Planeptune's Basilicom. The tip of the spire was reserved only for the Goddesses of Gamindustri, and normally Purple Heart wouldn't be the only one to be there.

But now, one day after the Victory Parade, Purple Heart was feeling antsy, circling the table in the center of the room over and over again as if it were an inescapable orbit. The early morning sunlight rose from the east, over the mountains separating Planeptune from Lastation, and filtered through the glass walls of the Basilicom's spire. The light painted the pristine buildings of Planeptune, their white coats being draped in gold.

"...Blanc, you must speak to me as soon as you can." Purple Heart held a phone to her ear, her feet dancing across the rug floor as she glared nervously out the windows surrounding her. "Something has come up about your operation two days ago, something that I must discuss with you as soon as it is allowed, if at all possible." She paused in both step and voice, letting her head sway over to the center of the table, where the flowers from the concert's VIP room laid. Beside them were several papers, files and a tablet, all detailing troop movements and the status of the recovered Kyanite on it's way to Gamindustri.

The Goddess of Lowee was most definitely on her way to Earth. Something about her solemn attitude after the concert made it clear that she was going back. Why so soon? Neptune had her suspicions, but none of them were confirmed. Her own intelligence was getting mixed messages on something catastrophic that happened in New Hampshire. Was it an explosion? Was it two explosions? Was there a major battle? The only thing that could be known for certain was that there were things, secret things at work that could change the tide of battle. And without adequate intelligence, she would be the one to fail in the end. But that wouldn't happen. Not while she was still standing.

With the seconds piling on, Purple Heart struggled to find a way to conclude her voice message. "I hope to hear from you soon." And with that line the CPU closed, then tossed her phone onto the table, letting it slide a few inches before coming to a halt. That felt like a poor conclusion to her. She wanted it to be reminiscent of who she was, and that departure was just sad. And that reflected onto herself.

Neptune sighed, letting her long purple braids sway at her body as she swung her head towards the city she worked so hard to build.

And when she saw it's glamor, it's beauty and how complete it looked, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. A newfound, rejuvenated desire to work harder and make it better.

The CPU turned around and pulled out a chair at the table, sitting down at her documents and tablet. A quick glance over the whole situation gave her the chills, seeing how heavy losses were mounting in the southeastern United States.

In the beginning of the war, when she held the advantage, things were so easy. Compared to how organised and stalwart her opponent was now, the past seemed like child's play. It seemed to be a game, where the beginning was merely a tutorial and now things were rapidly increasing in difficulty.

That thought was reinforced by the fact that time and time again that going against an organized foe only met a drawn out, bloody defeat. Their tactics were different, refined by generations of warfare. At least, that's what they knew from the information that Gamindustri's armies recovered over the past month. All that meant was that we would have to adapt and crush them in a way that was uniquely Gamindustrian.

Purple Heart set both her elbows atop the table, letter her chin rest upon her palms as her head slid down her forearms and down to the table. She sighed, distressed at the amount of thinking she would have to do.

Of course, there were military advisors and army theorists down in Planeptune's CENTCOM. They could take over all this micromanaging for her. Those generals, when pooling their heads together, orchestrated some of the most successful campaigns and operations of the war so far, such as the EMP attacks and landings in the Alps.

But if she gave them control, it wouldn't be her victory, now would it…

It would be their victory. In the end Planeptune would turn out on top, but it wouldn't be her doing. Just like back then. Back when Histoire did everything for her.

Ugh.

Neptune brushed away all those thoughts as soon as they had begun to take root. She wouldn't go back, no. Allowing others to take control again would be a sign of weakness… right?

After a series of bickering inside her head, Purple Heart decided that she would give Histoire a call. Tell her to tell those theorists to get to work. Earn their pay. After all, they did work for her. Maybe it would be her victory in a way.

At least, that's what she told herself, time and time again.

"The catastrophic loss of Kyushu to Planeptune in such a short amount of time shocked Asian governments who were able to catch word of it." A pause, enticing the listener's imagination. "Remember, this was still when Earth was struck down by a worldwide attack on their electronics. And without communication, things went down, fast."

