Hello everyone, long time no see! Before we begin with anything, I would just like to heavily apologize for the super long wait. I won't seek justification and be blunt with you all - I got burnt out. A lot. Some of you might've noticed I posted other fanfics in the meantime, and you'd be correct to assume that I wasn't burnt out on them, at least for a while. However, I am slowly getting back into it as I adjust my writing schedule with my university schedule, since that's gonna be a problem this October. Anyways, I would just like to thank all of you for sticking with me during this hiatus, and thank you all for the compliments and well-wishes! Without any further ado, let us begin!

EARTH: SOUTH-EASTERN CAVE SYSTEM, 9:15 AM

DAY AFTER CONVERSATION WITH COUNT FORMAL

ROBERT DUDLEY P.O.V

"Number eighty-seven, please step up! I repeat, number eighty-seven, please step up!"

The raffle was going fine for the time being, with everything being as organized as it could possibly be, given this was the very first raffle these people had ever participated in. Perhaps there was something similar back in their world, but certainly not identical. And most definitely not for who gets out of this cave first. Of course, like every raffle, something had to be rigged. Robert and Count Formal had quite a conversation yesterday, which made them both understand that, if Formal wanted to keep his possessions and status, and if New Manchester wanted to survive, no Imperial soldier could leave Alnus Hill, at least not until evacuation was complete. Those fiercely loyal to the Count were given preferential treatment, with at least two of them being given a position on each Steam Lorry. They knew how to keep the men in order, or so Robert hoped. For now, everything was somewhat under control - there were a few incidents involving arguments, but that was to be expected.

Robert took this time to sit down on one of the rocks, rest his legs a little after standing around for most of yesterday and all of today thus far. Moving his glasses out of the way, the Captain rubbed his eyes, sighing as he did, before putting them back in their proper place, and beginning to survey the large space before him. Unsanitary, packed to the brim, constant supervision needed, and more importantly, almost non-ending food deliveries necessary. This would, of course, be alleviated by some of them leaving each day or every other day, but there were always complications. Medicine was also critical for these people, and that would be one of the major obstacles. Unless they established a semi-permanent presence here, they would simply not be able to meet demand or intensify supply by making some of the medicine on-site.

"Number one-hundred-and-twelve, you're up! Just one more available!"

He adjusted his glasses a little, taking the liberty of procuring a polaroid from his breast pocket - one of the only things he actually brought with him on the expedition north. Flicking it upward in order to see it once again, a smile crept up his lips. On the polaroid were two women, a child, and two men, posing as if for a family picture that was very slowly becoming popular in Europe. His eyes lingered on the small child, a heavy sigh being released by the engineer. "Oh Elisabeth, where could you possibly be?" He asked himself, pondering on all the possibilities. He did everything he could to ensure she got onto a Dreadnought up north, and to a relatively affluent one, too, going as far as to threatening those in-charge. And following up on one. He hoped it was worth it.

"The last one on-board is..." The man stopped, looking over the number carefully. "Number three! I repeat, number three, you're up! Please step forward and prepare for the journey!" He yelled into the megaphone, intensifying the echo for even those farthest from him could hear. Robert moved his eyes from the polaroid, pocketing it neatly once more, and watching. He could see shifting among the soldiers, from further back, though he couldn't see just who it was yet. There was already murmured talk among the troops about who it could be, until Robert could finally see them, or rather, his coat. He watched patiently as the Bunny Warrior slowly made her way, pushing through the Saderans with what strength she had. From what Count Formal told him, Bunny Warriors were exceptional warriors, with reflexes, speed and strength far beyond that of regular humans. But Robert knew what malnutrition and unnatural cold could do to the individual - it makes them barely mobile, barely able to lift a mere bowl, and more importantly, gets them closer to death. No sooner had she gotten near Albert, the man with the megaphone, had he seen a tug at her coat, yanking her backward with some soldiers moving as if being pushed backward.

Robert kicked to his feet, bringing his hunting rifle from his shoulder, and leveling it in the general direction of the Bunny Warrior, her ears now visible to him. "Let go of the coat and you won't be harmed!" He spoke roughly, authoritatively, so that others could perhaps part ways and give him a closer and clearer look at whoever was dragging her back. And part they did, revealing a... unimpressive man, the man no older than twenty-two or so, clawing at the coat with all the might he could muster. The Bunny Warrior wasn't defenseless, doing her best to break free from him, contemplating on ditching the coat as far as he could see.

"S-She's a filthy demi-human! I deserve to go!" He yelled out in his native tongue, only inciting a glare from Robert, the Captain of his Generator Site and their whole expedition racking the bolt of his rifle menacingly, aiming in-between the soldier's eyes. They didn't know what guns were, or how they worked, or just how bloody loud they could be. Albert saw what was to happen, already preparing to slam his hands onto his ears, another one of Robert's men grabbing his own rifle, though his needed maintenance sorely. Being among the four people that actually brought guns to the Generator had its benefits, but also its drawbacks - namely, almost no one to work with on fixing them up.

