| Insanity Unleashed |

In the dog days of time, the beasts of aggression turned and bit the master's hand. An illogical war was thrust into reality's lap, with it's rules unknown to all and the payoff nonexistent.

From various key journal entries and audio logs from those that participated in this war, the fog of war from this conflicting time period when the ill incubator, Anbey, conscripted Humanity and marched on his own planet, is shredded apart to reveal the true facts. Some scenes are guesswork, some entries have been edited, but everything is taken from the first hand accounts.

"Yeeaaa!" 1st Lieutenant Sayaka Miki screamed, swinging her sword down like a lumberjack's axe.
"I don't understand humans. Where are her reinforcements? What does she hope to accomplish?" one soldier spoke to no one in particular, facing Sayaka with weapon raised. Its unblinking eyes gleamed cherry red, a feline smile etched onto its face like a tree's hump. Having vanquished one foe, she turned to the next in order, eyes clothed in cold blood. All she saw was red. Red dead. Dead red. Red yet to be dead. Soon to be dead red.
Purple plasma assaulted her bodily temple, exploding masonry and blood out in a quasi-exit wound in reverse akin to a solar flare. This meant nothing to her, she didn't feel any pain; all she felt was serenity. Absolute. Complete. A grave's serenity, the most potent.
Just like an insane harpy Sayaka screamed and flew. The narrowness of the trench allowed her enemies to always be in view, always in reach, but the principle was the same for them. The enemy fell back, shooting as they went, staying out of Sayaka's reach. However she proved too fast, catching up and slicing one into eighths in heartbeats. It went down with no sound, no screams of pain, its comrades continued to fall back with no vengeance swearing; only the soft discharging of their guns. What cold efficiency, Sayaka would have thought if she still thought rationally.
She went after the others, like a screaming blur cutting down silent, muscular machines with permanent smiles. Mad Sayaka. The Blue Berserker. Witchblade. She fulfilled all those names with honors. Any sword dancer that bore witness to her attacks that evening would have cried from such beauty. No wasted movement, no loss of speed. Sayaka Miki was writing reality in strokes and blood. Blood levels escalated with the body count as she chopped her way from end to end, negating the enemy's presence there with the flash of her swings.

She stood there, slight tremors coursing through her arms, hands grasping the swords dripping with the ichor of the dead with zombie might. Redness pooled around her ankles, red droplets fell from her and joined their brethren. Who knew an incubator body held such a volume. Sayaka breathed deep.

Sanity restored, she stared at the handiwork of a harvest thresher. Chunks of raw meat laid about in piles, as carpets, or clutching guns. What did she wake up to? What happened here? Who or what could do this? Her last memory was... yes, looking at and listening to various reports when...
Crunch. The noise pierced the air like a pindrop. She whipped her gaze to the source, unable to see past her blood heavy bangs.
"It's us, 1st Lieutenant! It's the 117th Musketeers! You're among friends, you can be at ease. She's over here!" The soldier yelled out to the others before dropping down into the gory trench.
"Wha-what happened?" She asked, uncertain of her own voice.
"Good entropy!" A soldier hissed, seeing the wanton destruction.
"Here, Ma'am, my handkerchief." Someone handed her a handkerchief. People jumped down into the trench. Splashes, curses, and trudging filled the ears of everyone present. Sayaka wiped her bangs back and cleaned her face, then handed the handkerchief back; it wasn't white anymore. "Again, what happened?" Saucer helmets, dull green fatigues and vests, chiseled jaws, clear eyes and five o'clock shadows, armed friendlies; a list of items considered reassuring on this hellish planet.
"You charged the enemy line without any backup or plans." The trench wasn't the basic variety of one, the walls were boarded up with wood, but the floor, if you saw it past the meat and broth, was more of a ground, composed solely of dirt. In this case, mud.
"Holy Helena, did you leave any for us?" Sayaka stared at the speaker, who was admiring the river of death with shock, before going back to the one she was talking to.
"I charged this trench system with no backup? That doesn't sound like me."
"Which surprised us, but I guess there's a first for everythin- Ma'am, you're bleeding." He pointed at her torso. Sayaka examined herself. There were numerous holes, here and there, that leaked her blood.
"We need to escort you back." The soldier pointed at three random soldiers that just got their boots wet, giving them orders. Sayaka was dazed. So many wounds, how did she continue to stand? How come there was no pain? And how come she felt so empty inside?
"Ma'am, these three will see to it that you arrive safely at the medic's tent. I'll stay here and check for hostiles." He saluted. Sayaka nodded.
"Stay on your toes. Something monstrous may be lurking here."
"R-right." He murmured as he joined the others.
"Ma'am! Please follow us!" One soldier, a young man with bright eyes, a clean shave, still with a measure of innocence and optimism composing his features, stepped up with a warm smile.
"Right. Lead on, soldier."
"Ma'am!" The four climbed out.

