October 1st 2050. East of Los Angeles, California, U.S.
The nightmares never end.
They slip in and out of my mind like ghosts, always leaving a chill to mark their passage but never standing still long enough to let me grasp at them, to try and make sense of the distorted images they contain.
Those images are memories. I know that much. Memories of my life before the day the world ended. When the world fell, everything was broken. The world broke. My mind was broken.
I have enough pieces of memory to reconstruct most of my life, but it's like a jigsaw with a dozen missing pieces. There's enough left to get a broad picture, but with many of the finer details absent. Enough to cause endless frustration.
For a flash I see the stern but solid visage of my former commander and wingman, the one who took me in and trained me in the use of this new weapon, the Symphogear. That fan of blue hair and the cool nobility she radiated at all times always told me that she would lead us to victory, that no enemy could stop us as long as she was in the vanguard. I swore I would fight by her side to the very gates of hell and back again.
Just like the real Kazanari Tsubasa, the memory disappears into the fog. Hers was the last voice I heard before we dropped into the hell made by a thousand G-Bombs. It swallowed us both up, but it only spat me out.
Another fragment of broken memory hurtles towards me, the worst one. The one I always know is coming, the one that awaits me every time I try to close my eyes and sleep.
A wall of purple energy surging towards me as I plummet helplessly towards what used to be Korea. Behind it is purest black, the black of the void, the black of oblivion. A power beyond any Symphogear of this Earth.
Before it I am nothing. It comes for me, hungering for me, looking to swallow up everything that has or will ever exist. It had already devoured all of Eurasia and yet was still not satisfied. Kazanari-senpai and I were its next morsels.
And just before it does…
My eyes snap open. My heart thunders in my chest, my pulse races. Everything is confusion. After a few frightening moments my eyes adjust to the dim light of the cockpit, green text scrolling on my retinal HUD that tells me this war machine is still in standby mode, powered down and awaiting events. The EMP shielding is in full effect.
Where am I? It takes a few seconds for rational thought to reassert itself. Then it all comes back to me.
I am Otohime Kaede, Symphogear Adaptor of the Empire of Japan, or rather what's left of it. Wielder of Aruval, the sword-sickle of Karuppasāmi and core of one of the first of the second-generation Symphogears. My Symphogear Surface Fighter, or SSF for short, is part of the Empire's expeditionary task force awaiting the third wave of BETA forces heading straight for Los Angeles, the greatest stronghold of Mankind left.
City of Angels, that's what the city's name means. There certainly must have been Angels looking out for the city, for while much of the United States and the world beyond it was swallowed up by the gravitational anomalies and low-Oxygen zones that sprang up in the wake of the all-consuming Babylon disaster, the core cities of California along with Seattle to the north were spared. Now these bastions of humanity are shielded from the BETA by the combined might of the remnants of the Empire of Japan and the United States.
And by the power invested in me, and my wingman.
She won't be awake yet. Once she goes to sleep, even the drugged-up forced sleep we are put under in these circumstances, only the most powerful drugs can hope to awaken her. So many times I have tried to shake her awake to no avail. Even logs could learn a trick or two.
I hate to use the word envy, but I beg for the chance to get a single night's sleep like that. I have been running on fumes for a while now, with nary a chance to recharge.
Now won't be that time. A two minute countdown starts. The operation is a go. The BETA swarm, coming across the endless salt flats to the south of Los Angeles that were once the bottom of the Ocean and are now an endless desert of brilliant white, are about to walk into the trap we have set for them.
'This is it,' I tell myself. The usual pre-battle mantra to ready the mind and soul, those Kazanari-senpai gave every time she sortied. 'This is my task. My duty. To lead, to fight, to defend all who still live. To sing a song no other can sing. Mine is the Way of the Sword. I aspire to the purpose of the blade. Cutting down all who stand before me.'
At one minute, the countdown turns red. I can feel my pulse accelerating again.
If we are to win this day, to defend our new homes from the enemy even our most desperate gamble was unable to fully eliminate, then I must step up, fight hard and show the world the power of the Symphogear, mankind's true final weapon against the darkness.
The roar of distant thunder cuts through the walls of my SSF cockpit. I feel it as much as I hear it, a shiver running through my machine and my body.
