Welcome to chapter 9 of The day Britannia fell. We are currently about 1/3 of my intended numbers of chapters now

My apologies for the tendency to post a short chapter after every large battle. Because I wanted to conclude a little bit and settle down for you and me before moving on to the next events of the story. And also my apologies for the long period of time without any activities, because I have been quite busy these days. I've got plans for the future, so I must concentrate on them first. But I won't abandon this fic, so don't worry.

So enjoy, and hope you stay tuned to the next chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own SW or any of its contents, or the OCs that I borrowed


Chapter 9: Neuroi's vision

North Atlantic.

A large fleet, consisting of over a few dozen Neurois, was moving through the water moderately, exhausted from the previous battle they just took part in. There were originally over a hundred fighters, but they had all retreated to its mothership, the Aegis, which was flying with great ferocity over the sky, carrying within it the man that was reowned as the son of a goddess. He left the battle in defeat, but with a triumphant state of mind.

The reason for him couldn't be simpler: He had gained huge amount of information on his enemy, in which every each of them is a priceless piece for his final grand masterpiece: The total and utter destruction of the human's army. There's no need to rush, everything is going smoothly. For him, at least, that is the dangerous thing.

When his close aide, Eris, came in, he was, again, looking at the holographics of artworks from all around the world, only to stop when she came right next to him, with a posture full of curiosity. She had a lot of questions for him.

"Just what was that Alex? Do you really have to do that?"

"Yes." He said with a delicate tone. "I do believe it is necessary."

"You mean throwing West Africa to them? It does not look like a necessary thing."

"I told you, they have my reward. They have proven themselves to be more than I expected."

"But-"

"Listen." Alexander cut her off, as he turned to her, his pale skin contrasted with his crimson red eyes.

"A strategist does not always attack and attack. In a war, the most efficient fighter is he who avoids what is strong, and strike what is weak, is he who knows when to and not to fight. I've studied tactics, strategies of hundreds of species, and worked to perfect my own. It is not just a hobby, it is a commitment…"

With a soft yet warm voice, he continued, his red eyes glowed, as if it was seeing into her soul.

"And to these words specifically, if you commit yourself to experiencing this, you will begin to it see as I see it, a beautiful art form."

And it was at this moment that Eris was reminded of the reason why she followed this pale-skinned man in front of her, the equivalent of all the galaxy's finest tactician under the name of Alexander Kherol.

She smiled internally, and did not question him any further.

"In return, I also have a question that I want a clear answer."

"Huh?"

"Is there any…report from the hives? For example, an attempted infiltration?"

Eris jerked her head in realization.

"Actually there is! Let me get it." She shutted her movements down for a while. The report came in right when she was busy watching the battle, and because she didn't want to bother Alexander with his work, she totally forgot about it.

"There it is. An infiltration attempt on the Gallian hive. The perpetrator is a white flying mecha. It looks like a mechanical witch, as its legs are similar to a witch's Striker."

"Just as I expected. How about we head over there right now to see the full detail of it?"

She agreed, although there wasn't any point in answering since he was gonna do it no matter what. And as if there was anything to do aside from sitting idly in the office. She didn't want to ask him out again, as he would just take her to another landmark and ramble about its artistic architecture for another couple of hours anyway.

The Aegis then separated from its fleet and began flying towards mainland Gallia. To the direction of the hive.


They arrived there that evening. The one thousand meters long dreadnought began to dock itself right under a hive that was only slightly wider than it. The upperhull and the command tower of the dreadnought connected to the dome-like structure of the huge hive. The dome usually did not open this wide for entrance and exit of Neurois, but in this case, they had to make an exception. The hive superstructure was enough to hold the entire ship's mass, so there is no reason why it had to use its energy to hover nearby. Overseer Lzammer had it all within his expectation.

The old and respectful faceless man wearing a plain dark grey tunic on the other hand was rather nervous, shown by him walking around restlessly, as he was trying to figure out a way to explain this human infiltration to him. Surely, Alexander had summoned some of the troops there away to deal with his work, but that is no reasonable reason to let his guard down and allow a core to get stolen away.

And while he was busy trying to come up of something, Alexander, the last man he would want to meet right now yet the man who he had to inevitably face, walked into the room.

"Sir! Uhhhh, we have a problem." He was clearly not yet prepared.

"I know. I can tell from your restlessness." Alexander replied excruciatingly, in which the old Neuroi sighed and resigned to the inevitable dark fate that awaits him.

"What is it, overseer?" He asked the obvious question, despite having known it already. The purpose is different this time.

"A mecha has entered our hive and has stolen away a core."

Good.

"And the detail of this attack."

"It happened a few hours ago, when you were at West Africa. My…apologies, sir."

He had expected something harsh to be said, but no.

"Thank you overseer for the report. The information about your encounter with the mecha is very helpful. You may go."

Lzammer was not able to comprehend this. He's letting him get away without any punishment?

"T-Thank you, general." He backed away from him, out of the door. He shouldn't be asking more when he was given the opportunity to leave.

