Volu 4. Chapter 1: Duty Calls
86 – Eighty-Six
The stench of death lingered over the joint headquarters of the Federacy’s Western Front. The last operation had cost the Federacy hundreds of thousands of lives—four corps and over sixty percent of their total forces. Even transport vehicles couldn’t keep up with the removal of the deceased, temporarily turning the base into a morgue.
“The Eighty-Six strike force.”
Though spring had arrived, the air felt unnaturally cold as Major General Richard Altner, commander of the 177th Armored Division and the Republic of San Magnolia’s Expeditionary Unit, spoke the na of the unit.
“An autonomous mobile strike force piloting Reginleifs to suppress key Legion positions. Essentially, a foreign unit composed of the Eighty-Six... So, will they finally get to greet their queen?”
He surveyed the soon-to-be office of this “queen,” the foreign officer from the forr Republic of San Magnolia, before turning his gaze to the person across from him. The aroma of substitute coffee wafted between them.
“What do you think? Will they manage?”
“I have no doubts about their combat potential.”
A cold smile appeared on the composed face of Commodore Willem Ehrenfried, the Western Front Army Chief of Staff, whose pale complexion was characteristic of noble birth.
“Most of the Eighty-Six we’ve taken under our protection are what they call callsign bearers. Veterans who’ve spent years fighting in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, despite a survival rate of less than one in ten. They’re far superior even to our soldiers who’ve undergone standard combat training. From a tactical standpoint, it would be unthinkable not to use them.”
Even though it was just substitute coffee, it was brewed properly and elegantly served in porcelain cups. Enjoying the floral aroma of the hot drink, Willem continued:
“And we now have a good grasp of the Reginleifs’ practical application. Their mobility allows them to match even Legion Wolves at full speed. Thanks to the Eighty-Six, the Legion won’t be getting their hands on our precious operators anymore.”
“Willem, I was asking whether the Eighty-Six can manage psychologically,” Major General Altner interjected.
He placed his coffee cup back on its saucer with a soft clink of porcelain.
“They know no peace, have no holand, and nothing to defend on this battlefield... Do you really believe they can beco the Federacy’s sword, despite the constant friction with our own troops whenever they’re stationed together?”
The first group of Eighty-Six accidentally rescued by the Federacy was a pri example. Though they were shown peaceful lives, they couldn’t—or perhaps wouldn’t—accept them. Their reckless determination to plunge into battles with near-zero survival odds struck fear into the Federacy soldiers. Despite their nurous accomplishnts, which far exceeded those of the Federacy army, they were scornfully referred to as “monsters raised by the Republic.”
One thing Willem knew for sure: dragging those who had grown up on the battlefield into a peaceful life would only confuse them, make them doubt, and eventually suffocate them.
“Good hunting dogs need a fierce temperant. A good master, Richard, knows how to aim that temperant at their enemies.”
His aristocratic phrasing, which seed to deny the humanity of others, drew a sharp glance from Major General Altner. In response, the Chief of Staff shrugged gracefully.
“Of course, if they fail to adjust to peaceful life, we’ll all face trouble after the war... as will they. No one wants ex-soldiers turning to cri when there are no battles left to fight, do they?”
Major General Altner raised an eyebrow.
“Surprising, Willem. I thought you’d say sothing like, ‘The solution is to give each of them a bullet.’”
“Well, you’d have to account for the cost of fuel to burn the bodies, the psychological toll on the executioners, not to ntion the paperwork to cover up the disappearances, and the bribes for everyone involved. And even with those expenses, it would eventually co to light… just like the Republic.”
After the operation to destroy Morpho, the survival of not only the United Kingdom, the Alliance, and the Republic but also other nations had been confird. Soon, everyone would learn of the atrocities committed by the Republic, where the Eighty-Six—known there as the Colorata—had been an oppressed minority.
The Republic’s treatnt of the Eighty-Six would go down as one of the most heinous acts in recorded history. Its stained reputation would endure for decades… assuming humanity survived that long.
“Compared to all that trouble, helping them adjust to civilian life and enrolling them in a special officer academy is a far more efficient solution. We’d gain squads of young n and won with brilliant futures ahead of them... Besides...”