Nepgear lied down on the top bunk of her old bunkbed, earbuds linked wirelessly to her N-Gear sitting upon her chest, rising and lowering with every breath she took. Sometimes her eyes were open, sometimes they were closed, vividly picturing what the announcer said. The curtains to her room were closed, and the whole room was covered in darkness. Made her feel drowsy. Helped her picture things, helped lift her off her bed and into a whole other world.

"Honestly, I don't know much about what went down in Asia or Europe. Hell, I don't even know much about what went down in America, either. That goes to show how devastating the loss of electronics was to the people of Earth." The announcer paused, then continued with a more tame and hushed voice, as if he were speaking directly to Nepgear. A secret, she thought.

"I remember that, at school or just at home on the internet, I would come across these books and stories about what the apocalypse would be like. Dystopian novels, that's what those were. All about how society would collapse to zombies, nukes or some terrible disaster and turn into a wasteland. They always fascinated me, and after reading a bunch of them, I eventually came to the conclusion that the most catastrophic event that would coincidentally be the most likely way society would end, would be the end of communication and the internet in one way or another."

"That's kinda what happened here. Loss of all electronics and communication. Left us blind, left us at the mercy of whatever happened to an individual rather than a population."

The CPU candidate of Planeptune opened her drowsy eyes at the sound of footsteps outside her door, breaking her immersion.

The announcer cleared his throat, but before he could continue, someone knocked on Nepgear's door. She immediately tore off her earbuds and tucked them under her pillow as fast as she could, but it was too late. Her sister entered the room, letting in a line of light that nearly blinded Nepgear, forcing her to squint.

"Nep junior, why is it so dark in here?" Purple Heart teased as she stepped into her sister's room. "It's in the middle of the day, why would you be napping…" The sight of her sister's hasty scramble sent her heart plummeting, arms drooping to her sides.

"Sis…" Neptune stepped into the room, her voice increasing in a crescendo of suspicion. "What- why-" She tried to start, but deep down in her heart she couldn't find words. She knew. "Nepgear?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Nepgear's beet-red face squeaked, partially out of fright but mostly, mostly out of fear. Fear of disappointing her only family. Her back stood up as straight as if she were a ventriloquist's puppet to her emotions crackling in the upheaval of violence, none of her words her own in the end. "Nothing!"

Neptune scoffed with her mouth wide open, darting forwards with a sturdy arm outstretched. It's aim was true, and despite the protests of her sister, Purple Heart pulled out a tiny, insignificant radio.

There was silence for a moment as Nepgear's heart froze in place, arms and legs stuck to the terror.

Oh goodness no, she thought over and over and over again, unable to see anything but the radio. The disgusted, disappointed yet calm expression painted on her older sister's face twitched.

Deep, deep breathing. Slow, hard to hear, not daring to make the slightest hint of a sound. She screwed up, now, didn't she?

Neptune's lower lip quivered, formulating a sentence without a beginning, processing, processing. Her shoulders were raised, tense, but her fingers were weak, the tips of each one not quite pressing hard enough into the cheap plastic.

She was getting emotional.

She couldn't get emotional. She had to be strong in front of her sister, she had to be a leader. And to be a leader, she had to be controlled. Smart. Able to identify what's wrong when what's wrong seems like it's right.

Neptune took a moment to herself, a moment to breathe.

"It's my fault." Purple Heart said. Her head dipped down, but just enough for her eyes to be invisible to Nepgear.

Nepgear wanted to ask why and comfort her sibling, but in the end she said nothing.

"I let this continue, and I should have seen this coming." Purple Heart inhaled sharply but silently, and looked her sister with eyes that reflected maturity. "You can be quite curious when it comes to these kinds of things."

Neptune set the radio down easy on the bottom bunk, then eased her arms down onto the mattress where her sister lay.

"I might've let this happen, but you should've known better." The older sibling urged. "Trusted me that this was bad for you."

Nepgear nodded in agreement, not taking her eyes off her counterpart's.

