86-EIGHTY-SIX, Vol. 5
86-EIGHTY-SIX, Vol. 5
86—EIGHTY-SIX
Vol. 5
ASATO ASATO
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is
coincidental.
86—Eighty-Six—Ep. 5
©Asato Asato 2018
Edited by Dengeki Bunko
First published in Japan in 2018 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION,
Tokyo, through TUTTLE-MORI AGENCY, INC., Tokyo.
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of
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May even death not do us part.
Arcs Styrie, capital of the United Kingdom of Roa Gracia for the past
millennium. At its northernmost tip sat the royal palace, its throne room
currently dim, as if to symbolize the absence of the sun’s blessing upon this
northern land.
However, contrary to the impression the term northern land may give to
some, Roa Gracia was an affluent nation. Though its climate was ill-suited
for cultivating grain or fruit common in the south, its lands were fertile, were
graced with large rivers, and possessed rich mineral veins. A chandelier
crafted from such minerals—gold and diamonds—cast a brilliant glow on the
resplendent decor of the throne room. The light accentuated the shadows of
the princes and princesses present.
The United Kingdom was a militaristic country, and as such, all members
of the aristocracy were men and women of war. At the same time, this
country was the last remaining despotic monarchy on the continent. It was a
nation that still adhered to its archaic system of values.
The very personification of those beliefs, the king, began to speak from
his throne. He wore a crisp military uniform, and his whitening reddish-
brown hair and amethyst eyes marked him as a Viola, the race that had lived
in the Kingdom since antiquity, as well as an Amethysta, one of noble birth.
When he opened the door, he was greeted by the faintly medicinal scent of
mixed black tea and his older brother’s smile.
“Welcome home, Vika… Though you returned to the castle the night
prior, no?”
“Ah, Brother Zafar. Yes, I arrived late, so I didn’t have time to greet you.”
MELANCHOLY OF MONSTERS
Rito Oriya had joined the Spearhead squadron only last spring—two years
after he had become a Processor. The first ward’s first defensive line was the
final disposal site where Processors who had survived too long were sent.
They were sent there to die in battle. Usually, only Processors in their fourth
or fifth years of service were dispatched there, so Rito’s appointment after a
mere two years of service had come relatively early… Or rather, it had been
early until then.
The Republic had believed the war with the Legion would end after ten
years. The Legion’s life spans should have ended at that point in time. Rito
and the other Eighty-Six had known that wouldn’t be the case, but the white
pigs had known nothing of the battlefield and wanted to quickly get rid of the
livestock they’d kept for the war.
He would never forget the day the large-scale offensive had started.
Run, ya brats! I don’t care if ya hide inside the walls or wherever else—
just get out of here and survive!
Spurred on by the angry bellowing of the base’s senior chief of
maintenance, Rito and the other twenty-two surviving Processors had
boarded their faithful partners—the Juggernauts—and headed south. That
was just as the warning regarding the Gran Mur’s fall blared out. Just after a
A deafening howl, like a beast that had had its throat crushed, echoed loudly
from the other side of the window. It was the sound of the high-speed train
running along the track that reverberated through the tight pitch-black tunnel.
It echoed, dredging up a particularly foul mood in Shin and making him
recall things he would have preferred remain buried. As he was forced to play
audience to the incessant continuo alternating between a high pitch and a low
one, Shin traced back memories that teetered on the edge of oblivion.
They were on the western intercountry high-speed railway, namely on the
Eaglefrost route, currently passing through the Dragon Corpse tunnel. A line
that once connected the former Empire of Giad and the United Kingdom had
been partially reinstated and recently opened for military use. The Dragon
Corpse tunnel had been built along this line, making it the longest railway
tunnel in the world.
The Legion made use of everything they could find in the land they stole
from humankind to benefit their operations, but the same held true for
humankind. The Legion had maintained the old high-speed railway lines to
allow for the Morpho’s movement, and now that the Highway Corridor had
been retaken and was back in human hands, they’d begun restoring it for
military use.
The officers’ passenger car consisted of rows of box seats opposite each
other on both sides. Those sitting in them were mostly dressed in the steel-
blue colors of the Federacy’s military, but some Eighty-Six soldiers were
there, too, adding other hues into the mix.
Shin’s eyes narrowed, and a small sigh escaped his lips as he turned his
No.
It’s more than that.
At the time, his crimson gaze had held a mixture of indignation and
confusion—and behind it was the wavering light of a wounded child. She
was sure of it. As if he’d been struck by someone he’d never imagined would
lash out at him. As if he’d never expected Lena to say that to him.
Fighting to the bitter end and moving on to their final destination was the
Eighty-Six’s pride and freedom. Lena had heard it before. From them. And to
live up to those words, they stepped back into the fray even after they’d been
rescued by the Federacy. So to tell them that they were still trapped…that
they were still in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, that they hadn’t moved a single
step forward from where they once were, was an insult beyond description.
Under the pretense of grief, she’d trampled over the only sense of pride
they were allowed to have.
She didn’t want to think she might have been the one to hurt them this
way… And the moment she had, Lena had been assailed by a self-hatred that
felt like drowning in a sea of flames. In other words, she’d been the one
avoiding Shin. Running from the fact that she’d insulted him… From the fact
that she’d hurt him.
“…Colonel?”
It had been the same two years ago. She’d thought she was standing by
their side, that she understood them. But the truth was she hadn’t really tried
to learn anything about them, not even their names. She’d just one-sidedly
forced her feelings and impressions on them and, in so doing, hurt them.
The prince made his way over to them, accompanied by the sound of his
military boots clicking against the agate floor and the gentle rustling of his
clothes. His outfit gave off the scent of southern frankincense. Lena caught
herself starting at him, forgoing all notions of manners and etiquette. His
beautiful facial features stood in contrast to how naturally his uniform gave
off a sense of overpowering, solemn dignity.
“So His Majesty the prince himself really came to greet us.”
The prince raised his brows in an exaggerated fashion.
“You already have a grasp on our weakness, I believe… The United
Kingdom was where the Mariana Model, which went on to become the basis
of the Legion, was developed. Even if the war were to end, the other
countries would no doubt regard us with disdain.”
“…”
There was no direct causality between the development of the Mariana
Model and the war with the Legion, but things would likely play out as the
prince said. When calamity strikes, people tend to look for a cause. Even if it
requires a great leap, or rather lapse, in logic, they seek to pin the blame for
the wrongs done to them on someone else.
No one in attendance could blame Lena for taking a frightened step back.
“What…?!”
Frederica’s large eyes widened in shock, and Raiden and Shiden leaned
forward from the wall they’d been standing against. Even Shin, who wasn’t
Lerche’s detached head was connected to her torso with tubes and cords that
looked like blood vessels and nerves.
“Is she…human?”
Vika snickered wryly.
“You ask that question after seeing what you’ve just seen, Bloody Reina?
Recall what Nouzen just said. And consider…how did he so easily see her for
what she is?”
Lena swallowed nervously. Shin could hear the voices of the Legion—or
rather, the voices of the war dead who remained trapped mechanical ghosts.
But the girl in front of them couldn’t be a Legion, since they never fashioned
weapons in human form. They were forbidden from making a weapon that
looked too similar to a human being.
In which case…
Shin spoke, as if to not let Lena voice her conclusion.
“It uses a dead person’s brain…or rather, a reproduction of one, as its
central processor.”
His bloodred eyes glared at Vika with an intensity Lena had never seen
In one corner of the castle of the country that held the entire northeast under
its thumb sat an Imperial villa. It was being used as a lodging house, and its
rooms were pleasant, luxurious, and beautiful.
As she lay on a bed and compared the plumage inside it to the shabby
ones she’d had back at the frontline bases and the internment camp in the
Eighty-Sixth Sector, Shiden pondered how far they had come. While she
couldn’t say this bed was uncomfortable or something she couldn’t get used
to, she got the feeling sleeping on it too long would make her go blunt. In
both mind and body.
Slapping her palms over sheets that smelled of flowers or some other
herbal scent, the Brísingamen squadron’s vice captain, Shana, leaned over
Shiden, who lay faceup on the bed.
“Hey, Shiden.”
Not bothering to turn her gaze toward Shana, Shiden gave a noncommittal
response.
“Mm.”
“Is it all right?”
“Yeah…”
She didn’t specify what “it” was, but they’d been together long enough for
Shiden to understand even without any explicit statements. The shock was
probably too much. Ever since she’d met the prince that afternoon, Lena had
been crestfallen, and Shin, who had walked up to her when he saw her
sunken into the lodging house’s sofa and lying still, would be by her side
right about now.
“Not much we can do. Her Majesty made her choice.”
“But…”
Shiden fixed her two-colored eyes on the window located right above her.
“There’d be more to think about if the Li’l Reaper was more of a jackass.
But all things considered, it’s fine, I guess.”
She’d checked only briefly that he was all right, but that was all. It was in
no way an acknowledgment.
“…No one can tell when everything will end. Same as always, really. In
“—It is ever so dreadfully cold here… But the city flourishes! More so than
one might expect of a capital in wartime, I daresay.”
The United Kingdom’s capital of Arcs Styrie was an old city with a
history as storied as that of the country itself. The townscape told of
prosperity, development, and the countless disturbances and upheavals in its
past, with a peculiar view of many buildings, each built at different times
across multiple centuries. The trend was that the exteriors were painted in
bright colors, in a manner typical of a land under the cover of snow for half
of every year.
Today, too, the Eintagsfliege’s clouds hid away the sun, and light snow
flitted down from the heavens. The main thoroughfare was full of passersby,
with colorful shops and stands making up the market. Wearing a Federacy
coat over her Republic uniform, Lena looked around at the lively town with
her eyes wide. Annette, also in a coat, as well as Grethe, Frederica, and
Raiden, who’d come as their escort, looked around curiously, too.
