Welcome to chapter 2 of the fic. Well, after writing the first chapter, I've decided to change a bit of my characters label. At first, I just thought that I would write about the relationship between the 501st and the MC only, especially Yoshika. But here I think I will focus more on Lynette and her sister, Wilma, instead, since their homeland is Britannia after all. The focus shall be the relationship between the two of them, while being separated from each other, and between Wilma and the MC. The reason why the two sisters were separated, you'll learn it in this chapter. Wilma recently have become my favorite witch, after reading a few works about her, so that's the reason why I will change the foucs of the story. Of course, I will still explore how the witches, especially the 501st, deal with him. So the character labels shall be Lynette and Wilma instead of Yoshika and Minna.

Somehow, I feel that Wilma is quite OOC right here, because I don't have enough material to know how she would react in such a situation. I hope you can forgive me that.

Very much thank you for the positive support in chapter 1, I felt more motivated to write about this story now.

If you have some times, you can check out my first fic, General, about the game Kantai Collection. It's more terrible than this since it's my first, but if you still want to have a look, feel free to.

If you find this story interesting or you feel that this needs improvements, please take a few minutes to review it. Constructive criticisms are welcomed.

Disclaimer: This fic is for entertainment purposes. Don't take it seriously. Also, all characters, except for the OCs all belong to their respective owners.


Chapter 2: Interrogation

It was one of the darkest days in their life.

"Damn it! How could this happen?!" First Lieutenant Gertrude Barkhorn slammed her fist down onto a table, as she cursed, loudly.

"We were just going shopping together happily at London just 3 months ago. And now, it's…" On the other hand, Sergeant Yoshika Miyafuji wasn't able to finish what she said. It was truly a foreign and painful experience for her. Britannia was the place that the 501st JFW first came together, had fun together and fought together. It was her second home to Fuso. And now seeing it falling into the enemy's hand, Yoshika couldn't imagine it, even though it is reality. A harsh reality.

But still, for Yoshika, Britannia was only just her second home. For Lynette…

Since the evacuation, the young brunette Britannian did not speak, scream, nor shed a single tear. Her eyes were completely empty. From a normal person's perspective, she was like a robot, an object acting mechanically. No emotions, no expressions, nothing was shown from her exterior.

"Lynette-san. Are you okay?" Asked the blonde Gallian witch, Perrine Clostermann, with a concerning expression. She patted her shoulder lightly. But no responses. Her mind was a chaotic mess, her emotions couldn't find their way out of her small body. Myriads of sentiments were ricocheting inside her

Shock

Grief

Anger

Dejection

And finally despair

"Lynne-chan, would you like something to eat?" Yoshika turned to her best friend, with a forced cheer, trying to clear up the depressing atmosphere that was painfully tormenting to the young but frail Britannian.

But nothing worked.

Lynette didn't give a care about what she said, nor did she even listen. She slowly ventured towards the window, away from the rest of the room's occupants. Her gaze being drawn by the magnificent view of the night sky. The stars were connecting to each other, constellating into one another, shining unusually bright in the sky, either as a consolidation, or a mock to her failure. She didn't know, but in any cases, the visage of everything dear to her played orderly in her mind.

Her country house that she had once lived.

Her friends at school.

Her mother.

Her father.

Wilma.

Now they're all dead, gone, disappeared.

And it was all because of her.

The picture kept repeating, again and again.

Tormenting her, tearing her apart, bit by bit

Until she couldn't hold it back anymore. A teardrop slide down her soft cheeks, only to be followed by another, then another, then another, until there was a stream of tears pouring down, glimmering her face. Her legs eventually lost its strength, and she fell down on her knees, her hands covering her face as she sobbed heavily.

"Lynne-chan!" Yoshika couldn't bear to be silent as she saw her best friend experiencing such a breakdown. She, along with her Liberion squadmate, Charlotte, rushed to her side, trying to help her up.

"Lynette, we haven't lost everything. There's still hope. We can still retake your homeland." Charlotte comforted her, wrapping her arm around her back, patting it, as she wrapped Lynette's around her back, supporting her. Yoshika also came to her, wiping away her tears with a handkerchief.

But those comfort didn't help either.

The old, cheery Lynette died along with her family, and Great Britannia.

