"Life is an unfair, unbalanced, and shitty game. The devs have long abandoned it, so it's up to us to provide a balance patch." — nanashi

[Six Months Ago]

"Good evening, Tomozaki." the young soldier was called into the training room, filled with dozens of simulation consoles designed to mimic the Federacy's staple Feldreẞ. He looked toward the source of the voice, the familiar face of a woman with the short silver hair of Celena nobility, seated on one of the simulators with a novel in hand.

"Good evening as well, Kikuchi," he returned the greeting. Noticing no one else was in the room, he quickly scrambled to come up with a topic. "Um, I heard you were getting a promotion? Congrats," he said, his eyes wandered about, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. It was rare for them to have a moment completely alone. In this instance, the two of them arrived earlier due to deliberate planning by the other members of their training group.

Technically, both of them were in on the scheme as well; they just didn't know of each other's involvement.

"Yes, I'll be a Captain soon. I don't know what I'll do with the extra pay." Her gentle angelic smile was partly covered by her novel. She held her book tight, trying to not drop it by accident. Her heart was beating too fast. "What do you usually spend your money on?"

"Games, mostly," he replied, taking a seat on the simulator next to hers. "My sister earns her own living, so I don't have anyone else to support financially. I think I'm pretty simple, as long as my needs are met, I don't ask for much more."

"I see, that is just like you," she giggled. "I feel the same. As long as I have the opportunity to read… and as long as I'm with you, I don't need more," she pulled the trigger.

The silence only reigned briefly before the pair broke into giggles, their cheer echoing throughout the empty room. Their faces were as flushed as they could be, butterflies in each of their stomachs.

"Is that truly how you feel?" he looked away, attempting to regain his composure. Remnants of his laughter escaped his breath. He didn't expect her to take the initiative, he almost felt cheated in a sense.

"I… have no reason to lie," she hid further behind her book. "This feeling, it's like reading The Beautiful Phantom again."

"Ah, I get you. That scene was legendary…"

Kikuchi placed her book down, standing up, "Tomo— Fumiya… I want to let you know, you mean a lot to me."

Tomozaki sprung from his seat, his body moved faster than his mind. Never mind the fact he was a Vargus. Never mind the difference in rank. Before it registered in either of their heads, Tomozaki clutched her tight.

"You mean a lot to me as well, Fuuka."

Her answer was not another word, but the simple act of returning the embrace.

Just like the books of romance they once read, they lived with an innocence unexpected of battle-forged soldiers, as if they were seven years younger, the time dubbed the "spring of youth".

Seven years ago, the Vargus would have been fighting to the death to protect their territory—against not only the Imperial weapons known as the Legion, but the remnants of the Empire along with them.

Seven years ago, the nobles were forced to make a decision—side with the losing Empire, or side with the Federacy, and relinquish their right to taxation. Neither was an easy choice financially for the Counts or Barons. Their terrible relationship with the common folk didn't help either. Many former nobles were forced into military service to get by.

Deserved or not—willing or not, the fact remained; their youth was interrupted by war.

But here, for a moment, they let their worries of the war slide. Whether they survived the next day, whether the war would soon end; those questions were—for a brief time—lifted from their minds.

If these two were able to find their youth again—even a small part of it; for a fleeting moment—could others do the same?

[30th of May, 2149 Anno Astrum]

It was almost lights out for the members of the Boreas Squadron, though our room's lights still shone brightly. In contrast to the lively common room filled with rowdy soldiers, our room was only filled with two young men awkwardly trudging through the silence with wounded hearts.

For once, I couldn't find myself wanting to play any games; I had my fill and couldn't stomach more. My personal Smotch sat in my bag, and I was left to stare at nothing, laying on my assigned bed.

As the headquarters of the Trial Unit wasn't meant to house enlisted troops, the rooms inside the barracks were very obviously made for commissioned ranks, junior officers in our case. A single bunk bed, two desks, a tall wardrobe, and some wall hangers; everything else like the kitchen equipment and showers was shared with the whole barracks.

Having just arrived, our room was barren aside from the necessities. We were ordered by Captain Yukinoshita to keep it that way, as we might have to transfer to another location without much notice. I didn't mind, I never felt like decorating a shared room with my own belongings. My roommate didn't seem to care either.

"Still, only five of us left, huh?" Nakamura muttered from above me, the sound of rapid phone tapping piercing my empty ears. "And of all people, I've gotta share a bunk with you."

"Can't get rid of me that easily," I attempted a retort.

"True, whatever you do, you find a way to keep yourself on the stage…" he trailed off. It wasn't like him to agree with me, as weird as that sounds.

