding. 

After all…Shin had fallen. The one person whom she thought would never leave her. Just like the many comrades she’d met before and since meeting him. Just like Kaie and Haruto and Kujo and Kino did two years ago in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. Just like her parents, who were beaten to death by soldiers as part of a joke… Just like her sister, whom she loved more than anything but who never came back. 

Shin alone was the only one who would always return. The only one who’d never leave her side. The only one who wouldn’t abandon her…! 

“No…no, don’t…don’t leave me…!” 

She stood stock-still. Her muscles wouldn’t budge, and all her thoughts drew blanks. She couldn’t move. But her hands alone wouldn’t stop shaking, and her eyes kept wandering, refusing to fixate on anything. She felt like she couldn’t hit even a single shell if she tried. 

Because being next to him was the only place she belonged. She had nothing else. Even if she were to lose her pride, they would still be comrades. That wouldn’t change. And just that would be enough to keep her going. 

Something ran up to Gunslinger. An ivory-white shadow, like polished bone. A prowling, skeletal spider creeping across the battlefield in search of its lost head. A Reginleif. 

…Seeking its lost head. Seeking his brother’s stolen head. But she wouldn’t be able to wander the battlefield in search of it all alone like he could… She wouldn’t be able to find Shin’s lost whereabouts. 

The Reginleif’s red optical sensor turned to face her. Red, just like a certain someone’s eyes. It had the Personal Mark of a scaled, winged maiden. Melusine, Shana’s rig. Apparently, the Brísingamen squadron saw that they didn’t have enough hands on deck to handle the Phönix and joined them on Level Carla. 

She could hear Shana’s cool voice connect to the Resonance and speak to her. 

“Kurena, what are you doing? We need to cover for—” 

But just as she spoke, Shana realized why Kurena wasn’t doing anything. She didn’t even make an effort to hide her irritation, clicking her tongue and leaving only one remark through the Resonance. 

“If you’re not going to shoot, get down from here. You’re in the way.” 

Those words hit her stronger than anything else. Yes, that was right. 

She was being useless. 

Laughing Fox’s ten-tonne weight drew an arc as it soared past the blue abyss. Upon reaching the zenith of his jump, it began falling in midair with nothing beneath it. It was just shy of reaching the Noctiluca’s deck. 

Theo fired a wire anchor, which coiled around a radar mast, and reeled it back to compensate for the distance he didn’t have. Noticing his reckless charge, the antiaircraft guns fixed their sights on him. But the moment their line of fire turned to him, shells flew in and burst one after another. Their flames and shock waves obfuscated the line of fire, hiding Laughing Fox from the Noctiluca. 

Theo retrieved the wire anchor he’d coiled around the enemy vessel, then fired another anchor in the opposite direction. It fixed itself into the ship’s broadside as the other anchor noisily returned to its launcher. The recoil as well as gravity yanked Laughing Fox out of the antiaircraft guns’ range. 

The fixed wire kept him hanging as he moved downward over the water. Reeling his wire back, he climbed up and hopped down to the Noctiluca’s deck. 

The antiaircraft guns fired in pursuit of Laughing Fox, their bullets gouging into the deck. Laughing Fox evaded their shots, hiding behind a pile of beams lying on the deck—likely pieces of the Spire’s scaffolding. 

I guess the Morpho wasn’t keen on shooting down the floors because this thing was right beneath us. 

Soon after, others followed his lead, using their anchors to board the ship. Lerche’s Chaika, Yuuto’s Verethragna, and the surviving Alkonosts. The antipersonnel buckshot formed smoke screens that hid them from the antiaircraft guns, and they soon took cover in the same spots as him. 

Theo could see the beams they were using as a sprung weight bend under their load and roll away loudly. Chaika, who was hiding closest to Laughing Fox, sent a reproachful look in his direction. 

“You shouldn’t go on such reckless ventures, Sir Fox…! Leave this kind of foolhardiness to Sir Reaper, if you will!” 

“Keep your angry chirping for later, birdie… You know what we have to do, right, guys? We crush the railguns. That should let the cruisers and the supercarrier get closer and scuttle this thing with their cannons.” 

Even if they were to scatter around the Noctiluca’s full three-hundred-meter length and add to the bombardment, the Juggernaut’s 88 mm cannon was like a peashooter against this massive vessel. If they were to sink this thing, they’d have to definitively destroy the control core, and the only thing that could manage that was a close-range shot from a large-caliber turret. 

That said, penetrating the railguns’ armor would be difficult, too. The Juggernauts would have to fire their 88 mm turrets at close range, and to do that, they’d need to dispose of the enemies guarding it. 

“So first, we’d need to get rid of those annoying rapid-fire guns…” 

“Getting rid of the antiaircraft guns comes first, Rikka,” Yuuto said composedly. “Our units are the only ones atop the Noctiluca. We shouldn’t expect any reinforcements, and trying to destroy the rapid-fire guns with these numbers would be suicide.” 

Theo exhaled. Yuuto was right. Their springboard was gone, and besides, the only ones who could pull the stunts needed to board the ship were vanguards who were skilled with these kinds of acrobatics. Talking to Yuuto always felt like talking to a machine, but his levelheadedness was useful at times like these. 

“I told the guys back at the fortress to focus fire on the antiaircraft guns, too, but we can’t leave it to them. It’d be more efficient if we got rid of the guns.” 

“I believe we can let the fleet handle the rapid-fire guns as well. But even a shot from point-blank range might not be enough to sink this ship, unless it’s aimed directly at the control core…” 

The thing was three hundred meters long, after all. Even the Stella Maris and the long-distance cruisers’ 40 cm guns would only be able to punch pinholes into it. This was a battleship, and it likely had damage-control systems to match its size and status. In other words, even if the hull were to be breached, it had mechanisms in place meant to minimize the amount of water flooding in. 

Based on what Ishmael told them, nuclear-power boats like the Stella Maris had their engines heavily armored. So much so that even if an airplane were to crash into it—which would carry the same amount of force as a torpedo’s direct hit—it wouldn’t damage the reactor. 

Since the Noctiluca had no visible smokestacks or funnels, it likely ran on nuclear power, too. So even if they were to aim at the engine, it wouldn’t do much damage. The central processor was this mechanical monstrosity’s sole weakness. The only thing that could definitely silence it, though one wouldn’t guess it by its exterior. 

Vika connected through the Sensory Resonance. He’d likely been listening in through Lerche. 

“I’ll handle the investigation and analysis with regard to that. Now that the Phönix are out and about, we can infiltrate it even at a Sirin’s size.” 

The Alkonosts’ cockpit opened, and a small group of mechanical dolls in the shape of girls descended to the deck. 

“I doubt there’s any corridor or hatch leading to its central processor, but going inside can give us insight we won’t be able to glean from the outside… This might be a Legion unit, but if the layout follows any logic, the internal facilities should be positioned roughly the same as an existing warship. If we assume this is meant to be a battleship or an amphibious assault ship, we can hazard a few guesses about the layout.” 

Theo didn’t have the first clue what an amphibious assault ship even was. 

“…I don’t really get it, but if you can pull that off, we’re counting on you, Prince.” 

“I’d imagine I’m the only one who possibly could pull it off. Milizé and her control aides have their hands full, so I’m the only one with the leisure to pull it off.” 

He spoke in a detached tone but then added, with a hint of annoyance: 

“If Nouzen were here, we wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble to find out where the control core is.” 

“…” 

The presumptuous, offhanded jab made Theo grit his teeth. Vika had called himself a heartless Serpent of Shackles plenty of times before, and now Theo finally understood why. 

“Yeah, well. He’s gone now… So we have to figure this one out on our own.” 

He peeked out from behind the cover. Beyond the antiaircraft and rapid-fire guns loomed the weapon that shot Undertaker down—his killer, the railgun. 

And to take it down… 

“First, we take care of the antiaircraft guns.” 

“Right,” Yuuto said. “I’d rather not get shot in the back, so let’s start by getting rid of the ones on the bow side.” 

This fortress made of beams offered the Phönix plenty of footing to take advantage of. They jumped about in three-dimensional movement, shifting both horizontally and vertically to attack. To draw them out, some Juggernauts sprinted forward, acting as decoys. Armed with tank turrets that stressed penetrating force, the only armaments they had that could sweep across long distances were the heavy machine guns attached to their grappling arms. Those were a poor fit for fighting the Phönix, which were meant to hunt down vanguards focused on high-mobility combat. 

To begin with, the Phönix trumped the Reginleif in terms of mobility. The mass-produced models were larger and looked as if their weight was greater, but their agility was the same as the original’s. Their frames were better armored, and their output had apparently been augmented to match it. 

And while the 88 mm turret’s shells moved at high speeds, they were designed to concentrate their strength at one point at their very tip, and they couldn’t hope to effectively hit it. And so… 

“Raiden, go ahead!” 

“Right!” 

As the decoy Juggernauts passed him by, Raiden and his temporary platoon rose to their feet, firing their autocannons and dual machine guns. This temporary platoon of Juggernauts had 40 mm autocannons loaded on their gun mount arms. 

A shower of steel covered the entire range they predicted the Phönix might try to flee in. Having been drawn by their prey into bombardment range, the Phönix were hit by the barrage head-on. 

A tank turret was a bad fit for handling them. And since the Juggernauts were slower than the Phönix, if they were to be chased down, they wouldn’t be able to shake them off. So instead, they took advantage of the pursuit—and used it to lure them into the kill zone. 

This was a tactic they’d already established. Having predicted mass-produced Phönix might be included in this operation, Lena increased the number of personnel who had weapons that were better fit for handling them. In addition to the autocannons, each unit was assisted by Juggernauts with a buckshot-cannon configuration. 

The area-suppression unit’s multi-rocket launchers had the Phönix registered in their target tracking data. In addition, all the Juggernauts’ computers were updated with the calculations for the original Phönix’s speed and mobility patterns. 