Supported by Charlotte and Yoshika, Lynette was dragged out of the room, followed by Lucchini and Perrine, as the rest looked on, with anxiety and concern.

"Poor Lynette-chan. The shock of losing her family must be too great on her." Sanya said, her tone lowered. She, too, lost her homeland, Orussia, her family, back in April, a lost that she locked up in her room for 2 days, continuously, only coming out because she was exhausted from hunger. Placing her in Lynette's shoes, she would do no difference. That is why, somewhere in her voice exists genuine sympathy and the pain that she had also been through.

"This is truly an unexpected turn of event. Over 50% of the current witches were disabled, among those, 7 witches were shot down, only 4 of whom survived. It's a total disaster." Major Mio Sakamoto showed a calmer attitude, as she closed her eyes, deep in thoughts.

"Who would have thought our attacks on Amsterdam were countered so easily?" Commander Minna Dietlinde Wilck remembered, the bitter fragments of nightmare came to mind. That day, the Britannian military decided to dispatch their elite troops to Amsterdam, consisting of over 100 witches from ten different squadrons, along with a combined fleet of 5 different nations, armed with state-of-the-art weaponry, with the intention of striking the Neuroi hive directly at Eastern Gallia. The high command had high hopes about this lightning campaign, hoping that it would liberate Gallia in one fell swoop.

But war wasn't as easy as they thought.

As they go deeper inland, no Neurois were to be seen. Amsterdam was a dead city, nothing moved, nothing shifted. The city laid still like a grave, silent and terrifying. And that terror was soon realized when after a few days settling in the abandoned Amsterdam, the soldiers found the entire city in an uncontrollable conflagration. Fiery inferno quickly consumed all buildings, houses, trees that stood in their way, in 3 days, until the witches managed to extinguish the fire, or it ran out of materials to burn.

Left with no accommodations, the witches' nightmare was completed, as news of the combined Naval Fleet was destroyed at a naval battle off the coast came almost immediately after the fire. In just a week after the campaign started, the allied troops were already being enveloped and trapped, decimated by thousands of Neurois harassing day and night, relentlessly. It was a total miracle for some that they were able to get out of there, in one piece.

"We lost because we underestimated them. I mean…burning an entire city." Mio said, still couldn't believe it.

"No the thing is that they intentionally let us advance further inland so that our naval vessels are isolated and destroyed at the coast. They are not supposed to be able to do that." Minna replied.

"They can't. Only humans are capable of planning and executing such a strategy."

"Then if you put it like that…there may be humans working secretly for them."

"They might be officers, or the high rankings commanders. Because although our plans seemed to be rushing through the war, and had underestimations, but deep behind the scenes, it was planned out carefully, with the participation of Marshal Rommel, Sir Winston Churchill, and many other experienced officers. The one able to outwit all of them must be very powerful."

"But who?" The question ran through all the minds of the room's occupant. It wouldn't be long before they realized who he was.


Buckingham Palace, London.

The area around the Palace was extremely crowded, as Neurois, numbering to thousands, gathered, their red hexagons illuminating an entire section of the city, seen from miles away. This served only one purpose of greeting the young Neuroi commander that just successfully conquered Britannia, but it also marked a dark milestone in the country's history: The fall of London.

"Do you hear that Eris? This isn't the coronation of the emperor and yet they are filled with enthusiasm." The man in the black coat walked through a hall in the palace, as he spoke to his adjutant, who was following him closely behind.

"…" But she didn't answer. Simply because she couldn't understand what he said. Unlike him, she is just a normal witch-like type Neuroi, with grey cat ears, no faces, simple patterned long-sleeved outfit and a striker-like legs. Technically speaking, her leg isn't a striker, but the purpose of it was pretty much the same: to help her moving around. The only thing making her distinguishable from the other witch type Neurois is that her grey metal hair were a bit longer, extending down to her shoulders.

Knowing that his human way of talking was making her confused, he turned to his normal communication methods.

"I think you should try to learn human languages. It's a pretty interesting concept to learn."

"I'm sorry, but I was not born with a mouth like you. There's no point learning a language if you cannot speak it." Eris replied, as she transmitted her words through to him.