It's a sign of how desperate the times are that we're now relying on the use of Nuclear Landmines to slow the BETA. Before The Day, before the Great Ocean Collapse, we would never have used such weapons so profligately. Times have changed. To hold on for but a single day further, even the most horrific of weapons must be employed. It's too much to ask that the Atomics wipe the BETA out completely, but it certainly makes a dent in their interminable numbers.
Enough of a dent for us Adaptors to swoop in and clean up the mess.
Time's ticking down.
3...2...1…
With a flash of light and a humming of engines, my SSF powers up. Systems initialise, streams of data course through my eyes. All systems are green. I cancelled the Forced Sleep release agent as fast as I could. Given I was already awake, all that stuff would do is give me a nasty prick. Once the stimm has kicked in, it'll only take a few seconds before…
Right on cue a window activates in my HUD.
Amber eyes peer at me through auburn bangs, bright and eager.
"You're up already Otohime-senpai?" She starts warmly. "Is it that time again?"
I nod. "The Reaction mines have gone off. You know the drill."
She gives me a hearty grin. "We're going to smash some Martian Crab shits to pulp, rip the heart right out of them. Bathe the earth in their blood." Her smile sharpens. "Isn't that right?"
Yazawa Nanami scares me when she does that. No 17 year old should have that glint in their eye when talking about killing. None should take as much pleasure as she does in the best way to end the existence of her enemies. But she's as much a sign of the costs of this war. Whole generations have grown up knowing nothing but fighting the BETA.
Wielder of Uchide no kozuchi, the wishing hammer of Japan. My wingman. My student. The next link in the chain of Symphogear Adaptors that started with the Amou Kanade, the Phoenix of Yokohama nearly a decade ago. The skills we learn are passed down from Adaptor to Adaptor, our training in turn preparing the next generation to repeat the cycle.
Kazanari-senpai entrusted me with the knowledge and wisdom passed on to her. It is up to me to repay her by passing that down to Nanami, and then someday it'll be Nanami's turn to pass it on...
"Senpai? What are you doing?" Nanami peers at me with that same mixture of annoyance and concern she has every time she catches me spacing out. It seems I'm still not entirely free from overthinking things after all.
"J-just reviewing our operational status. That's all." I told her. Her look tells me she doesn't believe a word of it.
Before she can go any further, a window pops open on the retinal HUD with a new face on it. One that warms my heart to see.
Brown eyes blaze with intense focus as they take in the dozens of officers leading the Japanese forces today. Jagged brown hair peaks into two points on her head. "This is the commander. We are commencing operations, all units activate and sound off. I repeat…"
Jinguuji Marimo, Major and commander of the 1st Tactical Armoured Battalion of the Japanese Empire. One of the most hardened and skilled officers in the entire Imperial Army, on loan from Seattle Command to help coordinate the southern defences now that the BETA have seemingly turned their attention away from Seattle and towards Los Angeles.
"All units confirmed activated. It's time for action." The Major tells us. "The Reaction Mines have done their job, and now the rest is up to us. The second stage of the operation begins now. We will engage and eliminate the remaining forces."
A map pops up of the salt flats south-west of Los Angeles. A three-pronged red blob is advancing towards us, the horde no longer moving as one endless wave.
The Empire's 3rd Tactical Armor Battalion is deployed to the north of this advance, with American forces forming the bulk of the line further south. We've fought alongside the Americans numerous times up north, but in Seattle they'd been well outnumbered by the Empire's forces. Here was the opposite case, with the Empire's forces merely an escort for the Commander and here for joint exercises. And now by a stroke of ill-gotten fortune, here to take part in yet another BETA assault.
Major Jinguuji smiled as she continued: "Good news for everyone: the Laser Class are once again conspicuous by their absence. Fly free, and don't hesitate to use altitude if necessary. Every little advantage helps."
We haven't seen the dreaded Laser-class BETA since Operation Babylon. The hordes emerging from the salt and sea both here and at Seattle are bereft of the BETA's ultimate weapons, and that more than anything has helped prevent either city from going the way of Singapore, Berlin, Minsk or any of the other cities martyred by the BETA.
We can also credit the leadership of officers like Jinguuji Marimo. Good leadership is vital to any success, and we are blessed with a woman who more than any other has carried us through thick and thin. Without her, the Empire would be lost.