"...Something up?"

"Are you keeping their numbers?" he asked.

"Numbers?"

"C'mon man, you know what I mean. Like, Tama's, Takei's and…" he left Fuuka's name unsaid. I guess even he could be considerate towards me. "You're my senior in this, you gotta tell me how I'm supposed to cope. I know you Vargus are used to this shit."

"Used to it?... I guess that's how you can see it from the outside."

I glared at my phone's messages, at the top was the Boreas Squadron group chat, followed by a personal message from Hinami—our platoon leader. It was business-related; already a day old and didn't need a reply.

Below that was a group devoid of activity for half a week now, its title was the "21's Gunners Guild". It was an unofficial training group made for the people Hinami thought were the best gunners of the 21st Armored Battalion. It was subjective, of course, but Hinami's intuition brought together a pretty impressive roster.

We regularly scheduled simulator time together during liberty in the name of improvement through competition. It was through that group that I got to know Nakamura.

There were seventeen members, fifteen gunners from many different squadrons, as well as two mechanics who fine-tuned the simulator's controls according to the quirks of our Vánagandrs. Of the gunners, only five survived the battle half a week ago—the four members of Foxtrot Platoon and Lieutenant Yuigahama, who was the newest member of our little club.

Many of them were placed in the north, where the assault was fiercest. Fuuka's squadron included.

It was unfair.

"..."

"..."

Nakamura sighed, "What, that's all you have to say? You really suck at keeping conversations going."

"You know how I am. I mean, what do you want me to say?"

"Dude, even if you fail at witty comebacks, it's kinda depressing if you don't try at all."

I tried to ignore that. "...Well, haven't you gone through something like this already? It's been almost two years for you, right?"

"Not really. We've never had a loss this big, not with people that I considered friends anyway. Our attrition rate was always pretty low."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, but I understood what he meant. "...Honestly, different people deal with it in different ways. What works for me might not work for you."

"I don't care. Just give me anything as long as it isn't bottling this shit up in silence."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Oi, Tomozaki. This isn't funny, farm boy."

I chuckled, "Sorry, sorry. To be real with you, the way I dealt with it for most of my career was exactly as you said, bottling it up in silence until I accepted reality and moved on. We have a tendency to do that. It wasn't until recently that I shared my thoughts with someone else."

"I would've thought Vambrace supported each other through this stuff," he said.

"That's the truth, though. We're a prideful bunch, even the closest of us have a hard time opening up to each other. That's why… I think it was nice to have someone like her to talk to."

Someone who didn't care about appearances. An honest person, without a myriad of masks.

"... So you're saying I have to open up?" he asked.

I confirmed, "... Yeah, let it all out."

The bed shook, a thump hit the floor as Nakamura jumped off the top bunk. He picked up a jacket from one of the hangars and put it on, preparing to go outside. He checked his brown hair in the wardrobe mirror before opening the door.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Calling Yuzu. I'm sure as hell not pouring my heart out to you. Besides, what was it Takei said that one time? Girls liked it when you were vulnerable with them?"

"I don't think you should be quoting him on anything romance-related."

He left with a slight laugh, gently closing the door, leaving me alone with only my thoughts and the ever-present whistle of the Wolfsland wind.

It reminded me of a time I desperately tried to end. A time when I was never close to anyone.

For a while, I never considered the soldiers I fought with as comrades. I was always quiet, in the corner, the last to be called upon. To the regular forces, I was just a no-name Vargus. They had no reason to care.

To the Vargus, I was nothing more than the unathletic and unsocial boy that I was when I was younger. No one had any expectations of me. No one relied on me. Other than to bark orders, no one talked to me.

So I stopped trying. I couldn't help myself out of isolation.

That changed when I was assigned to FOB 21—to Vambrace—two years ago. I learnt that I couldn't change the world, so all I could do was change myself. No matter how broken a game life was, gaining experience was the only way to overcome it. I couldn't wait for a balance patch that would never come.

I couldn't keep stumbling through life mindlessly, without purpose.

If I had to credit anyone for my current self, it would be Hikigaya for choosing me as his gunner, Hinami for pushing myself to improve in every aspect, and… Fuuka… for always being there, in joy or in sadness. I also couldn't discount the other members of Vambrace or Hinami's guild.

I'd been a mercenary for seven years now, and only in the last two years had I found people I could call friends. People I cared for, and people who cared for me. Sad, isn't it?

Only since then did I find myself being affected by my comrades' deaths, cold as that sounded. It was a new experience, I didn't know what to do.

So I kept it all to myself at first.

Then, I got to know her.

But she was no longer here.