That day after breakfast, the chief of the technology division—a man so
thin he was almost skeletal—had proposed that since they had some free
time, they should go out and see the capital, pointing out that the ladies
would also get a chance to shop that way. Half of the offer stemmed from
consideration, and the other was meant to uplift diplomatic relations.
And indeed, they wanted to show off the abundance and prosperity of
their country to the first field officers visiting from abroad in over a decade—
and in so doing also casually stress the strength of their army.
Shiden and Shana had passed on the opportunity, while Shin had
seemingly been called upon by Vika, so they’d stayed behind in the palace.
The royal guards had invited Shiden’s group to take a tour of the military
museum instead.
“Amazing… I guess that’s what one might expect from the thousand-year
capital of the mighty country of the north, Roa Gracia…”
“I think we needed a break, so that officer’s offer came at just the right
time. That technology really is a bit hard to swallow.”
Shin was told to come with his coat on, and rightly so, as the underground
staircase Vika led him down was extremely cold.
“The northernmost mountains in the United Kingdom are the Frost Woe
mountain range. There’s an ice grotto there extending all the way to the
Kingdom’s underground, where the royal mausoleum was built. The ice here
never melts, so it’s frigid even in the summer… It’s a huge mess if one of the
servants’ children sneaks in here carelessly.”
The staircase itself, which seemed to be carved out of glacial stone, drew
a gentle spiral as it descended deep underground. The place was inlaid with
great-green-turban shells shining in the seven prismatic colors.
The Federacy military’s issued trench coat was made for fighting in the
frozen trenches of the Federacy’s snowy north and was both waterproof and
protective against the cold. Still, Shin furrowed his brow as the cold stabbed
The United Kingdom’s southern front’s Revich Observation Base. The very
picture of an impregnable fortress. Built atop rocky mountains, it was
surrounded on all sides by precipitous cliffs with elevations ranging from a
hundred meters at the lowest to three hundred meters at the highest, with
diamond-shaped peaks to the north and south. The characteristically snow-
white rock surface was now transparent and sharp, with the snow and sleet
covering the incline making it thicker, and near the peak of the rock walls
were palisades made of layers of reinforced concrete and armored boards.
Another hundred meters away from the northern peak was another large
mountain, which served as the fulcrum of a thick, reinforced canopy dome
carved out of the rock face covering the peak, like a swan spreading its
wings.
The only gate into the base and the road leading up to it was on an incline
to the northwest, built over a winding, meandering steep slope filled with
twists and turns. Overlooking the ascending road in the shape of an animal’s
entrails were the multiple menacing muzzles of gun turrets.
“It was originally one of our border fortresses, but right now we’re using
it as an impact-observation position.”
There were holes dotting the canopy covering the summit, which stood
They climbed the stairway leading up to the observation tower’s third floor,
which, for some reason, was a narrow spiral staircase, and after crossing three
“—Oh, Shin. Raiden and Frederica, too. You were transported today. Saying
‘welcome back’ sounds…a little off, but still, it’s been a while.”
Theo waved at them from where he sat at the corner of one of the long
When Vika came out, he saw Lena and drooped his shoulders.
“It’s almost time for lights-out… Visiting a man’s room this late at night
leaves you a bit too vulnerable, Milizé. You should have Nouzen at your side
when you’re out and about like this.”
“I have something to ask you… Something I don’t want others,
The anteroom Lena entered, as well as the rest of the underground base, was
built to be soundproof, meaning no voices could get in or out. Yet, despite
this…
The Processors had been appointed a section in the base’s residential block.
Given that space underground was limited, the rooms were meant for four
people each. Shin was sitting on the top bunk of his bed, his eyes fixed on the
novel he was reading, when he suddenly lifted his head at the sound of a
voice from afar.
It was different from the Legion’s cries. A distant voice from
somewhere…
“…Did you just hear someone scream?”
Somehow, he felt as if it was Lena’s voice. Having been asked, Raiden
peeked out from the lower bunk and shook his head.
“…No?”
After a while, Lena left the anteroom with her face bright red and her uniform
in disarray. If Vika hadn’t been the prince, she’d probably have slapped him
across the cheek. Vika seemed to have been aware of that fact, but he spoke
with a smile charged with noticeably false cheerfulness.
“I’m glad I could be of service, Your Majesty.”
“………!”
Whoa, thank God Shin isn’t here right now. So Shiden thought to herself
as Lena glared daggers at the prince. Pushing the Cicada into Vika’s extended
hands, she turned on her heels in indignation.
“I’m leaving, Vika.”
“Yes, good night.”
Lena walked down the hallway, her embarrassment and anger audible in her
footsteps, but as the indignant annoyance subsided, she was instead flooded
with lingering regret and self-loathing.
Are you implying…that he’s a pitiful Eighty-Six who’s been irreparably
broken by war and rendered incapable of proper judgment?
Again. I did it again.
The Revich Citadel Base’s eighth hangar. The Strike Package and the United
Kingdom’s personnel stood in a well-organized formation in the largest
hangar in the base, built in the lowest underground sector. A group of
Juggernauts waited on standby in the shadow of the catwalks.
“—I believe this is my first time meeting most of the Federacy’s soldiers.
I am Viktor Idinarohk, commander of the United Kingdom’s southern front
forces. Ranks are pointless, so you don’t need to remember mine. It’ll change
before long anyway. I won’t be in direct command of you, but, well, you can
think of me as one of your superior officers.”
The odd atmosphere that fell over the Eighty-Six was likely a question
along the lines of Who is this? Several of their gazes traveled between Vika
and Lena, who stood silently beside the projected operation map. The deputy
director of the United Kingdom military narrowed his eyes in displeasure, as
if feeling the whole thing was disrespectful, but Vika simply sneaked a look
in Lena’s direction and shrugged.
This boy truly was both a member of this northern country’s royal family
and the commander of its southern front. Even when faced with over a
thousand members of personnel, he didn’t lose his composure. Incidentally,
Vika was also the supervising commander for the Sirins, and while he was
“In other words, we rush through the gap in the Legion after they take the bait,
somehow beat the enemy, steal their ant queen, and then come back… Seriously, looks
like any country we go to, everyone comes up with fucked-up ideas.”
Unlike the Eighty-Sixth Sector, where most of the time they’d dealt with
interceptions, an invasion operation required significant preparations. Since
they would need to deceive the enemy into thinking the Dragon Fang
Mountain capture operation was an all-out attack, they would need to create
the impression they were scouting ahead to get a handle on the enemy’s
firepower. As Theo grumbled, Shin, who was concentrated on that task, lifted
his gaze.
The Spearhead squadron marched through a snowy conifer forest,
weaving between the trees in a tight wedge formation. Theo’s statement was
not made to the whole squadron but was transmitted via Para-RAID to only
Shin, Raiden, Kurena, and Anju.
Since the United Kingdom’s front lines were in a mountainous region,
both their military and the Legion held their positions between opposing
mountains, with the valleys and plains between them serving as the contested
zone. This area was no exception, and the Eighty-Six were currently
advancing down a path that was different from the one they would take
during the operation three days from now. They’d descended down gentle
slopes earlier and were currently scaling up a sudden precarious cliff face.
A short time ago, the Spearhead squadron had received a scheduled message
from Lerche, who was Resonated with the Alkonost recon unit. When
connected to her, a dead person, the Resonance filled with a coldness that
wasn’t there for a normal human being. Perhaps this was part of the reason
the Eighty-Six felt disgusted by the Sirins, because Kurena and the other
squad mates were silent as Shin answered her.
Thirty kilometers from the front lines, in the Legion’s territories. In a snowy
field sitting within a forest clearing, the Legion unit drove the multiple plow-
like shock absorbers attached to its legs into the ground and took aim.
Locking all of its joints, it fixed its body to the ground and deployed the rails
on its back, which stretched forward. The tips of these massive rails, which
extended as long as ninety meters, aimed north, to the United Kingdom’s
front lines.
Ameise units that lay in wait climbed onto the rails. Instead of their 7.62
mm all-purpose machine guns, they had 14 mm machine guns meant for
engaging lightly armored units. Clinging to the rails, their legs attached to a
shuttle that resembled a starting block, they crouched down as if bracing
themselves. Purple lightning ran through the rails, like the slithering of a
snake.
These rail-bearing Legion were, like the Skorpion and Stachelschwein
units, a type that didn’t appear on the front lines. But unlike those artillery
types, they were special support units humankind had yet to counter.
And the development code given to these support types by Zelene
Birkenbaum while they were being developed in the Imperial military
laboratory was the Electromagnetic Launcher type—Zentaur.
Detaching their gliders as they approached the ground, the Legion spread
their legs and landed. The Ameise touched down on six legs while the self-
propelled mines used their four limbs like animals as they spilled out of their
capsules, which had cracked open upon being detached.
Snow sprayed about, and the ground rumbled as they spread out in the
gaps between the trees. The Ameise, which were in charge of scouting,
turned their composite sensors about when…
“—Fire.”
The moment Shin gave his order, the Juggernauts lying in ambush rose up
and fired the machine guns equipped to their grappling arms. The Ameise and
self-propelled mines were types meant for antipersonnel combat, and their
armor was light—therefore thin—which allowed them to be easily loaded
onto the catapults. The barrage of heavy machine-gun fire, capable of
shredding an automobile’s engine to bits, reduced them to swiss cheese
before their enemy-encounter alarm could go off.