Willem’s smile vanished as he locked eyes with the Major General.
“After defeating Morpho and liberating the Republic, people may be celebrating, but the reality is that the war situation continues to deteriorate. The heavy losses have severely reduced the Western Front’s military capability, aning taxes will have to rise. We need to make use of our war dogs now, while their spears are pointed at the Legion... Otherwise, the Eighty-Six might distance themselves entirely.”
†
She had seen this nightmare countless tis.
On the edge of a naless wasteland, beyond scorched and barren battlefields, a handful of skeletons, bleached by the sun, fought against a tide of tal monsters. Without supplies or support, the skeletons, worn down by the overwhelming enemy numbers, fell one by one.
The last one, a lee specialist, was surrounded by Dinosauria and torn apart. His broken high-frequency blade stabbed into the ground like a gravestone. The tragedy didn’t end there—when the Legion tore off the cockpit lantern, it revealed the blood-soaked interior. The mangled body of the Processor inside hung limp, like a rag doll. The dead were given no honor. Their bodies were ripped apart, and their heads taken.
Lena didn’t know his face. The figure in the desert camouflage uniform being pulled from the cockpit had no face.
From beginning to end, all she could do was watch. Her voice would never reach them. She couldn’t fire a single shot to support them. She could only bear witness to their horrific fate.
How many tis had she woken in the middle of the night screaming his na? How many tis had she activated the Para-RAID, desperately trying to connect, only to have her heart shattered again?
She had never seen the end, so she couldn’t know for sure, but this was reality. His fate must have been far worse than she could imagine. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.
But now, she would never see that dream again.
Federacy of Giad’s Western Front Joint Headquarters.
This was where Lena woke up that morning. She adjusted her uniform with care, buttoning up her crisp blouse, donning a black jacket, and affixing her insignia and holster. She even adjusted her cap and tucked aside her single red strand of hair. Her every move was filled with the resolve of a knight preparing for battle.
She stared into her reflection, her silver eyes matching the color of her hair. Her black uniform expressed mourning for her fallen subordinates, while the red strand symbolized the blood they had shed. Staring back at her was the fierce face of the Bloody Queen, stained with those very colors.
A knock on the door broke the morning silence just as she tightened her tie.
“Colonel?”
Lena smiled. She hadn’t seen his face… not until yesterday. But she would never forget his voice. Over the past two years, it had been a gentle support for her. His calm, steady tone and clear diction had comforted her. Now that voice was right beside her, and she would never have to see that nightmare again.
“I’m awake. Please, co in.”
There was a brief, almost hesitant pause. Then the door softly opened, and Shin stepped inside.
His black Onyx hair and crimson Pyrope eyes stood out. She had learned only yesterday that his older brother, Rei, had the opposite coloring. The steel-blue Federacy uniform seed to suit him naturally. His slender fra and pale face matched the ntal image she had ford of him from his voice, but his hardened physique was proof of years spent on the battlefield.
“Colonel, the transport will arrive at the base at 8:25. Please be ready by then.”
“Understood,” Lena replied shortly. She turned, glanced back into his crimson eyes that reflected her dark silhouette, and nodded. “I’m ready… Let’s go.”
Recently constructed, the Rustkamr Base—“Armory”—stood in Wolf’s Land, an uninhabited region bordering the forr Empire and manufacturing territories. For the Eighty-Six strike force, now new to Lena, this was their main base of operations.
It was a vast installation surrounded by forests stretching westward from a nearby highland. A river separated the base from a nearby town nestled in the shadow of old fortress ruins, just a short walk away.
The barracks housed approximately ten thousand Processors and a support staff large enough for an entire battalion, along with nearly a thousand other personnel and multiple hangars for Reginleifs. There was also a runway for transport planes and a training ground spanning several sections of the base.
The base had been deliberately placed near the town not only for logistical convenience but also to help reintegrate the Eighty-Six into society. Having spent their childhoods on the battlefield, they needed a chance to acclimate to peaceful environnts. The Eighty-Six who had been sheltered six months earlier were still attending a special officer academy, while the senior four—Raiden, Theo, Anju, and Kurena—had returned to the barracks under the guise of handling paperwork. This left Shin as Lena’s sole escort.