There was no one that I could pour my heart out to anymore.

So I hypocritically ignored the advice I gave Nakamura, and cried myself to sleep.

[23rd of June, 2149 Anno Astrum]

The long barrel of my Juggernaut's 88 mm cannon shot an explosive round towards a Grauwolf platoon approaching dangerously close to our vanguard strike force.

Boreas' Foxtrot Platoon was spread out across the cityscape in FOB 17's combat ward, continuously sniping and shifting positions. This was our first deployment in FOB 17.

The 1028th Trial Unit's mobile defence strategy was a far cry in comparison to anything we'd done so far, most notably the partitioning of our squadrons. Instead of working as a single force, the Nordlicht and Boreas Squadrons were split up into smaller strike teams of two platoons.

Then, instead of placing us at a single posting, we were constantly shifted and rotated between bases that needed us. Each base was usually sent the strike team closest at the time, with a max of three if they were really desperate. This time was one of them.

"Lieutenant Nouzen sure likes to fucking overextend, doesn't he?" the toxicity of Nakamura's words were transmitted crisply along with the booms of gunfire, despite the jamming of the Eintagsfliege. I was impressed at how far voice chat had come, yet somehow stayed the same.

My gun camera zoomed in on the movements of Lieutenant Nouzen's rig, he slid and jumped onto a Löwe, stabbing a pile driver from his legs and disabling it before quickly leaping off and destroying another Löwe with a point-blank shot. His erratic and close-up style made it hard to give support fire.

"It's totally whack, right? I mean, even Hachiman's hesitating to go all out," Mimimi added.

Unlike his usual mode of operation, Hikigaya stuck to the rooftops, taking advantage of the Juggernaut's vertical mobility to destroy the Legion from their universal weak spot above the unit. I'm glad he's finding ways to avoid danger.

"That's good, at least he knows that he can't get caught up in his rhythm," my reply was almost second nature. I didn't need to calculate every single one like I used to.

"Couldn't he just be tired? He looked pretty bad last time I saw him," Hinami asked.

"Hexactly… Did I say that right?"

"I give it a 4/10… Tch, Tomozaki, -67 degrees from North, there should be a Löwe platoon near you. Take them out, I don't have a clear shot from here."

"I'm on it," the Juggernaut's interface registered the hostiles as I scanned over the given direction. I hooked my wire anchors on an adjacent building, preparing to leap to a better position. "Can't you roof jump though?"

"Still trying to get the hang of it. Now wouldn't be a great time to mess up and fall."

"I guess there are things even you can't do yet. Hear that Mimimi? Here's your chance to one-up her at something."

"Bet, you gotta teach me."

It wasn't surprising that few of us were comfortable with the three-dimensional movement provided by the Juggernaut. Maneuvers that immobilized you—or worse—in the case of failure were intimidating to learn without a simulator, let alone attempt in live combat.

"This is the first time Foxtrot is seeing Shin in action, right?" Lieutenant Kukumila asked, her Sixth Platoon was the other half of our strike team.

"Yeah, don't you worry for him? Even Hachiman isn't that reckless." Mimimi asked.

"It's useless worrying about Shin."

"You trust him that much?" I asked.

"Trust?... Maybe..." she trailed off.

"Sounds like there's a story behind that… Hinami, the Löwe platoon is eliminated. I'm going back to reload." It couldn't be understated how convenient it was to have a direct trajectory on their above-turret weak spot.

"Alright, that sector is wrapped up anyway. Stick with Shuuji on the main sector, I don't mind if you take it easy for a bit."

There was a lot of transferring involved with the Trial Unit, which didn't allow us to end our day at headquarters. We mostly stayed in whatever spare rooms each base had. That didn't exactly allow for the best of rest.

"Roger, I'll head over to Nakamura's position after I'm done."

We had been in these tiring conditions for around three weeks now. Thankfully, there haven't been any major problems caused by it, casualties or otherwise. We were allowed by the upper brass to prioritize our own safety in combat so long as we didn't outright flee. This was probably something to appease the skeptics who were against the Reginleif's dangerous design.

Of course, they only allowed us that due to our members from the regular forces. The brass couldn't care less about a squadron of only mercs.

The battle continued until their numbers were whittled down ever so surely. This was more up to our speed; as the fighting calmed, we could systematically defeat the Legion without needing to endanger any units, the reckless engagements of Lieutenant Nouzen aside.

From my position, the dark purple clouds were beginning to blow westward, signalling their retreat. We all breathed a sigh of relief, looking forward to our rest period.