Confirming that the ghosts’ wails had all died out, Shin turned his
attention to the next predicted Legion landing point. Unlike the Skorpion
types’ bombardment, which drew a parabolic curve, gliding allowed the
Legion to control their trajectory and change their landing spots, making
them harder to predict, but with this forest being the battlefield, the situation
was different. Landing required a certain amount of open space, and this
thick conifer forest, with its trees being hundreds of years old, didn’t have too
many positions large enough to accommodate that. And so Shin, who could
“By your will, my lord,” Lerche replied, seated within the cockpit of her
Alkonost.
Identifier: Chaika. The faint monochrome light of the optical screen
reflected in her unblinking green eyes. Those artificial eyes, which Vika had
worked painstakingly hard on to make indistinguishable from a human’s.
Their structure and function, however, were no different from a Feldreß’s
optical sensor. As were the ears she received her master’s orders with…
Though her senses of taste, smell, touch, and pain were nonexistent.
In the end, we are but clockwork forged in the shape of man. We are not
human.
“Sirin Unit 1, Lerche—moving out!”
The Legion that evaded the interception and managed to regroup surged out
of the dark forest like a wave.
“—Get them in a pincer attack…so they can’t shoot in this direction!”
The Alkonosts sharply pounced from the gap between the trees, and at the
same moment, Lerche’s warning blared through both the wireless and the
Sensory Resonance.
Regardless of that, Shin braced himself for the sound of the ghosts
emanating from the Alkonosts. The sound of the final moments of the war
dead whose minds had been taken away as they’d been subjected to
anesthesia. The voices of the ghosts, who continued wishing and begging to
be allowed to return.
It truly was too hard to discern, Shin thought with a click of the tongue.
He couldn’t tell them apart. Especially in melee combat, where friend and foe
were chaotically mixed together. The Alkonosts were optimized for fighting
on the frozen battlefield and deployed with an agility that ignored the snowy
terrain, closing in on the Legion’s front lines from three directions.
With the Zentaurs having been bombarded before they could launch the
entirety of the airborne forces, all that remained was to sweep up the Ameise
and the self-propelled mines, which had relatively low combat capabilities.
And with their numbers lacking, they were no match for experienced Eighty-
Six.
On the other hand, a detached armored force was struggling with the
Löwe that rushed in to cover for the Legion.
“Captain Nouzen, a detached force broke through. Two companies in size,
a standard formation of Grauwolf and Löwe types. Exercise caution.”
“Roger, Colonel. We’ll go in to intercept them… Kurena, cover me. Raiden, you
handle this side.”
“Lerche, take two platoons and join in. Learn from them.”
“By your will.”
The icons of the Juggernaut and Alkonost mixed unit started moving
within Vanadis’s main screen, and the battle with the two Legion companies
began. Lying in wait in the flanks of the Legion’s route and purposely letting
the enemy vanguard pass through in order to strike from their side was one of
Shin’s established tactics.
The Juggernauts and Alkonosts regrouped and soon switched to taking out
the Legion’s airborne forces. Shortly afterward, the United Kingdom’s
armored unit engaged and eliminated the Legion’s armored forces. And at
some point, in the midst of the combat that raged through the ice and snow…
“—You death-obsessed birds of prey…”
No one was there to listen when both a Processor and a United Kingdom
pilot let slip the same words.
Upon hearing the sound of a ghost’s weeping, as faint as the fluttering snow,
Shin instinctively turned in its direction. What he found wasn’t a crumbled
“It seems things are mostly taken care of. They should be retreating soon,”
Anju said, looking around the battlefield as signs of the enemy grew scarce.
The overlapping trees blocked their view of the frozen battlefield. It appeared
there was a large mountain river flowing from the other side of the forest to
their left and streaming water to the area, as the rumbling roar of the water
“They’re stranded.”
“Seems like it.”
It was a snowy mountain, albeit in summer, and they were a small number
of isolated people. Not just Shin but even Vika, who usually remained
composed in any situation to the point that it felt arrogant, had a severe
expression on his face.
They were in the Revich Citadel Base’s meeting room. They’d recognized
that Anju and Dustin had gotten caught in the landslide, but they’d had to
retreat to restock and out of concern for a counteroffensive from the Legion’s
territories. This emergency meeting had been called as soon as they’d
returned to base.
Raiden, Theo, and Kurena were still in their armored flight suits and were
prepared to set out and search for them as soon as their units were given the
minimal amount of fuel and supplies. Lena’s anxious expression and the
severe look in Vika’s eyes were because they realized the scope of the area
from the terrain. They couldn’t pick up the Juggernauts’ signals from the
depths of the ravine they’d plummeted into, and the Para-RAID wouldn’t
connect. There was no way of confirming their survival at the moment.
It was then that Frederica rose to her feet, scoffing with a look of
indignation.
“You lot seem to be forgetting something crucial, I believe. ’Tis at times
like these that I show off my true worth.”
“Your ability could let you see where they are!” said Lena when she
realized.
“Indeed. Leave it to me, Milizé. I shall find Anju and Dustin’s position
within moments.”
Puffing out her meager chest as much as she could, Frederica opened her
“eyes.”
However.
They’d carried the survival kits from their cockpits into the lodge, using the
waterproof matches and solid fuel inside to light the fireplace, leaving them
with nothing more to do but wait. Having taken off the top of her wet flight
suit and covered herself up with the blanket from the survival kit instead,
Anju stared into the fire, which still hadn’t grown.
Getting lost and stranded on the battlefield was a common occurrence in
the Eighty-Sixth Sector, and so despite having hurried to find a place to take
shelter, she wasn’t quite panicked or anxious. It was just…
Anju grimaced. At the time…he was always there by her side, as he had
been since the first squadron she’d been appointed to. And now he wasn’t.
Now he wasn’t anywhere.
“…Second Lieutenant Emma?”
“It’s nothing… Oh, you can call me Anju. We’re the same age, right?”
Dustin had also taken off his top and covered himself up with a blanket.
His silver eyes reflected the flickering flame. The silver eyes of an Alba. If
only her eyes were that color…she and her mother wouldn’t have had to be
sent to the internment camps. The thought crossed her mind every so often
when she looked at Dustin or Lena.
She didn’t wish she could live within the walls as a white pig, and the
comrades she’d met in the Eighty-Sixth Sector were irreplaceable to her. Yet,
she couldn’t ever say that her being driven out to the internment camps and
into the Eighty-Sixth Sector…had been a good thing.
Her mother had looked almost entirely like an Adularia, and she’d tried
“The place I lived in was a new town for first-generation immigrants. I was
the only Alba in my elementary school, too. And then…the war with the
Legion started, and everyone but me and my family was marked for the
internment camps.”
Dustin remembered it as he spoke. He’d thought everything had gotten
noisy outside, but his mother, who had seen what was happening that night,
told him he mustn’t look outside no matter what the next morning. And the
next day, when he went to school as usual…he was the only student left.
“It made no sense. Absolutely no sense. Look at Captain Nouzen—his
parents were from the Empire, but he was born in the Republic. He was as
much a descendant of the Empire as I was, but unlike me, he was born in the
Republic…but they sent him to the internment camp and not me. It should
Incidentally, Shin had kept his wireless on the whole time, so everyone who
was out on the search overheard the two’s conversation starting from the
bikini part. After returning to base, Dustin was subjected to what felt like an
endless stream of teasing by Raiden, Theo, Kurena, and Shiden.
“…Snow Witch and Sagittarius were just recovered, too. They’ll be going
into repair and maintenance as soon as they’re delivered back to base,” said
Vika, relaying a report he’d likely just received via Para-RAID from the
He should have gotten used to it by now, but for some reason he had to gather
much more courage than usual. Both to connect the Para-RAID and to say
this one sentence.
Somehow, he’d silenced the bashful anxiety from his voice and feigned
his usual tone, but he didn’t realize that he’d unconsciously done it, much
less why he’d done it.
The Revich Citadel Base’s observation tower was built over the remains of a
castle tower dug into the mountain supporting the canopy covering the base.
An overly steep, clockwise spiral staircase made up the long trip to the
canopy, where there was an observatory for tracking the enemy’s
movements. Standing at the top of the highest base in the region gave one the
impression they were sitting on a swan’s back.
At the circumference of the wings, antiair autocannons and antiground,
antiair sensors were set up, cutting off the view of the night sky. Even this
Lena smiled, reminiscing on the words that Eighty-Six girl—who was now
gone—had told her two years ago. She had always thought the Eighty-Sixth
Sector was hell on earth, a battlefield only the Eighty-Six were pushed onto.
And she’d never thought she’d come to hear those very same trapped souls
say that there were good things to be found there.
Even though she wasn’t in the same place as them. Even though she
didn’t know their faces or even their names at the time.
She sneaked a glance at Shin, who was also looking up at the sky silently,
in contemplation of something. It was hidden behind the tall collar of his coat
so she couldn’t see it right now…but the decapitation-like scar was still there.
Lena had never asked him about the origins of that scar. She didn’t know
“Shin.”
“Lena.”
Somehow, they called each other’s names at the exact same time.
For a moment, they both stumbled over how to continue. Neither could
decide how to react to the other, and an awkward silence fell over the starlit
observatory. Shin recovered first and said, “…Go ahead.”
“I’m sorry…”
Since the wind had been taken out of her sails, she had to muster up the
courage to speak again.
“…About what happened back then.”
She could faintly feel his guard going up. Apparently, that argument had
gotten to Shin. Somehow relieved by that fact, Lena pressed forward.
“I’m sorry. I went a little too far.”
“…It’s all right.”
“But I really am sad. That’s one thing I won’t take back. You all left the
Eighty-Sixth Sector and were set free from that fate of certain death. Or
rather, you should have been—but you’ve only just been set free.”
