– December 1935 –

Operation Cygnus had come to its logical end. It had resulted in a tactical defeat for the Atlantic Federation's Squad E, who were in the process of being marched out of the city by Commissar Leopold and his men. On the other hand, it was an operational disaster for the East European Imperial Alliance, which had proven itself incapable of defending its own capital city. Standing amidst his motherland's darkest hour was Montgomery York, who could only stare mouth agape at the smoldering destruction of Arch Plaza, where the thick of the fighting had occurred. The unshakable Lord Commissar of Schwartzgrad, its most devoted protector, found himself unable to truly comprehend the scale of damage inflicted on his beloved Schwartzgrad. A cascade of emotions soon overwhelmed him: grief, as he realized his Empire had been slain on the Emperor's very doorstep, followed by madness few others would comprehend–the depressed madness of a patriot who had witnessed the death of what he held most dear. He stared wordlessly at the gnash left in the Earth that led back toward the inlet of the Crystal Sea.

Finally, his despair overtook him; Montgomery, feeling faint, attempted to steady himself with his cane. It was no different than losing a loved one, creating heaviness in his chest as if his heart itself had been torn from his rib cage. Inevitably, his good leg buckled, and he fell toward the cobblestone street.

Before he could hit the ground, York found himself held in place by a pair of arms from behind him. He blinked, before turning to see his right-hand man, Karl Ludwig. Montgomery's lips curled upward in relief, before he quickly waved his comrade away, straightening himself. Only a second passed before a deep frown returned to his face once more. Staring forward, he spoke, "How did it come to this, Ludwig? When did we allow our Empire to die?"

It was a rare occasion for Ludwig to see his boss truly angry. He stood alongside York, stoically tapping a cigarette out from the pack tucked in his inner coat pocket. " We are not responsible for this shameful outcome. Rather, it seems our greatest fears have been realized," he answered, continuing to speak as he lit the cigarette between his lips. "Those with power and affluence seek to rob our motherland of her dignity. They have left her mangled in order to enrich their selfish appetites." He took a moment to let his poetic words sink in, taking a drag from the smoke. Hesitantly, he added, "His Majesty has agreed to the terms of the ceasefire. For now, until we have a better understanding of the situation."

The news did much to further enrage Montgomery, who tightened his grip on the silver-headed hilt of his cane. His expression contorted into a scowl, born from a long-festering resentment toward those he considered nothing less than parasitic leeches. "In doing so, he has betrayed us, Ludwig. Sacrificing our Empire's self-respect, rendering our peoples' sacrifices in vain." Behind them, the bodies of the Imperial division were being lined up. Losses were total–every single, fresh-faced conscript deployed had perished in the fighting. "Our own Emperor is a coward–a sniveling coward who fled from his post in the face of the West!" Montgomery raised his cane like it was a sword, declaring, "The Imperial Alliance is dead! Those who would proclaim themselves her masters have plunged a dagger into her back!" It was a treasonous declaration, had it been spoken by anyone other than the Lord Commissar. He was the arbiter of what constituted treason and, in Montgomery's mind, he alone was free of all guilt. The last loyal servant to the Imperial State who had adopted him as her son many years ago.

His eyes flicked to his subordinate, who was smoking quietly. "But she will live again. It's time to show the Federation that our Empire stands eternal, the last true defender of Europe!" There was a slight shake to his voice, matching the tremor of his hands, and behind his blue eyes was a fanatical intensity that caused even Karl to shift uneasily. To emphasize his point, Montgomery then slammed his cane into the ground as a chilling breeze blew through the narrow alleyways of the city, causing his coat to flap erratically, "This wasn't the act of a mere rogue division. X-0 was a pustule, the symptom of a larger rot that has infected our entire military!" His arms flew outward, creating the image of a crow, much like the superstitious sobriquet granted to his men, as he gestured to the destruction. "I have been tolerant for far too long! Our Commissariat has been vindicated! We are beholden to no one any more! All those who stood idle while this disaster unfolded have shown their true colors. They have chosen to make themselves obsolete!"