As the sun beat down rcilessly on the airfield, Shin offered to carry her luggage and the cat carrier.
“Let take those.”
“Oh, it’s fine. They’re not heavy.”
Shin ignored her protests, took her belongings without a word, and began walking ahead. Considering it would be rude to wrest them back after his insistence, Lena reluctantly allowed it this ti.
“Thank you very much.”
“It’s nothing.”
That curt tone could have widened the distance between him and anyone else, but… for Lena, it felt nostalgic. She glanced at the young man beside her, whose head stood a bit higher than her own, and couldn’t help but smile. Her eyes caught on a red scar faintly visible beneath his collar—a ghastly mark running across his neck, reminiscent of an execution wound, as if his head had been severed and hastily reattached. A battle injury, perhaps? It looked old.
After their brief eting yesterday at the morial with the four broken Juggernauts and five hundred seventy-six fallen Processors, she had hardly had the chance to talk to Shin and the others. Her formal reception at the Federacy’s Western Front Joint Headquarters had occupied most of her ti. As a representative of the Republic, she had also been obliged to attend several social etings. She hadn’t had a mont to rekindle old friendships.
She had spoken to Shin only briefly during the car ride to the base, learning just enough about their two-year reconnaissance mission and their eventual arrival in the Federacy. She hadn’t had the opportunity to ask about the scar… but perhaps it was better to wait until he brought it up himself. Whatever had left such a horrifying mark on his body must have left an equally deep wound on his heart. For her to broach the topic carelessly would have been unkind.
Sensing her gaze, Shin turned to her.
“Sothing wrong?”
“N-no, it’s nothing.”
It made her happy just to look at him… but that was too embarrassing to admit. Lena turned her flushed face away, and Shin shot her a suspicious glance.
“By the way, I noticed you were promoted. Congratulations.”
“Oh, yes… thank you,” Lena replied shyly, unconsciously touching the insignia on her collar.
Attaining a senior officer rank was already difficult, and a commander’s rank—like colonel—even more so. Of course, warti promotions could sotis be absurdly swift, but for a soldier still in her teens to achieve the rank of colonel was unheard of.
“It’s mostly for appearances, honestly. Traveling to another country with a lower rank wouldn’t have looked good.”
On the other hand, the Federacy’s representative to the Republic’s relief operations had only volunteered as a junior officer. Half a year after the fall of the Grand Mur, many Republic citizens still awaited rescue, hoping others would fight in their stead or refusing to fight for themselves at all.
The plan was for the Federacy’s rescue forces to withdraw after reclaiming the Republic’s northern administrative sectors, leaving their defense to the Republic’s military. But Lena had little hope for such an outco, considering the state of things.
“That’s true for you as well, Captain Nouzen. You’ve been in the Federacy’s military for only two years, yet your rapid promotion to captain must speak volus about your achievents.”
“All the ranks above mine are vacant, which shows how chaotic the country’s situation is...” He shrugged, offering a faint smile.
Lena stared at him in surprise. Until today, she hadn’t known what Shin looked like, yet it felt as though his expression had softened. The cold tone of this Eighty-Six boy always seed to… hold sothing back. He suppressed it with such ferocity that it seed as if he might break at any mont.
The tir ticking away the monts until his death had guided him for years. His goal had been to free his brother’s soul from its chanical prison. And he had achieved it. For now, at least, he had completed his mission. Perhaps he could finally find peace—perhaps he could finally rember his brother with a bittersweet fondness, despite having been forced to kill him.
“As a tactical commander, I expected you to have aides or subordinate officers. But you’re alone.”
“No one volunteered. I do have scheduled etings with so Processor candidates and… a technical officer. Major Henrietta Penrose.”
Lena paused slightly before finishing the na.
“...Oh, the Para-RAID consultant,” Shin said with a faint, puzzled nod, seemingly unaware of why Lena had hesitated before saying Annette’s na.