"But you can still read or write. It's a really beautiful system of words and phrases. They are also diverse. Compared to us, who only uses one language, humans have a variety of them, each has their own set of pronunciations, vocabularies and grammars. It's amazing to see such divergence in just a race."

"But I thought you don't like humans." She conversed, seemingly surprised at how knowledgeable he was at the topic.

"But still, their cultures are still something worth noticing. Especially architectures." Alexander replied, as he walked to a pillar supporting the palace's mass. "They are much more dynamic than our own. I hope that they won't suffer the same fate like those at the place the humans called Amsterdam."

"You truly are a lover of art, Alex. But please don't let it affect our conquest of Earth." Eris politely advised, as she hovered to his right. "When you finish it, you can love anything you want. For our galaxy, and for our empire."

Alexander nodded, without saying anything back.

For our empire.

Heh…

Is it really for the empire?

He started walking away, across a hall full of paintings. They were all caught under his gaze, but he didn't pay attention. There are works to do.

The next room he entered was a spacious office, painted completely in pale green. The room layout was wooden, from the door, chair, desk, bookcase, and even window frame. A smell of fresh leaves and blooming flowers resounded across the room, from an air refresher material, especially made for the members of the Britannian royal family and governing elite. Anyone foreign to this luxury could feel themselves standing in a vast tropical rainforests on a winter night, with chilly winds smuggling onto their cheeks, and comfortable silence wrapping around us. It is an ideal place to work in.

"Wow." The room's layout had left a good impression on the young Neuroi. He walked to the wooden desk at the far end of the room, touching it and sensing how smooth it was. Then he finally sat down on the chair placed behind it, before removing his two gloves.

"So this is the place those Britannians governing elites work in…Seems like I'll be in this room for a long time."

"Sir, a telegram from the emperor." Eris waited until he finished settling in and then finally spoke. "I'll transfer it to you right away."

She stopped hovering, descending herself to the ground, her legs spread out a bit for a firm stance. Then, she suddenly froze, completely, like a statue. There was no inches of movement in her, she's literally frozen, as if all energies vanished from her already. Well technically, it is. In order to transmit a message from one person to another over a long distances, a Neuroi must concentrate a large amount of energy from their body to their core, in order to encrypt the message into a form of signals. In other words, each core in their body is a small but energy-guzzler radar capable of sending documents and orders without the need of telephone or paper.

"Transmission complete." Eris reported, as her limbs regained their power. And now it was his core that is consuming his energy.

"What's wrong?" Eris noticed his detached state.

"Nothing, really. Anything else?" Alexander quickly answered, but somehow it didn't feel really right about him. Eris was quick to see it, but didn't voice it out.

"Well, there are some prisoners that were captured in our last battle. I think we can gain some important information from them, such as the human's number of troops and capabilities. Since you are the one that can communicate with humans using their own language, it will not be a problem."

"Hmm…Ok, take me there."


Somewhere in subterranean London.

A new group of prisoners had just arrived.

Hands cuffed, the three prisoners walked sluggishly to their cells, sharing a long chain that was pulled on one side by a bug-type Neuroi. Their legs were also attached to a chained metal ball, weighting up to about 20kg each, restricting much of their movements. Such an ironic but worthy punishments for the three Britannian witches, who soared the skies and dominated the ground with their leg attachments.

Without her leather hat, Wilma Bishop, a member of the Britannian Commonwealth Royal, looked like a fallen, wing-clipped angel. Her left leg was bleeding, from all the scratches and bruises the chained ball caused to her. She was unlucky, to be chained with an old rusty one, their surfaces crumbling with rough reddish blacks. Walking through the Neuroi underlings, she maintained an emotionless and cold attitude, her gaze hung high, but never looked at them. She had to be strong. They don't deserve to look at her pitiful face.

The door opened widely.

Wilma stepped onto her cell, slowly, as she noticed a commotion going on.

The Neurois were forming into two parallel lines, facing each other, separating by a pathway. Her own instinct told herself that the Neurois were preparing to greet another Neurois, probably an important elite one. She knew after years of fighting that the Neurois were divertive in rankings and levels, just like humans, so such a greeting of an elite Neuroi could be expected. And also their purpose of being here. To interrogate, and torture her, of course. She couldn't think of any other reasons. A swift of coldness ran down her spine as she imagined what would happen. Neuroi's torturing chambers are known to be extremely cruel, and inhumane. The scars and marks from all the former-prisoners that she had met still haunted her since.