"Last warning, let go." Robert stated once more, much to the confusion of the soldiers. Robert could almost read the man's thoughts, thinking about what his 'stick' could possibly do, especially from such a distance. The two shifting made it hard for Robert to aim, but as soon as the Bunny Warrior slinked out of the coat in nearly an instant, and the soldier began tumbling backward, he took his chance. Moments turned into hours inside Robert's mind as he pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun firing the bullet made louder to him than it actually was, ringing in his ears. His heart, in but a single split second, beat faster than it did in the last several years, straining itself more and more, right up until the soldier was struck, collapsing onto the floor, his head now with a bleeding hole. Robert's chest rose and fell at a faster rate, the Captain putting the strap of his rifle back onto his shoulder after confirming no one would approach him with less-than-reputable intent. Everyone was clutching their heads, the soldiers, and even the Bunny Warrior, scared in various degrees by the weapon he used.

He approached the dead soldier, taking the coat from his now limp arms, and dusting it off slightly. He turned around to face the female demihuman, handing over the coat to her. "It's best you run along now. Transport's waiting on you." He said calmly, turning his head to face Albert, who was sighing in frustration, and perhaps even disappointment that it came to this. "Albert, everything ready?"

"Aye, Captain." Albert began, though was quick to ask a question. "Was it truly necessary, sir? He could've been subdued."

"Perhaps." Robert admitted, pondering on it for but a moment, before elaborating on what he was thinking. "But I'm not willing to have people make death threats of any kind. Soldiers kill, Albert, unless someone else kills them. Better us than their own, I suppose. Truth be told, however," He began once again. "I think there could've been another solution. With time, though, and we don't have any of it."

"I see, sir..." Albert nodded, still grimacing at the corpse. He had seen someone shot back in London, for he was a direct witness to a grizzly murder back in the British capitol, but he still couldn't get used to it, even if it would be more common during the Frost. "Shall I stay here and explain everything to the Count?"

"Please do." Robert stated, walking past Albert as he patted his shoulder. "And Oscar, have this, will you? It's unjammed." He motioned to the other engineer, grabbing his rifle and handing it over to Oscar, the man giving his own rifle to the Captain in return, muttering a silent thanking. With all business done and accounted for, and the first raffle complete, Robert Dudley began leaving the cave, a sour taste in his mouth that'd stick for days. Third notch, and hopefully the last one he'd ever make.

EARTH: OUTPOST 11, 3:12 PM

MARTIN WARD P.O.V.

"Captain Robins, as we said yesterday, we have found a Mechanized Lancer inside the Army Warehouse, and it is my opinion, as a former Major in Her Majesty's Army, and veteran of... no, no, this won't do." Martin grumbled as he paced around the radio room inside the Administration Building, waiting patiently for the call that was to come. In addition to a personal conversation he would be having, he'd have to speak with Captain Edward Robins, recently named Captain of New London, one of Arthur's closest supporters and a former IEC employee himself. Supported him through thick and thin, from their first arrival to the Londoner Crisis. From the incoming refugees of Nansen's warning to the Great Storm itself. Martin had to explain what exactly a Mechanized Lancer was, since it wasn't that well understood by the general public, the people only knowing that it was a war machine deployed in the Balkan War. Hopefully he didn't need to dispel the confusion between himself and the other Major Ward from the Raj. Felix Ward was an entirely different person, and they simply did not even look similar, yet he had to explain the difference to a number of people in London, it was maddening.

A knock on the closed doors interrupted his thoughts, Martin turning his head slightly toward it - he wasn't expecting anyone to be coming here at this hour. The Administration Clerks were dealing with cataloguing the latest shipment to New London. But as soon as the doors opened enough for him to see who it was, he couldn't but give the person a smile. Barely nineteen years old, the young woman before him had smooth blonde hair, with soft facial features and bright green eyes looking at him, a near-permanent smile on her face. She had a coat on her, which was most likely recently unbuttoned, revealing clothes worn by doctors working in Medical Posts and Infirmaries. Elisabeth Opheila Kestner was one of the most optimistic members of their expedition to the warehouse, and it most certainly showed, even during the Great Storm.

"Elisabeth. I wasn't expecting you here." Martin mentioned, motioning for her to come in, and perhaps hear her out as to why she was coming to the radio room.

"Oh, Mr. Ward, I didn't know you were in here." Elisabeth said in quite a cheery voice, closing the doors behind her as she came a little more into the room. "I wanted to ask the clerks if they could call New London and request some supplies from one of the Infirmaries. I heard it's going to get colder in a day or two, and the doctors want to be ready for anyone who might get sick." She stated, and before Martin could object to being called Mr. Ward for the umpteenth time by the girl, she added a question. "Can I ask why you are here? You're usually at the warehouse helping out."