And so a group of Phönix ran into the line of fire, where they were torn apart by the bullets. Of course, with Shin absent, they couldn’t confirm their voices had died down…meaning they looked away from their remains only after they were convinced none of the Phönix were playing dead. 

—Next. 

Raiden wiped the sweat from his brow and exhaled. He’d realized he was breathing quickly throughout that whole affair. They were able to put up a resistance since they’d already established countermeasures, but this wasn’t an easy battle by any means. 

Still, the very fact that they had some way of fighting back meant they were doing better than Theo’s group, who had boarded the Noctiluca. They had to face off against that gigantic monster and its railguns. 

Even still… 

“Anju, Dustin, you can leave this place to us.” 

“What?” Anju replied, visibly confused. “Raiden, the Phönix are still—” 

“Go down. Cover for Theo… Help him, please.” 

Anju swallowed her breath in shock. Realizing only now that he was absent, Snow Witch’s optical sensor gazed at the Noctiluca and the white forms fighting atop it with amazement. 

“…Roger that. Good lord, Theo, what are you doing…?!” 

“Shuga, Emma, we’ll be covering for them from here. Hurry up, though.” 

A few Processors who were listening in stepped forward with Snow Witch and Sagittarius and moved away. As they did, Raiden could see Shiden’s Brísingamen squadron chasing the Phönix down like starved wolves, surrounding them and beating them down. 

But the squadron’s vice captain, Shana, wasn’t among them. Her unit, Melusine, was currently at the top floor of the Spire, Carla Three. She was sniping down the antiair guns. This was originally Gunslinger’s role, but she was too confused to move right now. 

…He couldn’t blame her. Kurena and Theo had succumbed to tunnel vision. Lena was functioning right now, but at the moment Shin fell, she was in a clear state of panic, and Raiden himself was shaken up. He could clearly tell. 

After all, he couldn’t hear it anymore. 

After all this time, the irritating screaming of the ghosts was like constant background noise. And most prominent of all were the strange voices of the Noctiluca. For years, that red-eyed Reaper had led them… 

…You stupid dumbass. 

And he was that stupid dumbass’s unfortunate vice captain. Raiden narrowed his reddish-black eyes. Filling the blank left in Shin’s absence fell on him. 

The Juggernauts repeatedly fired from the Mirage Spire in an attempt to whittle down the antiaircraft and rapid-fire guns, with some of their units going so far as to board the Noctiluca. Meanwhile, the Orphan Fleet’s bombardment was gradually damaging the rapid-fire guns as well. 

However, the only things capable of destroying the control core from close-range would have to be large-caliber guns. The fleet couldn’t afford to let any more ships sink, so they had to keep enough distance to avoid any shells launched their way. They kept changing their course so as to avoid being aimed at while they fired. 

Even still, they fired until their guns were on the verge of overheating, and they were running low on the shells they’d insisted on bringing in large numbers in anticipation of battle with the Morpho. They’d opted out of bringing torpedoes—which, ironically enough, would have been extremely effective against the Noctiluca—to add more shells, and they were still running low. 

The two slower vessels and the rescue crafts finally caught up to the rest of the fleet. They’d picked up a few scant survivors from the Denebola and, through them, found out that the homeland communicated they’d be sending a reinforcement fleet. 

The Noctiluca didn’t get away from the battle unscathed, either. The liquid metal inside one of its 800 mm railguns’ spear-like turrets—the part that formed the electromagnetic field—was being blown off by the recoil of the bombardment. 

The barrel was wearing down. 

Silver slag dripped from the railgun like burning snow, sinking into the boundless expanse of the sea. And it seemed that even though the force that had boarded it was smaller than a squadron, the Noctiluca had concluded it couldn’t very well let them move about freely. It had recalled several of the Phönix it had dispatched to the Mirage Spire. 

As obvious a decision as it was, Theo couldn’t help but click his tongue. How much longer would this thing be a thorn in their side? All the Juggernauts that boarded the Noctiluca were vanguard units equipped with 88 mm turrets. It was because they were the type of Eighty-Six who were adept at high-mobility combat that they could make that jump with such scant footing. But this also meant they were equipped with the worst possible configuration for facing the Phönix. 

The artillery unit under Lena’s command was offering them covering fire, and the Juggernauts firing from atop the Mirage Spire were using anti-light-armor buckshot. The help was very welcome and served to blow away the liquid armor the Phönix had, while also stalling them. 

The smoke and flames of the bombardment cleared away, and another newly returned Phönix hopped to the top of the railgun’s turret. Laughing Fox’s optical screen switched targets as it jumped down to face this enemy. 

“…!” 

Theo had only just now noticed its presence. The proximity alert blared. He couldn’t hear the mechanical ghost’s wailing. He couldn’t tell where they were hiding. Because Shin wasn’t there. Until now, he could always hear where the Legion were hiding, and even if he didn’t, the fact that he shared Shin’s ability through the Resonance meant he could always tell how many enemies were in the vicinity. 

But now Shin wasn’t there. How many years had it been since Theo stood on the battlefield without him? Theo realized now, too late into the game, that he couldn’t remember how he’d fought before that. 

He’d been relying on him for that long. 

He hopped away, straining his rig to its full capacity. As the Phönix landed with a crash, Theo aimed the heavy machine guns on Laughing Fox’s grappling arms and fired at it. But exhibiting the unnatural reaction speeds unique to these murder machines, the Phönix nimbly jumped away and escaped his line of fire, landing among a group of menacing, silver shadows. 

And lying at their feet was… 

…a single high-frequency blade. 

“Is that…?” 

That’s Undertaker’s …! 

When it clashed with the Phönix, he’d stabbed into it with this blade, and it likely snapped off then. In the entirety of the Strike Package, Shin was the only one to equip high-frequency blades to his grappling arms. In a battlefield where heavy machine guns and tank turrets with several kilometers in range reigned supreme, only very few chose to use melee weapons in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

And by now their headless reaper was the only one who still did. 

The Phönix stepped over the blade. With Shin and Undertaker having crashed into the ocean, this could very well have been the last remaining splinter of his unit. And those heartless murder machines were about to ruthlessly and impassively walk all over it. 

At that moment, the emotion that flared up in Theo couldn’t be called anger. It was resolve and determination. 

“…!” 

Swiveling his 88 mm turret, he began firing rapidly. The Phönix jumped away to dodge, and he chased them away with further bombardment, reaching the spot they stood on. He was now in the middle of this pack of silver beasts. 

But that was fine. 

“—Fido!” 

Switching his external speaker on, he shouted. The loyal Scavenger going about its work diligently at the bottom of the Spire, while still clearly worried for Shin’s fate, turned around. It immediately responded to his call, rolling over to the edge of the Spire, and Theo moved quickly, kicking the blade over to it. 

His call was perhaps too vague to count as an order for a Scavenger, but Fido seemed to have understood just the same. It stood still for a second, then moved over to the blade’s estimated landing point. Earnestly keeping a track on is falling trajectory with its optical sensor, it caught it with the container on its back. 

“Keep it safe! Bring it back no matter what!” 

Fido’s optical sensor swerved up and down, as if nodding, just as Theo noticed a flock of enemies approaching him. He’d always relied on Shin. Always depended on him and his ability to hear the Legion’s screams and pinpoint their positions. 

He who’d remembered all the comrades who died before him and promised he’d carry their memories in his heart to the final moment. Who always shouldered the role of a vanguard, who cut through enemy lines and obstructed their advance. 

And most importantly, he who also ran through showers of bullets and locked blades with the enemy in melee combat, even as he was constantly exposed to their deafening screams. All to defend his comrades. 

This was the only thing Theo could do to inherit his will. 

As he stood surrounded by the metal monstrosities, he saw a few of them move in to block his avenues of escape. He still made an effort to keep his voice calm. 

“Laughing Fox to all units. I’ll distract the Phönix. I’ll cut into their ranks and keep them occupied. Use that chance to eliminate the target.” 

I’ll cut that opportunity wide open for you. I’ll inherit that role. 

Not even bothering to listen to the reactions, he thrust his control sticks forward. Paying no mind to the fact that he was surrounded, he stepped forward to face the Phönix. He’d charged into their ranks, disrupted their movements, and gathered their lines of fire on himself. By exposing himself to danger, he’d given his allies the opening they’d need. 

Just like their Reaper…like Shin always did. 

Firing her buckshot cannon to scare them off, Shiden raced through Level Carla as she attempted to cut off the Phönix units’ speedy escape. Lena’s dignified and somewhat ferocious voice reached her through the Resonance. 

“All units, load canister shells! Fire!” 

With a shower of buckshot in the final Phönix’s way, it hopped away to avoid being hit, when— 

“Point E12, standby orders lifted! Fire!” 

A Juggernaut that lay in wait rose from its hiding spot and unleashed machine-gun fire upon the Phönix. Hearing her commanding voice, Shiden heaved an internal sigh of relief. 

You pulled yourself together, Lena. 

Personally, she thought a guy like Shin wasn’t worth losing one’s composure over in the first place. It pissed her off. He had the skill worthy of his title of Reaper and willingly took it upon himself. She could respect that. 

But holy shit, was he a rare breed of idiot. 

Seriously. After all they’d been through, that’s how he went out?! 

“If you actually died there, I’ll chase you down to hell and kill you all over again, Lady-Killer.” 

With all the Phönix atop the Mirage Spire eliminated, the Juggernauts resumed their assistance in the firefight against the Noctiluca. Having received this report, Lena took a long, sharp breath. The battle wasn’t over yet. The Noctiluca was still at large. 

Despite six years of experience on the battlefield, Theo wasn’t familiar with engaging the Legion in melee combat. Especially not when it came to opponents like the Phönix. The stress levels were higher than in any other battle he’d been in before. 

