86—EIGHTY-SIX, Vol. 4
CHAPTER 4
TRIAGE
“…Ugh.”
Opening her eyes, she found herself in total darkness. Annette, who was sprawled out haphazardly on the floor, rose to her feet.
Where…am I…?
She looked around, but the darkness was too thick for the naked eye to see anything. She could feel the sensation of concrete against her bare feet. The place didn’t feel suffocating, which meant it was probably a fairly open space.
As she’d been investigating a Legion installation they’d recovered, the Phalanx squadron had been attacked by the Legion and wiped out. The Grauwolf types that had taken them out had closed in on her, and that was all she remembered. The memory made Annette bite her lip.
I’ve been captured by the Legion, then. But why? If this was a Headhunt and they were looking for neural networks to assimilate, the Phalanx squadron’s combat-experienced Processors would be much more valuable to the Legion. If they killed them, why take a noncombatant like me? The weirdness doesn’t end there, though. The tactical HQ was still functioning when they attacked. Why sacrifice the element of surprise and not raid the enemy headquarters?
This isn’t a Headhunt. And they weren’t aiming to diminish the Strike Package’s forces, either. What makes me more valuable than those objectives?
It would have made sense if she’d been an expert in Feldreß development or a developer of some cutting-edge weapon system, but she was a Para-RAID researcher. The Legion could already communicate under the Eintagsfliege’s deployment; they didn’t need her.
No. I don’t know. I don’t have enough information.
She shook her head and got to her feet. For now, she needed to run. She turned and surveyed her surroundings. Her RAID Device had probably fallen off when was taken away. She patted down her lab coat, only to find the pistol she had worn for self-defense was gone, too.
It was a completely unlit space, but after a while, her eyes grew used to the darkness. The place was as large as… No, it was even larger than she’d thought, and she could barely make out the silhouettes of a group of humanoids crouching in a corner. They were likely people. If they were self-propelled mines and didn’t attack her at this distance, they wouldn’t react to her raising her voice, either.
Annette forced her parched throat to speak.
“Hey.”
No reaction.
“Hey. You there. Are you survivors from the Phalanx squadron? Do you know where this is or how we got here…? Hey!”
Still no reaction.
“Let’s put the situation in order.”
The tactical headquarters were thick with suspense after hearing a squadron had been wiped out on the surface, which should have been secure. The Nordlicht squadron, which was in charge of protecting the headquarters, formed a defensive perimeter around them with the reserve Lycaon squadron and spare armored infantry.
Information ran frantically across Vanadis’s main screen as Lena tried her hardest to stifle her anxiety. Frederica bravely reported the situation she “saw” after the Phalanx squadron’s annihilation. Annette was…
“The Phalanx squadron’s annihilation, Professor Henrietta Penrose’s abduction, the presence of humans mixed in with the Legion in the operation area… All of this is accurate, correct?”
“There’s no doubting the last point, Colonel.”
The Spearhead squadron was hidden in one of the automatic factories’ dry docks, silently taking cover behind the massive form of a half-complete Morpho. They’d lowered the anti-fire/anti-flooding shutters so the self-propelled mines and the Grauwolf types’ feeble sensors wouldn’t be able to find them.
Shin spoke from inside Undertaker, which he’d switched over to standby mode.
“I wanted to confirm the gist of how many people were in the operation area and what their infiltration status was, but I’m sorry to say I don’t have time to chat, given the situation.”
It was hard to tell the humans apart when they were mixed in with that many self-propelled mines and Grauwolf types, which was why the squadron had ceased combat and retreated to the depths of the Auto Reproduction type.
Having fought in the Eighty-Sixth Sector—which didn’t have civilians—until now, the Eighty-Six weren’t used to battles in which there were units they weren’t supposed to kill mixed in with the enemy. In a way, the Processors were similar to the Legion in the sense that they normally destroyed everything that wasn’t an ally.
“Judging by how filthy the people and their clothes are, it looks like they were kept in unhygienic conditions for a prolonged period of time… They’re likely survivors of the large-scale offensive.”
“I’m not sure if I’d call ’em survivors, Lady-Killer. More like leftovers. Or maybe raw ingredients would be closer?”