She glanced at him. Henrietta wasn’t typically shortened to Annette, which was why she had given both the first and last na without abbreviations. Perhaps Annette had introduced herself that way to Lena because she didn’t want to be reminded of the boy who used to call her by that nickna—a childhood friend she had hurt, abandoned, and hadn’t seen since.
“You really don’t rember…?”
“Rember what?”
“Never mind,” Lena said, shaking her head to avoid the question.
After all, this wasn’t her place. If Annette wanted to talk to him about it, she would.
The brief silence between them was interrupted by a “ow” from the cat carrier in Lena’s hand.
Shin glanced down and blinked in surprise.
“You brought a cat?”
“It’s the one from the Spearhead Squadron’s barracks who used to stay near you.”
“I see…”
His expression didn’t change, but that was just the kind of person he was. The cat, on the other hand, seed to recognize his voice, owing excitedly in response.
“What did you na him?”
“Thermopylae.”
“Thermy” for short. Shin went quiet for a mont. Thermopylae was the na of a battlefield where a small army had faced an overwhelming enemy force and lost.
“Not Leonidas?”
“No.”
“Your naming sense is terrible.”
“Says you, Captain. This little one stayed with you, so he couldn’t be Leonidas. And he didn’t et a noble end in battle.”
“Maybe, but Thermopylae feels…”
“Then what did you call him before the special reconnaissance mission?”
The Processors of the Spearhead Squadron hadn’t given the cat a na, as he wasn’t a comrade in arms. Shin had referred to him using the na of an author from a book he’d been reading.
“I think… Ogai?”
“Don’t tell you were reading The Boat on the River Takase back then?! That’s even worse!” Lena groaned in frustration.
“The essence of the story is different,” Lena continued her rant, her voice tinged with frustration. “But to summarize, it’s about a young man who killed his younger brother. And you were on your reconnaissance mission to fight your own brother—who had beco a Shepherd—with the full knowledge that one of you might have to kill the other. Reading that book in such a situation isn’t just bad taste—it’s outright masochistic!”
“It just caught my eye. There wasn’t much thought behind it…” Shin trailed off, his tone unperturbed. Then, as if recalling sothing, he added, “Oh, by the way...”
They had arrived at the largest hangar on the base, connected to the first barracks, where Lena’s office would be located. The massive doors were open, the space inside currently empty as the Feldress were still in transit. The hangar had high ceilings, several overhead cranes, and walkways crisscrossing the second level.
“Colonel…”
“...Yes?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be very angry about this, but please direct all your anger at .”
“Excuse ?”
Suddenly, a gruff voice barked from above:
“Ready—!”
Startled, Lena turned toward the sound, her instincts alerting her to so form of danger.
“Fire!”
Before she could fully process what was happening, a deluge of water poured down on her.
“Kyaaaaa!”
With a loud splash, Lena was soaked to the bone. She instinctively flinched, looking around in shock as water dripped from her hair and uniform. A group of young n and won, wearing either military uniforms or work attire, stood on the upper walkways holding empty buckets. It was clear they were responsible for the impromptu drenching.
As Lena stood there, too stunned to speak, Shin reappeared, having prudently stepped away just as the command to “ready” had been given. He approached her now, his expression a mix of mild guilt and awkwardness.
“It’s just water, so don’t worry… Right, Staff Sergeant Bernoldt?”
“Yes, sir!” barked a stout, middle-aged soldier standing proudly on the walkway. “We pulled it straight from the nearest water supply! Two idiots tried to bring buckets of paint, but I made them dump it on themselves as punishnt!”
“Oh…”
That explained the two soldiers in the corner, one covered in red and the other in white paint. Casting them a quick glance, Shin addressed Bernoldt in his usual calm tone, though it carried an authoritative undertone.
“Before you go to the showers, wash off at the water station so you don’t clog the drains. And clean up the ss here afterward.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Understood, sir!”
Their responses, loud and desperate, were t with a dispassionate nod from Shin. anwhile, Lena remained frozen, processing what had just happened.
“Is this… so sort of tradition for welcoming new officers in the Federacy?”