Karl couldn't help but smile at the passionate declaration. He exhaled a cloud of smoke before speaking. "As you say, Lord Commissar. What are your orders? How shall we inflict justice?"

"Justice?" Montgomery repeated the word aloud, returning both hands to the top of his cane as he considered their options. "Censor all publications related to this unforgivable mess. As far as the newsprint are concerned, this never happened. Our people cannot be allowed to become doubtful." He started to grin, a monstrous smile, behind which lurked a fanatical fury. "Every single person responsible, regardless of rank or status, is hereby obsolete in the eyes of the state. We are going to send a message to the rest of the army, to the aristocracy, to every single bloody rodent that lurks in the shadows. Failure, hesitation, corruption and cowardice; these are no longer luxuries we can afford."

Karl nodded, having expected such an order. The Imperial Commissariat was unique compared to the other branches of the sprawling Empire's bureaucracy. Its primary function was to maintain unity, regardless of the cost–and despite the nobility's privileges in society, even they trembled when a Commissar knocked upon their golden doors.

Seeing his boss was finished, he spoke calmly, "Ulyana and her men are currently collecting the remnants of X-0. Once disarmed, they will be brought here so that you may dispense justice personally." He paused, taking another long drag, "Volker is entertaining himself with what looks to be the body of X-0's strategist. The Gallian wretch unfortunately chose to die during the fighting…" The Lord Commissar grunted as they knew the head torturer's unsavory hobbies. Finally, Karl concluded, "Comrade Manfred is in the process of searching the Orcinus Magnus. It's pretty banged up, though it is surprisingly still functional."

"As to be expected. Heinrich liked to build things to last," Montgomery commented dryly. The mere thought of his rival was enough to cause him to grit his teeth. "No sign of that miserable cur, I assume?" He already had some theories about the Doctor's loyalty.

Karl shook his head in response. "Gone, as you predicted. Not a trace."

Montgomery clicked his tongue, having felt the whole situation was in line with Belgar's overly complicated schemes. His Commissariat had been out maneuvered again by the bloody traitor. He sighed. "What of Varrick?"

"Dead. Shot himself as instructed," Karl answered morosely. Losing a member of the flock was never easy. Especially the beating heart of the Commissariat, who had defined its trajectory for many years. "The entire archive is in ashes, though. He has earned his retirement."

Montgomery's shoulders drooped, folding into the black of his uniform. "And so we have lost yet another of our very best. A spark in the darkness, our Empire's sturdiest pillar, has been claimed. Not by the Federation and their ilk, but by the corrupt worms who have burrowed into our motherland's heart." He reached over, pulling Karl closer, before hissing, "Investigate the Science Board. Any remaining members are obsolete. Wipe the slate clean, consequences be damned–hang every single one of those nepotists and promote new blood from below."

"It will be done, sir," Karl said assuredly. He forwent saluting, as they had little time for formalities. He took a step back, "I assume the same is to be done to the survivors of X-0."

Montgomery remained fixated on the wound that cut deep into his city. "Their survival is confirmation of their complicity to destroy us. Had they done their duty, none would remain. The whole division is to be decimated." Karl gave a short nod then turned on his heel, passing the cracked fountain that once stood in the middle of the plaza's roundabout.

The disarmed remnants of X-0 sat clustered together, surrounded by men wearing long black coats and stern unfeeling expressions. Intermingled in the mass of black, purple, and gold were soldiers adorned in the standard issue steel gray of the Imperial infantry–unlucky members of the original garrison who were now condemned with the rest of the science division.

Two Commissars, the only known women within the ranks of the Commissariat, stood at the front wearing disdainful expressions. First was the plain-faced and unassuming Ulyana von Wolzogen, who carried herself as many emotionless matriarchs raised with the silver spoon did. She kept her ZM34 pistol trained on the traitors, fully prepared to shoot anyone stupid enough to try and run. Next to her stood Klara Hedvig, a voluptuous redhead, and commoner with a violent heart. She oversaw numerous campaigns of terror both within Imperial colonial territory and recently occupied regions, which had earned her the moniker "The Hammer." She was quite displeased to have been pulled away from her most recent obligation of suppressing Darcsen resistance in the East just to save the capital. She kept her gloved hand wrapped around the loop hilt of an ornately etched rapier, a weapon that had claimed plenty of lives in her years of service.