Ceasing all combat, Shiden’s Brísingamen squadron took refuge in an abandoned elevator hall and lowered their shutters. Undoing her flight suit with one hand, Shiden rummaged through the cockpit’s storage compartment.
Unlike when the Eighty-Six had to make do with the Republic’s unused field uniforms, the Federacy provided its Processors with high-performance armored flight suits optimized for operating Feldreß. In addition to being easy to move in, they were highly fire retardant, were shock absorbent, protected somewhat against bullets and knives, and were gravity resistant. They did, however, have one problem.
They were tight around the chest.
Undoing the button to free her breasts from their stranglehold, she heaved a sigh. It was hot. She took a sip from her canteen before pouring the rest over her head and shaking it off like an animal. This heat was from the massive amount of adrenaline secreted from the excessive movement involved with piloting a Juggernaut. She then took out a piece of chocolate from her storage compartment and bit into it.
“Forget filthy, I wouldn’t get anywhere near ’em as they are now. Wouldn’t waste my time talking to ’em, either. They didn’t look sane to me.”
She scoffed, glancing at the closed warehouse door. The “humans” the Brísingamen squadron had encountered were prowling behind it, along with the self-propelled mines and the Grauwolf types.
“Their ages were all different, but each one was equally filthy and insane… Our comrades were one thing, but we didn’t care for pigs that were slow to run away.”
“Slow to run away… You mean from the large-scale offensive last year…”
The Legion didn’t take prisoners…with one exception. Headhunts. They occasionally rounded up the heads of their victims in order to assimilate their neural networks.
“What do we do, Your Majesty…? Try to shelter ’em? I don’t care if the white pigs live or die, but I’ll say it again: They’re not responsive. We can tell them to get away all we want, but they won’t move.”
Lena bit her lip at Shiden’s apathetic question. Telling them to shelter the Alba would be easy. But expecting them to fight while telling the Alba apart from the self-propelled mines in the darkness of the underground labyrinth wasn’t a realistic demand. Enforcing that order would likely result in casualties among the Eighty-Six on the field.
On the other hand, ordering them to fire indiscriminately at humans, even if they were Republic citizens… Just imagining it made her sick. Especially given how some of the Eighty-Six had seen their family and friends killed in a similar manner.
Easily ordering them to commit atrocities would be nothing short of incompetence. A carelessness a commander must never, ever commit.
“…No. There’s no need for our armored squadrons to proactively shelter them.”
Lena could feel the captains become racked with suspense over the Resonance and continued:
“However, there is a way to tell them apart… If you encounter humanoid units, expose them to your fire-control laser sights at maximum output. If they’re humans, they should run away, or at least stop moving. If they don’t react, they’re self-propelled mines.”
She could feel Shin grimacing.
“Depending on how long we expose them to it, it could result in severe burns at the very least.”
“…Yes. But it’s preferable to gunning them down.”
A Feldreß’s—a Juggernaut’s—fire-control system employed an invisible laser beam that functioned as its sights and range finder, and a laser was a convergence of energy with directivity. Exposing it to one’s eyes could result in blindness, while exposure to the skin could cause it to heat up and burn. Even if the Alba weren’t sane, their sense of pain would likely still be intact. Pain was an organism’s alarm bell, spurring one to actively evade and run away. The Legion had instruments that would detect exposure to lasers, but they had neither a sense of pain nor the intelligence to understand and mimic what happened to humans when they were exposed to lasers.
“It may expose your positions, but the self-propelled mines can only fight in an extremely short range anyway. It shouldn’t influence combat. Leave the sheltering of any humans who run away to the armored infantry… But please try not to have them scatter too far.”
“Roger.”
“However…”
She cut into his response, which was as steeped in apathy as she’d expected it to be.
“…that doesn’t apply in situations that may prove fatal. Apply swift judgment and remove any threats before you without hesitation.”
Ordering the Eighty-Six to take losses in the name of Republic civilians was the one thing she could never order them to do.
“Likewise, with regards to Professor Henrietta Penrose…”
She could feel a tight sensation in her chest. She was dizzy. Lena feared the words she was about to utter. They’d skipped grades together, and each had been the only friend the other had had around the same age. They’d quarreled two years ago regarding the Spearhead squadron’s treatment and had hurt each other, but in the end, Annette had still helped reconfigure Lena’s RAID Device.
