Having returned from her encounter with Chrom just the previous day, Lieutenant Wolcroft of the Grimleal 4th Army, 44th Pacification Unit Precinct marched down The Bonework's mainstreet. Like The Saltworks, located just a few kilometers to the south, The Boneworks was a city in western Ferox founded by the Grimleal after its rise. Also like The Saltworks, as well as a number of other Grimleal founded cities, The Boneworks was largely dedicated to industrial production. That being said, The Boneworks didn't actually produce something. Rather, it extracted something already in the human body.

It was the scientists of the modern Grimleal that developed the chemical concept of elements, and some thirty years after the Grimleal's rise almost two dozen were known. Many, like iron and gold, were already known to humanity. The scientists just proved that they were elements and not compounds of different substances. Phosphorus was the first to be chemically discovered, and in a display of human ingenuity, the Grimleal had already found multiple uses for it. Phosphorus is largely used for fertilizers, especially important in a world ravaged by Grima's Blight. It also sees use in fine porcelain, sulfur tipped wooden splints that can be used to quickly generate fire, and even in incendiary weapons the Grimleal has been experimenting with. To fuel this need, the Grimleal relies on cities like the aptly named settlement in Ferox to extract calcium phosphate from bone ash. Bones are literally roasted to extract the material, then clay retorts encased in a very hot brick furnace distill out the highly toxic elemental phosphorus product. The majority of these bones came from deceased animals, but not all. It wasn't entirely unheard of for the bodies of criminals, political dissidents, and Arch Surg prisoners to find their way to these facilities.

Soldiers like Wolcroft were aware of this, and Wolcroft knew full well that some of the men and women she personally arrested may have made their way into fertilizer and flammable splints. Wolcroft tried not to think about that now. Instead she thought of the cadets behind her. The young men and women that followed her were the future of the Pacification Units. Typical teenagers, she could tell they weren't really paying attention to anything she said, and she tried to interact with them whenever she could. "Alright, everybody. Gather round. There's something I need to show you here." Wolcroft looked towards two shifty looking young men on the other end of the street as the cadets formed up, still holding their private conversations and only half heartedly listening to their superior. "See those two over there? You can tell from the way they're standing that they haven't moved in some time. Loitering is illegal in busy streets like this. What do we do?"

"Kick their asses?" A young man answered.

"N-no. No! They haven't really done anything wrong, but rules like that allow us to justify questioning them. Find out if they're connected to anything else. People don't just stand around in this city for no reason. Not when you can smell the gases from the Bonework facilities in the air all the damn time. Now, we don't want to come off as hostile. We want them to open up to us if at all possible." Wolcroft turned to the two. "Hey there! Mind if we have a talk?"

"Eat me, Lieutenant Wolcroft!" One of them responded.

"Eat me raw!" The other added.

Wolcroft turned back to the cadets and tried to play it off. "Heh, well… kids. Anyways, we should probably have a few words with them. Questions?"

"Yeah. Who is Ferox?"

"Why is Aversa?"

"Where are the Emmeryns of yesteryear?"

"Balls!"

The teenaged cadets snickered at their own jokes, more because they knew each other than because they were actually funny. Wolcroft just shook her head. "Look, I might let that kind of behaviour slide, but don't be like that around an army officer. If the Commissar were here, he wouldn't take it well."

"She's right. I wouldn't take it well at all."

Wolcroft turned, slightly panicked, to find the Commissar she was under. Commissars were political officers attached to Grimleal military units to ensure they maintained a certain standard of ideological purity, and to ensure that they didn't become too independent of the government. As powerful as Gangrel had made the Grimleal army, he didn't want any possibility of a military coup. Commissars usually had major level authority, though in practice they were on par with colonels as majors were expected to defer to them if they ever disagreed. Though part of the military, Commissars were chosen for political reasons, and they almost never fought in battle. Officers hated them for interfering with military planning, and soldiers hated them for being cruel, authoritative, and uncaring of soldier's lives. Generally speaking, only the Emperor's policies mattered to them. They weren't like soldiers, and so they had little empathy for soldiers. The man standing before Wolcroft now was a particularly by the book Commissar named Letlev. He didn't usually care to interact with Pacification Units, but she was technically under his command. "Commissar Letlev!" She silently implored the cadets to be serious. "I-I wasn't expecting you."