They were joined by Karl, then Montgomery, who slowly approached. His cane tapping against the stone was an ominous countdown to what was coming next. Once he was closer, Klara shouted, "Alright you worms. Who is in charge here!?"

Her only answer was a few murmurs and nervous looks as no one came forward. Everyone knew what was coming, so Montgomery gave a slight nod and Klara walked forward. She grabbed a kneeling man, roughly throwing him toward the other Commissars. Without a word, Ulyana pointed her gun and pulled the trigger.

Bang. The X-0 marine's body slumped onto the ground, blood seeping onto the stone below. Keeping her cool, Ulyana spoke, "There will be no trial. Do the honorable thing and speak." She then looked to Klara, who dragged another man from the group. Bang –another shot as he joined his comrade. "I will ask you all again. Who is in charge here?"

More whispers were heard until finally a soldier in the middle row stood. "N-None of us, ma'am."

Montgomery pushed up his glasses. "Come." He commanded, watching the man closely as he approached the terrifying Lord of Crows. Leaning closer, his cold gaze piercing through the quivering soldier's helmet. "Who, then, is to blame for this failure?" Before the man could speak, Montgomery raised a finger. "Oh, and names of the living would be preferred. Since it's usually difficult to question the dead, or conveniently absent."

The X-0 soldier gulped nervously, glancing toward the other judgmental Commissars. "Doctor Belgar… he did everything he could…" The man's helmet made it impossible to read his face, but he had a sudden realization. Changing his tune, he quickly added, "B-But he was betrayed by his lieutenants. They were the ones responsible for our plans falling apart."

"Hmm." Montgomery uttered, a faint smirk forming. He expected the traitors to deflect blame onto others. Weak minds lacked the ability to acknowledge their failures. "I see, then perhaps you could give us their names? As I am sure you are aware, X-0 operated without oversight. Our records are currently incomplete."

"Special Lieutenant Chiara Rocino–she was tasked with defending the plaza," the soldier answered, finally deciding to stare down at his boots. "But when ordered to destroy the enemy's command tank, she turned tail and ran." He chose to leave out the crucial details. "Also, there was Special Lieutenant Nikola Graf. She was supposed to protect Lord Belgar. I, um… I don't know what happened to her. She vanished when we attempted to secure the centurion."

"I see. And this was when the Feds attempted to detonate their… gift?" Montgomery asked, finding it indeed troublesome that soldiers of the Empire would flee in the face of the enemy. A nod from the man was his answer. "What is your name?"

"Corporal Walter Heinz, Lord Commissar, sir." He could feel sweat forming on the palms of his hand. He was a dead man, and knew it.

"I would commend your honesty, Walter. Unfortunately I don't believe you are telling me the whole truth." Montgomery said coldly. He knew a liar when he heard one. Turning to Ulyana, he asked, "Could you find Volker? We are going to need his special touch."

"I am right here, Lord Commissar," The ghoulish drawl of Commissar Volker was terrifyingly distinct, and the other Crows looked to see the head torturer standing eerily close. Their eyes were drawn to the disembodied head he was holding, black hair gripped in his leather glove. Its eyes had been carved from their sockets, and flaps of skin dangled loosely from the skull. With a smile, Volker tossed it across the ground; the gored face rolled toward the kneeling men, causing them to panic. Volker smiled in chaotic pleasure at their terror as the other Commissars forced the soldiers to sit again.

Satisfied yet disgusted with his comrade's entrance, Montgomery put a hand on Walter's shoulder, "Volker. If you would, please question this one personally. He is an honest sort."

The color drained from Walter's face, and Volker revealed his teeth in a cold grimace. "Gladly, Lord Commissar." He revealed a set of irons and clapped them around Walter's wrists. "This way, please, comrade. I have prepared a temporary workspace."