Three of the Trial Unit's strike teams gathered in the rear barracks of FOB 17, it was already late afternoon. They called it a barrack, but it wasn't anything more than a warehouse with some futons and hammocks set up. Aside from the hammocks—they're pretty cool—this had to be the worst lodgings we've ever been given by far.

Thankfully for them, the women's barracks had rooms they could spare. They still used the warehouse as a common room for the time being, though.

There certainly weren't enough beds to fit all of the guys. Lieutenant Nouzen and Sergeant Bernholdt's strike team opted to rest in their transport vehicle instead, leaving the warehouse for the Hikigaya-Shuga and Hinami-Kukumila strike teams.

"Chief, you getting enough sleep?" I handed Hikigaya a plastic cup of lemon tea, chilled from the water cooler. The blazing heat could be felt as summer was in full swing, even at this time. They at least had the decency to give us powdered instant drinks.

I turned towards the kid clutching Hikigaya's hand, "This one's for you, Kei-chan."

"Thank you!" she gladly accepted. With her sister in the hangars, Hikigaya was left to look after her.

"Doesn't look like you're well-rested either, Fumiya, " he said. His eyes were… deader than usual. His normally straight posture was nowhere to be seen, returning to the apparently famous 'Hachiman Slouch' parroted around by his childhood friends in the squadron.

"Still looks like I'm getting better sleep than you, though."

He waved me off, "It's nothing to worry about. I've had it worse back when I first started."

It was an unsaid fact that all of the Vargus were in the infantry sometime during their career; Hikigaya and I were no different, though we were always in separate companies. The only exception to the rule I could think of was Kawasaki; she joined an armored unit straight after enlistment.

I remembered it clearly. Many sleepless nights were spent manning outposts, pushing further and further into Legion territory in ungodly hours, getting picked on and insulted by other soldiers for looking absolutely dead, not to mention the ovens disguised as Wolfhezin exosuits; terrible memories all around.

"Haa-chan, let's go explore the base!"

"Alright, alright, let's go," I felt a hand pat me on the back, "After tomorrow's a Wednesday anyway," unlike the general public, our weekends were held on Wednesdays and Fridays, "I'll be fine. You, however… Don't spend the whole day playing Atafami on your breaks."

"That's an order I can't comply with, sir," I gave him a mock salute and slight smile, taking my leave to get more drinks. I didn't tell him that I hadn't played Atafami for almost two weeks. I couldn't say exactly why, but for some reason or another, I just couldn't focus on it.

A quick glance around the warehouse could tell you that not all of our members were present. Hinami and Nakamura were somewhere else in the base, catching up with a friend from their officer academy days.

Kawasaki was with the maintenance crew making sure everything was alright; our Juggernauts weren't exactly standard equipment after all. We didn't get the memo that the Trial Unit's "mechanics" were actually just the RnD division, none of them came with us to the battlefield. We were supposed to have our own mechanics—Izumi and Mizusawa—transfer with us, but it seems they're stuck in FOB 21 for the time being.

The last missing members were Mizuchi and Zaimokuza; only gods knew where they wandered off to.

"Nee, Kurena-chan~ You like one of your friends don't you? Which one is it?" I heard Mimimi's cheery voice from the far corner of the makeshift barracks; she was very much present.

"I don't like any of them, Nanami!" her victim denied.

"It has to be Shinei-kun right?"

"No, it's not!"

"I see. So it's fine if I tell him, right?"

"Noooo…"

Aside from Hikigaya, I considered Mimimi to be my closest companion within the old Vambrace. She was a smart idiot that could have a one-track mind sometimes, practically forcing me to help her whenever she set her sights on something, which often involved Hinami. It was fun though, training her to match her rival was one of the highlights of my free time.

"Lemon tea, you two?" I offered.

"Ooh, Fumiya, you really know how to win me over," she snatched the drink from my hands, eagerly taking a sip from the cold drink.

"Thanks, I guess… Mimimi, lay off on the bullying will you?"

"Kurena-chan is just so easy, though!"

"Hey!" the subject of her teasing protested.

Second Lieutenant Kurena Kukumila, aged sixteen if I remembered correctly; it was definitely an early age to start working, let alone enlist as an officer. In contrast to Mimimi's deep-blue Lazuli hair, hers was the red of an Agate, just as red as her cheeks were when Mimimi mentioned Lieutenant Nouzen.

I placed the other cup on the cheap sitting mat, in front of the young Lieutenant, "Drink, I'm sure Shinei-kun doesn't like dehydrated girls."

"Pfft-ahaahaha," Mimimi burst out laughing, slapping me silly on the shoulder, "Fumiya, you're terrible!" Even as I gained experience in my social stat, I wasn't entirely sure what that meant.