"Ah, but I've been tasked with finding you, Lieutenant. Come with me."

"B-but-" Wolcroft straightened herself. "With all due respect, you're not generally concerned with Pacification Units, and I'm in the middle of something here."

Letlev didn't really react. He just looked to the cadets and spoke with a blank, emotionless tone. "The Grimleal thanks you for your service. You're dismissed for now. Return to your barracks. The Lieutenant will come with me."

"I'm really in the middle of something here-"

In full view of Wolcroft's cadets, Letlev stepped very close to her and almost spat into her face with his every word. Wolcroft struggled just to breathe, and her resolve melted away. "Listen to me, girl. I am a Commissar, and you are a Pacification Unit. I serve the Emperor's interests and deal with matters of national security, while you deal with drunkards and people who expose themselves in the street. Now your ass is going to come with me, or I'll have Provosts drag you and everyone you've ever known into a detainment center."

"... yes, sir."

Northtown, South Valmese Administrative Zone

Corriveau, Lisia, Ferguson, and the young woman Corriveau's Rangers had found lying in a field made their way to the nearby settlement of Northtown. The woman herself was in her twenties, with stark white hair she kept in two ponytails. The most notable piece of attire she had was a long, dark robe. Beyond that she wore only simple tan clothing and dark boots. The woman occasionally glanced over to the three Rangers that had temporarily taken her in. Ferguson had short, curly brown hair and a very serious expression that never seemed to leave his face. He wore a full set of dark red plate armor that seemed to have a strange purple iridescence to it. He definitely made for an imposing figure. By contrast, the youngest woman in the group was almost the exact opposite. Lisia had soft blonde hair kept into two ponytails, though hers extended further outwards than the woman's own. She wore a long, silver dress that seemed to keep its shape through metal wiring underneath. There were a number of ribbons in her hair, and the Mark of Grima was visibly stitched into the dress, though the woman herself didn't recognize it.

Her attention, however, was most drawn to Corriveau. The Captain of these Rangers was a young woman, perhaps a few years younger than the woman herself if not the same age, of slightly above average height. She didn't look like much compared to Ferguson, but she was a bit taller than the woman and stood well over Lisia. She was also fairly toned, yet maintained a slim and traditionally feminine figure. Corriveau's chest was covered by a padded dark red shirt. The buttons for it were located towards the left side of her body, and each button actually seemed to be a Mark of Grima. A dark purple Mark of Grima was also emblazoned over her left breast. Her entire left arm was left bare, exposing her strange birthmark, but her right shoulder was covered by an ornate piece of red plate armor. The rest of her right arm was covered by a dark red sleeve from her shirt. She also wore dark red pants and boots that went up to her knees, and a cape that flowed down around her right arm. The outside of the cape was black, and the inside was a bright red. The color scheme clashed with her blue eyes and navy blue hair, though the woman noted she seemed to be more drawn to these features because of it. At Corriveau's side was a steel sword. As the woman walked with her, she managed to get close enough to realize how detailed it was. A diamond was embedded in the pommel, and the hilt was elaborately decorated. The sword's crossguard featured a design like nothing the woman had ever seen. One of the guards actually seemed to be an elaborate depiction of Naga in her dragon form. The other a depiction of Grima. The Mark of Grima was also etched into the base of the blade itself. Beyond her sword, Corriveau had a metal, tubular device of some kind on her other hip, but the woman couldn't yet make out what it was.

For reasons she didn't understand, the woman felt very content around the Rangers, and especially while around Corriveau. Still, the lack of control she had over the situation was bothering her. "What will you do with me? Am I to be your prisoner?"

Corriveau just smiled. "Hah! You'll be free to go once we establish that you're no enemy of the Grimleal."

"The Grimleal?"

"You've never heard of the Grimleal?" Ferguson chimed in. "Ha! Someone pay this actor. She plays quite the fool. The furrowed brow is especially convincing."

"Ferguson, please. To be honest, stranger, it is odd that you're not familiar with the Grimleal. Are you serious?"

"Y-yes. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. I'll be happy to tell you about us. Rangers help the citizens of the Grimleal whenever they're in need after all."