And finally there is Nanami and I. Harp Flight, the Empire of Japan's Symphogear Fighters. The two most deadly weapons in the IJMDF's arsenal. Sent from warzone to warzone as needed. From the fields and forests of the Canadian borderlands to the endless salt flats where oceans once stood.
I'm glad we're here today. Fighting the BETA is always preferable. There is no guilt to fighting them, no feeling of despair that comes when man clashes with man over the scraps left of the world, where the only winner is the BETA themselves. We've both killed many men and women in the border struggles. I accept it as part of my duty to the Empire. It never gets any easier.
And best of all, we don't have to face our dark shadows, the enemy Symphogear Adaptors. Fighting them is the worst. It nearly broke us the last time around. Part of the reason we find ourselves here today.
The Major isn't done yet with her pep-talk. "We are fighting to defend one of the last bastions of humanity left in the world. If we lose Los Angeles then we take a blow we will never recover from. The fate of all Mankind is at stake today, not just the United States or the Empire of Japan. Our people back home in Seattle are counting on our victory here today. Never forget that!"
A chorus of cheers must have come through the other intercoms, as the Major gave a sharp smile. "All units, to your positions!" she ordered before her portrait disappeared from the screen.
"So where are we going Kaede-senpai?" Nanami asks me.
"Wherever the enemy are thickest. As for that…"
Right on cue, a notification pops up and the Major's face comes through on a secure line.
"Harp One, do you copy?" She asks me.
"Harp One, I read you loud and clear. Where are we doing the killing today?"
"You don't hold back, do you Lieutenant Otohime?" She tells me, a small grin on her lips.
"I'm sure the results of the last five battles of Seattle and four border wars speak to our track record." I tell her factually. "This is what we Adaptors are made for."
"Indeed." The Major jumps to the point "The main thrust of the BETA advance is running through sector D."
Sector D. I bring it up on my map. Twenty-two kilometers south-east. The silhouettes of mushroom clouds point the way outside.
The Major's next words catch me off guard, even though I was waiting for them.
"I can confirm that the Americans are deploying their Comet flight to the battle."
"T-the Americans!" Nanami splutters. "Does that mean we'll be…"
"Yazawa!" I cautioned.
The Major looks sympathetically at her. "Officially, you will each be assigned to separate sectors. But I can tell you the Comets have been sent to sector E."
Side by side. And it wouldn't take much for us to cross paths.
The Major fixes me with that knowing gaze. "You both knew at some point we'd need to be able to pool our most powerful weapons."
The topic of the Comets had crossed my mind a few times after we'd received our orders. California has been under the protection of America's own Symphogear Pilots. They'd been held back from the Seattle hot zone while we were left to bolster the defences up north. That was the first question I had when I'd received my orders three days ago. Why did the Americans suddenly need the support of the Empire's elites as well?
The Major pressed on. "Beyond culling the BETA, you need to demonstrate to the Comets what you are capable of. Just as I imagine they will be trying to show you what they can do. I imagine there will be a formal introduction after this battle is done, but first impressions are everything, and first impressions on the battlefield matter most of all. Understood?"
"Yes Major!" we both yell.
Jinguuji gives a little chuckle. "I don't need to expect great things from you. But try and come back in one piece, okay?"
"That's not fair!" Nanami cannot hold herself back. "I brought my arm back with me last time."
The Major has already disconnected.
"That was after that Canadian bitch had struck it off with her spear. And then you tried to beat her machine over the head with it." I scolded her.
Nanami gives one of her luminous blushes. "S-senpai! If I hadn't done that, she would have put that spear right through one of your jump units! I had to distract her somehow!"
I can't even pretend to be mad at her. "And it wasn't a total loss. Just try to be a bit less gung-ho this time around. Leave that to the Americans. I hear they're very good at it."
And again we come back to the subject. "So we're going to see the Comets in action?" Nanami's eyes shine in the lights. "What Relics do you think they'll have? Do they sing like we do?"
"We'll get the answers soon enough. Right now, we have a job to do. Are you ready Nanami?" I ask her.
"Ready and eager, Kaede-senpai!"
I feel a wolfish smile cross my lips, and feel the surge of savage joy that comes each time I prepare to don the Symphogear. Did Kazanari-senpai ever feel this way when she was set to enter battle? Is this a feeling all Adaptors share? Or is it just me?