They’d finally escaped the battlefield where their only freedom had been
to decide where and how they’d die—but they were still standing on that
same battlefield. To say that fighting to the bitter end was their pride was,
indeed, the only identity they could cling to. And now that they were free to
wish for more, they simply didn’t.
They could go anywhere. They could become anything they wanted. They
were free.
“It’s pathetic that we failed to respond in time despite your warning, but…
I’m sorry, Nouzen. The Revich Citadel Base has fallen.”
They had shut themselves in the depths of the command ward, which was
now dark due to their having shut off most of the electricity. This was the
Revich Citadel Base’s underground command ward. It was in the fourth
underground level—the lowest one—and had been built to be partially
independent from the other wards. Vika spoke from the command post
situated at the center.
The composite sensors set up on the outer circumference of the canopy in
the highest level of the base were still functional. The command personnel
eyed the luminescent view of the snowy scenery before them with strained
Even with that warning, what attacked them was undetectable to both the
radar and their optical sensors, so their inability to do anything was perhaps
unavoidable. Shin and Vika weren’t directly linked in the chain of command,
and that brief lapse in communications brought about ruin.
It apparently landed atop the canopy protecting the base. The set
antiair/anticannon radar failed to detect its presence, and so antiair
autocannons could only fire blind barrages in odd directions. When those
were destroyed, the alarm finally went off, and shortly after that, the hatch
connecting the canopy to the observation tower was ruptured from outside. It
invaded, and the base’s defensive forces were ordered to dispatch to the
observation tower upon receiving news of the attack, where they encountered
it—and were one-sidedly slaughtered.
It traveled freely through the citadel base’s cramped corridors since no
Owing to the Strike Package’s armored unit’s nature of being a dispatch unit
and to most of its combatants being Eighty-Six who were familiar with
fighting only in a squadron-size force, it was divided into a special structure
of fourteen battalions, consisting of squadrons as its basic units.
The battalion captains were, excluding Shin, who served as the total
commander, the fourteen most veteran members, including the Spearhead
squadron’s lower-ranking officers and Bernholdt, the oldest
noncommissioned officer. The Sirins’ representative was Lerche, and on the
other side of the Resonance were Lena, Vika, and Raiden. The battalion
Theo spoke, and the sensation of him tilting his head quizzically transmitted
through the Resonance.
“So…you’re telling us to attack the base, Lena?”
“Precisely, Second Lieutenant Rikka… But in this situation, there’s only
one basic siege strategy we can adopt.”
Fundamentally speaking, in siege battles, the side holding the castle had
the advantage. Fortresses were military installations built and designed to
prevent an enemy’s infiltration. They were meticulously constructed on
specific battlefields that would put the side being sieged at an advantage.
Castle walls were one such example, as they deflected enemy arrows while
being equipped with many devices and schemes to allow the side holding the
fort to rain concentrated fire on the enemy.
This meant the side performing the siege had to adopt tactics that ignored
the walls. Like schemes that drove the occupying force to come out. Or
starvation tactics, though those often put the side holding the siege at a
disadvantage if the other side had stores of goods hauled inside. Other tactics
included destruction of the walls, digging of tunnels to burn down the
ramparts, and using battering rams and counterweight-type trebuchets to
crush the walls.
But none of these tactics were viable in this battle, and the Legion were
immune to all negotiation and intimidation. They would ignore any
provocation and would never succumb to war weariness. Since neither side
had a line of supply to support it, relying on attrition would be a double-
edged sword, and they lacked the time to do so, anyway. Finally, burrowing
their way into a base protected by granite, and placed on top of a cliff at that,
was impossible.
And with all that in mind, only one method remained. Picking up on what
Lena was about to say, Shin answered with a slightly stiff voice:
A heavy silence fell over the improvised conference room for a moment. Be
it the Republic models or the Federacy ones, the Eighty-Six’s Juggernauts
were meant for battle in urban or forested areas. They were used to vertical
movements using wire anchors. But…an ascent of over one hundred meters.
Even a Juggernaut wouldn’t be able to climb that distance in a single bound,
especially when exposed to enemy fire and self-propelled mines attacking
them on the way up.
“That’ll be…”
“Hard. We’ll take considerable losses.”
An ashen-faced Rito moaned, and Yuuto agreed with a severe expression.
Raiden then said calmly from beyond the Resonance:
“How about you forget the base and retreat?”
“Out of the question. Even if we retreat, we don’t have the supplies to
regroup with the main force.”
Shin cut off his proposal. That exchange of question and answer was
meant to inform the Processors of the situation. The Eighty-Six fought in an
unusual environment for soldiers, and the concept of lines of communication
and supply was unfamiliar to them. They didn’t have any experience
marching through battle for days. Nothing good would come of having them
fight without understanding why they needed to retake the citadel base.
Shin ignored the intent hidden behind that question. On the off chance
they might abandon the base. But they wouldn’t ever do that, no matter what.
“We’ll make retaking the base our priority and buy time against the
heavily armored Legion units with stall tactics. About right, Colonel?”
Stall tactics. A strategy that involved impeding the enemy’s advance
while avoiding direct conflict and slowing their movement. Since it was
based on repeating hit-and-run attacks, it required a good deal of distance
With the operation’s details decided, both Lena’s group inside the citadel and
the Strike Package outside set to work. Taking nighttime shifts into account,
the base’s command personnel mixed in with Vanadis’s control crew. The
Handlers Resonated with their Sirins in the control room, and any surviving
soldiers set out to secure the corridors. Raiden’s group was on standby in the
hangar, which stood as the largest and most probable invasion route.
Grethe Resonated from the capital, informing them that preparations had
been made to send in the reserve forces.
“The Legion have started closing in from all over on the second southern front,
“I think this is kinda strange,” Annette said as Grethe turned off the Para-
RAID. They were in a room in Roa Gracia’s royal castle. It was so
extravagant and comfortable it made them feel guilty being there while Lena
and the others were in the middle of a crisis.
“Their objective aside, they managed to pinpoint and attack the Strike
Package again,” Annette continued. “It feels like they’re reading our
Lena entered the room that had been allotted to her as living quarters and,
after undoing her blouse and stockings, looked down at the thing in her
hands. The Cicada. The Thought-Support Device Vika had given to her to
lighten the strain of Resonating with over one hundred people. She hadn’t
used it during the recon mission. It was too short, and her only Resonance
targets were the several captains.
But this time, she couldn’t afford not to use it. She needed to have the
entire brigade out there under her command, which made the number of
Resonance targets that much larger. With the siege battle predicted to be
particularly savage, if she were to pass out, there would be no one to
command the Strike Package outside. And while he might be willing to take
her place, it would put considerable strain on Vika, too.
Lena braced herself with an “okay” and drew up her long hair, placing the
Cicada on her neck so that it came in contact with her RAID Device. She felt
With the added thickness of the device wrapped around her like an outfit,
Lena wasn’t able to comfortably get her arms through her uniform’s sleeves,
and it felt tight around her shoulders, so she put on only her pumps and
returned to the command post. The deployment of the device was thinner
around her legs, which were farther from its point of origin, so they were
about as thick as her stockings, allowing her legs to fit into the shoes without
issue.
“A Skorpion?! Are you saying they brought one of their artillery types from
the rear to the front lines?!”
It was only natural that Lena was shocked enough to respond with a
question of her own. The Skorpion types—and howitzers in general—packed
unrivaled firepower but at the same time were relatively helpless on the front
lines. So to think the Legion would send them in—and while assaulting a
fortress, at that…
“Why would they…?”
Vika clicked his tongue loudly.
“…So that’s their play. Milizé, don’t have the Alkonosts pull back. The
Skorpion types were brought in to destroy the command ward’s partitions.”
Lena gasped. A 155 mm high-explosive projectile packed enough
firepower to blow a tank to smithereens if it hit directly. And the command
ward’s sturdy bulkhead partitions would eventually crumble if exposed to
concentrated fire.
They packed the highest firepower possible against fixed targets and were
at the same time lightweight units capable of being launched by a Zentaur—
which was likely why they’d been chosen. Based on the types that it had been
observed to catapult, the maximum weight that it could launch was ten tons.
The Löwe weighed fifty tons, and the Dinosauria weighed at least a
hundred tons—their barrels alone were over the permissible weight. In
contrast, the Skorpion had a simple form. Its weight was mostly in its shell,
and its only real attachments were its legs, so it was one of the lighter Legion
units. The fact that it was unarmored made it extremely convenient in terms
of the weight limit.
They’d sent it in because it fit the requirements. There was no trace of the
human logic of keeping their artillery in the back, where it would be safe. The
Legion didn’t shy away from the prospect of rushing into a minefield to clear
it and, despite being on the same battlefield as humankind, which shirked
from sacrificing comrades, acted on a different sort of logic altogether.
Which had led them to this course of action.
“…Roger that. The Juggernauts will attempt to close the distance, too,”
replied Shin, directing a bitter gaze at the decimated ruins of the Alkonosts
annihilated by a barrage of 155 mm shells capable of sweeping through a
radius of thirty meters. There was no way he didn’t understand the meaning
behind Lena’s pained order. The Skorpion types were far from an ideal pick
for defending the walls. Their forty-kilometer range was too long in this
scenario, with a large gap between their azimuth and inclination sights; they
were never designed to be present on the front lines, after all, and so they
weren’t suited to it.
That question made Kurena bite her lip. She inspected the map and found one
of the sniping points she’d noted. A slightly elevated ledge in the snowy
forest.
“A few. But…”
She’d honed her sniping skills out of her wish to help Shin, who faced the
enemy head-on as a vanguard. Her role was to remove enemies that got in
their way at times like now. He would surely need her help here. So long as
she could do this, she would get to stay at his side on the battlefield. It was
her role and hers alone; she would relinquish it to no one, and not even Lena
would be able to overtake her when it came to this.