He dragged the protesting soldier away, and Montgomery's inner circle huddled around him. He motioned to Klara, "Hedvig… Shoot them."

Klara put her fist over her chest, "Yes, Lord Commissar." Then she signaled to the rest of the Commissars, who directed the condemned men to stand. They were to be marched from the city, where they would be prepared for execution.

Addressing the remaining members of his inner circle, Montgomery spoke. "Ludwig, Ulyana." They waited for his orders with bated breath. "Tear this city apart. Let's see if we can root out these lieutenants."

Due to his disability, Montgomery was unable partake in the hunt personally, so he returned to his brooding sitting on the fountain. Every few minutes the ominous silence was interrupted by a volley of gunshots echoing across the stone walls of Schwartzgrad. With each round, another set of traitors was no longer a threat to the Empire.

His attention was caught by the sight of Commissar Manfred approaching, who approached him with a salute. The man was an unsettling sight as a result of reeducation at the hands of Volker. Covered in visible lacerations and scars, and blind in one eye, the man could only muster a detached disposition. "Lord Commissar York, the preliminary search is complete."

"Anything of note?" Montgomery asked, clicking his cane softly in front of himself.

Manfred kept his hands concealed inside his pockets. "No one living. The sub itself is still holding together though, despite the engine damage."

Montgomery pursed his lips, "Ah, some good news. Go ahead and send it in for repairs." He was not one to waste any potential resource to the motherland. Manfred saluted and left to carry out his task.

It was only a short while before Volker appeared once more, a sharp grin cutting into his face that failed to reach his eyes. In his hand was a blood-stained confession, which he offered to his boss. "Our comrade has confessed to a conspiracy to defect to the United States and has named everyone responsible. Unfortunately… he did not survive long enough to be accommodated for his selflessness."

Montgomery took the paper gingerly, careful to not touch the red blotches. He squinted at it curiously, and sure enough, found it covered in a list of names. Written across each side, every member of the division from the lowly engineers to Doctor Belgar had been named as complicit. "Excellent work, comrade. Take this, and let's begin investigating possible familial risks." Volker nodded and took back the confession, eagerly retreating to his lair to fulfill his orders.

Montgomery climbed to his feet, having a distaste for being idle in such a situation. Fortunately, he did not have to wait much longer as Karl breathlessly returned. "Sir… We found them."

Puzzled, York raised an eyebrow. "Have you not made the arrests?"

"It would be better if you came to them, in this case." Karl nodded his head in the direction of the canal that led to the Crystal Sea. Montgomery followed without question, trusting his comrade to know what was best.

They trudged away from Schwartzgrad, and down toward the frozen canal. The ice was unstable as a result of the heavy fighting. Although it remained sturdy enough in places for them to cross without much threat. Montgomery's attention was drawn from the wreck of the Orcinus Magnus and to a gaping hole where water was lapping up from. He was directed past that to the small embankment that led upwards to the walls that were supposed to protect the city. There, huddled together, were two teenage girls, their eyes devoid of light as they trembled in each other's arms.

Battered and bruised, the pair seemed wholly unresponsive to the world. One, whose pale skin matched the color of the snow she was sitting upon, was clutching her side, crimson seeping out from between her fingers, muttering something over and over to herself. He could make out one sentence: "No more failures. No more failures."

Karl knelt in front of her and snapped his fingers which only caused her to gasp and desperately push away into the other girl, apologizing. The one wearing a red beret, with a complexion akin to ashen clay, was more lucid. She protectively pulled her partner closer, glaring at the Commissars. She looked like a caged animal, ready to strike at any provocation.

Ulyana held a hand up toward the men, indicating for them to wait. Softly, she addressed this girl, "We are with the Imperial Commissariat. What is your name?"

There was silence, but eventually, the girl spoke. "Ch–Chiara. X-0, experimental weapons squad." She did not know who they were, and the lack of identifiable insignia on their uniforms made her fearful.

Her words were weak, and Montgomery did not know exactly what the experimental weapons squad was supposed to entail; though he was now confident that they were not actually in charge of X-0's defensive operations. He loomed over them, glaring harshly at the girl. "Where… is Heinrich Belgar?"