"Am I a citizen of the Grimleal?"

"Everyone is. The Grimleal controls the entire world. It is lead by Gangrel, the Emperor, and Aversa, the High Inquisitor. Grima the Fell Dragon trusts them to rule over humanity. We serve in the Grimleal army. Specifically, we're Army Rangers. I suppose proper introductions are in order... My name is Corriveau—but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lisia."

Lisia wasn't exactly amused. "I am NOT delicate! …Hmph! Ignore my sister, please. She can be a bit thick sometimes. But you're lucky the Rangers found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening!"

"Or wolves." Ferguson added.

"Rangers? What exactly are Army Rangers?"

"We're not quite normal soldiers. We're a light infantry combat formation, and we're trained to handle any kind of situation while operating independently of other army forces. There are different Ranger divisions, but our group is smaller. We're called Special Tasks Company 5."

"Why is your group smaller?"

Corriveau shrugged. "We just are. I don't mind, though. I think smaller groups of soldiers are more effective. The Shepherds certainly proved that a few decades back."

"The Shepherds?"

"The Shepherds were a group of warriors originally formed to protect a country called Ylisse. They were heretics who tried to stop Grima's ascension, but thankfully they were put down before they did any real damage. Still… I hear they were great warriors, and I can respect that."

Ferguson squinted at his commanding officer. "Captain, perhaps this conversation isn't entirely relevant?"

"Right. Did you want to know anything else?"

The woman couldn't say she understood anything that was going on yet, but she liked talking to Corriveau. The fogginess in her head faded with every word of her smooth, reassuring voice. "Um… what about this Grima?"

Corriveau and Lisia looked genuinely surprised. Ferguson just looked annoyed. "You really don't know about the Fell Dragon?"

Lisia giggled. "She must have been living under a rock!"

"Fell Dragon?" The woman asked. "It… fell and couldn't get up?"

Lisia snickered. Corriveau shook her head, but not at all in a condescending way. The woman found herself fascinated, almost mesmerized, by how her blue hair flowed as she moved, and she didn't realize it until Corriveau's words snapped her back to attention. "Grima the Fell Dragon is a divine being that has brought peace and order to humanity. It's… it's hard to explain. Perhaps I could tell you more later."

Ferguson turned to the woman. "I'm not sure this stranger has the capacity to understand the importance of what we do."

"Don't mind Ferguson the Wary over here."

"A title I shall wear with pride. Army Rangers have a duty to the Grimleal, and we cannot trust random strangers."

Corriveau scowled. "We also have a duty to the people of the Grimleal."

"You need to be more mindful of this woman."

"But I trust her."

"Why?"

"It just… feels right."

Despite Ferguson's criticisms, the woman couldn't help but smile at what Corriveau said. She felt the same way. "I understand, sir. I would do no less myself. My name is… is-"

"You remember your name?" Corriveau asked. Ferguson looked at them both anxiously.

"Quiet! I mean, be patient, sir. We wouldn't want to ruin her concentration."

"My name is, uh… I… Phoenix?"

Ferguson raised an eyebrow. "Is that truly your name?"

"Yes?" Phoenix smiled. "Yes. That sounds right."

"Very well. Phoenix it is."

"Phoenix? Is that foreign? …Ah, well. We can discuss it later. We're almost to town. Once we—"

"Corriveau, look! The town!"

Everyone looked to what Lisia was pointing at. In the distance was the small settlement of Northtown. Smoke was rising from one of the buildings, and screams could faintly be heard. "Something's wrong with the town! Ferguson, Lisia! Quickly! Rangers lead the way!"

"What about her?" Ferguson asked.

"Unless she's screaming about something, she can wait."

"Aptly put, Captain."

Lisia nodded. "Let's go already!"

The Rangers ran ahead, leaving Phoenix behind. "But what about— Hmm…" Hesitating for but an instant, Phoenix ran after them.

By the time the Rangers arrived to protect the settlement, the streets of Northtown were already largely abandoned. Unfortunately, one young maiden couldn't make it inside, and now she desperately tried to flee as the town's attackers set their sights on her. There wasn't a sensation in existence more primal than what the girl was feeling now, as her pursuers weren't human. They weren't attacking for any complex reason. Even simple human greed was beyond them. These were not brigands or soldiers, but killing machines of matted fur and gnashing teeth, propelled by powerful muscles that surged forward with the promise of salvation from the crippling hunger that enveloped them. For everything the woman was to her community and family, she was nothing more than a potential meal to these predators, and they hurled themselves after her. The timeless battle between predator and prey. The root of all violence.