And yet, she had to make this report. She moaned despondently at the
sight of the sensors of brand-new buckshot mines flickering repeatedly on the
ledge, covered by the light snow. They’d likely been set there to catch them
off guard as they returned from the Dragon Fang Mountain conquest
operation.
“It’s riddled with mines…! They set anti-tank mines all over the place!”
The thundering sound of an explosion enveloping the ledge reached even this
far. Raiden looked in the direction of it and spoke, as his Juggernaut’s sensors
couldn’t pick up anything beyond the concrete-and-rock wall. “So the
defensive line in the passageway got to work, eh…? Sounds like the guys are
struggling out there.”
“Well, yeah, you try rock climbing up that crazy cliff. Even Li’l Reaper’s gonna have
trouble with that.”
They were in the eighth hangar, on the lowest level of the Revich Citadel
Base. It was the largest hangar in the base, a huge space that took up that
“—Corridor five, fall back to corridor three. Mow them down. Thirty seconds
later, go back in to retake. There are Ameise equipped with heavy machine
guns coming from corridor zero. Rifle unit, retreat and provide covering fire
with anti-tank rifles. The moment they show their faces, take them out.”
As he commanded the action taking place across multiple corridors,
Vika’s rapid succession of orders echoing through the command ward made
it clear just how severe the fighting on the defensive line was. All the
corridors leading to the command ward were sealed by thick three-layered
partitions, but those would all crumble if they were to take repeated attacks
without someone to defend them. As such, violent skirmishes were unfolding
between the soldiers who stood in front of the partitions and the lightweight
Legion they were trying to keep at bay.
Antipersonnel/anti-light-armor buckshot mines went off, triggering in
succession, and the roaring explosions tearing through the corridors shook the
air as the sharp sounds of 20 mm anti-tank rifle fire came from another
direction. Footage of multiple corridors and assorted status screens appeared
one after another at a dizzying pace. Still looking at the holo-screens
deployed around him in a semicircle, Vika directed an Imperial purple eye in
Lena’s direction.
“If a single self-propelled mine gets through to here, it’s checkmate for us.
The shock waves would get as far as here, and we’d have nowhere to run.”
“Understood,” Lena replied with a small nod.
The enemies were mainly self-propelled mines, but for the command
ward, those types of enemies were the most lethal. If a powerful explosive
went off in this enclosed space, the shock waves would repeatedly rebound
off the walls and intensify. Shock waves of such intensity would easily
destroy the more fragile organs inside the human body, like the brain and the
intestines.
In the last operation, Shin had used Undertaker as bait and exposed his
As the sun set, a snow-bearing wind began to blow, obfuscating one’s field of
vision with a faint curtain of white. Even the Ameise’s compound sensors
were somewhat impeded by it, so their fire, along with that of the Skorpion
types, became significantly less accurate, making it easier to approach the
walls. But on the other hand, the scathing snow also acted against the
Juggernauts, making them trip over the stumps littering the deforested area.
More and more rigs became incapable of moving.
They tried to retaliate against the unimpeded howitzer fire raining on them
diagonally and horizontally by firing from below the walls, but the 88 mm
tank turrets and 105 mm gun launcher were impeded by the serrated
breastworks of the walls and hardly ever hit. Powerful breastworks,
reinforced by specifically made armored plates. They hid the line of fire
above the walls from harm while systematically deflecting the attacking
side’s fire—a perfect form of castle defense.
Slipping through the heavy, haphazard line of fire, Undertaker finally
reached the base of the wall. Stabbing its legs’ climbing irons and wire
anchor into the frozen surface, Shin reeled the wire in, forcing his ten-ton
machine up the wall. There were Legion above it, but the blizzard hid him
from view. Theo’s Laughing Fox joined him a few moments later. The two of
them led the Spearhead squadron’s vanguard platoons.
Anju’s surface-suppression platoon bombarded a different point on the
walls to draw the Legion’s attention away from their comrades, the roar of
their fire blowing away even the howling of the stormy wind. But for a
moment, the wind died down and then increased in intensity again, making
the curtain of white temporarily cease.
Their gaze met with a self-propelled mine that was leaning out from the
walls to peer down.
“…Get away! It’s gonna cling to us!”
Purging the wire he didn’t have the time to reel back and collect, Shin
kicked against the wall and danced through the air. It was a harsh altitude
even for the Juggernauts’ highly efficient shock absorbers, which were made
for high-mobility battle, but he had no other method of escape.
Lena looked on as one of the cameras on the surface level got hit by howitzer
“…Shit.”
An entire platoon of Sirins disappeared all at once as their Para-RAID
targets vanished. Realizing the meaning behind that loss of signal, a young
Handler swore under his breath. Once connected, the Sirins couldn’t cut the
Resonance on their own, and so there could be only one reason why the
Resonance would be severed against the will of the Handler. The poor girls—
incapable of sleep or losing consciousness—had died.
“Shit, shit, shit! Those goddamn inhuman Eighty-Six monsters! Using you
as bait…”
For the United Kingdom’s Handlers, the Sirins were not mere weapons.
They were precious partners and trusted subordinates. Some even thought of
them as their lovers, younger sisters, or daughters. These feelings were not
limited to the Sirins, either. Handlers of war dogs and drones often developed
empathy and excessive affection for their partners. Cases in which a Handler
who’d had their drone destroyed rushed in for revenge for their partner were
not uncommon.
And that was even more true for the Sirins, who had personalities of their
own—albeit artificial ones—and were made in the shape of innocent girls.
And those Sirins were now being consumed one after another. Ordered to
lead a decisive charge under a precipitous hundred-meter-tall cliff where they
would be exposed to concentrated fire, they acted as bait to be cast aside.
How could their Handlers’ hearts not ache for them? It was only natural
the Handlers would feel rage and indignation toward the Eighty-Six, who
pushed the Sirins onward to act as their decoys. All the Handlers felt that way
to some extent.
The Legion weren’t falling for their feint of aiming at the main gate. Kurena
had been searching for a decent vantage point to snipe from beneath the cliff
but had been unsuccessful.
With the sun setting, the fighting inside and outside the base died down.
Confirming the information on the holo-screens, Vika sighed once and said,
“Milizé, transfer command of the Strike Package to me for a while. Get some
rest.”
Leaving the command post vacant of a commander wasn’t an option
during combat. That was the reasoning behind Vika’s instructions, but Lena
shook her head earnestly.
“No. You rest first, Vika.”
“Are you intending to take command of a defensive battle when you’re
fatigued? You have far less stamina than I do. So you should rest first…
You’ve got bags under your eyes, and you look pale.”
Going back to her room, Lena disengaged the Cicada and switched back to
her Prussian-blue uniform. She then took up the steel-blue uniform that had
been tossed onto her bed. Frederica had brought someone’s spare uniform.
Having it on had been oddly comforting, but once the battle ended, it would
have to go back to its owner. She probably shouldn’t leave any wrinkles in it.
With that thought, she tried folding it with unpracticed hands.
But even though she was a soldier, for most of her life, Lena had put on
only the clothes she had in her closet. And when she went back home, a maid
would take her outfit and tend to it. When she spent time defending the
Republic after its fall, Lena had had no choice but to learn how to tend to her
own needs to some extent, but folding clothes still hadn’t been a concern of
hers at the time.
Especially when it came to a man’s jacket.
After Lena fumbled with it for a while, Frederica, who had watched over
her, sighed and snatched it from her hands. Since the number of people at the
command post was currently larger than its intended capacity, the excess
personnel had to share rooms in order to accommodate everyone.
“Hand it over. You are utterly hopeless when it comes to housework,
aren’t you?”
“…Thank you, Aide Rosenfort.”
“That title is bothersome. Simply call me Frederica, Vladilena.”
Frederica folded the coat in an unexpectedly brisk, practiced manner.
From what Shin had said about her, Frederica was about as skilled at cooking
as Lena was, but apparently that wasn’t the case when it came to cleaning up.
“…You’re good at this.”
They likely wouldn’t last the five days until aid arrived. At most, they could
last another two. Plagued by exhaustion and impatience, Shin left the
container after concluding his debriefing to the commanders, which was
filled with nothing but bad news, and he found Lerche waiting for him.
“It doesn’t seem like the snow will cease tonight… You can leave the
guarding to us. You should all get some rest.”
As he directed a questioning look at her, Lerche seemed to get a grasp on
his query.
“We require no rest, for we are mechanical birds.”
“That might be true for you…but not for your Handlers.”
“We require no command over us for a mere night watch. And some of
the Handlers have prepared for a sleepless vigil.”
…As would be natural. In siege battle, there was no guarantee night
would mean hostilities ceased. Still, her offer was quite helpful for Shin as
well. He could fight without a few days’ sleep, but his efficiency and
judgment would suffer for it. If he could afford to rest, he would.
“Thank you… I’ll warn you if anything changes.”
Lerche blinked once.
“Understood. I will leave one of us at your side… However…”
The way she tilted her head struck Shin as a slightly childish gesture. Vika
would sometimes call her a seven-year-old, which implied she’d begun
operating seven years ago. That innocent gesture looked like one a child that
Yes, the voice echoed its final thoughts but was at the same time repeating
its wish to pass on, same as the voices of countless other ghosts. It was
Lerche’s voice, albeit a few years younger. A youthful girl’s voice, like the
chirping of a bird.
“Lady Lerchenlied… She was His Highness’s milk sister.”
So it was someone Vika knew… Same as his mother, who’d passed away
soon after his birth.
The Serpent of Shackles and Decay—Gadyuka.