"Sis," Nepgear began. "I'm sorry I let you down." Her thoughts were drawn to what the announcer said, then she thought of the words her sister told her in the past. About why she couldn't be told of what's going on out there, that it would be too much for her to handle.

That always infuriated her. She never voiced her opinions, but she knew that she was more than capable to handle just about anything. Why wouldn't her sister trust her with anything? She was getting older and more mature with each passing day. To begin with, she was always considered to be more mature than Neptune at every level… at least until she changed. To Nepgear, it seemed almost instantaneous. A big separation between the past and the present.

She didn't want to hold opinions against her sister, but to her, it was undoubtedly a bad change. From then on, she was to be the little sister. Neptune was the adult. And Nepgear hated that distinction. No more of that sister-sister relationship she craved so dearly.

"You didn't let me down, Nepgear. I let myself down, really."

Those last words hung over the room like looming storm clouds, sitting within reach yet so, so far away. They were omnipresent, they sagged in Nepgear's stomach like a boulder, sitting there without damage yet being the only thing in her body that she could feel that caused her pain.

Neptune turned away, towards the door. The radio sat on the bed, sinking ever so slightly into the cushion.

"Sis, I want you to come with me instead of Vert when the time comes." A pause. "To Earth." Neptune said, refreshed. "If it comes."

That didn't shock the lavender-haired girl, who merely rubbed her arms together, which just so happened to be of biggest, yet least captivating interest to her eyes at the moment.

It took her a second to respond, and when she did all that was said was a sharp confirmation.

Neptune breathed easier with that knowledge, letter her attention to be placed into the light of the doorway. She said goodbye, and bid her sister goodwill.

The younger sister did the same.

And when the door closed behind the CPU of Planeptune, and all the light was snuffed out of her old bedroom, she shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it, which only made things worse.

In the most mature and professional way would the Goddess have to deal with the issue at hand.

Her actions had to represent herself.

Some options were cleared away immediately, that being a military solution. She needed something quieter, something that wouldn't cause more of a dip in shares than there already was.

Maybe she could call upon the Guild, much like she had in the past.

"I really can't blame you for keeping this a secret from Neptune." Noire sighed, legs crossed at a corner cafe along the banks of the Charles River. From her seat she could see most of the opposite bank without and sort of obstruction, save a line of trees planted along the sidewalk or a car or two parked along the side of the road, which was cleared of both snow and of debris during the occupation.

The cafe was in good repair, as the neighborhood they were in had not sustained much house-to-house combat in relation to the rest of the city. The place still held the aroma of chilled sugar and tea, a welcome invitation that was forwarded onto the two Goddesses seeking to catch up in private.

"She would've gone ballistic or something." The twin-tailed Goddess rolled her eyes, thinking off her purple counterpart. "You know how she is."

"I don't know about ballistic," Blanc uttered quietly, holding in her right hand a cup of chamomile tea. "But she could do something irrational."

"You really think so?" Noire asked with her eyes wide open. "I know that's what you might think in the past, but she's put an effort into reform- in that regard her effort rivals my own."

Blanc gave off a near-invisible smile. Some people don't change, no matter how much time passes.

"You always get ahead of yourself, you know that?" Blanc smirked, but just a bit.

"What?" Noire frowned, almost spilling a drink of her own. "I- I do not! Getting ahead, and by extension thinking ahead, is one of the most important virtues of a well-to-do Goddess. Always expect the unexpected." The Goddess of Lastation leaned forwards, almost getting out of her seat in her defense.

"Maybe you should've thought ahead and demonstrated what a great CPU you are when those bombs dropped. "

Silence.

Did I go too far? Thought Noire as she slowly receded back into a more collected seating position.

Blanc's eyebrows danced up and down, not quite sure where to settle as her lips curled.

"You can't expect something as unimaginable as that to just pop up out of nowhere!" She snapped. "W- What can you even do when facing something that you can't see? Shoot it? Hit it? That was a missile unlike anything we have ever seen. And- And!"

Blanc's fists tightened, her right hand ready to snap her cup into shards at the slightest hint of any provocation.

"You just say that if I were more… Prepared…" The CPU of Lowee snarled. "I could've just swatted away the deaths of a chunk of my army? Not just that, but maybe me as well?"