And now she was about to be placed in their shoes.

The thought of it…

Will she be able to take all of that?

She grabbed a bar of the cell, her hands shivering slightly. But then it clenched, her nails dug onto her skin.

She have to stay strong. No matter what.

Then, something approached. The prison cells were dark, as the complex's facilities wasn't really given much attention for renovation, but she could see the silhouette of the Neuroi on the other side of the room, coming down the stairs.

What she saw next astonished her.

It has two legs. Two walking legs.

Does the Neurois have any human type?

Witch-type, maybe? But they don't usually walk.

And they don't usually wear thick clothing.

After the Neurois came down the stairs, it became clear to her.

It was a human.

Clear, yet confusing.

A human, among Neurois.

A traitor?

That couldn't be right.

She watched the human-like figure approached her. As he came into the light, his sharp features, blade-like crimson eyes gleamed along with all the red hexagons on his coat. He approached her cell and gazed at her, and her two cell-mates: Cecelia and Patricia, for a while. And then he came close, glaring at only Wilma. He didn't seem to have any interest in the other two.

Before he started the talk, he gave out a screech, and the Neuroi Guards immediately filed out.

"Leave us alone." That was what he actually said in the form of Neuroi's language.

"W-Who are you?" She asked.

"You needn't know." He replied, as her eyes widened in surprise.

This cannot be a Neuroi. She thought

His accent is too native.

"Oh, I need to know. To see what kind of traitor you are?" She replied, venom in her voice,

"Traitor? Heh…" Alexander chuckled in amusement. "You're right. I'm an individualist. I'm not much for following orders."

"Is that why you betray us?"

"Betray? You're amusing. I was never one of you to start with."

"What are you talking about? Aren't you…"

Looks like she had to see it with her own eyes.

Alexander suddenly removed his glove and grabbed her arm with a forceful grip.

"What are you…"

She could feel her arm heating up very quickly. It felt just like a lump of burning coal just made contact with her bare skin. It was burning her, painfully.

She tried to resist, only to succeed when his grip loosened purposely.

On the place he just gripped, a red burn mark could be seen.

She looked at it, shocked, pained, and then at him.

His palm…is glowing red, in a hexagonal shape.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

He can't be a Neuroi.

But the hand that she saw.

Then what?

"You seem unconvinced." Alexander retracted his arm as he said. "Humans are such unpersuasive creatures. Well, I'm not the type to conceal my own personal details. I am Alexander Kherol, chief commander of the Neuroi's expeditionary forces on Earth. And of course, believe it or not, I am a Neuroi, especially created with the sole purpose of deep learning human's culture and science, also to adopt human's way of thinking."

"Deep…learning?" Wilma furrowed, struggling to understand the term.

"I am a machine capable of thinking, feeling and acting like a human being. In other words, I am you, but more powerful."

To put it simply, he is a combination of Neurois and humans.

And he is working for them.

"But why did you come to this planet? What do you want from us?"

Alexander blinked in surprise.

"A curious one, aren't you?" He complimented, as he looked up, his head tilted, for a while, thinking for a concise response. Then he pointed his index finger at her.

"You."

"Wha-What do you mean?" She was obviously confused by the short, choppy explanation.

He proceeded to point at the two other witches as well.

"You, you, all of you. All of humans. You created armies, you waged war on each other for land, for territory, for resources, for everything you can think of! If this goes on any further, the extent of your war will reach space, will reach our empire. It threatens the haven and peace of the universe. For that cause, we are forced to send an expeditionary forces to neutralize you all."

"And for what? Ending wars with wars?! You'll never achieve peace with just brutal force!"

She almost shouted, her voice audible enough to draw the attention of the Neurois behind the door.

She couldn't really believe herself either.

She wasn't used to reacting like this, due to her usual exterior as a playful and cheery witch. Perhaps, under some circumstances, people could change.

"It's nothing, nothing."

He turned back, reassuring the guards as they walked out again.

"You seem appeal to human's ideal of peace, mankind's freedom…But, have you ever seen what they did to each other?" His voice turned more cynical

"What?"