I get on the horn to our 'handler', Captain Tomosato Aoi. "This is Harp Flight, we are activating our Relics."
I begin the holy chant, words of power that activate my relic and empower me to fight.
A Symphogear Fighter is nothing like a normal TSF. When you activate it, you don't just pilot it the way you do a normal TSF. I was already a fully commissioned Eishi before I was picked up as an Adaptor and I thought it would be easy to transfer my skills from one to the other. Kazanari-senpai quickly showed me the error of my thinking.
When the SSF is activated, you become the machine. I wear the machine as I would wear a BDU, it becomes a perfect extension of my body.
My eyes open anew, and I see the world once more. I am now a 60 foot high engine of destruction, the finest mankind has ever made. My flesh is Relic-enhanced super-carbon, my bones high-yield alloys. The blade of Aruval itself is clenched tightly in my hands. Already the music of my heart begins to play about me through the audio amplifiers of my SSF and my heart swells with my song. An overture before the main event.
Nanami stands beside me. The Relics reshape the outer surface of our SSFs to match the weapons they wield. Her machine's armour is no longer the smooth lines of a TSF, but clearly resembles the ancient armours of our sunken homeland, a pair of short hammers glowing with runes held at the ready.
"Harp flight confirming Relic activation."
"Aufwachen signal is broadcasting loud and clear!" comes the voice of Captain Tomosato. She's been working with us Adaptors since the days of Alternative IV, a student of the creator of those Symphogears, Sakurai Ryoko. "Good luck Harp Flight. I'll be watching."
I turn to Nanami, gesturing at the mushroom clouds even now breaking apart and the steady thunder in the distance of massed artillery fire tells me the battle is already beginning.
And we're not going to miss it for the world.
"With me, Nanami! Let's squish some bugs!"
This was once the Pacific Ocean. An expanse of blue seas that covered half the world. Much of it is gone now, but where once flowed expanses of water, now come the expansive hordes of the enemy.
You never fight just one BETA. You fight thousands, millions of them in a single, ceaseless tide of alien flesh. Every last BETA, from the smallest Warriors to the largest Forts, is a perfectly engineered killing machine that works together in perfect harmony like clockwork. And all of them want to kill you and eat you.
That combination of numbers and synchronous killing potential swept mankind from most of the Earth before Operation Babylon. They necessitated the levelling of Eurasia and Africa with G-Bombs, the ultimate weapon born of Man's desperation. And even after all that the BETA continue their relentless assaults on what is left of humanity after it all went wrong.
Those numbers mean nothing to a Symphogear Fighter.
(Play: Kikokugai - Sworddancer I)
I sing a song of slaughter. A Symphogear elevates the song in your heart, and my song brings death to the BETA, to all enemies of the Empire.
To the Tamil people of India, Aruval is the weapon of choice, a symbol of peace and war. It's wielder, Karuppasāmi was a god of justice and protection, defender of his people. To me, it is the sickle that cuts away the weeds choking mankind. Be they BETA or Human, they clog up the garden we seek to grow, and so they must be removed.
With extreme prejudice.
Every blow reaps away the BETA. All who stand before me fall. It doesn't matter if they're red-skinned Tanks with their gnashing teeth and grasping arms, crab-like Grapplers with their battering-ram claws, blindly charging Destroyers or even the mighty Hammerhead and Fort-classes that spell doom for any TSF who dares challenge them. All are cut down like wheat before the thresher.
Where I am the cutter, Nanami is the smasher.
Uchide no kozuchi is the wishing hammer. In Nanami's hands it becomes a hammer of woe. Her only wish, the destruction of her foe. A wish granted with every blow.
Two women, two machines, alone in the heart of the swarm. No Artillery support, no fellow TSFs at our side. If either of us were to fall, we would be consumed by the BETA long before any help could come. That is the risk we take. But we are Adaptors, wielders of Symphogears.
A dozen Tank-class come apart with a single sweeping blow. A trio of Grapplers barely have time to swing at the empty air before their claws and heads fall off and the broken bodies split apart like broken toys. A mighty Hammerhead lunges for me with one pillar-like arm, only for my sword to rip the offending arm off before burying its length into the monster's chest cavity, ripping it clean with a crimson arc.
Any BETA who dares face me dies. And there is never a shortage out for my blood.