Such was the name of the viper, owing its reputation to the chain-like
“…My apologies for telling you something so strange. Please forget this
conversation… And…have a good night.”
And with a cheerful smile, Lerche left, and Shin returned to the armored
transport vehicle. The Juggernauts were stored in the vehicle as well, but the
other platoon members hadn’t returned yet. They were likely talking to their
comrades from other squadrons.
The Para-RAID turned on suddenly, and a familiar voice like a silver bell
addressed him timidly.
“—Shin?”
“Lena. What…?”
Shin was about to ask something and then gently fell silent. Lena’s voice
didn’t have any shades of panic that indicated a state of emergency. It was the
same slightly relaxed tone she’d had when she’d Resonated with them every
night at that barracks. He involuntarily let slip a wry smile—he could tell
Shin’s voice possessed that same serene, levelheaded tone it always did. But
it occurred to Lena that if he was to try to hide the truth of it from her…if he
was to conceal it to spare her the pain of knowing someone was injured or
killed, she’d have no way of knowing.
“It’s the same as two years ago, isn’t it…? I’m inside the walls, and you
guys have to endure all the fighting. If you get hurt or suffer…I won’t ever
know unless you tell me.”
And she shut them away in the battlefield to ensure her own survival. The
reason Shin and the others were fighting was partially because they lacked
the supplies to have everyone retreat and partially because they would leave
Lena and the others behind to die in the fort if they did. Because they’d
stopped out of concern for them when the citadel fell, and they’d been
trapped in the blockade because of that. If Lena and the others hadn’t been
What Lena said next filled Shin with so much anger his hair stood on end for
a moment.
“…If you think you might get wiped out, I want you to forget about us and retreat…
And if it’s impossible for all of you, then at least some of you—”
“I’ll get mad, Lena.”
He cut her off. That was one thing he couldn’t stand by and let her say.
“Telling us to abandon you and run is an insult to us. So even if it’s you,
Colonel… Even if that was an order, I won’t listen.”
“I’m not telling you to run. A strategic retreat is a perfectly viable strategy… And
it’s not like you’ve never abandoned things before. You’ve done it to defend your
friends who were still alive. Like when you told Anju not to go after Kaie’s head.”
“That’s… Tch…”
He reflexively thought to deny her argument but fell silent when he
realized he couldn’t. It wasn’t just Kaie. There were others he couldn’t
save…so many others. He couldn’t let many people die for the sake of saving
one person, and he wouldn’t risk his own life to cover for another, either.
“You’re right, but…”
“I’m not blaming you. You’re a squad captain, so it’s only natural you’d pick the
path that would save the most lives… This is the same. I don’t want you to apologize
for those choices.”
“…!”
It wasn’t the same. He had discarded things he deemed unnecessary more
times than he could count. But they weren’t the same as leaving her here to
EX MACHINA
Trying to overturn death was taboo. That was something he thought he’d
learned already on the day he’d tried to resurrect his mother. His failure had
resulted in a part of her being lost forever. A child longing for his mother was
a natural emotion for humans. And lamenting someone’s death came just as
naturally.
But if a child were to attempt to resurrect their dead mother, then it would
be the act of a monster or a madman. That was something he could never
know for as long as it went unsaid. And even once the words were spoken, he
couldn’t, from the bottom of his heart, fathom what was so horrible about it.
It likely meant that he was a monster, devoid of rationality.
And he should have known it by now.
The indignation and pity in his father’s eyes as he bore witness to the
dissected body of his wife, and his child who had done the dissecting. The
strength of his brother’s embrace as he wordlessly hugged that child, who
stood stock-still.
And the tears of his milk sister, who clung to him as she wept bitterly.
So he may not have understood, but he did learn that lesson and make that
oath. That was a sin. A sin that filled his precious father, brother, and her
with sorrow. So never again would he try to defy the border separating the
That same girl now lay before him, crushed beneath rubble.
“…Lerche.”
The words spilling from his lips without regard for his will felt as if they
were spoken with someone else’s voice. His throat was parched, suffocated
by the mineral dust in the air. A shell’s explosion had smashed a slab of
concrete and made it crumble over the frontline base, covering half the room.
It was the result of a direct hit from a Skorpion’s 155 mm shell, which had
enough firepower to reduce both a Barushka Matushka and a fortified
concrete bunker to bits.
She was crushed under a piece of rubble that was taller than his then-ten-
year-old self, as if someone had attempted to cut her in half right across her
midsection. A raw, unfamiliar stench tickled his nostrils, which had only
known the sterilized scent of the palace until now. A sticky substance oozed
from beneath the rubble—blood.
Even as she was tormented by the unimaginable pain radiating from her
lower half, her pallid pure-white face and her bloodied red lips contorted into
an earnest smile.
“Thank goodness.”
“…Why…?”
He instantly regretted that his question unintentionally overlapped with
her statement. Those were her final words. They couldn’t be interrupted or
missed. But he couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips.
“Why did you protect me…? I’m the one who should’ve been crushed
under this rubble…!”
Lerche was lying buried at the spot where he’d stood moments before the
collapse. He knew—he couldn’t help but know—that she’d pushed him out
of the way. Was it because he was royalty? Because it was decided that he’d
be her master? Did she really throw her precious life away, clinging to such a
stupid reason…?
When Vika awoke from his nap, he was greeted by the usual sight of the
thick concrete walls that distorted one’s sense of time. He’d gotten used to
this faint darkness teeming with silhouettes clad in the United Kingdom’s
purple and black, the Federacy’s steel blue, and the Republic’s Prussian-blue
uniforms over the last three days. The air, stuffy from the minimal
ventilation, was thick with an atmosphere of exhaustion.
It’d been three days since the siege had begun, and they were nearing the
end of their rope. Perhaps owing to the odd dream he’d had, Vika sighed
lightly.
He was presently in a frontline base’s pillbox, just as he’d been in back
then—albeit that one had been much smaller in scale and much worse
equipped than this one. The United Kingdom was a militaristic country, and
the Idinarohk line stood at its peak. They served as vanguards on the
battlefield, and they always stood at the front lines to learn how to do so.
And it all happened when, abiding by that custom, he was sent to the
southern front. Vika wasn’t being shunned in particular. Everyone, with the
exception of the king and the heir first in line for the throne, was equally sent
to war. And so his uncle, the royal prince; one of Vika’s elder brothers, who
was also a prince; Vika’s sister, a princess who was five years his senior; and
one of his cousins, who was also a princess, had all died in battle.
“Sir Reaper.”
He knew it was her. But hearing the wailing of a ghost so nearby still
made Shin rather uncomfortable. They were in the container that served as
their conference room. Shin was rearranging the Legion’s organization,
which had changed somewhat overnight, on the operation map, raising his
head only to face Lerche.
“A fine morning to you. I was just thinking of coming to wake you up.”
“What happened?”
He’d noticed only after saying it and clicked his tongue. They were on the
battlefield, and it was the morning of a battle. It was only natural to be wary
of anything unusual, but his voice was thornier than he’d intended—fighting
for these three days had put him more on edge than he’d realized.
“…Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Lerche shook her head gently. There was no trace of exhaustion about her,
Her voice was like the chirping of a bird but at the same time had a certain
viscosity to it. The voice of the dead—thick with loathing and envy.
“You get to be alive. Unlike us, you haven’t died yet, so you can recover
and fix things as many times as you want. You can redo anything and start
over!”
Overwhelmed, Shin had instantly fallen silent as Lerche slammed him
with fervent remonstrations. Though there was a smile on her face, there was
fire in her green eyes. Shin’s ability allowed him to hear the voices of
lingering ghosts as they repeated the thoughts of their final moments. But he
couldn’t hear what thoughts their mechanical minds harbored after death.
That held true for the young man who shared his kinship and blood, however
distantly, and even for his own brother.
And therefore, Shin had never heard the thoughts a ghost had after it died
and became as such. Those emotions—envy and rage toward those who were
still alive.
“You say you’ll fight on, but you won’t discard your body, which isn’t fit
for battle. You won’t relinquish the eyes that let you see others, the voice that
lets you speak to them, the hands that let you touch them, the body that lets
you live alongside them. Even though you wish to be with someone… Even
though you wish to find happiness with someone!”
Her condemnation reverberated like a scream: The same couldn’t be said
for her. After her death, she could not live alongside anyone. She could not
become happy.
And you, who can still do all those things… You, who still live…so
brazenly…
“……”
And Lerche smiled—her expression almost indiscernible from weeping.
“The only ones who should die are us: the ones who have long since died
already. You humans are still alive. Anything you lose, anything that gets
taken from you, can be reclaimed.”
Another deep-crimson shadow appeared in the container’s entrance.
“Lerche.”
The owner of that voice, as delicate as the moment snow crystallizes, was
Ludmila. A tall, graceful Sirin with hair far too red to seem natural.
“I’ve gathered everyone. Preparations to sortie are underway.”
“Roger that. Sir Reaper, please have all hands on your side prepare to set
out, as well.”
“…All hands?”
Lerche regarded Shin’s suspicious question with her usual soldierly smile,
all too unsuitable for the face of a young girl.
“I told you I would inform you if something happened, did I not…? His
Majesty gave his order. We will now go on the offensive.”
When she awoke from her slumber, the first thing she sensed was a
malodorous smell infiltrating her nostrils. It was a scent that dredged up a
certain memory she didn’t wish to recall. An old memory from eight years
ago—and a fairly new memory from one year ago.
The scent of burned metal and charred flesh, of decay and death. The
smell of the war dead’s remains, which were hidden in the back room,
gradually decomposing.
Shaking her head, which was still dull from fatigue, Lena sat up. She
slipped her arms through the sleeves of the steel-blue jacket she had
“…What?”