"That I am, Elisabeth." He admitted, confirming her statement. "I am simply here to contact Captain Robins about what we found yesterday, or rather, explain to him what it is exactly." He elaborated, sighing faintly as he did. "I simply don't know how exactly to tell him without dragging on. He's busy with New London, and as much as he would love for me to explain everything in detail, and perhaps throw in a story or two from Zulu, I simply can't."

"Maybe you can use something as an example?" She asked and suggested, earning a look of intrigue from the old man. "I don't know what that thing you found is, but maybe you can use something as an example to describe it better!" She firmly suggested now, seeing Martin slowly begin to nod in agreement.

"Perhaps that could work... well, thank you for the suggestion, Elisabeth. Would you like me to ask the Captain for the equipment?" He asked, receiving a positive reply from Elisabeth, Martin smiling some more. "Alright, then. I'll ask him as soon as I'm done talking with him." Martin affirmed, receiving quite a big 'thank you' from Elisabeth non-verbally, before the young girl left the room he was in. And just in the nick of time, too - the radio was receiving a request from New London. Sitting down on the chair that was in front of the desk, and preparing all the equipment, he began speaking, now connected to the heart of their society. "Outpost 11, we copy you New London."

"New London to Outpost 11, we can hear you, as well. Martin, is that you?" The familiar voice of the Captain asked, already making Martin tense up, before relaxing again. No need to get worked up. Dr. Johnson advised quite heavily against that.

"This is Martin Ward, Captain. Good to hear from you." He replied, already waiting for the Captain to speak again.

"Good to hear from you, as well. I'd chat a little, but New London can only do so much with my replacements while I'm here. You said you wanted to explain what one of those 'Mechanized Lancers' was?"

"Indeed, sir. Now, I know your time is precious, so I will try to condense it." He began, though paused shortly thereafter. Following Elisabeth's suggestion was something he wanted to do, but what could he use as an example? A stick and a rock? No, too simple. Something from his life? Absolutely not - Nora would murder him on the spot. Perhaps... yes... that could possibly do. "Sir, I'd like you to imagine New London as a soldier." Martin started, waiting for the Captain to acknowledge him before continuing. "This soldier has been through thick and thin. Imagine the drops in temperature we've had as obstacles. As you know, we beat them all, and thrived, and so too did this soldier, he beat all his opponents. Now imagine the Great Storm as explosives going off around the soldier. He can't do anything about it, just duck and pray he doesn't get blown up. And Captain? Remember the final drop before it ended? The tail end of the Storm?" He asked, the deathly silent Captain responding after a few seconds.

"I do." Was his reply, pure and simple in nature.

"That's the Mechanized Lancer." He ended it at that, staring at the equipment with anticipation. Robins was silent, though sounds could be heard from his side - shuffling, a muted conversation and barely audible walking sounds from loud boots. After around a minute, perhaps even two or three, Captain Edward Robins asked his own question.

"...what do you suggest we do with it?"

"Keep it for now." Martin said. "Can't do anything with it, either way. Not without fixing its Computational Engine, and good luck finding parts for it even in a warehouse."

"I see..." Robins spoke out, trailing off for but a single moment. "I think I understand well enough, thank you. Anything else you wanted to add?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Dr. Kestner requested some equipment from one of the Infirmaries to prepare for the cold spell that'll hit us in a few days. Do you think the city would be able to spare some?" He asked in Elisabeth's name. Hopefully Robins wouldn't disappoint and give a flat out refusal.

"We won't be able to send everything she'll need, but we can spare the materials the doctors there will need to make what they lack themselves. Expect it to arrive early tomorrow."

"Thank you for the assistance, Captain." Martin thanked, stopping to consider something. He didn't talk to her in a while, not since Nora got sick when he left. Thank god she was fine, but Emily kept growing a little distant with him, even before the Storm... "Captain? Could you ask Emily to come talk with me by any chance?"

FALMART

EDWARD FORD P.O.V.

Today was a rather eventful day. Everyone worked overtime to set up tents for the families which crossed through, so that the rest could focus on beginning construction of more permanent homes for each and every one of them. As much as they wanted personal homes, they needed speed over needs... and he doubted they didn't grow fond of their current houses, at least partially. However, he wasn't out there helping the workers make the houses, for he was bogged down conversing with the leaders of the Allied Kingdoms, and their infallible princess, Pina Co Lada.

"Gentlemen. I presume you have questions, otherwise I wouldn't have been called here. What can I do for you?" He asked them politely, and with a degree of respect, just to make them feel more talkative, since he was talking to royalty. As much as he disliked one in particular, he still had to show his best to them all collectively - one unsatisfied royal could quickly turn into all of them being unsatisfied and less communicative. The King of Alguna, if his knowledge given to him by King Duran were correct, was the first to speak up.