Another Phönix lunged at him. He’d lost count of how many there were. The moment they intersected, he loosed a barrage of heavy-machine-gun fire like the swinging of a blade. It wasn’t enough to take it down. Laughing Fox jumped over the armored deck, dragging its feet as it sprinted away. 

Theo was surrounded by enemies. The moment he stopped, they would catch up to him. And if that happened, death was guaranteed. He’d always thought he was used to mortal peril, but now he felt it more vividly than ever. Fighting in such close quarters, it breathed down his neck, coiling around him and refusing to let go. 

His survival instinct, that most primal of impulses, was screaming at him. I don’t want to die. His every sense, every bit of his consciousness was strained, forming a tightly knit, sharp strand of focus and concentration. 

Yes, he did not want to die. His mind rejected death with all its might. He couldn’t afford to fall here. Because dying here wouldn’t match Shin’s death. It wasn’t a death he could call just or satisfying. Shin would have perished for naught. 

There was no one there to redeem the captain. The way Theo was now, he hadn’t done anything to repay his sacrifice. 

…That’s not good enough. I can’t accept that. 

Enemy fire was upon him. Paying no heed to their overheating barrels, the antiaircraft guns began shooting at Laughing Fox. But in the next moment, missiles launched by a Juggernaut burst above the guns, unleashing a spray of armor-piercing buckshot. 

This world might be rife with malice, but admitting that was just how things were was nothing more than submitting and resigning himself to that ill will. It would be admitting he was nothing more than someone who deserved to be stolen from. Someone who could gain nothing, whose role in life was to be walked on. 

It would be admitting that he, and his comrades, and the Open Sea clans, and Shin, and the captain all deserved to die—to be robbed of their pride. And he didn’t want that. He wouldn’t admit it. Never. 

With the Noctiluca’s bow secured by the other Juggernauts, wire anchors shot forth from the cover of the Spire’s scaffolding. Two anchors latched on to the deck, and new Juggernauts boarded the ship, kicking against the ground as they landed. 

Raiden’s Wehrwolf, Anju’s Snow Witch, and Dustin’s Sagittarius. Apparently, a few of the rescue ships towed some of the beams that had fallen from the Noctiluca’s missed shot, holding them up along the wall. A handful of the panels happened to not fall, allowing for the beams to form a foothold for the other units to board the ship. 

The footing fell down into the water after it repeatedly had to support a weight of over ten tonnes. The rescue boats hurriedly let go of the beams and moved away, so as to not be dragged down with them. 

The moment it landed, Snow Witch unleashed a barrage of rockets from its launcher. Wehrwolf fired as well. The unleashed armor-piercing buckshot and autocannon fire mowed through the air, forcing the units closing in on Laughing Fox to scatter. 

“I’m sorry we took so long, Theo,” Anju called out. 

“Leave the rest of the Phönix to us… And don’t pull any more crazy stunts. You don’t have to imitate that part of him, too.” 

“…Right.” 

His breathing was still ragged. Theo inhaled heavily. As the rain of steel flew through the air, he looked up at the two railguns. 

He was reminded of the words he heard before the battle started. 

So long as you live, you can find it. 

That had to have been a lie. Ishmael might not have meant to lie when he said it, but it was a lie all the same. And even if it wasn’t, it definitely wasn’t the truth. 

To live on, one had to find something to give them purpose. Even if they’d lost it, they had to find the one thing to give them shape. Even after it was taken from them, they had to push forward if they intended to survive. Otherwise, they would be defeated. They’d die and have it taken from them. 

One had to find it. No matter what was taken from them or how many times they had been deprived. They had to keep their head up, even if that meant lying to themselves. 

I don’t want to live life ashamed of who I am. 

Isn’t that right, Shin? I don’t want to be ashamed, either. Not of myself, nor of you or the captain. I’ll avenge you two, so I don’t have to live in shame… 

A maintenance machine discovered and disposed of the last Sirin that remained of the force that’d infiltrated the Noctiluca’s interior. 

“Tch…” Vika couldn’t help but click his teeth in annoyance. 

He’d been able to narrow down the control core’s position, but it still wasn’t clear. It felt like he was so close to pulling it off, but now that he didn’t have any means of gathering intel, he couldn’t hope to produce a perfect result. 

To begin with, the Stella Maris was running short on shells. He connected to the integrated bridge through the Para-RAID and parted his lips to speak. 

“Milizé, Captain, I’ll send you my current estimate of the control core’s position. I narrowed it down to three possible spots, but I can’t investigate any more than that. I’m sorry that all I can send are incomplete results, but…” 

Large-caliber cannons meant for naval battles had a longer range than a tank turret. Gadyuka’s 120 mm cannon wasn’t quite good enough for the task, either. But based on how close it was to the target, it might prove useful. 

Vika spoke, sending the data with one hand and punching in commands for combat maneuvers with the other… 

…but his hand stopped as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of steel-blue at the end of the hangar. 

The bombardment from the Mirage Spire blew away the final antiaircraft gun. The last remaining Phönix on the Noctiluca was pushed off the deck, as if in an act of vengeance for what it did to Shin. As those reports were shouted through the radio, the Benetnasch’s final shot intersected with the 800 mm cannon’s trajectory. 

A 40 cm shell shed its outer layer above the Noctiluca, scattering bombs that fell over the last remaining couple of 155 mm rapid-fire guns on the portside and exploded. As it happened, the 800 mm shell gouged into the Benetnasch’s hull. Its stern was torn off with almost comical ease. The propellers were damaged as well, making it rapidly lose speed and stop in place. 

The Benetnasch was stranded in place. 

As he watched it happen over the screen, Ishmael parted his lips. With this, the Noctiluca’s armaments were reduced to five rapid-fire guns, which were fixed on the starboard—the opposite direction of them. And of course, there were the most menacing weapons of all, the two main turrets. 

But despite that, the Benetnasch was rendered immobile, and both of the Basilicus’s main guns were damaged. The Stella Maris was running out of shells as well, with only its spare ammo depot remaining in its arsenal. Should they deplete that, Ishmael was willing to sink the enemy by ramming them if need be. But before it came to that… 

“We’re preparing to fire the anti-leviathan gun. Captain Milizé.” 

The girl focused on commanding the Juggernauts turned to face him. 

“Take your troops and prepare to evacuate the ship. The rescue boats will collect you, so use them to go back. That applies to the Eighty-Six inside the Spire, too. The rescue boats should sidle up to the bottom of the base. You’ll have to abandon the Reginleifs, but they have room for the kids.” 

The generals who planned this operation insisted on attaching two more rescue boats for that explicit purpose. So that in the worst-case scenario, where the Stella Maris was rendered immobile, the child soldiers would still be returned home. 

“The Strike Package has completed its objectives. You took control of the enemy base and eliminated the Morpho. So you’ve done enough. You don’t have to take part in the Fleet Countries’ and the Orphan Fleet’s war any longer.” 

But Lena shook her head firmly. 

“No.” 

This was Ishmael’s responsibility, resolve, and sense of pride. But the Eighty-Six had their own pride to adhere to in this situation, and as their queen, she had a responsibility to see it through. 

“Leaving you behind and running away would leave a bad taste in their mouths. And it would wound my pride, too. So long as they continue to fight, I have to stay on the same battlefield as them. I won’t make preparations to flee.” 

An elevator ferried a patrol helicopter on the Benetnasch’s tilted top deck. They revved up the helicopter’s engine until they achieved liftoff, though their ascent was a wobbly one. That was because they’d attached cannon shells to parts without pylons, making the helicopter exceed its normal weight capacity. It was clear with a glance that it was armed to self-destruct, effectively made into a missile that would plummet toward the Noctiluca. 

With that sight as their backdrop, the two sovereigns glared at each other. The final leader of the clans that fought monsters across the merciless seas, and the queen leading the Eighty-Six who survived the horrors of the Eighty-Sixth Sector. 

“…If things get too dicey, I’ll exert my captain’s authority to have you evacuate. All right?” 

The helicopter’s suicidal charge was right in front of the Noctiluca. They could see the starboard’s rapid-fire guns revolving to shoot it and how it was gunned down before it could achieve its task. 

The helicopter crashed down, reduced to a lump of metal that didn’t even resemble its original shape. The shells it carried caught fire and exploded. In the blink of an eye, the ocean was lit ablaze. 

The long-distance cruiser ran on nuclear power, but the patrol helicopters it carried ran on gas turbine engines. The ships had jet fuel for refueling purposes, which leaked from the Benetnasch and the Denebola, spreading over the water’s surface. Vaporized fuel caught fire. Red flames slithered across the sea’s surface. 

The blue battlefield of the open sea was dyed red. 

Lit up by those flames, the Noctiluca continued firing at the Denebola, which kept it fixed in place. Its shelling finally hit the ship’s engine room. The 155 mm rapid-fire guns’ insistent shelling tore through much of the hull, exposing its interiors and stabbing into the inner mechanisms of the ship. 

None of the ship’s operators survived. The Denebola was effectively a dead, ravaged shell, only just barely moved by its engine. Finally, its propellers ground to a halt. Still, the anchoring ropes insistently clung to the Noctiluca. It was as if the hands of the sunken crew’s ghosts persisted on keeping it fixed in place. 

The Noctiluca pushed forward as if trying to shake it off, turning around as it moved. Most of the anchoring ropes were torn away, but some of them remained intact, resulting in the Noctiluca towing the ship’s wreckage as it moved. 

The Noctiluca’s engines roared like cannons as its optical sensors turned to the enemy flagship—the Stella Maris. 

The massive ship moved. It changed direction so suddenly that the hull tilted almost to the point of capsizing. As the deck pitched forward so hard that one could clearly see the water below them, Juggernauts and Phönix slipped off the deck and into the water. 

“Shit…!” 

Raiden reflexively fired an anchor, stopping Wehrwolf in place. 