"Jeez, both of you suck!" Lieutenant Kukumila exclaimed, her cheeks were puffed and fists closed before her mouth; she really looked like a child. Nobody could guess from just her appearance, but her precision as a Feldreẞ marksman was top-notch. I couldn't imagine what the Republic must have done to her for that to be a necessary skill, one that she honed to near perfection.

"Kurena, you really need to make up your mind, you know?" Nordlicht's deputy—Second Lieutenant Raiden Shuga—joined the conversation. Though he was at least seven years younger than the members of Boreas, his height and build easily towered over most of us. Appearance-wise, he fit in well with the Vargus of Nordlicht.

"Indeed, at this rate, your feelings will never reach Shinei," at Lieutenant Shuga's side was a pre-teen girl with nearly identical features to Lieutenant Nouzen, bloodred eyes and jet-black hair. It was easy to assume they were siblings from the royal family or something.

"Don't you two get started too!"

"What else am I gonna do? Shin's out cold," Lieutenant Shuga replied.

"Well, I'm not your source of entertainment!"

"Shinei-kun's already asleep? It's barely five," Mimimi asked.

"Yeah, he crashes like that sometimes," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "From what Sergeant Bernholdt told me, he hasn't been sleeping well; not that it's much different for the rest of us."

"What do you mean he crashes?"

"It's… complicated. Don't worry, I'll wake him up for dinner." it was clear he didn't want us to pry.

I couldn't say for sure what kind of person Lieutenant Nouzen was, but he seemed to be distant from pretty much everything. Only his fellow Eighty-Six knew what went on in his head, though even that I'm not sure of. I was confident, however, that he had a lot on his mind. He was definitely the type to internalize.

"You know, he reminds me a lot of Hachiman."

"I think we all see the similarities, Mimimi," I replied.

They were both leaders, reckless melee specialists, hard to read unless you knew them, both of them also probably carried baggage I would never understand. But that was just a shallow observation from an outside party like myself, of course. I barely knew Lieutenant Nouzen.

"I just don't think Hikigaya was ever as quiet as him," I said.

"No, I mean... I guess that was before you joined Vambrace, so you wouldn't know." Mimimi left it there, I couldn't bring myself to ask her for details. She turned her head to Nordlicht's deputy, "Why don't you sit down, Raiden-kun? I want to know a bit about you. You too, Mascot-chan."

"Don't call me Mascot-chan! What does -chan and -kun even mean, anyway? Anju keeps calling people that," the young girl asked.

"They're honorifics in the Orienta language, it's a bit hard to explain," I answered. "By the way, we still haven't caught your name yet."

The young girl puffed pompously, crossing her arms, "Frederica Rosenfort, remember it, Sergeant…?"

"Tomozaki," I answered. "She's Corporal Nanami."

"Just call me Mimimi."

"Right... Sergeant Tomozaki aside, you don't look like an Orienta, Corporal Nanami. Or a Vargus for that matter."

"I'm from Tausendblatter you see, which is basically the melting pot of the Wolfsland. I might look like a pure Lazuli, but my dad was a Kohl. Anyway, you pick up these little honorifics when you're around them, lots of Orienta speakers there. They're just too cute not to use."

"Uhuh, I think Anju got the habit from Kaie as well," Lieutenant Kukumila chimed in.

"Kaie?" Mimimi asked.

Lieutenant Shuga finally sat down, "She was one of our platoon leaders back in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. Sweet girl, loved flowers. Her Personal Name was Kirschblüte."

Kirschblüte… Cherry blossoms. They were the quintessential flower of the East. Even in the face of discrimination, that girl wore her culture on her sleeve.

The past me would have never understood that. If all it took for your life to be miserable was your race, then I would have only cursed at my terrible luck, unable—no, unwilling—to do anything. To be able to proudly present her heritage in that situation required strength. Were all the Eighty-Six as strong as her?

"I see, at the very least, she can rest easy now. Her battle is over." Mimimi offered her condolences with sincerity, shedding her playful nature for a brief moment, which only produced strained and awkward faces from the two members of Nordlicht.

"Getting back on track; aside from Lieutenant Kukumila here, I feel as if we don't really know you guys… Sorry, if we're being a little too curious," I quickly added.

"It's fine, Sergeant. We understand. So what do y'all wanna know?"

"Hmm… I always wanted to know how you chose your monikers. Gunslinger for Kurena-chan is self-explanatory, so how'd the rest of you get yours?" Mimimi asked.

"Each of us has a different story behind it. Wehrwolf was from my reputation as someone who barked and bit at anyone who pissed me off. Heh, to be fair, I deserved it," he chuckled.