With but a loss of footing, one mistake, the woman was sent to the ground, no longer able to escape. She sat up and looked just time to see a gray wolf, abnormally thin from starvation, sink its teeth into her exposed leg. The woman screamed, partially out of pain and partially in an attempt to scare away the canine, and tried kicking the beast with her other leg, but the wolf wouldn't budge. It just continued to bite down while twisting its head, and in another second it might have severed an artery had a bullet not passed clean through its skull. The woman glanced up to see Corriveau holster her New Model Ranger, and together they were able to free her leg from the wolf's jaw. "Are you alright?!"

The woman struggled to speak through the pain. "My leg!"

"Hold on." Lisia kneeled by the girl's side and applied her healing staff. Save for the blood, it was like the wound was never there. "All better?"

The maiden smiled as Corriveau helped her up. "Thank you! Oh Grima bless you!"

"We'll protect the town, just get inside!"

Lisia approached the dead wolf warily as the girl fled. "This town isn't being attacked by brigands!"

"Strange. I've heard of wolves attacking caravans and camps recently, but an entire town?" Corriveau drew her sword and turned at the sound of something approaching to find Phoenix approaching her.

"Wait!"

"Phoenix! You followed us! Why?"

"I…I'm not certain myself. But I'm armed, and I know my way around a fight, if you'll have me."

Ferguson glared at her. "Captain, I'm not sure having her at our back is a good idea."

"We need all the help we can get. These wolves are starving. They'll attack without fear, and we have no idea how many are in the streets. Besides, if Phoenix is willing to protect the people of the Grimleal, then that's enough for me." Corriveau put her hand on Phoenix's shoulder, and the two women nodded to each other. "We'll be happy to let you fight."

"T-thank you! I'll prove myself to you, Corriveau." Phoenix's smile faded slightly as she turned to Ferguson, but she remained determined. "And to you."

"Oh I'll be watching you." Ferguson readied his weapon and muttered to himself. "More than you'll ever realize."

"And that was the last you saw of Chrom?"

Wolcroft slowly brought her head up to look at Letlev. Gone was her smooth and elegant Pacification Unit armor, and so too was her pride. The lieutenant had been stripped to her smallclothes, and cuts and bruises covered her bare skin. A severe gash ran along the right side of Wolcroft's face, leaving her blind in that eye, and burn marks could be found all over her body. Some were caused by magic, some by more physical means. Wolcroft herself was taken by involuntary shivering, and her voice choked with every word she tried to say. It was all the willpower she had left to look her torturer in the eye and speak audibly. "Yes. Ye-he-hes! That's everything that happened!"

"Why didn't you tell us this before? Did you think we wouldn't find out?" Letlev put his arms on the small table Wolcroft's own were now chained too and leaned into her. As much as Wolcroft wanted to look at anything else, her only chance now was to be sincere, and the small, windowless room didn't provide any other visuals. "What do you have to say for yourself, Lieutenant?" Letlev's voice was calm and collected, and it terrified Wolcroft. She knew he could have a lowly soldier erased from history in the blink of an eye, and he wouldn't lose any sleep over it. He'd probably done it dozens of times before.

"Please! I… I didn't… he wasn't… I-I've been loyal to the Grimleal my entire life! MY ENTIRE LIFE! PLE-HEASE! That has to mean something! Right?! RIGHT?!"

Letlev didn't even consider it for a second. Four soldiers, each one a muscular man that weighed as much as two Wolcrofts, walked into the room as if the screaming was enough to tell them what was going to happen next. "You let a criminal get away. Someone that the Emperor himself has ordered killed. Your actions are nothing short of treason."

"No. N-no! NO! Grima help me!"

Letlev continued. "You are a traitor to the motherland."

One of the men put his hand on Wolcroft's shoulder, crushing it. "What do we do with her, Commissar?"