Dammit. It’s on the move. We’ve only taken care of the antiaircraft guns and the Phönix, but there are still a few rapid-fire guns. 

The ship’s bow ran parallel to the Stella Maris, and as it passed it by, it turned its starboard side toward it. Its unharmed main turrets and five remaining guns swerved to aim at the supercarrier. It was the perfect position to unleash its full firepower upon the enemy craft. 

Raiden could see the Stella Maris hurriedly turning away in the distance. The two 800 mm turrets swerved to follow it, as if mocking its attempt at an escape. 

I ain’t letting you do that. 

Shin had shot down his brother, and with that as the only wish he had granted, he was meant to die without gaining anything else. And yet he lived on, showing them the way by choosing to live alongside another. 

While most of the Republic’s citizens perished in the large-scale offensive, the old woman who sheltered him and the priest who took care of Shin survived and were reunited with him. 

Salvation and restitution did exist in this world. 

It always felt as if they’d been presented with that sliver of hope. But this world proved it could be vicious enough to take it all away after making them foster that expectation. And if that was the case, the last thing Raiden was going to do was freeze up in the face of this calculated, intentional despair. 

The ship was so inclined, it was impossible to even have his Juggernaut stand upright. If he did try shooting when he was dangling off the wire anchor, he couldn’t expect his shots to be at all accurate. 

“Guess I gotta shake it up, then… All I have to do is stabilize this thing.” 

Armament selection, change. 

The sea burned, and as the flaming waves cut into its bow, the Noctiluca turned head. Snow Witch dumped its now-empty missile pad, instead firing its heavy machine guns in rapid barrages. The other Juggernauts on the deck stabilized themselves with wire anchors as well. The deck’s incline had become so steep, Snow Witch’s legs were dangling against the air as Anju stabilized her unit. 

She could see one of the Noctiluca’s 800 mm turrets turn, but she didn’t have any armaments capable of attacking it. Heavy machine guns, as devastating a weapon as they were, couldn’t hope to deal any significant damage to such a massive turret. 

…Lena’s on that ship. And Frederica, too. What do we do …? 

Anju gritted her teeth. It was then that she saw something ahead of her. A piece of metal scaffolding had slipped down the inclined deck and stuck into place, and tangled with it was an Alkonost, now devoid of its Sirin. Alkonosts were equipped with high explosives for self-destruction purposes, so as to prevent the Legion from accessing any classified information within them. 

Hanging near her was Sagittarius. They’d formed an impromptu team of two, covering for each other as they swept up the Phönix…and they both ran out of ammunition at the same time. 

Snow Witch wasn’t quite close enough to the Alkonost. Sagittarius was closer, but since Dustin had significantly less experience piloting a Reginleif, it wasn’t likely that he’d be able to pull this kind of stunt. 

“…Anju.” 

“I know.” 

But they had no other choice. 

“But…you’d better not forget.” 

He was their vanguard. He always cut ahead, fighting through everything in their way, even showing them his way of life and giving them hope. He’d shown the happiness that lay in looking toward the future and wishing for more. Both to her, and to Dustin. 

Even if he’d been lost to this battle. 

“Of course not. How could I ever?” 

She could feel Dustin smile through the Resonance. 

“I won’t die and leave you behind.” 

Armament selection, change. Leg-mounted armor-piercing pile drivers. All four, simultaneous triggering. 

Fire. 

Wehrwolf’s four 57 mm electromagnetic pile drivers thrust into the armored deck, fixing the Reginleif in place. The recoil dislodged the anchors as the wires drew an arc through the air. Raiden then hurriedly returned his armament selection to his main turret. The Reginleif’s 40 mm autocannon was set on its rear gun mount arm, which was capable of rotating, albeit to a limited extent. 

He once again squeezed the trigger. 

“How do you like…this?!” 

Tracing his field of vision, the wavering sights adjusted as the autocannon roared like an animal, unleashing a barrage of shells into the air. 

Sagittarius’s leg-mounted pile drivers all fired, fixing his unit in place. 

“Now, Anju! Go!” 

As he did, Snow Witch kicked hard against the inclined deck, launching herself into a jump. Using Sagittarius as a second footing, she jumped farther away, landing on the scaffolding. Sooner than it could bend under Snow Witch’s weight, Anju kicked away the Alkonost with all the force her unit could muster. 

“Please! Get there!” 

Looking up as in prayer, she fired her dual heavy machine guns. 

Wehrwolf’s autocannon fire reached near the 800 mm cannon at the ship’s stern, penetrating the liquid metal in charge of forming the electromagnetic field within it. His autocannon might not have been able to destroy the turret itself, but the massive impact of his shots had more than enough power to shatter the liquid metal like a pane of glass. 

Meanwhile, on the bow side of the ship, the Alkonost plummeted into the muzzle of the 800 mm cannon. Snow Witch’s machine-gun fire tore through the Alkonost, igniting and triggering the high explosives within it. The explosion it caused traveled at eight thousand meters per second, scattering the liquid metal away. 

The next moment, the turret fired an 800 mm shell, its trajectory slightly disturbed by the disrupted electromagnetic field. While the two ships were locked in naval combat at what was effectively point-blank range, the trajectory was diverted by some ten kilometers, resulting in a missed shot. 

Both of the railguns’ powerful shots missed the Stella Maris by a wide margin, plummeting into the sea beside them. A massive, almost sweeping tidal wave washed over the Stella Maris’s flight deck. But humankind’s largest battleship, with a displacement of ten thousand tonnes, would not be overturned so easily. 

The Juggernauts onboard the flight deck also managed to avoid being swept away by the waves. However, in exchange for their mother ship’s safety… 

The recoil of the firing resulted in a heavier strain than the piles could handle, making them come off. The scaffolding creaked under the weight of a ten-tonne Reginleif, rolling away noisily. 

Wehrwolf, Snow Witch, and Sagittarius all slipped away from the inclined deck. They all tried firing wire anchors, but none of them made it in time. 

Three pillars of water splashed against the Noctiluca’s flank. 

They were only able to disrupt two destructive shots from the 800 mm cannons. The five autocannons’ fire freely flew toward the Stella Maris. The barrage traveled in a vicious fan formation, ensuring that no matter if the ship moved left or right, it would get hit. 

The Stella Maris chose neither. It took a gentle turn, confronting the Noctiluca directly, and in the few seconds before impact, it assumed the position where the least surface area would be hit. The storm may have passed, but the winds were still quite intense, and in an ironic twist, the tidal waves that resulted from the 800 mm shells hit the Stella Maris a second before the 155 mm shells could, further pushing the supercarrier off their trajectory. 

Impeded by the intense winds and knocked out of their aim by the waves, the rapid-fire shells that should have hit the Stella Maris’s bow only ended in a point-blank miss, skimming the ship’s broadside and landing in the ocean. 

That was where their good luck ran out, though. 

“An impact on propellor number two?! It looks to be out of commission!” 

As that report reached his ears, Ishmael clicked his tongue. 

“The shells hit us underwater. Talk about rotten luck at the very end…” 

When a shell entered the water at a certain angle, water resistance could cause it to move in a straight trajectory. One of the shots that skimmed the Stella Maris accidentally kept going in a direct trajectory, hitting the propeller. 

Four propellers drove the gigantic vessel forward. The Stella Maris was already slower than the Noctiluca, and with one of them gone, it had suffered a fatal decrease in speed and mobility. 

“Raiden?! Anju!” 

Feeling Raiden, Anju, and Dustin get disconnected from the Resonance, Theo raised his voice in panic. Paying no heed to the Juggernauts that had fallen off its deck, the Noctiluca composedly finished turning its rudder. The vessel gradually returned from its slanted position to a horizontal bearing. 

“…!” 

This was his chance to attack. After all, the railguns barely had any defenses left. The Stella Maris was stuck; perhaps it had failed to evade the rapid-fire shells. And right in front of the Noctiluca, of all places! 

As if spurred forward by the sight of his comrades’ sacrifices, Theo lunged Laughing Fox forward. But seeing through him, two Feldreß stood in its way. One was a Alkonost that looked like a sculpture chiseled out of ice, and the other was an ivory Reginleif, just like his. Lerche’s Chaika and Yuuto’s Verethragna. 

The only two that remained of the units that boarded the Noctiluca with him. 

“There are two enemy cannons, Sir Fox. You cannot defeat them alone.” 

“The enemy’s smart… They still have something up their sleeve.” 

The inhuman girl’s coldness and the emotionless tone of his comrade were like splashes of cold water over his heated nerves. Realizing he was once again settling into tunnel vision, he took a long breath. 

“Sorry… Thanks.” 

Verethragna regarded him with a glance. 

“You handle the main guns, Rikka… You get the finishing blow.” 

The Noctiluca finished turning, reverting to its original state. The deck once again shifted horizontally and then began tilting in the opposite direction. It had turned its rudder the other way, swiveling its bow in the direction of the Stella Maris, which had lost speed all of a sudden. It was approaching the enemy ship, exhibiting full intent to kill. 

Even a Reginleif couldn’t move when the deck was completely inclined. This was the only time they could approach the railguns, and Yuuto had no intention of letting that chance pass him by. His eyes, as cold and emotionless as Verethragna’s optical sensor, were fixed on the railguns as he spoke. 

“Verethragna to all units within the fortress. I’m attempting to destroy the enemy’s main guns. I’ll designate the bow-side gun Frieda and the stern-side gun Gisela. I’ll begin with Frieda… I’m counting on you to eliminate the starboard rapid-fire guns.” 

He didn’t have the time to prioritize removing the rapid-fire guns, and he didn’t have the leisure to wait for reinforcements. 

The deck tilted, quickly approaching the point where running across it would become impossible. 

“…Lerche.” 

“Always ready,” she replied with a nod, her voice like the chirping of a bird. 