During the large-scale offensive, Annette had taken command of units and fought by her side. She was a dear friend to her. Her one and only…best friend. But she couldn’t expose her subordinates…her Processors and the armored infantry loaned to her, just for her…
“Prioritize completing the mission. Now that the Phalanx squadron has been taken out by an unidentified attack, splitting up our forces to look for her and placing our units under risk of being taken out individually…is a risk we can’t afford to take.”
She’d thought about sending in the Lycaon squadron, which was waiting on standby, but considering the four squadrons already deployed might encounter unforeseen problems, she couldn’t afford shifting any forces for Annette’s sake.
“Colonel…”
“I’m not abandoning her, Captain Nouzen. If any of our squadrons go in deep enough, they should be able to rescue her then. However…if we don’t make it in time, there isn’t much we can do.”
Even if that meant leaving Annette to be cruelly dismembered. After a silence of several seconds, Shin spoke again.
“…Colonel. The Spearhead squadron and I will move to Major Penrose’s rescue.”
“Captain Nouzen…?!”
“We may not know the enemy’s method of attack, but they’re still Legion. In that case, I should be able to avoid engagement as I advance. My chances of encountering the Legion along the way are lower.”
“But…”
“You’re thinking about how you can’t let us Eighty-Six die for Republic citizens, aren’t you?”
As he pointed out Lena’s concerns accurately, his quiet voice was racked with concern.
“I don’t understand
why
you can’t separate yourself from the Republic, Colonel, but I do understand that regardless of the reason, you simply can’t. You think these sins are your own because you’re a citizen of that country. But that doesn’t mean you have to pretend you’re as coldhearted as the Republic, Colonel.”
You don’t have to act the part of the Bloodstained Queen who fights with no one by her side.
“So don’t force yourself to do things you shouldn’t have to… I’ll say it again. It doesn’t suit you, Colonel.”
“……”
“I’ll leave subjugating the Admiral to the Brísingamen and Thunderbolt squadrons. We’ll have to split up our forces as you feared, but this shouldn’t cut into our search time.”
Shiden let out a chuckle.
“You sure you’re cool with that? You’d just be handing me a win.”
“Take it. Now isn’t the time for pissing contests.”
“I know—I’m kidding… Leave it to me.”
Frederica then said:
“Shinei, I’ve been keeping track of the general area where Penrose was taken. If I compare it with the map, I should be capable of pinpointing her exact location. I will show you the way, so focus on evading the Legion to the best of your ability.”
“…Close your ‘eyes’ if things get dangerous.”
“Apologies in advance, but I may take you up on that… As unpleasant as it is to say, I would much rather not bear witness to her being picked apart.”
“Rito, we can leave taking out the Weisel to you while we’re searching for her, right?”
“Yep, no problem, Cap’n.”
Lena frowned. As a commander, she had to withstand the emotions welling up from within. “…Thank you so much…”
Shin’s only response was silence, while Frederica snorted before adding:
“A final question… Aside from the Phalanx squadron’s annihilation, no one else has been attacked in a similar manner, correct?”
“Nope.”
“We haven’t seen anything, either.”
“So only I saw it…”
Shin asked,
“Frederica, can you explain what happened back there?”
His question carried the implicit intent that it was fine if she couldn’t explain it…or rather, didn’t wish to remember. She’d borne witness to a squadron of twenty-four people, whose names and faces she knew, getting ruthlessly overrun one after another. It was a consideration one would naturally make toward a child only barely over the age of ten.
Frederica shook her head, though.
“My apologies—I know not the details. Juggernauts were being crushed left and right before I even knew what was happening… To the very end, I did not see what manner of attack it was.”
“How were they killed?”
“Captain Nouzen, how can you ask something so bluntly…?!”
“I do not mind, Milizé. It is because I can aid them with my power that I am by Shinei’s side. I’ve a great debt to repay.”
Frederica heaved a sigh.
“But as easy as that may be to say… Yes.”
Frederica’s red eyes clouded over with recollection as she earnestly tried to put what she’d seen into words.
“Aina, the first to be defeated, was suddenly split in half. Despite the absence of hostiles in her vicinity, the Juggernaut was cut right down the middle of the cockpit… I would assume she died instantly.”
“Maybe it was sniped by a large-caliber cannon…?”