Chiara froze, beginning to tremble in fear. "I-I-I–" She stammered her pupils dilating as she tightened her protective hold around her partner. She whimpered, unable to answer, instead whispering "Failed…"

Montgomery was long past being sympathetic to any member of the traitorous division. With some difficulty, he knelt so he was inches from the terrified girls. Cruelly his hand shot forth, digging a finger into the bullet hole in the blonde girl's side. She bucked, and he then jerked upward. She let out a choked, agonized groan before her head bobbed and she slumped over, unconscious. Taking no pleasure in the action, he watched as Chiara desperately pleaded for her companion to wake, then said, "You two are obsolete and are hereby under arrest." He stood slowly again, turning to Ulyana and Karl. "Patch that one up, then put them in isolation until Volker is available."

Karl looked troubled by the Lord Commissar's decision but did not speak. Ulyana roughly jerked Chiara to her feet, and the girl nearly collapsed by the sudden force. However, she gritted her teeth and refused to release her partner, who leaned against her. Her arm shook as she clung around Nikola's waist, who lay limp in her grasp.

Montgomery scoffed, walking away, but paused when Karl spoke, "In the interest of totality. We do have records of transfers that indicate Lieutenant-Colonel Klaus Walz at some point joined X-0 as well. Should we go ahead and make the arrest?"

"Is that really a question? He isn't here, therefore he is complicit and is avoiding justice," York answered as the three left, dragging their prisoners along with them.

–28 February 1936–

Contrary to the Atlantic Federation's bombastic propaganda, the East European Imperial Alliance, colloquially known as the Empire, was not a unified autocratic monolith bent on invading the idyllic, peace-loving West. In fact, the loosely organized network of noble families regularly fought among themselves over nearly everything; rarely did they agree on national policy outside a strong military that kept their values safe. To mitigate the damage caused by these feuding houses and strengthen the power of the Emperor's throne, the Imperial Commissariat of Internal Security was created during the First Great European War. It would be a militarized police force that served as an extrajudicial authority within the country.

Known for their distinctive black trenchcoat, it was the Commissars who were tasked with maintaining the morale of the vast number of conscripts in the Imperial Army. A frightening sight on the Western Front, their uncompromising fanaticism often resulted in propaganda depictions equating the terrifying Crows to death itself: marching alongside the soldiers, ready to collect its due. Outside of their military obligation, the organization was also responsible for partisan suppression, prison camp administration, and political censorship.

At the top of this shadowy institution sat the Lord Commissar of Schwartzgrad. He was a man whose hidden influence over society had resulted in a superstitious title attached to his being: The Lord of Crows–or as he was actually known, Montgomery York. A strange representative of the Imperial ruling class, and not just because he was an expat from the United Kingdom of Edinburgh. He was sixty-seven years old, lame in his left leg thanks to an unfortunate bullet wound. His accent was a rather peculiar blend of his old homeland and new motherland, giving him a distinct cadence. Though none of these qualities could hold a candle to the real controversy surrounding the man, which was he refused to claim any kind of noble lineage or found a new house. He saw his role within the monarchical country as that of a public servant, and the Commissariat's purpose was to stand apart from the regular power struggles that regularly devastated the Empire. As a result, it was impossible to consider Montgomery a blind nationalist–rather, he was the state's harshest internal critic, whose radical attitude of no compromise had earned him plenty of enemies.

Notorious for his ruthlessness against those he believed brought harm to his beloved motherland, within the walls of his office, the Lord Commissar possessed a surprising inclination toward mercy. Not out of the goodness of his heart, but instead an ideological belief that the Imperial Alliance could not brazenly throw away the lives of its loyal citizenry. As such, the Commissariat regularly recruited the unseen of the nation into its ranks, the condemned, the damned, the poor, and the destitute. Men or women who had the potential to be useful regardless of their place in the class hierarchy. Survivors against all odds.