“—Let’s go.” 

They charged forward. Chaika had a slight lead on him. The Noctiluca’s deck drew a steep incline toward the center, and from their position on the bow, it almost looked like the deck was pitching above them. They sped across the burned surface, hurrying over to the bow-side turret lording over them. 

They hectically jumped left and right, evading the enemy guns’ sights with animalistic sprinting, pulling sharp turns a human would never be able to pull off. 

There were still a few active rapid-fire guns. Some of them were revolving at close range, turning to target Chaika. But the moment they were about to shoot, their consorts in the Mirage Spire fired at the guns. 

A concentrated barrage of 88 mm APFSDS shells hit the unarmored head of the guns, penetrating and bursting over them. As the point-blank explosion blew the turrets to smithereens, Chaika fearlessly sprinted through the debris. 

The 800 mm turrets were the Noctiluca’s main armaments. It wouldn’t let a few measly Feldreß destroy them. With a heavy, ominous whistling of the wind, the bow side’s Frieda and the stern side’s Gisela revolved at the same time. The thirty-meter-long, 800 mm caliber turrets turned to face two Feldreß that were far too small by comparison. 

They aimed at them, and then… 

“—Yuuto! Leave Gisela to us!” 

The next moment, as both railguns—even the stern side’s Gisela—turned to the ship’s bow to aim at Chaika, a new squadron leaped onto the ship’s stern. The distance between the Mirage Spire and the Noctiluca was by now too far for the Reginleifs to jump across by any means. But they got there through the wreckage of the Denebola—the ship that had sacrificed itself to stall the Noctiluca’s progress. 

The Noctiluca dragged its lifeless steel carcass after it as it moved, and it had served as a stepping stone between the Mirage Spire and the massive craft. When they couldn’t jump far enough, they used wire anchors to close the distance and reach the deck. 

Shiden’s Cyclops led the charge, followed by the entirety of the Brísingamen squadron, with the exception of five of their units that had been damaged in the battle, and Melusine, which stayed behind at the top of the fortress. 

Like pirates boarding an enemy ship, the girls landed on the deck and immediately clung to the turret in front of them. All fifty antiaircraft guns and twenty-two rapid-fire guns were ruined. The other turrets formed a staircase-like superstructure leading up to the main turrets. 

Firing their anchors again for support, the Reginleifs used the tips of their legs to climb up what little footing they had. With the girls flocking it beyond its barrel’s thirty-meter length, Gisela was unable to shoot. And with Gisela in its way, Frieda couldn’t aim, either. 

Left with no other choice, Gisela swung its long barrel, the wind whistling as it moved. The barrel itself was a giant mass weighing in at several hundreds of tonnes, ramming into one unfortunate, careless unit. The Reginleif bent out of shape and rolled down to the sea. But the Juggernauts, not even having the time to call out their comrade’s name, continued climbing up. 

Gisela’s turret swerved to and fro like a bucking horse, knocking out a few other units as if swatting flies. But eventually… 

Chaika had reached right in front of the bow side’s railgun, Frieda. 

Cyclops climbed up to the stern side’s railgun, Gisela. 

Above each of the turrets, the silver wings meant for relieving heat had unfurled, hanging over them like the blades of a guillotine. They fell apart like snow, becoming conductive wires for melee combat. This was the last self-defense weapon the Morpho had when it faced Shin at the Spire’s top floor. It still had that final card up its sleeve in case the enemy did manage to close in on it. 

Chaika and Cyclops were too close to the conductive wires, meaning that Lena’s tactic of disabling the wires with incendiary bombs wasn’t viable like it was against the Morpho. However… 

“—You think you can pull the rug out from under us with that overdone tactic, you metal monstrosity?” 

Chaika stopped in place and fired. Her legs screeched against the chaffed deck as she hit a sudden brake, aiming at the conductive wires swinging down at her. The timed fuse was set to trigger at minimal time lag, in midair. Depleting all its ammo, the blast shielded Chaika from the wires, tearing them apart in the process. 

Chaika was also caught up in its own blast, however, and crumpled to the ground. The shells had a minimal triggering distance, so as to ensure that the unit that fired them wouldn’t be caught in the blast radius. Lerche had disabled that setting, however. With the explosion taking place almost directly in front of her, there was no guarantee she would walk away from it unscathed. 

Pelted with the fragments of its own point-blank shot, Chaika had been torn into like a rag doll and collapsed powerlessly. But as if rising from its shadow, Yuuto’s Verethragna slipped through the storm of conductive wires and shell fragments. 

There were only twenty more meters to the turret. He was close enough to the thirty-meter-long barrel to be in its blind spot. However… 

I knew it. One step too short… 

…Yuuto could see the turret swing toward him from the corner of his eye. It had begun turning to swat Chaika away and was now about to hit him. He was just shy of reaching the back of the turret, where the control core likely was. The spear-like prongs of the barrel were approaching him in a sideways sweep. 

With his concentration strained, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Once it hit him, though, his Juggernaut wouldn’t be able to withstand a blow from such a massive, heavy weapon. 

But he’d shed away any such sense of fear or dread years ago. His comrades dying felt like a forgone conclusion. Up until he joined the Strike Package, the fact that none of them might survive felt painfully obvious. 

The barrel approached, mere moments away from bashing him. But for some reason, Yuuto was reminded of his exchange with Theo in the Spire. A tower where the higher you climbed, the more you shed away your emotions, desires, and suffering. A place of cleansing, where one ascended toward death. 

Being in the Eighty-Sixth Sector felt like a constant climb up that tower. But he was no longer climbing. They weren’t within the Eighty-Sixth Sector’s lethal bounds anymore, so they didn’t have to live as if rushing to their deaths. 

In which case, perhaps they didn’t have to discard their emotions and desires—essentially, everything but their pride—either. 

Frieda’s turret swept in to bash him like a blunt weapon. But he didn’t have the means to destroy it nor defend himself from it. So he ignored it, fixing his eyes on a different target. The conductive wires that had to be silenced if they were to destroy Frieda. He fired his 88 mm tank turret at the base of the butterfly wings, from which they extended. 

“—Shiden, I’ll handle the wires.” 

As the rest of her consorts evacuated to the lower levels, she stayed behind on the Mirage Spire’s top floor, Carla Three. One sector of the floor had its scaffolding slanted outward, like a broken flower petal. Melusine had sneaked to the tip of that spot, trying to close its distance with the Noctiluca. 

Despite it not being her forte, Shana carefully aimed as she prepared to snipe it from a distance. She had climbed too high to jump and board the enemy, and to make matters worse, not only was the wind too intense to accurately shoot, but her footing was terribly unstable. Since she wasn’t used to this kind of sniping, one wrong step could result in the footing snapping under her, or her slipping off and tumbling down. 

But she had to brave this danger and get closer. As risky as it was, if she didn’t, they’d lose and die. 

This world didn’t need humanity. This world and its people were full of malice and cruelty. Kurena had seen it for herself just now, but Shana didn’t need to lose someone dear to her before her eyes to know this. 

The world was cruel. It drove a knife into one’s heart with a sinister grin, as if to say that one would be better off dead. And that was exactly why she refused to die. She could never bring herself to love this world, and so she would never obey its words, either. 

She was trying to shoot Gisela’s rear diagonally from above. She was aiming at the turret’s base, at a gap in its armor from which the wires extended. She was going to snipe from her position on the Mirage Spire, which was already almost out of sight for the Noctiluca, accurately striking a APFSDS shell right into it. 

The wires spilled out, writhing like the entrails of a dying snake. Cyclops sprinted across it, slipping to the back of the turret and unleashing a buckshot at the railgun’s control core. 

“Drop dead, you big motherfucker.” 

Click. 

The 88 mm flew through the air, piercing and penetrating the back of Gisela’s turret. In place of a scream, liquid gushed out. While fixed in place, the stern-side 800 mm railgun seemed to bend backward as fire billowed from it, and at long last, it crumbled in place. 

Meanwhile, on the bow side, Frieda’s conductive wires were severed from their core. The HEAT shell that hit it ignited the conductive wires, causing them to lose control and flop powerlessly to the ground. 

But even with its wires removed, Frieda itself was still very much alive. In order to remove the enemy units that had approached it, it swung its gigantic turret in quick sweeps. 

“I got rid of its self-defense weapon… You handle the rest,” Yuuto said as Verethragna hopped away to the side. 

Its attempt to dodge was futile, however, and Frieda’s barrel caught up with it in no time, knocking the ten-tonne Juggernaut away like a pebble. 

Yuuto’s Para-RAID shut off. 

Without raising his voice in a scream, Yuuto and Verethragna plummeted down to the sea beneath them. And in exchange for that fierce conclusion… 

“—Yeah. Leave it to me, Yuuto. You too, Lerche.” 

Cutting through the flames still hanging over the air, Laughing Fox appeared over Frieda. While Chaika crept along the surface and Verethragna acted as bait, Laughing Fox had used the flames as cover to ascend above Frieda using its wire anchor. 

With both its turret and optical sensors focused downward at the deck, this act of three-dimensional coordination took Frieda by surprise. And now its self-defense armament was eliminated. 

However, Frieda itself—the railgun—hadn’t fired yet. It swiveled its spear-like turret, locking onto Laughing Fox. Tendrils of electricity ran through the barrel with a buzz, and in the next moment, a thundering explosion shook the air. 

Laughing Fox’s optical sensor looked down on it from above, reflecting the 800 mm caliber muzzle glaring at it. Even if it was a giant cannon, it was still a Legion. Its reaction speed was devilishly quick. And in order to destroy the cannon’s control core, he’d have to get to the back of the turret. 

I’ve got no choice. 

A gigantic aperture, large enough for a person to slip inside. Loaded within it was an 800 mm shell primed for firing. Theo locked onto it. 

Click. 