It seemed likely, given it had been destroyed without any enemies around. But Frederica shook her head.
“Aina stood within a building surrounded by Juggernauts. It would be exceptionally difficult to find a line of fire to snipe that position, no matter where one was to take aim from… Perhaps a sniper of Kurena’s skill would be capable of such a feat.”
“It would be hard to split a Juggernaut in two with a projectile weapon to begin with. I think chances of this being a snipe are slim.”
A 30 cm APFSDS’s penetration marks were relatively small, as were a high-explosive anti-tank warhead’s, with its metal jet. It was doubtful it could even split the Republic’s walking coffin in half. But this wasn’t to say Shin came up with an answer. It seemed he was thinking ardently and only speaking so as to put everything in order. But in the end, he couldn’t come up with anything and fell silent.
Realizing that any further discussion would only be conjecture, Lena drew a conclusion based on what they knew so far.
“…We must place maximum priority on collecting information regarding said attack. Should you run into a similar attack, avoid combat as much as possible and retreat at once.”
“Roger.”
“Roger that.”
She called out time after time, but the human figures didn’t react to her voice. Annette fell silent, feeling a sense of dread creep over her. Seeing how the lines of their shoulders moved up and down as they breathed, she realized they were likely humans after all and weren’t dead. This group of fellow humans simply breathed, powerlessly, weakly.
The sound of her heels clicking against the floor was a problem in this situation. Kicking her shoes away, she walked across the floor wearing only stockings on her feet. The door had an electronic lock on it, but thankfully it was an old type, a type that could be fooled by any kind of thin, card-like object. Twisting the knob over and over, she took a random card out of her coat’s pocket and passed it through the reader. The simple mechanism gave an electronic beep as it easily yielded.
Gently pushing the metallic door open, she peeked through the crack… There was nothing there. It seemed the Legion didn’t feel much need to guard such helpless prey. And honestly, there likely wasn’t any need to do so. They weren’t bound in any way, but this confinement was more than enough to keep those who wouldn’t move of their own volition contained.
As she looked back, the other prisoners didn’t so much as stir. She called out to the group standing at the head of them:
“Hey, let’s get out of here… We should be able to escape now.”
But as expected, she got no reply.
Shaking her head, Annette slipped through the door’s crack with catlike dexterity. The heavy door closed on its own the moment she let go of it, and the sound of the lock clicking echoed softly. Shaking off the hard sound that almost seemed to criticize her for abandoning someone again, she walked on. At first, she moved cautiously, but eventually she sped up into a light jog.
The long, long corridor was spacious and comfortably wide, and its ceiling was low, as was typical of the underground. She could make out the dim white ornamental floor tiles even in the darkness, and there were silver shutters with elaborate designs lowered to the left and right. Farther in were stylish storefronts competing against one another in beauty throughout this uninhabited, abandoned space.
She was in a shopping mall.
It was probably—or rather, without a doubt—the commerce facility within the Charité Underground Labyrinth. She advanced down the wide walkways, grappling with the fear of falling into a Legion ambush. The walkways were full of gentle curves and were designed to allow plenty of customers to walk through easily, which created many blind spots. Clinging to the shadows, she desperately sought the staircase that would take her to the surface.
When she saw
that
near a distant wall, she jogged over. As she did, she listened closely, making sure to stay wary of the sound of anything approaching her. None of the Legion, not even the Dinosauria with its hundred tons of weight, made a sound with their footsteps. But in this complete and utter silence, there was no way of moving without making some kind of noise.
Standing with her back to
that
, which looked like a round pillar of some ancient sanctum, she stood in place and looked up to where that person should be. The Phalanx squadron had been attacked on the surface despite the battlefield having been presumed to be only underground. There was a chance the tactical headquarters—where Lena and the others were—had been attacked and wiped out as well, but she had to gamble on them being unharmed.
“Don’t lose sight of me… I’m begging you…”
Because inside Vanadis was Frederica—the girl with the ability to see the past and present of anyone she knew.
“Good. She seems to be unharmed.”
Frederica’s crimson eyes shone faintly as she stared into space. Sitting completely still—her appearance as lovely and put together as always—she seemed mystical and majestic and at the same time entirely foreign when placed in contrast with the armored command vehicle and its cutting-edge technology.