"So you didn't choose yours?"

"Nope, squadmates forced it on me; I like it though, it's grown on me. For Theo, he took up the Personal Name of his fallen commander. Shin was similar; his Personal Name was his own choice, but the Mark came from his older brother. Anju was always with a guy called Daiya; together they were Snow Witch and Black Dog. Apparently it's based on a legend, though I dunno from where."

Considering this 'Daiya' wasn't with them…

"Well, since you've shared that, ask us anything you want. There has to be something you wanna know about us, Raiden-kun?"

"Not really."

"Ouch, are we that uninteresting?" Mimimi covered her heart as if pierced by a bullet.

"Alright, alright, we'll play along." Lieutenant Shuga closed his eyes in thought, "What's the deal with Warrant Officer Hikigaya? I didn't think the Vargus could have that rank."

""Nepotism,"" we answered simultaneously.

"You serious?"

Our conversation continued like a seesaw, taking turns in sharing whatever stories popped into our heads. Lieutenant Shuga opened up, eager to share the tales of his fallen comrades. Perhaps, he wanted someone to remember them. I could tell he was the heart of the group; the most compassionate, the most… normal. He didn't deserve the things he went through. None of them did.

"—Kujo and Daiya belly danced in front of Shin once, shit was hilarious!"

"I bet our Shinei-kun was stone-faced the entire time."

"Yeah, he kept on reading like it was nobody's business."

"While we're on Kujo, he wouldn't ever shut up about the stars to me. Could you believe it? That big guy?"

"Eh, a guy's gotta have something to pass the time, right? At least he wasn't Haruto or Daiya."

"I don't see the problem with Kujo's astrology, considering Raiden is a romantic poet," from behind entered a flat, husky voice.

In surprise, we all turned our heads. Lieutenant Nouzen looked upon our gathering, scarf covering his expression. Beside him was Mascot Rosenfort, who naturally sat back down on the mat.

"I thought you were going to the loo?"

"How uncouth Raiden! At the very least call it the restroom," Rosenfort chided.

"So, what did you need me for?" Lieutenant Nouzen asked.

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Forgive me Shinei, I lied. Raiden didn't call for you. Still, I figured joining this conversation would do you some good."

"Sit, Shinei-kun! Tell us a bit about yourself," Mimimi invited, patting the ground.

His eyes wandered; everyone else looked at him with expectation. I could swear Lieutenant Kukumila was putting on puppy eyes. In the end, he turned around, his boots making not a single sound, "No thank you. It's almost dinner time, so I'll be going to the mess hall. Excuse me."

"Figures. C'mon, we should probably head there as well," Raiden raised himself and chased after his leader.

"Just as I returned as well, goodness me..."

Our gathering ended there.

[24th of June, 2149 Anno Astrum]

It was the morning of the next day when we were forced to pack up our meager belongings and be shoved back into our transports. All three teams would be sent to FOB 16, where we were to participate in a push into Legion territory.

In the end, we didn't get to learn a whole lot about Lieutenant Nouzen, and neither Shuga nor Kukumila wanted to divulge any of his secrets without his permission; I could respect that. I just wished he was easier to approach, though that might sound hypocritical coming from me.

Hinami looked outside the window, toward the other transports. The current arrangement we agreed upon placed the members of Boreas and Nordlicht separately, leaving us a brief window to chat without them listening.

"Even hearing these anecdotes second hand... it makes you want to help them somehow," Hinami said.

"There's not much we can do, really," Kawasaki responded.

"Still, there must be something, right?" Mimimi asked.

Nakamura opened his window, savoring the breeze, letting his thoughts slip into the wind, "Giving them unwanted help out of pity would just be insulting."

He had a point. The Eighty-Six of Nordlicht were soldiers first and foremost—a dangerous profession. Did you know why the poor became beggars? To survive. For the sake of their livelihoods, they would gladly throw away their pride.

Soldiers were different.

It was precisely their pride that sustained them—what fed their mouths and filled their wallets; what kept them going even after the pain. Pride for their homeland, pride for their comrades, pride for their abilities… pride for the fucked up situation they were forced through. Our pride—in all its shapes and forms—was greater than our fear of death.

I didn't know to what degree their pride controlled their lives, but if they were anything like us—regular or Vargus—they wanted to be here. They weren't helpless. They wouldn't accept pity.

"They made the decision to fight by themselves, and they don't need help seeing their decision through to the end," Hikigaya commented. "That said, I don't think leaving them without guidance is a good idea. They need to know that their decision shouldn't end in their deaths, but end alongside the war."