The Reginleif’s smoothbore gun fired, ringing out like it had just hit a metal plate. It may have been a gun turret, but the hole was still 800 mm wide. The pronged spear-like barrel’s gap was just large enough to fit a medium-size shell. 

But right before firing, he’d slightly adjusted his sights. The angle was just a little off. The 88 mm shell traveled halfway through the reverse trajectory the 800 mm shell would. But just as it passed halfway through the barrel, it made contact with the liquid forming the electromagnetic field, tearing through the shell as it pierced into it. 

The fuse triggered and then burst. 

Part of the liquid that formed the electromagnetic field splattered. This was a several-hundred-tonne turret, and even if an 88 mm shell were to blow up inside it, it wouldn’t be destroyed. But if the fluid inside it were to be blown away, it would short the circuits and make the electric current go berserk. And unfortunately for Frieda, the 800 mm shell it had loaded to blow away the insect skittering in front of it had its outer shell’s fuse malfunction and trigger between the rails. 

This served to only intensify the explosion, producing a deafening blast. The shell burst before it could be charged and accelerated with kinetic energy, so it lacked the full power that allowed it to blow away the fortress. But the vast energy that would have unleashed a large amount of shrapnel exploded within Frieda. As sturdy as the rails were, they couldn’t withstand that shock wave. 

Like a large tree split by lightning, the rails bent in opposite directions as the barrel cracked open. The rails meant to propel the railgun’s shells warped into shapes that would no longer allow them to serve that role. 

The railgun perished in an unseemly manner—partially as a product of coincidence. But the result was all the same. 

“Frieda, eliminated.” 

But just as Theo began considering the remaining objectives, a shock wave shook the air. 

“Theo?!” 

A point-blank explosion sent Laughing Fox flying toward the ship’s bow. Seeing this, Shiden, who was sitting atop Gisela’s broken turret, raised her voice in shock. After rolling over twice, Laughing Fox staggered to its feet. Speaking through the Resonance, Theo groaned dizzily. 

“U-ugh… Ah, I’m fine. I’m okay.” 

“God… You’ve been pulling more close calls than usual today…” 

But apparently, with this, they had silenced both the 800 mm railguns. All that remained was to destroy any remaining rapid-fire guns, but as that thought crossed their mind… 

…it was then that they realized that the Noctiluca was beginning to move so its left side faced the damaged Stella Maris. 

The Noctiluca had closed the distance between the ships on its own, and it wouldn’t take long for it to approach and shoot the supercarrier. If they were going to destroy the rapid-fire guns, they’d have to hurry. 

But then Theo realized something and raised his voice tensely. 

“Ah…! Shiden! Round up the Brísingamen squadron and get away from that! It’s—” 

He shouted a hoarse warning through the Resonance. That voice reminded Shiden of a sight she’d nearly forgotten—the visage of the battle with the railgun one year ago. Of how she overlooked the conclusion of the nightmarish battle at dawn, between the Morpho and Undertaker—though she hadn’t known it was him—from atop the Gran Mur. 

And how that battle ended. 

In order to protect confidential information from being taken or perhaps to take down enemy units, the murder machines manifested the madness within them. 

“The Morpho has a self-destruct device inside it!” 

But the warning and recollection both came a moment too late. Without Shin present to confirm that the Legion were completely incapacitated, they didn’t have enough time to react. 

A silent flash, followed by an explosion. The shock waves and light spread out, and with them, Gisela…a thousand-tonne railgun’s worth of shrapnel was sent flying in all directions. 

Lena watched as Gisela self-destructed, with the Brísingamen squadron’s units all above or around it getting caught up in the blast. The shrapnel dug into the Juggernauts, sending them rolling powerlessly off the Noctiluca’s deck. 

“…!” 

She very nearly screamed but was able to stop herself. 

No. Shiden had only just told her to keep it together. Losing her composure now would be a betrayal. 

She could hear Esther shout orders to dispatch rescue boats. 

“Numbers five and seven, get out there. Number twelve, remain on standby after connecting them. Number fifteen, you’re on your last legs; come back for a refuel.” 

The Orphan Fleet’s rescue boats moved across the burning sea nonstop, trying to save as many lives as possible. Lena hung on to the belief that one of them would pick them up. 

Sea rescue was a race against time, and to improve the chances of success even a little, Frederica continually used her ability. But as she spoke between sobs, a voice called to her from the radio. 

“That’s enough, missy. You can stop, really. We’ll look after their injuries. We’ve been given triage training. You don’t have to force yourself!” 

But Frederica still sobbed, shaking her head in stout denial. 

“No, not yet… I still have my responsibilities. There are still those who have fallen and await rescue. I shan’t stand idly by, only to live with regret. I can keep going.” 

“…Yes,” Lena whispered to herself, raising her head. 

We can’t afford to stop yet. The Noctiluca itself is still alive. 

But then something like an alarm bell rang in her mind. 

…It’s not dead? 

In that case, was the railgun dead? Why did they assume that it was? How exactly did they confirm that? How could they confirm it when they had no one who could hear the moment the ghosts’ incessant screams ceased…? 

Something pulled her gaze up. She could see a silver form swirling above the Noctiluca. A kaleidoscope of butterflies, deflecting the light with the silent flapping of their wings. A Legion’s central processor, which had taken the form of mechanical butterflies. 

Liquid Micromachines. 

Likely the ones in charge of Gisela’s fire control. The silvery droplet that had dripped down the Mirage Spire after the Morpho’s destruction… 

I should have realized it back then. 

Just like the Phönix before it, the Noctiluca was a commander unit that was essentially immortal. Destroying its fuselage alone wouldn’t be enough to assume they’d destroyed it entirely. And it was entirely possible the same would apply to the Shepherds they’d face going forward—perhaps even the most common of Legion troops. 

The butterflies fluttered down like snow. Folding their wings, they resembled ominous moonlight as they descended. They were headed for the railgun Theo destroyed. Frieda. They landed on it, coalesced, and slipped into the cracks in its armor. 

The barrel had blown up from the inside, and the rails were bent and split. This railgun should not have been capable of firing. However, Lena felt a burning sense of panic overcome her. 

“All Processors, evacuate Frieda’s line of fire…! Theo, run!” 

As she spoke, she realized it. It was no good; they wouldn’t make it. The time it took her to figure it out was far too long. They should have shot down those butterflies while they were clumped together. The silver splatters the railgun would shed every time they shot it were actually Liquid Micromachines. The barrel’s erosion meant the Liquid Micromachines that produced the electromagnetic field were being depleted. 

Gisela was driven to total destruction, so it wasn’t usable anymore. But with Frieda, the only thing they’d successfully destroyed was the barrel. They deemed the rails in charge of accelerating the shells useless and assumed they’d destroyed it. 

But if all it needed to generate an electromagnetic field were Liquid Micromachines…then it could get plenty of that from its downed consort. 

“It’s going to shoot! The Liquid Micromachines are going to reform the barrel! They’re going to repair Frieda!” 

Countless particles settled over the Noctiluca’s bow side, covering the bent barrel as they were absorbed into Frieda. It took them in within seconds, like dry sand sucking in water. 

Its blue optical sensor lit up. 

Frieda’s thirty-meter barrel, which had lurched down powerlessly, once again swung through the ocean wind and rose to a horizontal position. Its bent rails were like a bull’s horns, like the decoration on an Eastern-style helmet. And from within, silver light filtered out. 

They were the Liquid Micromachines that formed the electromagnetic field. The space they occupied was significantly larger than the aperture originally was, but the silver liquid gushed freely, as if forming a frost crystal. 

The micromachines that formed Gisela’s now-ruined control system were integrated into Frieda, quite literally filling in the cracks. A thundering screech and tendrils of electricity filled the air. The electromagnetic field crackled to life. Thin streaks of electricity danced across every part of Frieda’s metallic body, striking the surrounding deck and ruined cannons. 

It raised its barrel horizontally, then moved its angle diagonally. Its sights were on the Mirage Spire. Specifically, the Juggernauts atop it. 

The 800 mm railgun roared. 

The boom of the 800 mm caused the air to quake, like thunder at close range. The destructive shock waves produced by propelling a massive shell to such high speeds shook the deck. 

Laughing Fox had been knocked to the Noctiluca’s bow side. Theo was able to use his wire anchor to safely land and escape the shock waves. He once again fired the wire, climbing up to the Noctiluca’s deck, where he was given a view of the devastation. 

“…Ah—” 

A rumbling, smashing sound unlike anything he had ever heard filled his ears. The Mirage Spire base took a direct hit at close range from the 800 mm shell and was now creaking, as it was incapable of supporting its own weight. 

Level Carla, in its entirety, had been hit. 

The massive shell moving at high speeds carried with it intense destructive power that mercilessly smashed through the steel tower. The sturdy beams that supported the multistory building snapped and broke, and now the entire structure was letting out a metallic screech. 

There should have still been people in there. 

“Wh-what about Kurena? And the others?!” 

His optical screen displayed fragments of ruined Juggernauts flying through the air and some units trapped within the torn scaffolding. Thankfully, there weren’t too many of them, since they’d already begun evacuating… In fact, even with that considered, very little of them had, in fact, been caught. The others must have been blown off and fell down…or, at worst, were caught directly in the line of fire and completely blown to bits. 

Consort units hurried over to stranded units, tearing open the cockpits to extract their comrades from within. They dragged those who were fortunately still alive into their cockpits and hurriedly evacuated the Spire. 

The Mirage Spire creaked. Unable to support its massive weight, one of the six pillars supporting it crumbled away. Each pillar on its own was the size of a building. It seemed to fall apart slowly at first, but gravity’s pull made its collapse progressively faster. 

As if its nerves or blood vessels were being torn off, steel beams flew out of the tower, otherwise plummeting down and becoming metallic spears. The surviving Juggernauts beneath them sped up, scrambling away to safety. 