"Remember how your Gallian hero Napoleon got subjugated, crushed just to preserve the peace of Europe over 100 years ago."

"Because he was a dictator, a tyrant! He deserved to be punished and exiled!"

"Idealistic, aren't you? An interesting one." He complimented. "Then how about the colonization of major world powers onto smaller one, just before what you called the Second Neuroi War. I heard they rebelled a lot back then, and then got subjugated. Is that what you all call freedom?"

"T-That's…" Wilma stuttered.

He just hit the mark.

"And how you sacrificed the Czech region to us to keep peace, which didn't turn out very well."

There was no denying it.

That was the darkest time of British diplomacy.

This time, he was right. Completely right.

"I know, the human's ideology, and they are not the same as what you think. For benefits of owns individuals, for benefits of the country, you are ready to warmonger on others. And do you think we would tolerate it."

There's no point arguing around it.

But still, his ideal. She couldn't find herself believing it.

No, she couldn't believe it existed either.

"So the ideal of freedom caused chaos. But still I would rather live free in that than living in controlled slavery like you."

"Slavery? Heh…You're delusional."

"I am not. You are. I agree with you that we will never attain peace as long as there is freedom, but it is the same for yours. People would never allow themselves to be controlled. What gives you the right to control others? Who gives you the right to decide the fate of others? I tell you, your destiny of world domination…is nothing but an insane fantasy."

She rebuked him, coldly. If some strangers were to witness, they would say she was incredibly stupid. One wrong word, and you're dead. She knew that, but she couldn't submit to it.

Alexander was somewhat baffled. Never in his life did he face such criticisms or oppositions. And right here, right now, he is being rebuked, criticized by a pretty lady, under his captivity.

How fascinating.

Alexander gave a laugh, as he looked at her with interests.

"We'll see."

All of a sudden, something approached from the staircase, quickly. It was Eris, And she looked hurried.

"What is it?" Asked Alexander.

"There is a Gallian naval fleet, departing from an area around Gibraltar, is on sail towards an unknown location. I suspect they are heading towards North Liberion, in order to regroup with the rest of their allies." She answered.

"Hmmph. Like I will let that happen. Let's go." He was about to turn away, but then he looked at the three captive Britannian witches, especially at Wilma, the one who can meet a death sentence at any minute.

"You're truly an interesting creature. I'll be keeping a close eye on you."

As she watched on, Alexander sent for a guard to come in.

"I trust that you will treat them well. Make sure they are unharmed by the time I returned."

The Neuroi 'nodded', as he exited the prison facilities.

The battle over the Atlantic Ocean awaits.

To him, a single fleet can be the difference between victory and defeat, so he wouldn't hesitate to destroy every single one of them.

But what he didn't know was that, ironically, their allies also saw it as a threat.


"What the hell do you mean?!" It was Sakamoto's turn to slam the table at the conference room. She could feel her blood pressure boiling in almost an instant.

Destroying our ally's fleet?!

That's the worst of the worst betrayal of all!

"Look Major Sakamoto, that Gallian fleet did not accomplish the demands we sent them. So orders from the Majesty's Governments have stated that we have to do whatever necessary to prevent those ships from falling onto the Neuroi's hand. If they managed to capture them, can you imagine what will happen?" A general, dressed in the Britannian Royal Navy uniform, said calmly to the enraged witch.

He was David Somerville, the commander of the Britannian Mediterranean fleet until the demise of its homeland.

"I know this will be a very disagreeable task on you all, but I entrust that you," A middle aged man, sitting on David's right, voiced out, addressing the squadron. "the 501st JFW, along with the rest of the combined fleet will carry the attack on the Gallian fleet relentlessly."

The middle aged man was no other than the beloved Winston Spencer Churchill, the prime minister of Britannia.

"But we can't turn our backs on our ally! The entire world will rouse against us! My pride as a samurai will not allow myself to do this!"

"Enough Major, this plan will be carried out, no matter how violent you protest." Somerville ended the conversation.

"General!" Mio shouted, her fist clenched, shaking visibly, with the hope that they would reconsider

But to no avail.

She shouted protests a few more times, only to be abstained by Minna, who was standing behind her all the time.

The stage is set. For the utter most carnage in the war.