"She needs to disappear. There will be no trial. Nothing public. Make sure no one ever hears from her again. Take her to Camp Hope. I don't want to see this stunted slime in my sight again!" The four men forced Wolcroft out of her chair, unchained her, and seized each of her limbs. They then callously carried her away to her future as an unperson, ignoring her desperate protests and claims of devotion. Letlev was entirely apathetic to her cries, and he simply took a flammable splint, made in that very city, and used it to light a cigar. "Another leak has been plugged."

Phoenix looked around as she put away a thunder tome and bronze sword. "Well that's the end of that."

"Lucky for the town, we were close by. But holy wow, Phoenix! You were incredible! Swords, sorcery, AND tactics! Is there anything you can't do?"

Corriveau nodded in agreement with her sister. "You're certainly no helpless victim, that much is for sure."

Ferguson sheathed his weapon. "Indeed. Perhaps you might even be capable of an explanation for how you came here?"

Phoenix couldn't say she was afraid of Ferguson anymore after facing down almost two dozen feral wolves, and she didn't back down. At the same time she tried to be understanding of his position. "I understand your skepticism, Ferguson. And I cannot explain why only some knowledge has returned to me. But please, believe me. I have shared all that I know."

Corriveau nodded to her. "You fought to save Grimleal lives. My heart says that's enough."

"And your mind, Captain? Will you now heed its council as well?"

"Ferguson, the Rangers could use someone with Phoenix's talents. With that many wolves, we could have been overwhelmed without her strategies. It was like she could see things we couldn't see. She could feel the tide of battle. We've brigands and terrorists, all looking to bloody our soil. Would you really have us lose such an able tactician? Besides, I believe her story, odd as it might be."

"J-join the Rangers?! We're not a militia!"

"We've always been granted a great deal of independence. Maybe we could talk to my elder sister about it."

"Th-thank you, Corriveau."

"So how about it? Will you join us, Phoenix?"

"I would be honored."

With the fighting over the Rangers took time to look over the aftermath of the battle, if violence against animals could be called that. Each and every wolf was frail from starvation. Many had visible signs of disease from hunger weakening their immune systems. Neither Corriveau or Phoenix took any pleasure in having killed them, even if it was necessary to protect the town. "This is unprecedented." Ferguson said to his captain as he approached. "Wolf attacks on isolated groups are becoming increasingly common, but an attack on a settlement like this? It's unheard of."

Phoenix looked inquisitively at the bodies. "I may be suffering from amnesia, but I know what a wolf is. They're not supposed to be this dangerous."

"The world's changing." Corriveau responded grimly. "The Fell Dragon has done a lot of good for humanity… but its ascension was destructive. When Grima was resurrected, it unleashed a disease called Grima's Blight on the world. Grima's Blight destroys soil, making it impossible for plants to grow in infected areas. Without plants, herbivores don't have any food. Without herbivores-"

"Carnivores like wolves have no food."

"Exactly. Countless species of animals have gone extinct. Now wolves are dying out. It's becoming so difficult for them to find food that they've started looking towards human settlements. A few years back there were reports of them walking down the streets of cities looking for trash. Then the attacks started."

"But why would they attack a large settlement like this? Predators go after easy meals."

Ferguson looked to one of the dead wolves. "They've been driven insane by hunger. Think of it this way. If they attack a human settlement there's a large chance they'll be killed, but a small chance they'll get a meal. If they do nothing, there's a guaranteed chance they'll starve to death. Attacking is the most logical solution. They have no choice."

Corriveau sighed. "I don't want to have to kill them. There's no malice in their hearts. They're just animals. They're just hungry."

"Still, Phoenix brings up a good point. I don't think they'd attack a settlement this large on their own. Something doesn't add up. Remember that we saw smoke rising from the town. Wolves can't start fires."

"Do you think… someone caused this?"

The Rangers turned as a elderly man approached. "Oh thank you! Thank you! Truly Lord Lieutenant Emervidia is looking out for us! You must let us repay you! The town of Sun Hollow doesn't have much to spare, but we will have a feast in your honor!"

Phoenix frowned. "Sun Hollow? I thought this was Northtown?"

"Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry. For centuries this town was called Sun Hollow, but the Politburo made us change the name to Northtown just a few years ago. I'm… still not used to it."