"Otohime-san, how are we doing?" Nanami shakes the crimson ichor of the BETA from her hammers. The black and white patterning of her SSF's armour is almost completely red from the carnage she has inflicted.
The mechanics often curse us for forcing them to wash all the gore coating our SSFs. They can gripe all they want. Coming back to base red from head to foot is the best sign of a job well done.
I bisect a massive Powered Grappler with a single sweep of my sword and turn to her. "As long as there are still living BETA out here, our job is not yet done. You know what we do?"
"Kill, kill and kill some more?"
"Exactly. Our songs have yet to reach their crescendo. Let's not keep the BETA waiting."
We take off for the next wave of BETA. A wall of Destroyer-class, green-purple carapaces almost like the head-shields of ancient dinosaurs, their unarmoured parts bristling with numerous hair-like antennae. Spaced among them are the heavy blue-green beaked carapaces of towering Super Destroyers, a larger and more fearsome variant of the standard Destroyer-class. What they both share in common is that their frontal armour can only be pierced by the heaviest of weapons.
Unfortunately for them no amount of armour can stop our holy weapons.
A single blow from Aruval carves a Super Destroyer clean in two. Two more have their frontal headshields imploded by Uchide no kozuchi. We punch clean through the wave of Destroyers and proceed to break it down piece by piece, the monsters mindlessly charging forwards even as we lay waste to them.
No TSF could achieve this level of carnage. But the SSF can. The perfect fusion of Relic and TSF. The final fruits of Alternative IV and the gift of Sakurai Ryoko even as her own dreams died around her.
I never met the creator of the Symphogears. She had vanished long before my arrival. She'd made too many enemies in the pursuit of Alternative IV, who when it was cancelled came searching for retribution. But both Kazanari-senpai and Captain Tomosato have spoken often of her, of genius untrammeled and a burning desire for victory regardless of the cost.
Idiot, concentrate! "Forts to the front!" I yell as a dozen of the colossal vespidine giants crash towards us on their spindly legs. Each one is a veritable fortress on legs - hence the name Fort-class - with a face seemingly grinning evilly at us.
"I got it!" Nanami is already taking off, jump units flaring blue.
Stingers fly towards us on extended tentacles. If one was to merely touch either of us, its acid would melt a hole clean through. But we are Adaptors. We dodge every stinger, and in an instant are upon them. Nanami combines the twin hammers into a single one, which grows in size until its head rivals a battle tank. One blow squishes the nearest Fort like an ant. I slice another one end-to-end with my blade, and the monster falls neatly in half like a surgical dissection. Between us the Forts last for only a few minutes before all of them lie in ruin.
"Do we know how the rest of the forces are doing?" Nanami asks me as we clean up the swarms of Tank-class left in the Fort's wake.
I bring up a tactical map. "The front seems to be holding well." After a further second to study the map, I amend my assessment. "But there's growing pressure in sector-C5. Enemy numbers are building there."
"That's on the border of sector D isn't it? Do you think we'll find the Americans there?"
"If they're anything like us, they'll also be where the foe is thickest. I think the time has come where we cross paths with our fellow Adaptors, don't you think?"
The SSF inclines its head, and I can almost see Nanami nodding. "Let's go show them what the Empire's Adaptors are capable of!"\
The first sign of the American Adaptors were flashes of fire and columns of smoke rising to the south. For a second I almost thought it was artillery support, before remembering that we were operating far out of the range of our supporting guns.
"What kind of Relic do you think that is?" Nanami asked as she knocked the head clean off of a Grappler before squishing the rest.
"Ask them yourself once we get there!" One swing of my blade and a dozen Tanks split open like rotten fruit. Red gore soaks into the salt.
As we get closer, streaks of golden light start to paint trails in the sky. Some explode like fireworks, raining showers of sparks down on the BETA beneath.
"They seem to be having fun," I remarked.
"Think they'll be willing to share?" Nanami casually stomped on the 'head' of a thrashing Grappler.
"There's more than enough to go around, that's for sure."
Here in the heart of the swarm, you can only see splashes of the white salt beneath the red, brown, grey, blue and black of the many different strains of BETA all moving together with common purpose. So tightly packed together are they that every blow we inflict claims dozens of the stinking crab shits. And more fill the gaps every time we do so. I can't help but worry about the pilots far behind us, for they are the ones who will ultimately have to stop this horde dead in its tracks before it gets too close to the city. Many brave men and women will die, no matter how hard we fight.