As Wehrwolf turned around in reaction to its sensors, Raiden regarded the
Barushka Matushka stepping forward from the darkness of the hangar with a
raised eyebrow.
“It’s His Majesty’s order. All Handlers are to tend to defending the entry points.”
The voice of a man a few years older than Raiden, from behind the
Barushka Matushka’s unsullied armor. It was a voice he’d heard a few times
—one of the Sirins’ Handlers.
“Once the unit outside breaks through the walls, you guys go and regroup with
them. We’ll keep things in check over here… His Majesty is our frontline commander,
and those of us Handlers who abide by him can fight, as well.”
Raiden felt Shiden scoff through the Resonance.
“You’ve got moxie—I’ll give ya that. But my Brísingamen unit is Her Majesty’s
personal guard. I won’t leave her defense to you outsiders. Sorry, werewolf boy, but
your unit’s gonna have to go alone to greet your master.”
“…Okay, first of all—”
He swallowed the obvious gripe of Who’re you calling my master? for the
“Why did you shift command of all the Sirins to yourself, Vika?”
“Because I’m the only one who can do this.”
His reply was rather concise.
“I believe you once told me that considering the strain it would cause,
controlling two hundred units at once was your limit.”
“And that’s why I won’t be the one enduring that strain… This connection
won’t be for combat purposes and will be good enough for the work ahead…
Besides…”
The prince of the north spoke casually, as if he was speaking of something
insignificant. With the pride of the clan that had trampled over countless
commoners for centuries.
“…this is my duty. Lerche, are you prepared?”
“Of course. We’re ready whenever you are, Your Highness,” Lerche replied,
her green eyes turned toward her optical screen. She was inside Chaika’s
narrow, dark cockpit, which was made to accommodate the Sirins’ bodies.
The Cicada’s silver threads sprouted from behind her, crawling along her
slender neck and slithering beneath her clothes. It connected to the power-
supply ports added across her body, deploying and activating across her skin,
which produced no bioelectric current.
She would be functioning as a relay for the majority of the large-scale
Resonance that was about to take place, making it possible by shouldering the
burden… This wasn’t something she’d been ordered to do. This was
something she wished for. Her master would have handled this all on his
own, not minding the strain. But Lerche didn’t want to let him do that.
My body is my master’s sword and shield. Defending him is my pride, and
letting even a single hair on his head come to harm would be the greatest
shame imaginable.
The United Kingdom’s and the Federacy’s Feldreß stood overlooking the
snowy field littered with the remains of the Alkonosts that had been
destroyed over the last two days and the fortress beyond it. They stood in a
line formation, with the remaining Alkonost units in a column taking the
front, and the Juggernauts behind them. They were divided into squadrons
according to the attack order discussed during the briefing, where it had been
decided the Juggernauts would go after the Alkonosts.
Shin thought it was an odd formation. The Juggernauts were in the center
of it, with the Spearhead squadron taking the lead right behind the column of
the Alkonosts, in a position to view the whole battlefield. It was a formation
that faced their target, the southern cliff, with almost foolhardy honesty. And
the Alkonosts up front were far too close together. It was an extremely
narrow formation.
A column formation was made to focus one’s military might and break
through enemy lines, but what stood before them wasn’t a mobile weapon but
an impregnable cliff. A trench was dug before that cliff as well, and it was
easy to imagine them being held back by it.
They carried logs and stones, likely gathered between the battles, and
stuffed them into empty containers that were forcibly connected to spare
Juggernauts’ wire anchors by a forerunner unit, and it seemed the plan was to
use those materials to fill up the moat and climb up that way.
The strength of a column formation lay in its impact, gained by
concentration of military might and its speed. But the moat and the wall
behind it would stop its momentum and render the charge ineffective. Worse
still, their stopping could make it hard to continue fighting, thus resulting in a
As the numbers ticked away, Vika suddenly realized the girl sitting in the
vice commander’s seat next to them had the ability to see the present of
people she knew.
“Rosenfort, close your eyes for a while. Not just your ability but your real
eyes.”
This sight was also visible to Lena back at the command post, from her
perspective above the walls.
“Vika…!”
“We couldn’t have the Eighty-Six do this.”
As she wheeled around to face him, the boy who’d ordered this suicidal
charge didn’t so much as furrow his brow. His cold, frozen eyes were locked
on his dolls, which were laughing even as they were crushed.
The final Alkonost to rush out extended two of its ten legs upward to climb
the wall. It was showered with fragments, and its cockpit was half blown off,
but the climbing irons at the tips of its legs dug into the rock face, and it went
silent after locking all its joints.
Thus, the bluish-white spiders’ death march finally came to a conclusion.
The only remaining Alkonost was Chaika, Lerche’s rig. The rest of the
“Tch…!”
He couldn’t suppress the shiver running through his body. The others
likely felt the same way. Every Juggernaut in their force hesitated for a
moment, faltering at the idea of stepping onto this grotesque siege route. But
as Shin stood frozen in place, the roars of the Legion reached his ears. The
Skorpion and Ameise types that had retreated once because of the Alkonosts’
fire were beginning to crawl out of hiding.
After everything they had just witnessed, they couldn’t let the Sirins’
deaths be for naught.
Shin gritted his teeth.
“—Let’s go.”
“You can’t be serious…!”
That was likely Rito. Ignoring the scream that came from someone else,
Shin pushed his control stick forward. Following the patches of exposed
black soil left behind by the Alkonosts’ rush, Undertaker moved forward as
the vanguard. After a moment’s delay, Laughing Fox, Gunslinger, and Snow
Witch followed in his footsteps. Then the remaining units of the Spearhead
squadron joined the rush, swearing as they went.
Most of the Eighty-Six present had survived years on the battlefield of the
Eighty-Sixth Sector. Even without being ordered to, the squadrons in charge
of the rear guard opened suppressing fire. The Skorpion types that moved
forward lowered their heads as the Juggernauts pressed through the curtain of
snow, and the sky above them gleamed with fire.
The snow grew heavier. As if to drown out the Sirins’ wails.
They reached the moat filled up with wreckage. Without reducing his
speed in the slightest, Undertaker stepped onto the grotesque bridge and
rushed over it in a single breath, climbing up the incline. Since it hadn’t been
filled by actual building materials, the road’s footing was uneven, and the
Juggernauts’ legs got caught in it easily.
Even with their eyes fixed on the goal, they still caught sight of the
ghastly remains of Sirins paving the way forward and the way the
Juggernauts’ footsteps kicked them up and crushed them further. Swatting
Because the path he had walked up to this point—the one that had led him
to the here and now—was paved over a mountain of his comrades’ remains.
Surviving meant walking over someone else. Someone who was dying.
Someone who was still alive. Someone he couldn’t save, someone he had to
abandon, someone he couldn’t reach out to. And without even noticing, he
would have to pass by someone dying, surviving as he walked over the piled-
up bodies and through pools of blood.
This was no different. He pressed onward, moving forward, even if it
meant stepping over a mountain of corpses. This sight simply happened to be
a manifestation of that. If anything felt wretched…it wasn’t just this siege
route but the entirety of the path that had led them to this point… It was
unavoidable, because there was no such thing as a war without casualties.
There wasn’t a nation in existence that had survived without sacrifices.
Man simply did not know how to survive any other way.
An unblinking, now functionless head with crimson hair flashed in his
field of vision. The reverberations of Undertaker’s dash shook the dangling
head free from the wires in its neck, and it rolled away out of sight. A gasp
escaped his throat, but he didn’t allow the tears to fall.
Lena. I’m sorry. People living…humans living… I…
The fighting in each of the corridors against the onrushing Legion was
The white smoke cleared. The Phönix lorded over the garden of battle as the
gauzelike curtain of snow grew fainter. As it loomed over the canopy, like a
bird with spread wings, the battlefield below it was surrounded with several
observation spires set in a counterclockwise formation. The metallic remains
of destroyed Skorpion types littered the ground along the inner hulls of the
palisades and internal partitions, which had crumbled from a barrage of tank
shells.
The all-too-gruesome marks of battle that permeated the silent white. The
unsightly signs of strife and the serene impermanence. The Phönix looked
over it all equally. And it confirmed Undertaker’s position at the deepest part
of the Juggernaut formation, still standing behind the southeastern partition,
with sight alone.
Returning its gaze, Shin addressed all present.
“All units, spread out. Avoid close contact with it at all costs. You’ll get
hit by stray bullets.”
It inclined its beast-like head forward, its limbs bending and building up
strength.
It’s coming.
It leaped into the air, falling straight down and brandishing its chain
blades to control its altitude. Landing on one of the spires’ roof tiles, it used
the impact to build up momentum and kick itself forward. Toward
Undertaker.
Chaika jumped out of the way, gaining distance so as not to get in the way
of the battle. Abandoning its empty magazines, Undertaker braced itself. As
it did, the Phönix jumped from spire to partition, kicking against their
surfaces with blinding speed, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. The
pieces of concrete and ice scattering into the air were the only way to track its
movement by sight. Its silver shadow swooped on Undertaker, intermingling
irregular hops to the left and right into its stride…
When…?
“Right on the money. You have to be a special kind of idiot to rush in like that.”
The Juggernauts had already placed their traps throughout the surface sector.
On top of the walls and the partitions, on the peaks of the spires, between the
labyrinth of bulkheads and buildings. They surrounded the Phönix from all
four directions and above. The Phönix zipped around, trying to evade and
break through the encirclement, but wherever it appeared, it was ambushed,
leaving a silver spray in its wake.
Buckshots rang. Small bombs rained down. Machine guns roared like
beasts, and anti-tank rifle rounds tore through the cold air as they flew toward
it. To top it off, while the mobile weapons engaged one another, soldiers ran
out and set up new directional buckshot mines, which unleashed a fanlike
spray of steel balls that stormed into the Phönix.