Orange light pricked her eyes. It wasn't something she got used to. When evening landed, everything captured the sun's rays and glowed. Only their tents didn't glow or reflect any light, absorbing it all like some parasite.
It was peak mid evening, around 1800, and the three soldiers with their CO were walking into base. No discussion was held, Sayaka too busy analyzing what had happened to talk, as they made their way to the tent of medical healing.
Stepping inside, the smell of blood, waste, antiseptic, and the sound of moaning overpowered their senses. Several rows of cots, many of them with a damaged body, filled the interior. Blazing lanterns hung at key spots for maximum light on retractable metal poles.
A man with salt and pepper hair in a blood stained white coat pulled a dirty white blanket over a limp body. Four others shared a similar fate.
"Hey, Doc, we have a patient for you."
"Bring him over to a cot, any will do, and lay him ou- Time is the essence here! Bring her over here now." The doctor grew tense. The 1st Lieutenant this badly hurt? How? What happened? He kicked himself into overdrive, gathering all of his instruments - all of them - into a tray.
"I think she will need the operating table."
"No, I don't. Just wrap me up in gauze, I'll be fine."
"But have you looked -"
"That's an order." Sayaka and the doctor glared at one another like mortal enemies. A contest of wills had initiated. The first to blink would submit. The winner would have bragging rights. The doctor blinked, then sighed with a shrug. "You know your limits." He put everything back, replacing the previous heap of steel with one of white cloth wrap.
"You two, go back to the trench and bolster our might there. They just might need you two."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
"And you," Sayaka turned to the young soldier. "Go to my command tent and report to H.Q. what has happened."
"Yes, Ma'am!" He saluted and left. That left bloody Sayaka with the wounded, and the loser doctor.

Sayaka stripped down to the waist, tossing her heavy with blood clothing on a cot. Usually when a young female stripped the guys would catcall, but this wasn't a normal situation. The guys were too concerned with their own wounds, or were shocked to see her still alive. The doctor didn't care.
"Just wrap you up?" He asked, laying the tray on a cot.
"Like a mummy." She replied, raising her arms to make it easier for the doctor to tend to her wounds.

He did just that. He wrapped her up good, making it hard for Sayaka to breath. It took him a while to patch her up, layer after layer of gauze had to be applied before the blood stopped seeping through; all the while muttering 'You shouldn't be alive. You shouldn't be breathing, let alone standing, with this many holes." But alive she was.
Sayaka remembered what happened before the trench. She was reading her company's reports on the trenchline that had been stalling them - they should be pillaging the city with Lieutenant Colonel Tomoe's squad right now - trying to find a weakness to exploit when the radio came to life. Kyoko Sakura was shot down, assistance was requested. Kyoko, her friend, her buddy, possibly dead. The memory brought her dangerously close to losing her cool again, but Sayaka bit it back. She'll go visit her later. Yes, that was right, she'll go see her later.
"Ma'am."
"Yes?" Sayaka came back to reality from her thoughts at that young man's voice. Her eyes, once murky, sprang to springwater life. The young soldier saluted before continuing.
"H.Q. has been notified of the situation and has ordered you to report in at the Helena, immediately. Now, Ma'am." "Wow, you hear that, Doc?" Sayaka's eyes swiveled up to the doctor's direction.
"Sure did. you're almost done, so stay put." The doctor's voice was full of concentrated effort.
"Soldier, what's your name?" She gazed again at the young soldier.
"Ibram, Ma'am."
"Ibram, go fetch a jeep and bring it back here."
"Ma'am!" A snap, crack, pop salute and a crisp turn, the boy disappeared.
"You're done. Excuse me, there are other patients here." The doctor hurried away, his intent on the others clear to behold.
"Of course, Doctor, thanks for tending to me." Sayaka dressed in the bloody clothes, still hollow inside and unburdened by pain. When she stepped out, the doctor was covering another poor soul. A minute later Ibram came to a halt in front of her with the requested vehicle.
"To Helena, and step on it."