It was like divine possession, as if she were a holy priestess speaking the will of the gods. Solemn and grave. Staring through empty space into some unknowable place with her eyes completely blank, Frederica grimaced.
“You’ve quite the tenacity, running up as far as you did… However, what is it that you’re doing there, Penrose? Wandering around as you are.”
Frederica knit her adorable brows in momentary thought, then her eyes widened as she grinned in understanding.
“Ah, you smart girl, you. You stopped before the information board,
knowing I might be gazing upon you…
Shinei.”
He replied by nodding silently over the Resonance.
“I have a grasp on Penrose’s whereabouts. Head there as fast as you can.”
“—Confirmed. The fourth level’s eastern commercial block, huh?”
Confirming the map data he’d received, Shin turned Undertaker’s bearing. Annette’s current location was presented in red, and the shortest route there was highlighted. He could hear Lena speaking over the Juggernaut’s loud operation noise.
“We’ve set the route based on the enemy’s distribution and their presumed advance patterns, but it’s only speculation. You should change paths and take detours if you deem it necessary, Captain.”
“Roger… But it looks like the current recommended route should be fine.”
He replied after confirming the Legion’s current status. It seemed Lena had the three-dimensional structure of the map memorized and was shifting the movements of her units and the enemy in her mind in real time. It would be one thing if it were on a planar surface, but Shin had trouble believing she could handle everything on a three-dimensional battlefield where units moved constantly.
This was a skill Lena had gained precisely because she’d spent so long commanding from a distant control room, where she’d had to rely on fragmentary information from the battlefield covered by the Eintagsfliege’s jamming. It made Shin wonder what kind of fighting Lena had seen in the Republic ever since the Special Reconnaissance mission two years ago. Suddenly, he realized he had absolutely no idea.
And that was because he’d never asked. No one, himself included, had ever thought to ask Lena about that. Lena, on the other hand, seemed to want to ask all sorts of questions. She must have had…a lot on her mind.
“…Mm.”
Confirming the recommended path on his sub-screen and the actual route he saw through the main screen, Shin paused Undertaker’s advance. Shin’s ability enabled him to accurately monitor the Legion’s condition, and Lena’s ability to keep track of the war situation was also impressive. But situations like these often occurred on the battlefield nonetheless.
There were errors on the map.
The recommended route pointed them to a service route meant for maintenance purposes—a cramped, thin corridor large enough to allow only one person to pass through.
“There’s no path forward…? That can’t be.”
“To be exact, there’s no path that a
Juggernaut
can pass through. It’s only natural, since this place wasn’t built to accommodate Feldreß.”
Shin’s voice over the Resonance didn’t seem to mind it much. Mistaken information was likely a common occurrence on the battlefield he knew—but for Lena, his report was a bitter pill to swallow.
It shouldn’t have been possible. This map data’s last update had been right after the facility’s latest repair and maintenance work. Mistaken map data could lead to lost lives in the subway tunnels, where visibility was obstructed and routes one could move along were limited, so Lena had made sure to confirm it as carefully as she could, yet still…
A cold suspicion crossed her mind.
It couldn’t be that the map is…?
The map had been provided to them by
the Republic’s interim government
… The interim government that was now infiltrated by the Bleachers, who desired the return and restoration of the Eighty-Six. And as she looked at it more carefully, she saw that said service route was supposed to be meant for carrying equipment, according to the map, but compared to the layout of the place, it blatantly didn’t seem to fit with the other pathways and railway tracks in terms of depth.
It can’t be.
“Roger that. Look for a detour from said route… Second Lieutenant Marcel, could you analyze this map of the combat area and try to find any discrepancies with the structure?”
Turning off the Para-RAID halfway through, she addressed the control officer sitting in the front seat ahead of her. This young man, who was the same age as Shin and his group and had the same special officer training as them, glanced at her and nodded lightly.
“…It’ll take me some time, but probably.”
“Then please do. This is top priority, so have it done as soon as possible.”
“Roger that.”
Frederica suddenly raised her face.
“Mm, not good! Shinei, you must hurry!”
She stood up and shouted, without even noticing she was doing so:
“Run, Penrose! You mustn’t stay there!”