The defeat at Siegval, followed immediately by the disaster at Schwartzgrad, marked a shift in the office's psychology. Already convinced of a plot to undermine the Imperial Army's ability to fight, Montgomery's paranoia was justified when the Federation's navy crashed straight through the front gate of the Imperial capital. These transgressions were unforgivable; in the aftermath, the Lord Commissar directed his men to punish all those responsible. The Imperial Science Board was decapitated, its brilliant minds unable to prove their innocence. The matter was complicated by Montgomery's personal hatred for the missing Doctor Heinrich Belgar, overlord of X-0. The orgy of violence soon targeted members of the general staff, only for the bloodletting to be stopped by the intervention of the Emperor, who felt things were quickly spiraling out of control.

However, this did not stop the high-profile arrest of Lieutenant Colonel Klaus Walz, a populist war hero who had earned the admiration of many for his good nature. In Montgomery's eyes, however, the commander's theft of a valuable war asset and unwillingness to submit to an investigation was proof of a traitorous mind. After significant badgering, the Emperor, already in poor health, agreed to see the obsolete man arrested.

A siege of Klaus's hometown followed, where Crows acting under the leadership of Commissar Hedvig blockaded the region, severing it from the rest of the Empire. Unwilling to humor his foolish attempts at charming her, she issued a simple ultimatum: surrender without a fight or grain imports would be halted to the local area. War rationing already meant the average peasant was starving, so the threat of inducing an artificial famine was the most logical way to take control of the situation, especially when dealing with a notably powerful Valkyria. A handful public executions later, Klaus surrendered.

With the matter handled, there remained only two loose ends–the last living members of X-0, the Special Lieutenants. For nearly a month, they had been kept in isolation, regularly being interrogated by Volker. Despite his best efforts, though, he failed to get either to sign confessions of guilt, which forced him to begrudgingly conclude they were unaware of the division's plan to defect. Montgomery requested they be brought before him, as he would personally judge their case.

The Lord Commissar's personal office was larger than most commissioned officers. The overly ornate structure of the office was a leftover from before his time–something he regularly lamented, as he did not see himself as above his loyal flock. It boasted two grand windows, along the exterior wall. Royal red and gold embroidered curtains were parted to allow him to look down on the rest of Schwartzgrad's military district. To the right of his wooden mahogany desk, piled high with various folders, was an enormous political map showing the vast territories within the East European Imperial Alliance.

Its visage often excited Montgomery's imagination, and today was no exception, as he was staring at it absentmindedly as he waited for his next appointment. Surrounded on every side, existing in a permanent state of siege, the Empire was desperately trying to keep a lid on numerous nationalist rebel groups–a challenge becoming increasingly difficult as the war dragged on. This struggle was carefully noted by the numerous pins that dotted its landscape, connected by a piece of light blue ribbon that originated across the ocean in the United States of Vinland.

There was a large bear skin rugged in the center of the room, with two chairs facing his desk. On the left towered a grand bookcase complete with various textbooks about the cultures of the diverse peoples of the Empire. A radio in the corner behind him crackled a slow classical tune. Eventually, the door to his office opened and a black-clad enforcer dragged the two prisoners in. He roughly yanked the unfortunate girls forward before saluting and leaving.

The guests of the hour had finally arrived, and Montgomery adjusted his spectacles, as he peered across at them curiously. The two lieutenants had been found near the wreckage of the Orcinus Magnus, and now were being blamed for the failure to defend Schwartzgrad. They were chained together at the wrists and ankles–likely a result of a prolonged struggle against their interrogators, as he usually did not require visitors to be chained. His gaze was drawn to their eyes––periwinkle and umber. Their forlorn, vacant expressions were better suited on the grown men he was used to dealing with. But that was war, after all, and after a lifetime of it, Montgomery was certainly familiar with the unexpected. Their sunken, pallid faces were marred with bruises, and their thin frames swimming in baggy, worn prison garb certainly painted an image of pity. Their appearance managed to elicit a small amount of sympathy from the stoic Lord Commissar; he had experienced the first war, and he knew how it changed young men. Many in Imperial society might consider subjecting young girls to war might be a terrible thing, but York was not one to squander experienced soldiers. He had granted stays of execution for certainly much less in the past, creating loyal soldiers through a tendency of forgiveness.