Meanwhile, splotches of Liquid Micromachines splattered out of Frieda like blood as it finished firing. Using Liquid Micromachines to fire in place of a barrel was an effort even for the Legion. Much of the liquid that formed the barrel flaked off like shards of broken crystal. 

They scattered off the ship, reflecting the light and trickling into the ocean. Some of the larger bits broke off to assume butterfly form before hitting the water, riding the wind with their paper-thin wings. They then nestled back into the cracks in the barrel, which was even more bent and broken than it was before firing… 

Of course, their numbers were too few to fill up the gaps again, but more Liquid Micromachines seeped out of Frieda, the silver mass coalescing like frost. Frieda was even using the micromachines that controlled it to prepare to fire again. 

This was likely Frieda’s—and the Noctiluca’s—final shot. 

And yet it seemed ready to put everything behind it… 

Another thundering roar. The crackle of electricity was the horrifying proof that the cannon was ready once more. The turret revolved, screeching loudly as if something was in the way of its internal mechanisms. 

“…The Stella Maris.” 

There were no other Juggernauts capable of moving except for his Laughing Fox. Raiden, Anju, Dustin, Yuuto, and Shiden had all fallen. The ones in the Mirage Spire, like Kurena, were trying to reach safety in the base of the tower before the entire structure collapsed all around them. The Stella Maris had one of its propellers damaged and had also been lured to approach the Noctiluca. It couldn’t escape in time. 

And so… 

His mind felt awfully calm and clear as the facts dawned on him. The world had been reduced to little more than himself and the railgun before him. No one but him could break this deadlock. He couldn’t let it sink the Stella Maris. They couldn’t lose that craft. He couldn’t let Lena die. Or Frederica, Vika, Marcel, or the rest of the control crew. 

Ishmael and the other members of the Open Sea clans were still at risk. Until they saw everyone safely back home, their mission was not yet complete. They branded themselves with the shame of returning while sacrificing their comrades to do it. Seeing their task through to the very end was their final fact of pride and duty. 

But most importantly, the Stella Maris was their way back home. Everyone here had to return home. 

And so did he. 

“…I have to go home.” 

Even if he had no place he could call home, he would find it. Even if that meant making one for himself. 

The crumbling tower was plummeting toward the ocean just as the Noctiluca brushed past it. And as it fell, the majority of its massive weight was above him and the Noctiluca. 

Despite how heavily he’d overused them, Theo’s wire anchors were made sturdily to support high-mobility combat. Laughing Fox fired its left anchor above it, coiling it around one of the Noctiluca’s beams. The collapsing tower was by now almost perpendicular to the sea. As it fired the anchor, Laughing Fox jumped. Reeling up his wire, Theo moved faster than his leg strength afforded him, swinging up to the railgun’s top. 

Yes, the world was cruel. Cruel, malicious, and absurd. People with noble reasons to live perished, and others survived, none the wiser. This was the way of the world, no matter how badly some wished it wasn’t. And so those who survived had a duty to live on. 

For the ones who passed away…the ones who were gone and out of reach…he would remember them. 

He refused to live his life shamefully. He couldn’t disgrace the memories of the dead. So he had to be happy. Even if he was all alone, even if he still dreaded thinking of the future, he had to. 

Captain. 

Please. Never forgive me. 

He said that, not wishing to curse his own death. Even at his last moment, he cared for others. He lived nobly, to the very end. 

But I still need that curse. I can’t yet live without your curse to haunt me. I have to atone for your death with my way of life. You died without anyone to avenge or honor you, and I’m the only survivor who knows it. 

I have to live happily. Because if I don’t, you really will have died for nothing. 

That’s my reason. 

Captain… What you did was so stupid. Ask anyone in the world, and they’ll all call you an idiot. But…no matter what anyone says, you were absolutely in the right. 

So I have to prove it to this world that’s calling you foolish… And to do that, I have to survive. Even if I have nothing… Even if I lose it all, I…I have to find happiness. I’ll inherit the curse of living a happy life…in your place. 

His objective was the railgun’s rear, the control core under the armor. Shiden’s attack showed him the spot—one of the few weak points that could silence the railgun with a single shot. Laughing Fox soared through the air, drawing an arc as he aimed directly at that spot. 

Here it is. 

His target was right beneath him. Flipping his unit in midair, he aimed his turret directly down. He reflexively let out his bated breath in one short, sharp puff. Just a little longer until his sights were aligned…! 

But Juggernauts couldn’t fly. At most, they could move acrobatically through the air. An awfully easy trajectory to predict. From the corner of his eye, he could see the last remaining rapid-fire gun turn to aim at him. He didn’t have to dodge. His sights aligned, and he began squeezing the trigger… 

He didn’t know the aiming procedure for a warship’s gun, so he only relayed the information as he heard it. 

“A hundred twenty meters from the bow, right above the waterline—” 

Had he hit the ground, there was no way he would have survived. The Reginleif’s high-fidelity buffering system made every attempt to protect the pilot, but his injuries were still severe enough that the military physician would strictly order him to rest and recover. 

Despite this, he knew he was needed, so he interrupted the treatment and came up to the integrated bridge. He was still alive. His comrades were still out there fighting. And there were still things he could do. Knowing all that, he couldn’t rest. 

Vika loaned him a shoulder, muttering with a sardonic smile that he did all that analyzing for nothing. Looking around, he looked to Ishmael, who instructed the fire-control officers to adjust their sights according to his instructions. 

For now, he looked away from those wide, frozen eyes gazing at him… With just that, he spoke through labored breaths, instructing them to that position. 

“That’s where the control core is. That’s where the most voices are gathered… Aim there!” 

The flight deck of the supercarrier, the Stella Maris. Four 40 cm guns began swiveling noisily. The deck was filled with the winds and rain of the storm, as well as the soot and marks of this battle. Even in its final voyage, the queen of warships wore her scars with pride, standing tall and proud. 

With the preparations complete on the deck, the catapult personnel evacuated to the bridge after correcting their sights as instructed and looked up at the cannons with a flood of emotions. This was likely the last shot the Stella Maris’s main turret would ever fire. The fact that they needed the help of someone who wasn’t part of the Orphan Fleet, or even part of the Fleet Countries, was something that they—while thankful for—couldn’t help but resent. 

“Fire!” 

The guns fired, unleashing a massive explosion that released trembling shock waves. All the ship’s remaining ammunition was expelled into the air, leaving only a shroud of gun smoke…and silence. Eternal silence. 

The next moment— 

“You must be happy, Stella Maris,” one of the catapult personnel whispered. “Our final, fleeting great mother. In your last battle, you got to fire your anti-leviathan gun.” 

They had received their orders to shoot from their great, pseudo-brother, Ishmael. 

“Keep your sights as they are. Anti-leviathan gun, fire!” 

A long steam catapult covered the runway. Raising a trail of white steam, its shuttle was awaiting the moment of its triggering, which soon came. 

The intense power produced by two nuclear reactors kicked the shuttle into the air. Aircraft carriers were capable of propelling thirty-tonne fighter planes into takeoff speed. This supercarrier’s catapult drew on that history. 

However, the shuttle, which would normally tow airplanes, instead dragged a long, thick chain. On its other hand was the Stella Maris’s bulky, fifteen-tonne anchor. The shuttle pulled it, propelling it across the flight deck’s ninety-meter-long runway within less than a second. 

The catapult drew its name from a siege weapon that used tension or spring screws to fire spherical masses. The catapult in use now was an auxiliary device meant to help launch planes, and it was technically closer to a ballista. 

The shuttle reached the end of the runway, then stopped in place with a loud thud. The wire floated up with its full momentum, unleashing the anchor at the peak of its curve. Granted a speed of three hundred kilometers per hour, the massive, fifteen-tonne anchor was launched like a gigantic arrowhead. 

The anti-leviathan gun. The supercarrier’s final weapon for dispatching a Musukura, even in a case where it had completely depleted its ammunition. 

The anchor soared through the air, following the 40 cm cannon shells weighing one tonne. The projectile was flung using a primitive, rough firing method, not unlike the ballista. It stood in stark contrast to the cutting-edge futuristic railgun, which no human country was able to implement in actual battle. And in the blink of an eye, their projected trajectories intersected. 

He thought he heard the roar of a cannon in the distance. But that couldn’t be. The shot’s sound traveled slower than the shell itself. Modern warfare employed long-distance weapons that fired shells at faster than the speed of sound. A cannon’s roar could never reach the human ear sooner than the shell hit its target. 

But as if urged by the sound of that cannon shot, Theo pulled the trigger. The 15 mm rapid-fire gun’s shot was fired at that same moment, but its blast didn’t reach his ears. The 88 mm APFSDS shell dropped from directly above it pierced into Frieda’s control core. 

Despite knowing that it could not have been possible, Theo thought he could hear the mechanical ghost scream its last. 

Bombarded from above, Frieda’s barrel seemed to bend backward, as if it had been split in half along its control core. The electromagnetic force concentrated in the barrel was left without a place to go, flowing backward through its circuits. Tendrils of lightning spurted from the railgun’s body like blood as it crumbled. The self-destruct system triggered the next second. 

The 800 mm shell it fired was launched in a random direction, falling harmlessly into the sea. The next moment, the Stella Maris’s bombardment struck the Noctiluca. And then there was another impact. 

As sturdy as the Noctiluca’s armor was, the Stella Maris closed the distance to it. On top of it, the Noctiluca had approached the supercarrier of its own accord earlier. It had effectively discarded the shield the distance had afforded it by curbing the shells’ velocity. 

A rapid barrage of 40 cm shells hit one point on the ship’s broadside with lethal accuracy in quick succession. After several bursts, one of them finally penetrated the armor. The shells that followed penetrated the armor’s interior, where they burst. 