Whoever had planned out this underground facility must have been a true idiot. She’d finally found a staircase that seemed as if it might lead her up, but after she climbed what felt like a whole floor’s worth of stairs, it turned into a one-way descent and led her to a different sector of the same floor. She knew she was lucky enough not being down in the subway tunnels, but this weird game of tag was grinding on her nerves.
Annette looked around in annoyance. Her lab coat was trailing at her feet, so she took it off and draped it over her arm. In a complete turnaround from where she’d been before, the sector she was in right now looked to be some kind of factory. She was in a clean room or some kind of operating room: a dim, borderline-sterilized white space.
It didn’t look anything like the station or its associated facilities. The Legion had probably repaired and rebuilt this section after occupying Charité. It was an elongated place, and Annette couldn’t make out the other end of the room, but deeper inside was what looked like a scanning device, along with a group of small beds set up in a rectangular shape, with thin robotic arms dangling from the ceiling toward them.
Aside from the staircase, there was also a cramped corridor that looked to be a service route and a broader path that was likely used by the visiting customers. Along the broad path were marks left by something that had been dragged away, as well as countless scrapes and footprints. As she stood in front of the transparent wall partitioning where she was from the machinery, Annette’s gaze fell on a cluster of things arranged in neat rows.
“……?”
They were cylindrical glass containers, big enough to hold Annette with her in a standing position. Several of them were lined up in an orderly fashion, like display cases in a museum. They were filled with some kind of transparent liquid. The pedestals inside were illuminated by an artificial white glow that revealed the floating contents. Nothing was connected to them but the electrical cords that lit them up, and since there were no bubbles rising up in the liquid, she could tell that no oxygen was being pumped in, either. In other words, whatever was inside the cylinders wasn’t alive.
She recognized the silhouettes of the contents but couldn’t properly identify them… No, she thought she knew, but she couldn’t for the life of her understand what it meant. She stepped forward and peered inside…
…!
This is…!
The moment she realized what was inside the cylinders, she felt all the blood drain from her face. She’d gone pale, but the calm, calculated part of her that was a scientist couldn’t help but observe it with great detail.
There were multiples of the same thing… No, there were several samples of the same thing gathered up. They were gradually organized by how much work had been put into each one, and there were several…
several people’s
worth in there. The Legion didn’t use numbers. There were no notes to explain this anywhere. But still she knew.
This was…
Something then looked at her from the other side of the cylinder. As Annette froze in place, the humanoid shape on the other side of the cylinder swayed. Its reflection moved with a delay as its clumsy movements, which seemed to come straight out of a horror movie, made Annette jump back in fright.
The self-propelled mine crept over in pursuit of her. Its faceless globe of a head writhed like an insect, swerving in her direction. Gazing at Annette with its eyeless visage, it suddenly hopped nimbly at her the next moment like a spring.
“No…!”
In a stroke of luck, she remembered the lab coat she had draped over her arm. She threw it in a panic, and it fortunately spread out and covered the self-propelled mine’s head-mounted sensor unit. The blinded self-propelled mine could only fumble about pathetically as Annette cowered away with unsteady steps.
Its head rattled in what were almost comical movements as it tried to remove the coat covering it, but the self-propelled mine’s hands couldn’t move as precisely as a human’s. It looked as if it couldn’t get the pesky fabric off. This was her chance to escape…!
She was in a state of panic, fearing for her life, but that same fear froze her limbs. As she tried desperately to run, her legs stiffened against her will and her heels sank into a seam in the floor, making her topple over in a spectacular fashion. Her back had apparently hit the part of the transparent wall that corresponded with the door, because it opened inward without much resistance, causing her to tumble into the room back first.
All manner of things crossed her spinning field of vision as she fell. This overly sterilized white space. The row of glass cases. The medical-looking scanning device. The table roughly the size and height of a cramped bed…made of easily cleanable metal. And the group of robotic arms above it, equipped with glinting blades.
This was…
…an operating table.
Yes.
This was a
dissection room
.
A sharp sound blared out from the wall, rebounding off the glass door and causing her to freeze up. The self-propelled mine, which still had its optical sensor covered, raised its head at the sudden noise. Annette, who had fallen on her back, couldn’t move yet. The self-propelled mine got up, its body turning intently in her direction…
…when the sound of something whistling through the air reached her ears.