“No,” Shin replied, shaking his head. “The Federacy hasn’t existed long enough to have such traditions…”
“Captain Nouzen, stop making excuses and explain yourself,” interrupted a new voice, cutting through the air like a whip.
Lena turned to see a young woman approaching, her stride confident and commanding. She carried a few towels in her hands. Lena’s eyes widened in recognition—it was Colonel Greta Wenzel, the commanding officer of the Eighty-Six strike force and, technically, Lena’s superior.
“C-Colonel Wenzel?! My apologies—”
“Oh, cut the formalities, dear,” Greta said with a wry smile, tossing a towel over Lena’s head and beginning to wipe down her soaked uniform with another. The towels were warm, their scent suggesting they had recently been dried in the sun.
“You’ll find spare clothes in your quarters, and the bath is already prepared. At least Captain Nouzen had the decency to order the towels in advance.”
“My apologies…” Shin muttered, his expression a mix of regret and resignation.
“But your lack of foresight just proves you’re still a boy, Captain. It’s endearing in its way, but if you don’t shape up as an escort, she might start to dislike you.”
“Colonel...” Shin’s tone was weary, as though used to her teasing.
“Oh, am I talking too much? Bla yourself for letting your Feldress record such juicy conversations in its operation logs,” Greta quipped, laughing as she handed off the towels and walked away.
The staff sergeant, who had descended from the walkway, saluted briskly.
“We’ll take care of the cleanup from here, Colonel.”
“Staff Sergeant Bernoldt,” Greta called back sharply, “what exactly do you plan to do with the towels that a young lady used?”
“Please don’t joke like that! Especially in front of the captain! Damn it, she’s probably the sa age as my kids! She doesn’t even—”
“Doesn’t even what?”
“Ahhhhhhhh! Forget it! Just forget I said anything!”
The animated exchange, hard to imagine between a senior officer and a subordinate noncommissioned officer, faded into the distance as Greta left. Shin, sighing in exasperation, turned back to Lena.
“You should change quickly. I’ll escort you to your quarters.”
Lena’s personal quarters were located on the upper floor of the first barracks. The space was divided into two rooms: a reception office at the entrance and a private bedroom in the back. Despite being on a military base, the rooms prioritized comfort over the spartan practicality typical of commanding officers’ accommodations. The decor was in a soft pearl shade, perhaps chosen with the young lady’s tastes in mind.
Shin set her luggage and the cat carrier down on the floor before stepping out. The black cat cautiously erged from the carrier, sniffing the unfamiliar surroundings. The large windows in the office offered an unobstructed view of the town across the river, its silhouette frad by the ruins of an old fortress.
In one corner of the town, a newly built school served the Eighty-Six who had been removed from internnt camps and were finally receiving basic education. While a single psychological support team was typically assigned to a division-sized unit, two teams had been allocated specifically for the Eighty-Six. It should have been the Republic’s responsibility to provide such care...
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Lena headed into the bathroom attached to her bedroom. The room was tiled with vibrant ceramic, and the faint floral scent in the air suggested essence had been added to the bathwater. She removed her light makeup, turned on the luxurious faucet, and let the hot water run over her.
After a mont’s thought, she realized she still hadn’t received a proper explanation for what had just happened. Opening the door slightly, she picked up her Para-RAID device, which lay on a towel nearby, and activated it.
“Um, Captain…”
The connection abruptly cut off. After a mont, the synchronization reestablished itself.
“Why did you disconnect?” she asked, her tone mildly accusatory.
An embarrassed response ca through the link.
“Why are you using the Para-RAID right now?”
“We didn’t finish our conversation earlier.”
“We can finish later… at least after you’re done with your bath, please.”
Lena frowned.
“Why can’t we talk while I’m in the bath?”
“Why?” Shin echoed, sounding baffled.
Tense silence followed before Lena broke it with firm insistence.
“Two years ago, in the Spearhead Squadron barracks, you used the Para-RAID to explain the Black Sheep and Shepherds… while I was in the bath.”
“Yes, but… you didn’t seem comfortable with it, so there’s no need to force yourself.”
“Well…”
She had been uncomfortable.