The Helena, or the Dearest Helena to the ill High Commander, was a starship. Once she belonged to the incubators, she now was the proud flagship for the Entropy Liberation Army. With a hammerhead harboring a mighty cannon, a narrow neck connecting it to a slim body that had a medium sized engine jutting from each side, she brought awe to anyone who looked at her. Sayaka Miki was no exception. She often wondered why they didn't use Helena but never spoke it freely.
At the base Sayaka told Ibram to stay put, and looked up at Helena. It was darkening now, and the lights of the cannon and windows grew more pronounced, the metal growing less so. She was teleported up. After the blue particles blinked away and the slight nausea smoothed out, Sayaka snapped a salute to the two present. They were taken aback by the zombie saluting them but once they recognized the cape and swords they saluted back. She gave up her swords and followed one crewmember when prompted.
On the way to the High Commander's ready room, Sayaka looked at everything. It had been a long spell since she saw anything this clean and bright. White lights, gunmetal grey walls, doors that opened when you neared, the perfect temperature and pressure; it was so much better than that planet. Not a speck of blood anywhere! And here she was, with bloodied bandages that occasionally dropped blood on the floor, seeping wounds, clothing that were three times their weight thanks to their blood retention; she really didn't look ready to meet the High Commander.
The upside down bullet shaped elevator shot them to the bridge just like that, a bullet. The ensign - one shiny gold pip on his immaculate black velvet collar - had a hard time keeping his eyes away from the blood golem standing at his right flank; like a statue, leaving blood wherever she went. The door opened, the two stepped out to be engulfed by the ambiance of the bridge.

A library's hush, blinking lights, electric gerbils squealing, a body at every station. Sayaka knew in her gut how important this room was. It was the ship's brain.
"Right this way," the ensign whispered. The two walked across the bridge, no noise echoed their steps but a few heads did turn her way and gazed in alarm. They descended a few steps and stopped before a door, where the ensign depressed a button. A bell chimed.
"Come in." A strong feminine voice answered. The door opened with both egressing into the dimly lit room.
"Here is 1st Lieutenant Miki as per instructions." The ensign announced.
"Very good. You're dismissed."
"Sir." With that the ensign clicked his feet and left, leaving Sayaka with the High Commander. The High Commander tsk'd at the ensign's choice of pronoun.

Inside the the High Commander's ready room. What an honor! Sayaka's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. No white lights in here, only warm lights that left many dark patches around the room. unlike the medical tent, the lighting in here was for mood than anything else. From what was illuminated the room was warm, welcoming; entirely human. The richly colored wood made up the walls, desk, and even some of the chairs. A few chairs were scattered further in the room, expensive and aged. Portraits of things beyond her understanding lined the walls, their glass faces mirroring polar opposites. A square window vented a view to the outside; it was darkening quickly now, the dark blues and coal blacks smearing the land like oil. A desk stood colossal between her and Anbey. A green shaded banker's lamp poured light on some pieces of paper, a corner of something Sayaka didn't recognize, a radio, and Anbey herself.
"Tell me what happened, Miki Sayaka." Anbey leaned forward, showing herself for Sayaka's benefit. White hair rooted in her scalp, cherry red eyes with dark red irises, white gloves and a high-grade black leather military uniform with a solid wall of medals pinned to her left breast. The very model of a High Commander.
"Don't you already know? I ordered someone to report in as soon as I returned."
"I want to hear you report it in your own words."
"Ma'am," Sayaka saluted. Anbey didn't tsk at her. "According to my men I charged the enemy trenchlines by myself, and, from there, I, or something, butchered everyone there." Anbey's eyes widened a fraction.
"You just charged them all alone?"
"Yes, yes I did."
"No stratagem?"
"None."
"Amazing." Anbey whispered, taking the information in. Sayaka's bloodied state certainly did back up what she said. "Just so you know, the 117th reported in before you came to my room, they report all is clear of unknown and known hostiles. Good job! You broke the stalemate, now we can march forward with renewed vigor!" A slasher's smile loomed, white ivory teeth showing.
"Thank you, Ma'am." Sayaka spoke, snapping to attention a bit more. Anbey searched her desk's drawers while muttering 'medals' over and over again until she found them.
"The Red Star Blossom medal is yours for performing above and beyond your duties, and for solving a major headache." Anbey stood, walked around her desk, and pinned the medal - shaped like a red star with a flower blooming in the middle attached to a scarlet ribbon - on Sayaka's chest. It glinted dim pride.
Sayaka saw more of Anbey. Her white hair traveled down her backside, stopped just above her feet's soles. Two gold rings floated behind her knees, both with her hair in the middle. This was the most obvious sign she was an incubator. Her chest was a cliff, which complimented her figure more than harmed it.
"There, all pinned." Anbey breathed, their faces close enough to kiss. Eyes locked. Sayaka's body screamed that the only future of this moment was where she would be seduced by Anbey. She waited for it to happen.
The feeling died when Anbey made her way back to her chair.
"You're dismissed. Go catch some rest, you've earned it."
"M-Ma'am!" Sayaka stuttered, saluted, and turned to the door. She felt she failed a test, but also managed to dodge a bullet; it was a strange mixture.