That's not for want of trying.
Even with the disruptions caused by atmospheric effects, we should be close enough by now to attempt contact. I hope the automatic translators are working fine. While my English is passable, it's not enough that I don't feel embarrassed whenever I have to use it, or more self-conscious when my 'engrish' is pointed out.
"Attention Comet flight, this is Harp-1, of the Empire of Japan's Symphogear Adaptors. Word on the grapevine is that you're hogging the BETA, and we'd like our share."
The communication window flickers open to reveal brilliant green eyes glaring at me from beneath richly styled, voluminous blonde hair, vivid red lips already twisted with dissatisfaction.
"Harp flight, so nice to see you join us. I see you're ready for the big-leagues."
Not well-disposed towards us. Hardly surprising. "We were getting a bit bored where we were, and we'd like a real challenge."
"A real challenge? So does this not compare with the BETA attacks on Seattle?"
The more I look at her, the more struck I am by the blonde woman, at the divide between her looks and the rather sour vibe she's giving off. Not like this was guaranteed to start on a good footing.
"No, this is exactly like what we've encountered in the north. And that's why we're here today," I reply neutrally. "I am Otohime Kaede, it is a pleasure to meet you."
A pause. Those intense eyes flicker over me. "Alicia Bernstein. Though you already have my ident tag."
"I prefer a more personal introduction, Alicia-san."
"Is this a Japanese thing?" She asks back.
"I'd like to think politeness is universal. Like a song," I tell her. "We are all soldiers of song here, using that power to slaughter these Martian Crab shits who brought such pain and suffering to the world. Now enough talking and more killing."
Her lips curl up into a feral grin of solidarity. "Very well. We'll show you killing: American style."
Our SSFs land next to theirs in a clearing surrounded by broken and burned BETA bodies. At one glance you can tell theirs are American machines, all sharp points and tight angles beneath the Symphogear elements. Alicia's machine drips with vivid colours of red, blue and saffron, a massive bow as tall as a lamppost in one hand. Her wingman's craft shines with the gold of brilliant sunlight, bands of deepest black offsetting the shining radiance. A mirror-polished round shield hangs from one arm and what looks like a carved club is tightly held in the other.
A companion window reveals a dark-skinned woman with a fiery smile. "Simone Park, Comet 2. Welcome to the land run red with slaughter."
Even through the translator her voice, an authoritative and detached Cali drawl, still instantly commands my attention.
Nanami's face pops up. "H-hello. I am Yazawa Nanami. I-I hope we can get along, American Adaptors!" It spills out in a jumble of words. Introductions have never been her strong suit.
"I hope we can too," Simone grins at her. She seems a lot friendlier than her counterpart. Then a glint flashes in her dark eyes. "So, who's going to be the first to reach 10,000 BETA?"
"That will be us," I take up the gauntlet. "The Empire was the first to unlock the power of the Relics, and I was trained by the legendary Kazanari Tsubasa herself."
"I've heard that name somewhere before," Alicia muses. Oh shit, I shouldn't have mentioned her. The name of Kazanari is an infamous one, and while I will not judge my mentor by the crimes of her family, others are sure to do so.
"The Empire might have been first, but we've done it best." Alicia continues coolly. "And we're very happy to show you just what we can do."
Now to change the subject. "Then show us all you are capable of!" I tell them as my jump units kick into overdrive and I throw myself right for the advancing wall of BETA, sword at the ready.
A wall of golden shafts fly right past me and the entire front rank of BETA falls before I plough into the second rank, cutting an equal swathe through them with the edge of my blade.
Tongues of fire sail past me, stabbing into the carpet of BETA and burning black stripes in the white salt. Flickers of fire incinerate hundreds.
Alicia's Relic is a bow of some sort, and Simone's weapon controls fire. They're powerful Relics, no surprises there. The Americans spent a lot of their blood and treasure securing the most powerful Relics for themselves even when their own programs for employing their power lagged behind those of the Soviet Union or the Empire of Japan. They'd supported the Relic program of Alternative IV even as they worked to undermine it. And when Professor Sakurai Ryoko took her revenge for the failure of Alternative IV and leaked the knowledge to make Symphogears, the United States was ready and waiting.