When the man left, Alexander headed to the core room, where one of the cores were missing.

"Core X164, codename Varl…" Alexander noted the sign nearby.

"We should track down the location of the core and head there immediately." One Neuroi said.

"No, I think not…The humans would have probably shutted down all of its functions."

"How do you mean?" Eris asked, curiously, which Alexander smirked with confidence that he knew their intention.

"The humans are trying to make a Neuroi." He said bluntly.

A Neuroi?

Man-made?

Is that even possible?

"Or in some other cases, a machine with Neuroi capabilities. I know, this concept is rather unfamiliar to us. They are intending to surprise us with this machine, destroy us. Just…let them taste that."

He cocked his eyebrows mischievously, in which Eris was quite confused.

"The idea seemed devastating on papers, but they have missed a spot, which will soon become their harbinger of destruction. The humans may think they have won, but they never…ever…will."

His voice suddenly turned cold. Inside his mind, and those around them, this whatever plan that they intend to realize, and those behind this, are totally screwed.


Underground London.

Just how much longer would she have to stay here?

Despite having the quality of the cells raised, edible food and enough warmth, she still felt herself strained by the lifestyle here. Obviously being in prison wasn't a pleasant thing, and boredom usually took place. She had tried to play some group games with her cellmates, but the fact that her hands were chained pretty much restricted from all activities.

Damn…

She missed her home.

She missed the food that she was used to eating.

She missed her sister, Lynette.

'I wonder is she is ok. She isn't the type to take bad news well.'

The sudden appearance of a tall figure stopped her train of thought, as she realized the person walking towards her.

Supreme general Alexander.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, in a slightly agitated, but less hostile than the last time they met.

"Checking up on my prisoners." He replied, in clear Britannian accent.

"Hoo…How noble of you." Whether this was a mock or a true compliment, Alexander did not know. But he did not hesitate to show respect to that, even if the person saying it was his enemy.

"I thank you, for your hospitality. It's true that I did not receive many prisoners in my career, but when I do, I have to make sure they are well-treated. "

"…" She noticed the genuine tone, and felt a bit regretful of the mock she just said. It's true that after the time he saved her from hypothermia, she was treated a lot better than what it was before. Perhaps he wasn't really a bad guy after all.

She did notice it during these few days.

The city that she was in. After the battle of London, nothing actually happened. No destructions, no chaos. It's all in order, although the people were just afraid of him. But still, it was unlike what she had heard about the Neurois, that they destroy everything in their path.

But still, there could be a deeper reason why he didn't do so.

"Ano…" She found herself struggling to say this, partly because she was talking to her enemy, but mostly because that person was a man. She blushed a little when she spoke

"...Thank you…for the last time. You saved me, and my friends."

Thank you…

This is beyond the expectation of the supreme general. Totally beyond.

The reason for that couldn't be simpler: humans never appreciate him, for what they think he do, even if they don't even know the real story behind it. But now, now this woman, this young lady, actually thanked him for his doings. He, a powerful being, a person that is compared by many to be a son of a goddess, a person with iron will and steel cold determination, for a brief moment, actually showed a soft spot.

"I appreciate…that."

It wasn't meant to be this way.

"Also, I have a question for you." Wilma suddenly asked.

"And that is?"

"Do you happen, by any chances, to encounter the 501st JFW?"

"Yes." Alexander replied without hesitation. "Multiple times."

"And do you notice a Britannian there?"

Ah.

Her sister, wasn't it?

Lynette Bishop.

His dwellings onto the witches' profiles weren't a waste of time after all.

"I know what you want to hear. She is alive, and is fighting for your country."

She is alive

The words sent the girl away from the Earth.

Her sister is alive.

She could feel her eyes blurred, as glassy tears of relief began to well up in her eyes.

For a brief moment, she, in this dark, gloomy prison, could feel her being lifted to heaven. The well-being of her relatives, that is enough for her already.

Family…

Alexander didn't say anything more, as he observed his witch in captivity.

She was actually crying from happiness. Happiness of what seemed to be so simple, that Alexander had never once considered worth shedding tears for.

Is this what the humans truly values?

Alexander found it hard to understand, possibly due to the fact that he never had anything that was called family.

Or maybe in this case it was not simply just family.

It was happiness.

And the notable fact was that Alexander had never experienced it before.

True happiness.

He stood up, and left in thoughts.


Elsewhere, faraway.

"Sir, the 1st Assault unit, the Warlock, has been fully assembled. It is now ready for battle."

"Hmmm!" The Air chief marshal grinned in satisfaction. Now that the expedition forces had taken West Africa as their territory, the humans had currently gained back the initiative on the opposition against the Neurois. Now that he only had to transport the Warlock secretly to Africa, then the entire Gallia would be his. The Neurois would stand no chance against their own power.

"We will show the witches that the military is not a place for weak little girls!" He confidently stated, as the Warlock was transported away.


Alexander seemed to move between countries like nobody's business. But oh well, he had a ship after all.