Depressing the button opened the door where the ensign waited to escort Sayaka back to the teleporter room. The trip back was silent, Sayaka bled less, and the traces she left on the way in were gone. She retrieved her bloody swords and saluted, beaming down to the jeep. Ibram drove her back, making little small talk. Sayaka felt tired, and sad. Over herself, over Kyoko. She wondered if her friend survived, or died. Was she in the morgue, or the hospital? Recovering, or resting in peace? She blinked some tears away. She must remain strong in front of her men. They looked up to her, after all.

It was already well into nighttime when they got back to base. Small campfires dotted the encampment. Stepping out of the jeep, Sayaka dismissed young Ibram, and wandered toward her personal tent without looking back. On the way people talked to her, remarked on her new medal, some even suggested Witchblade as a moniker for her. It appeared everyone was back from the trenches. Although they were on guard, the mood felt lighter. The soldiers were happy the stalemate was gone, just like High Commander Anbey.
Sayaka laughed, exchanged a few words, listened; acted like a caring, socialable leader would have. It was hard, but she managed to pull it off.
Inside her tent she didn't bother changing her uniform, diving straight in to writing in her journal. At first stroke she was fine, when more sentences appeared her emotions surged until, when there were paragraphs, she flung herself away from the journal in mid sentence. Tears in her worried eyes, Sayaka raced out to the eastern frontline, to where she was. She would see Kyoko's state with her own eyes.

"When the madness cleared, the red sight vanished and all movement ceased, I found myself in a trench of horrors. Ankle deep blood, diced meat in various configurations, two red swords in my redder hands; what did I wake up to? Last memory I had before that was me sitting in my command tent, reading on the trench and listening to reports from other parts of the frontline, when I heard that, yes, Kyoko Sakura was down. Possibly KIA, medical assistance and reinforcements requested. That scene, then red, then that trench.
My men found me down there, covered head to toe in ichor and wounds. They told me I charged the enemy alone. That's not me. That's not me. I don't make rash decisions, let alone suicidal ones. It took the doctor a while to patch me up, the entire time telling me I should be dead. Maybe I am, and I don't know it?
High Commander Anbey congratulated me on my impromptu rage after expressing amazement at the very same. I broke the stalemate she said, now we can march forward with renewed vigor. I was awarded the Red Star Blossom medal. Something odd occurred afterwards between me and her. I'm not too sure, though.
Excuse me, Journal, I have to see a friend. May kami-sama have"

- From the Journal of 1st Lieutenant Sayaka "Witchblade" Miki Commander of the 117th Musketeers

Transcript begins at 00:00:00; ends at 00:06:48.

Click!

"... I almost raped Miki Sayaka. Interesting. She was so bloody, and all the voices were screaming 'Rape Her!' I became very horny all of a sudden... wait, is this on? FUCK! It i-"

Click!

Wrrrrrr

Click!

Click!

[Faintly a french war song played. The words aren't loud enough to be captured. Research indicates it is called 'Aria']

"Stardate Alpha 0031. This is High Commander Anbey, reporting in to fill in history. The western frontline stalemate has been broken! Finally. Miki Sayaka, first lieutenant and commander of the one-one-seventh Musketeers, managed that by charging them and cutting them wholesale. I awarded her the Red Star Blossom. I should award her with a couple of juicy incubator steaks. Hahaha! Hey, enough grilling and they can be considered food rations. Let it be noted that her suicidal charge sped up our schedule by weeks and saved us many artillery shells. I do wonder what sparked her charge..."

[Timer at 00:02:25. Silence for thirty-five seconds.]

"News on the eastern frontline. Sakura Kyoko, major and commander of the seven-one-seventh Red Lancers, is dead. Her name has been added onto the deceased list. Killed in action, how? Unknown at the moment. Will update when it becomes clear. The seven-one-seventh are holding despite being leaderless. I need to remedy this soon. All experiments have shown this new system to be unstable, like me, haha! Who knows what'll happen to the seven-one-seventh if left alone."

[Timer at 00:04:05. Shuffling paper for fifteen seconds.]

"Jugs and the one-oh-second are, hehehe, spearheading an assault into the incubator city of [Alien garble.] Heavy resistance, light casualties. I wonder when Akemi Homura will finish her assignment. Ah, yeah, before I forget: Seven died in the one-one-seventh to keep Miki Sayaka alive. A small price to pay for the accomplishment she achieved. However, this does transform the theory of leader-company connection into law."

[Timer at 00:05:36. The chair creaks. Anbey sighs.]

"I got this war in the bag, huh? Those faggot incubators never knew that I, Anbey, would backstab them! HAHAHAHAHA!
Given enough time and no surprises we should occupy a ghost town. Then, with all my army assembled, I will give a speech. Bitches love speeches.
This is Anbey, signing out."

Click!

Transcript ends at 00:06:48.

- Audio Log From High Commander Anbey of the Entropy Liberation Army