Calmly Montgomery flipped open two folders laying each out on his desk and glanced at the first girl. She had frizzy pale blonde hair, and looked ill with her ghostly white complexion. Barely present in the room, she stood an inch behind her companion, blankly staring at the wall.

He cleared his throat and, addressing her, said. "Special Lieutenant Nikola Graf, correct?" An obvious answer, he was just following procedure.

Nikola's eyes flicked to him. "...Yes," she responded curtly, tone deadened. Her entire body ached from fatigue and sleep deprivation, and she struggled to remain standing.

Montgomery nodded, then looked to the second girl. Ashen tawny skin, dark violet hair, and a deep scowl that exuded a violently chaotic energy, she was far from ladylike. Squinting he read, "And Special Lieutenant Chiara… Ro see no?" His exaggerated pronunciation, a product of his accent, instantly caught her ire.

She shot him a sharp glare, gritting her teeth. Finding her voice, Chiara spat back, "It's Ro-jee-no , stupid."

"Hmm. My mistake," Montgomery muttered, making a mark on her form to denote the proper emphasis. He smirked, "I am not quite as familiar as I should be with the local dialects. Haven't been South in a few years."

She didn't respond, not sure what he was talking about. A heavy silence entered the office, punctuated by the squeaking ceiling fan above and the crackling radio. Thinking, he flipped to the next page, where a declassified memo related to the experimentation and conditioning both girls underwent as part of a black book project was documented extensively.

Personally, Montgomery held a deep disdain for those who viewed human beings as nothing more than pawns to be sacrificed. It was an unsustainable attitude, one that was bringing ruin to the Empire and something he sought to avoid in his Commissariat. Though it was far too late to change what either girl had become, a sharpened weapon, and the Lord Commissar was in dire need of such tools.

He finally looked up and spoke, peering at them behind his glasses. "I will be honest–it would be a lot easier to retire you both. X-0's research holds no meaningful scientific value." Nikola and Chiara froze, both retreating in on themselves in shame. Montgomery raised a hand, indicating he wasn't finished, "However. I am not a fool. I do believe assets like yourselves could still be of use."

Nikola did not respond, staring at her feet hopelessly. They would never escape their purpose. Chiara on the other hand, clutching her sleeves, sneered, "How generous of you." Being water-boarded had done little to endear her to these strange men in black.

Montgomery ignored her disrespectful tone and pushed his chair back in order to stand. Leaning on his cane, he limped over to the map on the wall. Like all ambitious men, he had plans for the future–for his motherland, and for the world itself. Almost a decade's worth of secret preparations, organizational purges, and a deal struck with an eldritch child of the Valkyrur, meant his perch was secured upon the bones of many, prepared to weather any storm. A lord and his loyal flock of Crows, defined by their ideological devotion that caused fear to shake the guilty.

When the time came, Montgomery wouldn't make excuses for the terror that would be unleashed against those identified as enemies of the Imperial Alliance–within or without. Tapping his cane, he smiled. "You two must understand. I am a foolish man, as I have fallen in love with this land. Her people are strong, unyielding and…" He trailed off, aware that neither girl was paying attention. He pursed his lips, then decided to wrap it up. "No matter what, I will not see her bow before those starry-eyed idealists in the Federation."

His inane rambling meant nothing to Nikola, who was still coming to terms with how she had gotten in this situation with the girl next to her in the first place. Her partner had forsaken everything to save her. Nikola had accepted they'd be separated forever after they failed to follow Lord Belgar's orders. Yet here they were, together, in the enigmatic Lord Commissar's office. The lights were too bright and her body ached; The migraine settling behind her eyes made her grit her teeth and say, "Can you just–be quiet? It's… so annoying."

Montgomery stopped talking, and turned to face them. Chiara inched in front of her companion, another protective gesture. "Yeah, old man. How about you save the speech for someone who actually cares."