"No- that's not what I meant at all-" Noire stammered, raising her hands in protest.

"What did you mean, huh? What can you do to make sure we are safe from that type of monstrosity? I'll be damned if we don't see something like that again. Go on, tell me what a mature CPU you are."

"W- well…" Noire righted herself up, launching herself into thought. "We could target the places where those missiles are held. Take and keep them for ourselves."

Blanc rebuked that immediately. "You think that's feasible? How many missiles are out there? Do you know where they are? That will take way too long, and I bet they have this type of attack in mind already."

"Hey!" Noire frowned, not backing down. "You think I know everything? I don't, thank you very much. And to that respect I'd like to know what you think we can do."

After a deep breath, the white CPU spoke. "What we can do, huh." Blanc thrust her elbow onto the table, and propped her chin atop it, thinking. She was calmer, but she was not going to forget Noire's hasty, crude and frankly insensitive words. "How about we try and decapitate them. A big blow to their center of command, that way they won't be able to make any major actions like that again."

"That would only work if they have a center of command. And besides, that would be too easy. Not worthy of an endgame fight." Noire huffed in retort.

"And that's the thing." Blanc continued, getting excited. "Vert and I have discovered that there's a building in New York city called the United Nations building or something. And there's also a building in the District of Columbia called the Pentagon. I know as a fact that the Pentagon is, in fact, one of their largest military centers. The United Nations building is a mystery to me, but it still seems like an important place to consider."

Noire blinked, almost laughingly. "Then it's settled." She smiled confidently, both palms on the table. "I have two airborne divisions available in reserve. I was planning on deploying them to reinforce us in Europe, but this is an opportunity that cannot be missed."

"Now you're talking." Blanc agreed. "I only have an armor division, but they're reportedly having some logistical issues concerning teleportation."

"Hmm." The black haired CPU sighed in disappointment. "Now, I don't think we have enough of an advantage to guarantee victory just yet." She looked Blanc in the eyes. "Do you think we should call upon Planeptune?"

The girl in question paused to think, then responded. "It would be for the best. I'm certain that she has some groups available for such a major operation."

Noire could feel the tips of her fingers tingle with excitement. This was something that could seriously turn the tide, and possibly be the blow that they needed to regain an initiative advantage. If this was as major a place as she hoped it was, this could be what they needed to bring Earth, or at least North America, back into the beginning stages of the war: disoriented and unable to fight back.

"I'll give her a call." Noire stated, pulling out her personal smartphone.

"No, no," Blanc held up a hand as she held up her own. "She's given me a few calls already. It would be best for me to see what she wants." She stood up and out of her chair, and begun to drift towards the interior of the cafe.

"If you insist." Lastation's CPU budged, and reclined back into her chair.

As Blanc initiated cross-dimensional communication, Noire gazed across the Charles River.

It didn't seem to be all that clear up close, but from far away it gave off a soothing aura. The frozen edges were tickled by a slowly flowing center, small waves lapping at it's concrete edges. Snow sat frigid and frozen across the ice, atop the tips of trees, along the grass and laid on the roofs of freezing cars.

Across the river buildings stood tall, not as many skyscrapers as there were in the center of the city, but still it appeared silent and majestic. It was so different here- the architecture, the scenery, the air, the history.

And in her eyes reflected the images of tall, brick structures that made up the Massachussetts Institute of Technology and some of its related buildings. One of which, if she had looked much, much closer, supported something, or someone, more than what meets the eye.

"Pinpoint one, this is Hawg one. Single A-10C at 7,000. Armed with AGM 45D, AGM 45H, 1150, Gun."

A soldier laid with his stomach on the cold, hard ceiling of a tall brick building. From his position between two air vents he had a perfect line of sight to his elusive targets, mingling carelessly inside a cafe.

His radio crackled into his ear, and his mission of tense waiting and mind-numbing hiding was finally coming to it's conclusion.

"Time on station is zero + fifteen.

Available for tasking. What do you have for me?"