The Para-RAID transmitted only auditory sensations, but the synchronization made it feel as though they were speaking face-to-face. Lena realized her embarrassnt was likely palpable to Shin, and it only made his hesitation more pronounced.
Adding to the awkwardness was the background noise of running water, her steady breathing, and the sound of droplets sliding down her hair.
“But now isn’t…”
The connection abruptly cut off again. This ti, it seed Shin had deliberately removed his Para-RAID device.
Lena slowly shook her head.
"It’s not a cross... It’s not guilt. It’s armor. The black-dyed uniform. The red strand of hair. All of it was armor I desperately needed to fight alone in the Republic, where everyone had forgotten what it ant to fight."
“But…”
The words escaped her pink lips without her realizing.
“…no one stayed with . Not you, not anyone—all those I commanded after you left moved forward, leaving behind.”
A calm voice in her mind urged her to stop, but the bitter whisper broke free.
"It was your country that exiled them. Your country that sent them to their deaths. You have no right to say anything, no right to cry to him about your loneliness."
“No one believed in . No one would fight alongside … No one stood by my side.”
"Even though I begged, ‘Don’t leave .’"
“My uncle and mother died, and I was left completely alone… If I hadn’t pretended to be strong, I would never have lasted this long. If I hadn’t called myself the Bloody Queen, if I hadn’t believed in that lie myself, then I…”
“I understand.”
“…would have broken long ago.”
Shin acknowledged Lena’s vulnerability without a word. Perhaps he saw himself in her confession. Maybe the boy her age had taken on the na of the God of Death for the sa reason—to survive on a battlefield of certain death.
“But you don’t need it anymore. You’re not alone now… You have , Raiden, and the others by your side.”
The warmth of his body, slightly warr than her own, which had once made her nervous, now comforted her. It lent weight to his words and gave her hope.
“Didn’t you want to fight alongside us?”
“!..”
Lena had reached her limit. She pressed herself against the person finally standing by her side and cried like a child.
“Well, they’re… how do I put this? A troubleso couple, huh?” Theo said, holding one hand over Frederica’s mouth and using the other to restrain the squirming girl.
“Didn’t think I’d spend the whole day covering for them from these two,” Raiden replied, holding Kurena in the sa manner.
They were at a corner in the corridor where Lena clung to Shin, crying loudly. Raiden and Theo hid in the shadows behind the wall, whispering as quietly as possible so Shin’s sharp senses wouldn’t catch them.
Anju sat on the opposite side, observing Shin and Lena with a handheld mirror, a fox-like grin on her face.
“Kurena-chan, Frederica-chan, you really need to learn so self-control. I get it—you don’t like seeing another girl steal your big brother away, but at least let them have today.”
Kurena and Frederica let out muffled protests, either in disagreent or indignation. They probably wanted to say, “He’s not my big brother!” but their complaints were tactfully ignored.
Shin would have done anything to keep the recording of his conversation with Lena after the destruction of the Morpho from ever being heard, but Theo was glad they had. Shin, the God of Death, who fought alongside them and carried their fallen comrades to their final resting place, had been told by the tearful Curator what they had always wanted to say but couldn’t. Because it was for their sake that Shin had borne that burden.
“I’m glad the Colonel didn’t die.”
“Agreed.”
Anju snapped her mirror shut.
“He’ll notice us any mont. Ti to clear out.”
“Fiiine.”
“C-c-confird.”
All the effort Lena had spent on her makeup had been for nothing.
“I’ll re-dye the strand,” Lena said, her voice hitching as she hiccupped.
Shin gave her a faint smile.
“I think that would be best.”
“And I’ll change my uniform too.”
“Yeah.”
“But I’ll keep wearing the black one until a replacent arrives…”
“You could just wear the Federacy one, couldn’t you?”
“No, that’s too…” Lena started to say, but she stopped herself. She had put up with Shin’s antics for so long that she figured it was her turn for a little payback.
“Did it… suit ?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Huh?”
Caught off guard, Shin stared at Lena. Unable to think of an answer, his mouth hung open. Seeing the normally composed and distant Shin flustered like this, Lena couldn’t hold back her laughter.
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