"Do we really owe them that?"

"... Owing them something and wanting to do something are different things, Nakamura," I replied. "Whatever we think about their situation doesn't matter. At the very least, we should build a good connection with them—as comrades."

I couldn't promise to return the childhood lost to them. But wishing for their well-being—even if we're no more than acquaintances now—can't be wrong. What was the point of the past two years if—in the end—I only returned to apathy, as if having never taken a single step? Befriending them was the least we could do.

Nakamura sighed, "If only those Nordlicht geezers were as fatherly as they looked. Here we are, a bunch of soldiers wanting to play as their guidance counselors. Well, whatever. Building a good relationship with them sounds simple enough."

"If we can't give help directly, then we just have to be there when they do ask for help, right?" Kawasaki said.

"Right," Hikigaya agreed. "Just, don't get too involved. Push too hard and I feel they'd just push us away in turn. Besides, we have our own worries to deal with."

Freya—for all the emotion an undead machine could muster—was frustrated. For five years, she had scoured the battlefield for her target, Atlas; she held a grudge mere mortals could not understand. For the first time in forever, she had found him. He was right in her reach! But the damned orders of the Legion did not let her pursue him. Her one chance, gone.

She had failed to disable him during the attack on his Forward Operating Base, and now his unit—the Vánagandr emblazoned with the callsign of Vambrace A-L—was nowhere to be found.

Freya's unrest could be felt by the supreme commander in charge of her. Thus, it was decided the Legion would put her frustrations to good use. Their large-scale offensive was nigh; soon, the destructive railgun of the Morpho will be put to the ultimate test.

In a month, all of the pieces will be in place. Freya needed only wait 'till then, and she could rampage as she pleased whilst searching for Atlas.

But Freya was not in the mood for patience. The Legion was programmed with an uncontrollable, unending bloodlust that corrupted what humanity was left inside the replicated brain. Ever since the final directive was given, the Legion's primary objective was to kill; following plans was secondary.

Shaka to Freya: HALT YOUR FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE!

Her fellow Shepherd was quite peeved by her decision, but she paid no mind to the former Imperial. This Shepherd was not her commander like No Face was, meaning it was not necessary to heed his order. The fact that No Face hadn't intervened was a sign of his tacit approval, or most likely indifference, toward Freya's intent.

Freya to Shaka: Relax, I'm only going to tag along on an already scheduled assault.

Freya's liquid micromachine arms extended from her Skorpion, inserting them into a Dinosauria she had prepared for the large-scale offensive. She had grown tired of sitting back as a mere artillery gun, it was now her turn to sow chaos directly on the front lines. The transfer of her consciousness was complete; much more stable than one over the air. She stretched her metal limbs, shot her cannon, and connected herself to the departing assault force; all systems were online.

Shaka to Freya: … Very well, but I shall accompany you on this sortie.

Freya to Shaka: Suit yourself.

She set her sensors on her troops, one hundred strong, mostly filled with heavy units such as the Löwe and Dinosauria. The soldiers of FOB 16 have been allowed to push far, but that was exactly the plan. It was now time to crush them.

Freya to All: March.

[1st of July, 2149 Anno Astrum]

"The front line is being spread too thin," Hinami sighed, staring at a real-time map of our Western Front.

As we pushed deeper and deeper into Legion territory, bases were built hastily and even more spread out. Each Forward Operating Base was recommended to have at least a regiment of 5000 combatants as its garrison, yet most bases barely managed 3000.

FOB 21 had nearly half of that, but the terrain was most often to our advantage, and our thorough warning system saved us the hassle of deploying and rotating an advanced force to intercept attacks. While our movement was slowed by the marshes in chaotic retreats, a properly organized march through the correct routes gave us more than enough time to set up. There was no need for us to station a force inside Volks City, our frontline.

FOB 21s battles were entirely defensive; our position as the furthest base hadn't been challenged until recently. Never in the history of the base had we been ordered to push further; we simply waited for the others to catch up.

That was not the case here.

A few days ago—for the first time in two years—we participated in a push into Legion territory. Now, we were stationed inside another dilapidated city lost to the flames of war, waiting for the construction crew to build the base replacing the old FOB 16.

"Yes, thankfully, there aren't any more plans to push further for this year," Captain Yukinoshita responded through Para-RAID. If I remember correctly, she was currently in FOB 13. "Reinforcements will arrive in the next few days from the Northern Front now that there's little need to guard it."

"Have the Legion just suddenly disappeared there or something?"

"In practice, yes. We have confirmed contact and communications with the United Kingdom of Roa Gracia. Have you not tuned into the news?"