Simone lands beside me, and I see how her Relic works. What I first thought was a club is no club at all but rather an atlatl or spear thrower. With every throw it generates balls and bolts and blasts of star-born fire, incinerating all the BETA they touch. Her song is off to me, a shifting funk beat and a tumble of words my translator can barely keep up with that might rhyme in English but certainly don't in Japanese. Hip Hop, a musical genre I have never really understood but one that Simone has made her own.
"Your sword is swicked. French-style. Is your relic French too?"
Simone is fishing for information. We are under no obligation to reveal our Relics. That information became a state secret when the Sakurai leaks began an international arms race over who would wield the power of the Relics. If you know their Relic, you can begin to piece together a way to fight it.
But are we not here to cooperate? To try and overcome the distrust between us and find a way to work together?
I remind myself of the truth that Major Jinguuji showed me through her work in Seattle. When the home islands were lost beneath the waves, the United States let the peoples of Japan in. They moved out their own people to give the Citizens of the Empire places to stay. That is a debt we owe, and one we intend to repay in full.
"This is Aruval, Relic of India." I tell them as I split my way through the sea of BETA. "The sword is a billhook machete. It has nothing to do with the 'Death Scythe' of the French."
If that doesn't stir a response, I don't know what will. I have given the identity of my Relic away freely. Now to see how the Americans take it.
"...Have you fought the French?" Alicia's machine draws back her arm, releasing hundreds of brilliant bolts from the mighty bow. They rained down upon the BETA like a furious wind. Her song follows that wind, her voice filled with a righteous anger directed at the BETA she slaughters. So very American, to lecture your enemy on their sins even as you slaughter them.
"...yes we have." I tell them, and drop one further detail. "We have also fought the Canadian Adaptors."
Eyes widen on both black and white faces. Doubtless they both know about our dark shadows across the Canadian border. No sooner had Eurasia sank than the French jumped on the Americans and haven't stopped punching since. And that drew in the two junior partners, the Canadians with the French and the Empire of Japan for the Americans. Adaptor vs Adaptor has become the centrepiece of these bitter clashes where all we have ever fought for is thrown away time and again.
"What kinda hell is fighting another Adaptor?" Simone raises a wall of fire with a gesture from her weapon, the BETA immolating themselves against it. A defensive screen of fire, a powerful ability right there. We can use that.
"They're going to say it's worse," Alicia corrects brusquely. "That much is obvious."
"Different, is what I would say," I interrupt them. "They are us, fighting as fiercely as we do but for a cause inimical to our own."
"What the fuck?" Simone peers at me puzzled. It seems the translation software didn't quite carry that meaning.
"It means they want to kill us," Nanami catches my meaning immediately.
"Pretty much," I concur. "That's why I prefer fighting the BETA. This is therapy by comparison." I emphasize my words by tearing the 'head' from a lumbering Grappler with the hook-tip of my sword.
Simone's machine returns to my side. "Therapy? Really? I guess it works for you." She raises her weapon. "The princess won't tell you her Relic, she got the rulebook shoved right up her ass. Mine is Xiuhcoatl, the Aztec serpent of fire and Atlatl of Huitzilopochtli!" How the translator was able to convey those names really impressed me for a second.
Simone holds out her weapon for a second, allowing me to see the images of snakes and scales glowing upon its surface. The Atlatl is an ancient weapon, as old as mankind.
She then turns and hurdles a dozen tongues of flame into the advancing BETA.
Alicia scowls, the look unbecoming of her pretty face. "You didn't even give me a chance to speak." She tells Simone harshly. "Do you think so little of me that you have to go right over the top without even giving me the benefit of the doubt?"
"This ain't about you princess," Simone replies. "This is about dodging the bullshit and putting us on the level."
"That's not about to happen any time soon," I insert myself into the conversation with all the grace of a sack of bricks. But that's exactly what's needed right now. "We're all beholden to our respective governments. And they are the ones who decreed our meeting. It's just the BETA got in first."
"Good thing they did then. We don't have to have suits breathing down our necks." Simone's tone goes from sour to cheerful in an instant. She really doesn't seem to get on well with her wingman. Not a good sign, divided these women will fall. If they'd fought the Canadians like this neither would return to base.