"The Politburo?"

"A nickname for the Political Bureau." Corriveau answered. "They rule from High Point, the true capital of the Grimleal."

"High Point? Where's that?"

"We… don't know. It moves."

"A moving city?!"

"It's a long story."

Ferguson turned to the man and nodded. "A most generous offer, sir, and no doubt your hospitality would be grand... But I'm afraid we must hurry back to Nurubiru."

"Dark meat only for me, medium well, and no salt in the soup. I simply— Wait, what?! We're not staying?! But, Ferguson, it's nearly dark!"

"When night falls, we'll camp. Eat off the land, make our bed of twigs and the like... I believe you mentioned you would be "getting used to this"?"

"Ferguson? Sometimes I hate you."

Ferguson looked at Phoenix expectedly, as if she were about to say something, but she didn't. Frowning, he turned back to the villager. "We noticed smoke rising from one of your buildings. I don't suppose you were attacked by a new breed of tool using wolves?"

"No. There were Arch Surg here earlier."

"Arch Surg!" Corriveau and Lisia exclaimed.

"Arch Surg?" Phoenix wondered, her voice completely innocent.

"Yes. The man continued. "There were just a few scouts. They… they did the strangest thing. They were scattering dead livestock everywhere. Pigs, sheep, chickens, things like that. All the bodies were half slaughtered too. We honestly didn't think we could drive them off. We only have a few old matchlock arquebuses. But they left as soon as we fought back. Then the wolves came.

Phoenix's eyes lit up, as if she were in the minds of the Arch Surg for a second. "They lured the wolves here. They must have known a wolf pack was nearby. Those bodies would have driven the starving wolves into a bloodlust, but there wouldn't have been much meat on them if they were half slaughtered."

"So the wolves would turn to the people in the town." Corriveau added. Phoenix nodded.

"They used them as a kind of… biological warfare."

"Tricky sons o' bitches!"

Lisia gasped. "Sister! Your language! We have a guest."

"Oh, right… sorry."

Phoenix giggled. "It's fine. So who are these Arch Surg?"

"Well you're just full of questions." Ferguson said dryly. "We could easily find you a job with the tax collection services. You'd be very good at audits."

"Enough, Ferguson!" Corriveau snapped. "It means Archanean Insurgency. We also call them Able Sierra, terrorists, and rebels. They call themselves the Archanean Liberation Front. Arch Surg is a common term for them. Hell, some of their soldiers call themselves that."

"They're trying to destroy the peace and order the Grimleal has brought to the world." Ferguson spoke up.

"And the people are caught in the middle." Lisia added, a sadness in her voice.

"Who leads these Arch Surg?"

"A woman named Archangel, but the Grimleal knows almost nothing about her." Corriveau replied. "However, as the name suggests, the Arch Surg isn't based in this continent. Their forces in Valm are commanded by a man named Dalton. He's not to be underestimated. They say he was once a general in Walhart's Empire. They say he fought the Shepherds and lived."

"Walhart's Empire?"

"Heh. I have a lot to tell you, Phoenix."

"Well…" She smiled to herself. "I'd look forward to some one on one time with you."

Ferguson cleared his throat. "Anyways, shall we be off? We'll need to talk to Emervidia if Phoenix is to join us."

"Emervidia?"

Lisia smiled. "Our elder sister. Don't worry. I'm sure she'll like you once she hears about what happened here."

In the distance, overlooking the town, a lone figure once again stood watching the Rangers. The man still wore his strange armor, and the Mark of Naga over where his right eye would be if his helmet had any features glowed as he monitored them. "Fools. All of you. Falling into these roles so easily. Thinking you're acting of your own volition. Your moves are not your own. They're echoes of men and women that came before." The man stopped at the sound of growling, and he turned to see a wolf approaching him. The wolf snarled and prepared to attack, but the man only reacted with annoyance. "Piss off, you little scamp! Can't you see I'm trying to MONOLOGUE here!" The wolf ignored him, and the man sighed. "Oh for Naga's sake."

The wolf charged, but the man waved his arm and caused bright light to emanate from him. Apathetic, the wolf leapt up and tried to tackle the man to the ground, but he disappeared into golden light. The wolf passed through him, leaving the beast with nothing but confusion.