"One of my soldiers has had his leg completely ripped off by one of your iron beasts, and yet he walks with a metal one. Tell me, academic, is there something special with it?" He asked, already having all eyes fall back onto Edward, as the other kings were curious, as well.

"To answer your question, your majesty, I would simply put it like this. It is nothing more and nothing less than what you might think it is - a leg made out of iron. What makes the leg special is the way it can move just like a normal leg." He began, already trying to explain it to them all. To their credit, they managed to not look confused, some even nodding in slight understanding as Edward talked about the prosthetic. "Now, I don't have one of these legs with me, but there is a metal pole that can extend from the calve of the leg. To put it in simple terms, you can see if the leg is working by pulling out the pole. If it's dirty and covered in black soot, it works. If there is barely anything on the pole, that means you need to pull at a piece of wood that's inside the leg. It should be around the knee. Pull that as hard as you can until your leg vibrates a little, and after that, just leave it be for a minute. It will begin working again."

"And how simple would it be to make one of these legs?" The princess was now the one who asked, butting into the explanation at just the right moment - she wasn't completely devoid of proper manners, after all. Silent murmurs of the same question repeated a few times, before the engineer began elaborating.

"The leg itself is simple to make. Everything inside of it is a little more difficult, but not something your blacksmiths couldn't learn with some help." He commented, already catching some of the kings become that much more interested. Prosthetics were simple things, and they could rather easily get away with making them en masse, since the Empire wouldn't know any better. Besides, the soldier he gave the leg to was adjusting to it with astonishing speed. "Another thing I would like to add is that there are also arms. They work the same as the leg - a metal pole you have to pull out to check if the arm is working, and if not, pull at a piece of wood around the elbow. Just be aware anyone with these metal arms and legs has to come to us to see if they work at least once a year. But I assume we would have some of your blacksmiths already trained to do such things each year."

"To give motion back to those that lost it. An honour restored to a warrior, I must say - some of my best men could use these to give them back their strength." The King of Mudwan declared, some of the other kings agreeing with him openly. Of course some of them would only think about the military applications, but at this point, Edward wasn't willing to actually get into that topic.

"As we all agree on that, I believe we are missing something else that we should talk about." King Duran suddenly spoke up, catching everyone's attention with his statement, loud and clear for them all. "With all due respect, Ser Edward. I have seen your world, and while I do not understand what became of it, I insist on knowing more about your Empire. What was it like before such a calamity akin to divine punishment claimed you?" Duran asked sincerely, no malice or underlying motive present, though he was wary of any answers.

Pina, on the other hand, suppressed a smile. At last, some concrete information! The vassals which kept her here, fools as they were, were smart enough to keep sending messengers to Sadera in order to brief her father on the status of their more-than-false search for the legions. Any information which could paint these 'Englishmen' as savages, conquerors and, if possible, honourless swine, would ensure a swift response. But before she could think further, Edward began talking.

"Now, that is a rather lengthy topic... but I suppose we can at least begin talking about it." Edward started, clearing his throat so that he could start talking. "The British Empire was one of the largest empires on Earth, controlling colonies on all seven continents that Earth has. Anyone who challenged it with military force fell, and while they could challenge her in other ways, she was firmly in lead as far as technology was concerned. And, contrary to what you might believe, we weren't an empire per se. We were similar to a republic, except we had a royal family with ceremonial powers." He could already see at least two kings and dukes frown at that, though they kept their eyes on him. "And we were the very first, and the only ones, to have made Automatons, the iron beasts you saw these last few days. We also had a lot of resources which we spent on constructing a mighty navy and ships of steel, ones which could keep our island safe, and our holdings under our control."

"But how was it challenged, if I may ask?" The Duke of Ligu inquired, inciting curiosity from Edward. "You said that its military could not be matched. What other ways could it be challenged by? Economy?"

"You would be correct, your majesty." Edward once more started explaining, already feeling that this was going to make some of the nobles scoff. "Economically, the British Empire was evenly matched with a group of nations. One of them is the French Republic, and another the United States of America. None of the two have royal families, and none of the two called themselves empires. There was one other empire, but they didn't get far before the world as we knew it started falling apart."

"And how did it start falling apart?" Pina asked again, now most definitely to annoy him. Had he not explained this time and time again? If he didn't know better, he'd think she was genuinely curious - no, that snake of a princess was planning something, but he couldn't do anything but talk and answer questions if he actually wanted to keep the people safe. That was his first priority. Keep everyone safe, no matter the cost. He did that on Earth, and by God he would do it here, as well. "Oh this is going to be a long day..." He muttered under his breath, sighing as he prepared to answer her. A long, long day indeed...