"Oh? Then, might I suggest you two learn some respect for our Empire," Montgomery said, placing his hands on the hilt of his cane. "She and I are offering you a second chance." He waited to make sure they were both looking at him. "The military has abandoned its obligation to be our people's shield." He pointed to the window, "It is no longer a trustworthy institution. Too many have allowed doubt to pollute their minds." His finger retracted slowly. "Therefore, I am forming a new counter-terrorism unit that will serve make good on their failures." He stepped forward, his cane tapping softly. "It answers to me alone, and…" He nodded in their direction. "You are going to lead it."

Nikola and Chiara jumped in disbelief in unison. They had come to accept their deaths were inevitable–this outcome was the furthest thing from what they were expecting. Nervously, the former chewed on her lower lip. "Why? We… we are failures."

Montgomery cocked his head, wondering why she was so fixated on the word. His torturer had made a note of her tendency to mumble it when passed out on the floor of her cell. "Yes, and?" His question went unanswered as they awkwardly stared down at their feet. He fixed his glasses, "If you haven't already forgotten, there is a war on. There is nowhere left to retreat. Our enemies have smelled blood and intend to tear us apart, like the beastly animals they are… Every Imperial must do their part to defend our motherland. You two are no exceptions, regardless of your failures." Seeing their hesitation, he sighed, "Allow me to put this way then–I am not giving you a choice. The laboratory will surely take you both back."

The threat had the intended effect. Nikola whimpered, crossing her arms, rubbing desperately to warm them. Chiara, though, was well past fearing for her safety; she merely shot the old man a glare. "Go ahead. It will not be any worse than what your man has already done." She spit a glob onto the floor and hunched like an animal, "He touches me again and I will tear off the rest of his hand."

Her brutish threat bothered Montgomery little. He gestured toward the files sitting on his desk. "Commissar Volker might be overzealous, but it was he who concluded you two are innocent." He waved his hand, bored by her threat. "My Commissariat needs soldiers like yourself. Do not take our methods personally. Your resiliency is commendable."

"…We have never even heard of you before." Nikola said finally finding her voice. Forcing herself to speak above a whisper she strained, "Lord Belgar… We are supposed to serve Lord Belgar."

Montgomery pinched the bridge of his nose, finding her frustratingly childish. "Yes… and tragically, it would seem Heinrich is dead. Ideally." He clicked his cane, leaning into it. "You are property of our Empire. Not him. As such, you will serve me in his stead."

Chiara gulped, more easily cowed than her partner. She could recognize the eyes of a murderer, and the Lord Commissar exuded a reserved but dangerous energy. "…Fine." She was willing to jump at any kind of a second chance, but she still had one concern. "As long as we can still kill people." Nikola flinched, and turned to stare, baffled.

The change of tune was pleasing, and Montgomery smiled. "Obsolete enemies of the state deserve no mercy." He took note of the psychotic gleam in her eyes. "So, do we have an agreement?"

"Yes," Chiara answered without needing to think about it. She had already been left to die, it wasn't like her situation could get any worse.

Nikola flinched, shooting a hand out to grab hold of her partner's arm. "Chiara." She hissed, feeling betrayed. "What… How could you? We–"

"Shut your trap," Chiara shot back, shoving the other girl away. "Rot in that rat infested cell if you want. Lord Belgar threw me away. I do not need him anymore." Resolutely she doubled down, waving a fist toward Montgomery. "Show me the enemy and I will make them regret betraying the Empire."

"Wonderful. I wish more soldiers felt the same," he said, though their discord did give him pause. The Lord Commissar looked to Nikola, who was still clearly in shock, "Your comrade is right. This is your last chance. Refuse, and I will make certain you never see the sun again."

Nikola felt a huge lump in her throat and swallowed. "I…" She was grappling with her twisted loyalty to her master, and a genuine fear that she would never see Chiara again. The emotional distress was enough to cause her stomach to hurt, and Nikola whimpered. "…Okay. Just let us stay together."

"Very well. It is decided," Montgomery said, limping to the door of his office. He opened it with a click and spoke to the two guards waiting outside. "Return these two to the basement. Put them in the same cell, until I can send for them." Nikola and Chiara didn't protest, as they were marched back into the darkness below the Commissariat.