Big-game hunting.
No name could have been more fitting for this battle, Lena thought as she
looked over the goings-on through the optical screen. Such a ferocious,
cunning, dangerous animal was far stronger than any human, but they were
hunting it down by pooling their intellect along with their weapons. Such was
“…No.”
Contrary to Lena’s zeal, Shin squinted bitterly. The Phönix’s liquid armor
proved tougher than expected. As it was able to change its shape freely, it
could alternate between acting as spaced armor capable of stopping HEAT
projectiles and acting as restraining armor against APFSDS rounds. The
standoff distance from the point of explosion diffused the metal jet, and any
depleted uranium rounds that did hit it had their bullets crushed within the
armor. The liquid also had dilatant traits that made it momentarily harden
upon impact, so even as it spurted out in silvery flashes upon being hit with
buckshot and anti-tank rifle rounds, the armor did block their penetration.
While the majority of the liquid armor had been scraped away by the
fighting so far, the damage to the unit itself was light. On the other hand,
some of the Juggernaut units were already beginning to drop off from the
fighting. Laughing Fox was forced to retreat, having depleted the ammo of
both its 88 mm cannons and its two heavy machine guns. Gunslinger took a
…and the Phönix’s chain blade, as if cutting through water, sank into
Undertaker’s cockpit.
Lerche’s lips curled into a twisted smile from within Undertaker’s ruined
cockpit.
“You missed, you piece of scrap metal.”
“It can only tell us apart by our exteriors, huh? Our armaments and Personal
Marks.”
At that very same moment, Shin whispered from inside the cockpit of
Chaika, which sat crouched behind the Phönix. He’d switched places with
Lerche, moving from Undertaker, which had run out of ammo, to Chaika just
after they’d retaken the surface sector, under the cover of the smoke screen
set up by Dustin’s smoke discharger.
In the face of the Phönix’s speed, which allowed it to move across his
field of vision faster than he could keep up with it, Shin couldn’t afford to
wait for Fido to arrive and restock him with ammo.
The source of that idea was something Lena suggested and Vika later
ordered; Juggernauts and Alkonosts were weapons from different countries,
but both were Feldreß from the same generation, intended to be piloted by
humans or humanoids. In terms of their necessary functions and the
ergonomic rationality behind them, their switches and gauges were all more
or less similar. As such, piloting one instead of the other wasn’t something
that couldn’t be mastered after a few switchover training sessions.
Shin’s sights settled on the Phönix for the first time, and an electronic
beep signaled that they were locked onto its target. Shin pulled the trigger,
which was located on the right control stick’s index-finger position—the one
position that never changed in any weapon system.
“—Shoot it!”
Would Shin have refrained from shooting had either of them begged him
to stop? This single doubt crossed his mind, but his thoughts ventured no
further. Shin’s body and consciousness, optimized for battle, almost
automatically pulled the trigger.
The unleashed armor-piercing round tore the right arm from her shoulder,
dropping it to the ground. The HEAT shell impacted and burst, generating
metal jet that bore into the Phönix’s armor, spilling into its frame from the
ruptured section and setting it aflame. A moment later, the flock of silver
butterflies soared past the black flames, escaping into the snowy sky.
Having somehow beaten back the Phönix and all the other Legion units, the
command post gradually calmed down.
“…Milizé. What is that?”
Frederica’s voice, tinged with urgency, echoed through the room.
“Southern external camera number five… What is going on over there?”
Her bloodred eyes were fixed on the camera feed projected onto a corner
of the main screen. Following her gaze, Lena magnified the feed so it took up
the entirety of the main screen.
Lena’s breath caught in her throat.
At that same moment, Shin turned around, feeling an intense gaze on him.
The palisades were blown off from three days of fighting, forming a gap that
allowed him to overlook the snowfield spreading ahead. A few kilometers
away, atop the pure, unblemished virgin snow, stood a single Ameise, its
The Legion were usually rendered in a reddish-black coating, but that single
Scout type was as white as moonlight, as if blending in with the snow around
it. It lacked the two all-purpose machine guns, standing essentially
defenseless in the deserted battlefield.
But somehow, it seemed silently overbearing. Tattered and ragged as it
was, it lorded over all in a transcendent manner, like a queen standing over
the battlefield.
That was the commander unit of the Legion forces the United Kingdom
faced. In the shell of an Ameise—an unseen unit for a Shepherd—of the
original production line of Legion, which should not have existed to this day.
The Merciless Queen.
The flock of butterflies that made up the Phönix’s core fluttered down
beside it, swirling as it landed. A force of Dinosauria were hiding in the
vicinity, lying in wait in the snow, a veritable queen’s guard.
Shin’s eyes were drawn to a spot of vibrant color upon the Ameise’s left
shoulder. The symbol of a goddess reclining against the crescent moon. A
Personal Mark. But he’d never seen a Legion unit branded with one of
those…
He could hear Vika, who was apparently seeing the same Ameise, groan
through the Resonance.
“Zelene…!”
Zelene was a name derived from the moon goddess of old—Selene.
Perhaps the Personal Mark of the crescent moon was derived from that, or
perhaps she’d simply carried that motif out of affection when she was alive.
The Merciless Queen finally turned its composite sensor in their direction.
The reverberating moans grew louder. A young woman’s voice, speaking the
final thoughts she’d had prior to her death. A voice that, indeed, fit the
woman bearing the name of the goddess of the moon. Cold, dignified, and
most of all, merciless.
But despite that…
…Shin.
His mother smiled within his memory.
They were standing before the door to the church at the corner of the
internment camp. Her long locks were the same red color as his brother’s,
and her eyes were the same crimson gemstone color as his. She was clad in a
boorish, worn-out field uniform, which didn’t fit her delicate demeanor. Her
pale hand, which he couldn’t recall ever having hit him, not even once,
brushed through his hair.
Do as your brother and the reverend say.
Be a good boy…Shin.
So she had said and smiled. Her eyes gentle.
He remembered. He remembered.
…He finally remembered. His father’s face. His mother’s voice. His kind
older brother. The childhood friend, a girl, he would play with every day.
Their estate in Liberté et Égalité, the research his father undertook, the smart,
loyal AI in the shape of a dog he’d once had.
“…!”
The truth was, he’d never lost it. He’d never been incapable of
remembering it. He merely hadn’t wanted to recall…the fact that he could
never return to that happy world from when he knew nothing…
His family members had all passed away and were nowhere to be found.
The house he could return to was an empty shell of what it once was. Even if
he did return, no one would be there waiting for him. Even if he went back to
a time of peace, he would never be able to smile as he had back then.
And as things had been taken away from him, he’d only come to realize…
the malice of humanity. The cruelty of the world. Its absurdity. Its baseness.
Its mercilessness. Its remorselessness.
If he didn’t consider those things to be the base elements of the world, he
would not have been able to bear it.
After glaring at the humans who observed it wordlessly, the white Ameise
looked away and turned around in the silent step unique to the Legion. The
crouching Dinosauria rose up and followed in its footsteps, shaking off the
snow that had piled onto them. They surrounded it as if to guard their delicate
queen, hiding it behind their massive frames. Finally, the flock of butterflies
turned an oddly obsessive glance in Shin’s direction and fell in line, albeit
with a hint of reluctance.
As the Merciless Queen disappeared into the darkness of the snow along
with its line of retainers…no one gave pursuit.
“…Your Highness.”
A more ordinary person would have been traumatized by the sight, but
sadly, he felt nothing. As Vika looked down at Lerche, who was lying down
powerlessly, he couldn’t help but affirm to himself that he truly was a
monster, human in shape and nothing else.
Lying helplessly near his military boots, atop the flagstones exposed by
the melting of the snow, was Lerche. She’d been reduced to only her upper
half, and her silvery inner mechanisms were exposed as light-blue circulatory
liquid spread beneath her in a puddle.
Just as she had once been in the past.
Looking down at her, Vika said, “Stop breaking at every turn, you seven-
year-old.”
“Understood. My shame knows no bounds…”
Lerche regarded his all-too-unreasonable rebuke by somehow skillfully
dropping her shoulders despite being reduced to only her upper half. Sirins
felt no pain. Since they were mechanical dolls that could simply have any
damaged parts replaced, they didn’t require the alarm system a living,
The faint shimmer of the snow reflected off the 88 mm turret of the
Juggernaut sitting atop the siege route, and for the first time, Shin could see
that glow only as completely and utterly vile.
“…Shin!”
As Shin stood still, a voice reached his ears. He couldn’t hear the sound of
any footsteps. Those were swallowed up by the snow that piled over the
marks of battle, and only her silver-bell-like voice reached him.
Tripping over the unfamiliar snowy route, Lena ran up to him, clinging to
his body in her rush. His thick flight suit didn’t conduct any heat, so he
couldn’t feel her warmth through it.
Now, then.
Thank you, as always. I bring you 86—Eighty-Six, Volume 5: Death, Be
Not Proud. The title is a nod to the John Donne poem by the same name.
I sincerely thank you all for waiting for so long. It’s the pilot suit episode!
Her Majesty in a pilot suit! I did it!
And no quips about that not being a pilot suit!
Feast your eyes!!!
• Dilatant liquid:
Put simply, it’s like custard cream.
There’s actual footage of custard cream squished between two panes of
glass stopping a bullet, but…
Custard cream, really…?
In any case, I hope that for even a short moment, I could take you to that
battlefield cloaked beneath a white veil, and to his and her sides as they face
the divide between them, and the presence of death they should have long
grown accustomed to.
Music playing while writing this afterword: “Eve of the Future” by Ali
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