Pinpoint, the callsign of an army JTAC breathed deeply, his heart beating faster than he wanted. With each breath came another puff of fog, gliding out his mouth or nostrils and out, over the edge of the building.

"Hawg one, this is Pinpoint one. Type two in effect. Advise when ready for nine-line."

The patient man spoke stolidly, his eyes glued to his rangefinder set up in a tripod front of him, each one of it's stokes jutting into a thin layer of snow.

His radio crackled like the voice of a witch.

"Ready to copy."

After quickly checking off everything on his checklist, Pinpoint squinted his blue eyes through his rangefinder one last time to make sure his information was correct.

One of the targets, "White" had just gotten up out of her chair, phone in hand. The situation was always changing, but no matter what, this was an opportunity they could not afford to miss.

Pinpoint cleared his throat before speaking.

"Line is as follows:

One, two, three, not applicable,

Four - three five feet MSL.

Five - target is a white corner cafe along the banks of the Charles River.

Six - not applicable.

Seven - infrared pointer."

In his left hand, the JTAC rolled a military-grade IR laser pointer between his fingers.

"Eight - at least 300 meters south of my location marked by an IR strobe, target is across the river.

Nine - egress North.

Advise when ready for remarks and further talk- on."

With that done with, Pinpoint lied eagerly in wait of his next move. Everything had to be perfect in these types of scenarios.

The pilot, Hawg one, spoke after a handful of seconds. "Ready to copy remarks."

The snow started to trickle down. Cloud cover was getting worse by the second, hampering visibility as time went on. This wouldn't be good.

"Use AGM 65D, four rounds. Use gun, 200 rounds."

Pinpoint advised in accordance with the changing situation. AGM 65 missiles were TV-guided, but the D variant could be used in both nighttime and poor weather conditions. He also requested four rounds, mostly because if one is the kill shot, the others would bury his high-value targets in rubble. The gun run would be for insurance.

Around ten seconds later, Pinpoint spoke into his radio again.

"Report IP inbound."

Hawg one responded clearly, his voice getting firm.

"IP inbound."

"Hawg one, continue."

The JTAC's heart beated faster and faster.

"Hawg one, sparkle."

That was his cue. Pinpoint drew his laser pointer up, and flicked it on. The light was invisible to the naked eye, but the instruments onboard the A-10 could pick it up easily.

"Sparkle."

As he responded, Pinpoint peered through his rangefinder. "White" had sat back down, and "Black" had stood up. They were talking about something important by their expressions and body language.

His radio shattered the silence again, the pilot bringing him an update.

"Hawg one, contact sparkle."

Adrenaline started to flow through his veins, heating him up. He became immune to the cold through dedication, and all he could see was the street across the river.

"Hawg one, continue."

And not even a second later, his ears lit up with sound.

"Hawg one, in from the north."

And he spoke the last words.

"Hawg one, you are cleared hot."

A second ticked by. Another second crawled over his skin, and another crept through his hair.

A brilliant, deafening light, two, three, four.

The upper floors of the building erupted and split apart with fire, hunks of concrete, metal, brick and glass flying onto the street, the snow, searing through tree leaves and smashing into car roofs, plunging into the river and across the whole city.

A tremor rocked the earth, and shockwaves rippled through the water.

When the smoke billowed high into the air, mixing with the snow, the place where the cafe was supposed to be was blanketed in a massage of death.

A long, hard rain fell down from above, and came with it was the roar of the A-10, and the sweet sound of revenge.

BRRRRRT!

And in an instant it was over. The whisk of an airplane swept through the smoke like a flash of thunder. There one second, gone the next.

The snow drifted down, and it was black.

Pinpoint couldn't see a thing. Huge dust clouds pillared into the sky, seeping through the entire cityscape.

He assumed the best.

"Hawg one, target destroyed. No further tasking available, good job! You may depart."

Letting the adrenaline and pressure off his shoulders, he laid there for a while longer, after everything was said and done. Not to confirm the kills, but because his body felt like a lazy slab of jello.

Almost fifteen minutes would pass before he would get up and leave on foot, pack up and go back, back to his base miles away.

He should've known to never assume the best.