The explosion from within the armor module finally punched a large hole into the Noctiluca’s broadside. And then a gigantic, anachronistic arrowhead flew through the hole, penetrating its heart as if to ensure the kill. 

A massive spurt of Liquid Micromachines burst out like blood splatter. 

A rumbling roar… Theo could hear, through the Resonance, the Noctiluca’s howl. It was a wail of anger. Or perhaps hatred. 

The gigantic steel vessel lurched sideways, as if losing to the projectiles’ impacts. It churned the sea like a tsunami as it sank under the waves. Directing a final, spiteful glare at the supercarrier as it did. 

And so the hundred-thousand-tonne massive battleship disappeared beneath the waves. All too quickly. 

Still connected to the Resonance, Lena could hear that the Noctiluca’s wailing hadn’t died out yet. She squinted severely. It was still alive. It hadn’t been sunk. It dived underwater. This whole battle began when the Noctiluca surfaced from under the sea, after all. So while it may not be capable of fighting underwater, they could probably presume it was capable of underwater navigation. 

They didn’t close enough distance. Most of their remaining ammunition was wasted on destroying the armor. They didn’t have enough left to destroy the control core. 

The Noctiluca’s howl grew distant as it retreated, like a wounded fish swimming away. Hearing this, Lena turned to face Ishmael. 

“Captain, we need to give chase. The Noctiluca isn’t dead ye—” 

But just as she said that, Lena was suddenly rendered speechless, as if her tongue had stuck to the roof of her mouth. She stood frozen in place, her thoughts grinding to a screeching halt. 

The holo-screen that displayed the outside view…was completely covered by gigantic eyeballs, looking down on them. One at its center. Two more on its sides. Each eyeball was larger than a human adult. They were so large that even as predator locked eyes with prey, it didn’t feel like they were indeed gazing at each other. 

It was like a grim reminder of just how diminutive and brittle humans were as a species. 

Its pupils were black and surrounded by irises, and while it had no eyelids, the whites of its eyes were nearly indiscernible. Its slightly transparent pupils revealed that the structure of its eyes wasn’t fundamentally different than a human’s, though. 

However, its pupils weren’t round but had an angular diamond shape. Its irises had an almost metallic sort of rainbow gleam to them, like the feathers of a peacock. Perhaps the result of some sort of oil film reflecting the light. 

An utterly alien, inhuman eye. 

Several dozen kilometers away from the Mirage Spire, where the ocean had changed color, was the interstice that demarcated humankind’s territory from what lay beyond. But this creature didn’t stand there. No. A single leviathan had crossed that boundary and now floated right in front of the Stella Maris. 

It had a long, winding neck and a sharp, elongated head. Every inch of it was covered in scales, but the texture of those scales was visibly and indescribably strange. A layer of scales with the dim glow of armor, the sharpness of a knife, and the transparency of crystal covered a layer of other scales, as soft and transparent as a jellyfish’s body. Dorsal-finlike organs shaped like crystal formations extended along its back, from the top of its head to the end of its tail. 

Its hard scales and the sharpness of its jaws granted it a somehow reptilian appearance, but its soft, almost squishy silhouette resembled that of a mollusk-like sea slug creature. 

Its full length was an estimated three hundred thirty meters. The largest species of a leviathan, a three-hundred-meter class specimen—a Musukura—was upon them. 

One of the open sea’s sovereigns gazed down at the Stella Maris, serenely but arrogantly. And somehow, they could tell. It was keenly aware of the tiny, land-dwelling mammals writhing within the vessel. Its lidless eyes unblinkingly gazed at Lena and the others inside the ship. 

Faced with this damaged, creaking human vessel, it regarded them with eyes utterly different from both the eyes of humans and the gaze of the man-made mechanical monsters. An almost alien sort of glare that communicated nothing. 

If there was a god, it would likely look upon the world with that sort of gaze. 

Before their very eyes, the Musukura suddenly opened it mouth, revealing a shining, crystal-like protrusion. Some part of Lena’s paralyzed mind barely realized that this was the organ that had fired off that laser that scorched the sky earlier. 

And then the Musukura howled. 

Its howl was a high-frequency screech that made the Stella Maris’s hull shiver. It hit them at a frequency just barely audible to the human ear. It was less of a sound and more of a shock wave. 

It said nothing. The leviathans weren’t capable of human speech, and it was unknown if they had a form of language that they used among themselves. But even without words, the warning in its voice was clear. 

Lena’s body and mind were frozen with instinctual, primal terror. Humans were a race of powerless creatures that crawled along the earth. They had no business facing such a force of nature, an absolute tyrant of the natural world. Just one of them was all it took to completely break through the murder machines that human knowledge had produced. 

Closing its mouth with the same suddenness with which it had opened it, the Musukura turned around. This truly gigantic creature moved with a confidence and pride that showed it feared no one and saw nothing as worthy of its unbelievable length of over three hundred meters. Its head sank beneath the waves up to its snout, but until it swam into the horizon and completely disappeared, not a single human in the area was capable of moving. 

Shrinking in place and breathing as little as possible, they passed the time like small animals waiting for a storm to pass. The first to breathe out and start moving was Shin…though it wasn’t a voluntary movement. He’d turned down medical treatment to come to the bridge, and it appeared that this effort had finally pushed him over the limit. He crumpled to the floor. 

“Shin?!” Lena hurried over to him. 

Vika, who had loaned him a shoulder, knelt down to help him but didn’t approach him anymore. 

“My God, man… This is why I told you not to push yourself…!” 

“Your return left me without a task, so I brought you along like you asked…,” Vika said. “But it’s all right now. Go back and let the doctors take care of you. Marcel, lend us a hand.” 

“Yeah, I will. Once the fighting’s over. Hang in there a little longer.” 

He looked away from Lena, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. Ignoring Vika’s sigh and Marcel, who looked up at the ceiling, Shin properly fixed his RAID Device. It had been removed from him during the treatment, and he’d only crudely put it on along the way here. 

Of course, the targets he was Resonating with were… 

“Kurena, Theo. I’m sorry I made you worry. The rest are still being retrieved, so I haven’t checked yet, but—” 

He could hear Kurena take a long, sharp breath. She then let it out in one long gasp, as if holding back tears. 

“………! Shin…!” 

“Um, they picked me up, too. I’m still alive, for what it’s worth.” Raiden’s voice joined the Resonance from the operation room or a hospital room. “Anju and Dustin got picked up together.” 

The only one who said nothing was Theo. Wiping her tears away, Lena spoke. 

“Thank you, Theo. You saved us. If you hadn’t destroyed the railgun, we’d have all been done for.” 

Still, no reply. But just as Shin became suspicious, finally… 

“That’s…great, Lena. Shin, Raiden, you too… Thank God… Thank God you’re…safe.” 

His voice was off. Like he was stifling something. Like he was enduring something…like pain. 

“…Theo?” 

Shin’s voice unintentionally tensed up. He’s injured. Shin felt the tension wring his throat. Theo’s voice just now. It was subdued, strained, and unnaturally, frighteningly calm. Something in his tone felt almost…resigned. 

He wasn’t just bearing the pain of an injury. 

Shin spat out the question, as if coughing it out. 

“Are you hurt…? If you can’t come back on your own, we can—” 

Theo cut him off. He probably didn’t have much longer to talk. The stimulus was so intense that his senses went numb, and now he couldn’t feel anything. But once his senses returned, he likely wouldn’t be able to speak. 

“Yeah… Sorry.” 

The 155 mm shell fired the same time he did, at the very last moment. It was a buckshot. Maybe it didn’t have time to properly set up the fuse, but it passed by Laughing Fox’s flank and then self-destructed. It wasn’t a direct hit. It only burst and scattered, and most of the fragments hit the cannon’s rear. 

Except… 

Sitting on the ruins of the Denebola, the long-distance cruiser that had stalled the Noctiluca, was Laughing Fox. Sitting inside its cockpit, Theo looked at his injury. One normally wouldn’t be able to see anything in the interior of the dark cockpit, but Laughing Fox was damaged, exposing its cockpit block. 

The shell fragments that rushed it from behind tore cleanly through both of the unit’s left legs, the armor frame, and some of the cockpit. 

From within that gaping hole in the Juggernaut’s frame, Theo could see the color blue. The cerulean skies. The ultramarine sea. Despite its ruined state, the long-distance cruiser’s deck was still high above sea level, so he had an unimpeded view of the sea to the distance—to the open sea’s blue waters, the very color that one naturally associated with the ocean. 

Above the water’s level was a place no one could live. No human, animal, bird, or insect could survive despite the clear air. With the storm gone, the sky was bright and free of clouds—a vast azure expanse. The horizon stood as if dividing the sky and the ocean. Below it were the waters of the open sea, and above it was the sun, its light glittering along the edges of the waves, granting the ocean a sparkling glow. 

It felt like one of them was a mirror of the other. Perhaps they were both mirrors, imposed against each other. Their respective shades of blue spanned as far as the eye could see; both were alight, and they each contained in their womb a vast blackness that would remain forever impenetrable. 

The blue was only the thin veneer hanging over everlasting darkness. The surface layer of a bottomless abyss. 

So why, oh why, was it so painfully, breathtakingly beautiful…? 

Theo never did like the battlefield. He never liked fighting. In the Eighty-Sixth Sector, he was forced to fight as a drone’s component and ordered to go to his death at the very end. Theo resented it to this very moment. 

He never wanted to fight; this was simply the only path that had ever been put before him. The only way to survive, to hold on to his pride. 

And despite that… 

Why …? 

…tears spilled from his eyes. 

“I can’t…fight with you anymore.” 

The shell’s fragments had peppered him from behind, ripping through the sturdy cockpit with intense force. Most of the fragments and their impact hit the cannon’s rear. But the shock wave did penetrate it, shredding the interior and its parts, scattering them into the open air. 

And one of them passed through his now-missing left hand…tearing it between the elbow and the wrist.