Something swung down like a hammer from behind the self-propelled mine, bashing it across the back of its head.
It was an assault rifle’s gunstock, drawing a silver arc through the air. The collapsible-gunstock rifle given to Feldreß operators swung down on the weakly connected part of the self-propelled mine’s head with perfect accuracy, violently slamming into its head-mounted sensor unit.
Unlike a bladed weapon, even women and children could use firearms, but the assault rifle’s weight made it heavier than most melee weapons. Especially a 7.62 mm assault rifle, made entirely of metal, that packed a weight of nearly five kilograms when loaded.
The self-propelled mine, which was only slightly heavier than a human, was knocked away. It took two or three unsteady steps forward, its wobbling head’s sensor unit wavering as it tried to readjust it bearings. By that time, though, the assault rifle’s muzzle was already pointed its way. Lightly and easily, as if it were a handgun, the rifle was aimed and fired without mercy.
Three bullets pierced the control module in the self-propelled mine’s chest. The shock waves from being hit rattled it—causing it to perform a peculiar dance before it crumpled to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. Lowering the smoking barrel, Shin looked over the remains of his enemy as Annette—still on the floor—watched him with a stupefied expression.
…When was it again? Back when she was little? She would go out to explore with her childhood friend only to lose sight of him and get lost. Annette would huddle beneath cover, not knowing where she was, and the boy would look for her, finding her after it had already gotten dark.
Found you, Rita!
Smiling as he always did, he would sneak up on her with footsteps that made no noise, just like his brother’s and father’s. She remembered his father once telling her it was because they were originally from a clan in the Empire tasked with guarding the emperor. He’d said he hoped that in this country, they wouldn’t have to teach their children how to fight and kill anyone.
His wish would never be granted. And for the worst possible reason, at that.
So even in military boots, with their hard soles, Shin’s footsteps were inaudible. But although that was no different from before, his hands were now used to handling firearms. Cold eyes. A virile form that fit the steel-blue flight suit he was wearing perfectly.
Annette finally came to fully realize that everything was completely different now—the childhood friend she’d once known was long gone. What had happened back then and how she’d felt at the time were things that, at this point, existed only within her heart. If one were to search within Shin’s heart for what had happened back then, one wouldn’t find the girl he’d once known. But she still uttered his name, almost automatically.
Shin.
“…Captain Nouzen.”
She thought she could feel his crimson eyes turn toward her. But in the next moment, he turned away, probably because someone else was approaching them. She could hear the sound of their military boots. The figure that appeared had an Eisen’s reddish-black hair and eyes and was clad in the Federacy’s flight suit. That was First Lieutenant Shuga, if she recalled correctly.
“Fucking hell, man. Can’t you just shoot it like a normal person?”
“Hitting it is faster in this kind of encounter. Besides, if I shot blindly, I might have hit the professor.”
A 7.62 mm’s full-size rifle rounds were extremely lethal as antipersonnel weapons. Even if one didn’t hit a person’s head or torso, it could still easily kill depending on where it hit. It seemed Shin had been careful for that reason.
“Are you all right, Major Penrose?”
Contrary to the content of his question, his tone sounded utterly indifferent. Annette found herself frowning reflexively.
“…Isn’t it obvious?! I was seconds away from death just now!”
“Well, from the look of things, you’re not dead. You should be fine if you have energy to talk back,” replied Shin, a hint of exasperation in his features.
They hadn’t had this kind of rough exchange since they were children—but everything was different now.
“…Shin.”
This time, she intently called his name, and it slipped through her lips without resistance. As far as he was concerned, she was a total stranger now. But she at least had to say this much.
“I’m sorry.”
For abandoning you. For not saving you. For doing nothing and for making excuses that there was nothing I could do. For making you worry over things you can’t remember and getting you selfishly involved with my atonement.
“……?”
Shin blinked, puzzled by the sudden apology. He gazed at Annette for a moment like a hunting dog that had been given an order it couldn’t comprehend, and then he looked away.
“I’m not sure what you’re sorry about…”
His voice was so deep it didn’t even remotely match the voice from her memories, and while he had once been the same height as her, he’d gotten much taller than her at some point.
“…but as far as I’m concerned, there’s no reason for you to apologize to me… So don’t worry about it, Major Penrose.”