"Forget the news, Eintagsfleige have been fucking our comms everywhere we go for the past few days," Nakamura retorted.

"Ah, right. Your team was the one helping move FOB 16 forward. How has it been?"

"Aside from the Einstagsfleige? Quiet, eerily so."

"I see… In any case, once you are finished with the operation, both Nordlicht and Boreas are to reconvene at Trial Unit HQ. If you are to receive a support request, that takes priority."

"Understood, ma'am."

With the rippling sound of the Para-RAID system playing in our heads, we were disconnected from the other side.

"'Understood, ma'am?' Geez, Aoi, any colder and we'd freeze," Mimimi pretended to shiver.

"Yeah, weren't you guys part of the same graduating class?"

Hinami tried to laugh it off, "Oh, c'mon. There wasn't any meaning behind it. You have to admit, listening to the Captain speak is like listening to Colonel Hiratsuka. Got the two of them confused for a second."

"... Are you okay? You aren't sick right?" Even if the two were similar, was it possible to even autopilot your brain into saying that to someone your age? I mean, it wasn't even a playful "ma'am".

"Tomozaki. I can assure you I'm totally fine."

"... Alright then."

I looked to the sky, a blanket of purplish silver stretched as far as the eye could see. As Nakamura said, this was our condition for days now. The most sun we got was from the East during dawn.

Despite being in the middle of summer… No, because it was the middle of summer, the difference in temperature created by the lack of sunlight could be felt with every second spent outside our cockpits. It's not like we expected late autumn temperatures in July. It was a small detail in the grand scheme of things, but a gloomy atmosphere definitely impacted our morale.

Evidently, wireless connections to FOB 13 hadn't been severed, so it must have only been our region.

"Those flies gotta be running out of juice soon, right?" Lieutenant Shuga asked. "This never happened to us before."

"They would have run out ages ago," Hinami replied. "They're probably cycling a ton of them in and out. This won't end until they need them elsewhere."

Mimimi looked longingly to the sky, "... We don't have any napalm grenades, do we?"

"Even if we did, how would we shoot it to the sky?"

"I dunno, you tell me, brain-kun."

In the corner of my eye, I spotted Lieutenant Nouzen's Juggernaut—the Undertaker—twitching in activation. What was he doing? Before I could connect my Para-RAID to the shared channel, his voice echoed through all of our heads.

"They're coming," his tone was the same as always, yet, urgency could be felt.

"Lieutenant Nouzen, what are you…"

Hinami was cut off by inexplicable static, so sharp it made us jump from our seats. The static was soon followed by faint voices, repeating short phrases ad nauseam.

"I can't die here." "This is bullshit." "Help me." "It's so cold." "I can't die here." "Help me." "Help me." "Help me." "It's so cold." "Kill me already." "Help me." "This is bullshit." "I can't die here." "Kill me already."

It was unnerving, but plugging my ears did nothing; the voices were being transmitted through Para-RAID. But how? How was that possible? What were they? While no one had a particularly bad reaction to the eerie voices, we were all on edge. I could sense my fight or flight instincts kicking into high gear.

"Shin. We got Black Sheep?" Shuga asked.

"Worse."

As he said that, the two voices as clear as day echoed throughout my body, sending shivers down my spine. They were louder, sharper than the rest. They said…

"Where are you, Hachi-kun?

"Heil dem Reich!"

Hachi-kun? Does that mean… His eyes were wider than I'd ever seen before.

"Tch, two Shepherds?"

"That's not fair!" Kukumila shouted.

"Yes, I'd estimate they arrive in an hour."

"...Get in your rigs! Lieutenant Hinami, go warn the garrison. Just tell them whatever to get them to mobilize. Everyone else, we're setting up. Lieutenant Nouzen, you seem familiar with this, I trust you'll explain afterwards?" Hikigaya asked, speeding through orders as if in panic.

You could feel the hesitation in his voice, "Fine. For the time being, disconnect from Nordlicht, Chief. The voices will be distracting you."

"Why would we need to disconnect?"

"... Because the voices are coming from me."

Author's Notes:

It's the last day of the month, but that's a promise kept nonetheless...

I dunno why, but I feel like I've written a whole lot of nothing while simultaneously loading too many Chekhov's guns. Next one will be focused on Hachiman again, but will mostly be written in 3rd person, as I want to write a battle in Asato's style.

I think I'm gonna cut back on how long a chapter is. 7K a month is probably the most I can do rn, my schedule is being a bitch.

Also, congrats UnknownMinutes, you guessed my identity! I'll get to working on that smut fic… eventually… if anyone actually wants that.

—Ryoukoso, aka Zenry.