"Alicia-san, if you don't wish to tell me your Relic I entirely understand." I told her. "Do not let your wingman dictate to you what to do."
Simone blinks in surprise at my dig at her, but Alicia's expression cools somewhat. "Thank you Otohime. As it happens I too wield an Indian Relic. Gandiva, the bow of Arjuna. The last revenge of India against the BETA who brought her low, and my honour to wield." She draws back on her bow, and releases a searing beam of light that lances a pathway through the throng of Aliens before her, turning all it touches into black shadows on the salt.
"A-And mine is the wish-giving hammer, Uchide no kozuchi! T-Though it's not very good at granting wishes these days. Unless you're wishing for some broken BETA, heh." Nanami laughs awkwardly, but she's greeted by smiles from both the Americans.
"So now we know what we've got, let's demonstrate what we can do with them." I ramp up the tempo of my song, and in time with the music my blade swells and extends. This was a technique Kazanari-senpai taught me. She was always a better swordswoman than I was, and often chided me for my lack of what she perceived as 'artistry'. I was never a duellist like her, I have always been a butcher.
A blade as long as a freight train slashes a vast arc right through the BETA, thousands of bodies falling apart in an instant flood of red gore. The sword shrinks to normal size, reduced length still slick red.
"Challenge accepted." Alicia gave a keening cry as she drew her bow back, a swirling vortex of vivid energy coalescing around her. With a great crack splitting the air she released it, the stream of energy coalescing into thousands of Needles of light. Each flew with ineering accuracy into the heart of an advancing BETA, big or small. In a single second everything from towering Hammerheads to creeping Tanks collapsed, their collective demise throwing up a massive cloud of powdered white into the air.
"My turn!" Nanami flew into the air, hoisting her hammers. Their heads grew to the size of cargo containers.
The shockwave from her hammerfall descent squished the BETA as though the hammer had come down on them directly. A carpet of crushed bodies sprawled before her, an impressive amount of carnage. Mere seconds later the surging tide of living BETA began to cross the bodies of their dead. It was a complete massacre yet the BETA continued to charge.
"Not bad, Hammer-girl." Simone's machine gave a nod to Nanami, before turning once more to the advancing BETA. "Now witness the fury of Xiuhcoatl!" A sudden burst of combustion ignites the air around her SSF, and it soars into the sky as a fiery shadow beneath a blazing sun. With a defining hook the fire surged forward as a sea of destructive inferno to match the sea of aliens. The tides of fire easily wash over the tides of flesh.
An entire wing of TSFs could not match the destructive potential of even a single SSF. And now there are four of us here. Truly the Symphogear was the perfect weapon, one that came too late to prevent humanity from committing its greatest sin.
And even as we kill hundreds and thousands with every attack, still more come on. The weakness of the first Adaptors was one of endurance. Kazanari-senpai taught me of how in her first actions the problem wasn't with the killing, it was how fast or sustained that killing was. It is a lesson that was taken on board with my training, and now not only can we control the Relics more efficiently, we can sustain their power for long hours of ceaseless, remorseless slaughter.
Crap, for a second there I nearly spaced out again! The burning wave ebbs, and even after all that killing the next wave of BETA arrives on the scene as regular as clockwork.
Unceasing, unstopping, unwilling to let up for as long as a single one of them lived. When you fought the BETA, you fought an enemy built for total war in a way no human could ever hope to match.
Except for us. "A fine sight, but I can go one better!" Soaring into the sky, I then slash downwards with my blade extended right across the face of the BETA hordes, blood and gore cresting behind me.
Spinning her hammers, Nanami tore in beside me. I don't need to see that smile, one that is always slightly unnerving to see on her face.
The day's slaughter is not yet done.
After forty-seven minutes of relentless action, the American Air Force finally entered the fray. We separated from our American counterparts and moved on to clearing up the pockets of BETA left behind by the cab ranks of American bombers as they passed overhead, seeding explosions in their wake.
Most are B-52 Stratofortresses, a true antique weapon with airframes an entire century old. Yet here they are, still flying and still dropping 70,000 lb of bombs each onto the BETA below. They had been held in storage after the arrival of the Laser-class signalled their demise, and now the Lasers were gone they could return to the forefront of destruction delivery.
The Imperial and American TSFs had already withdrawn from the salt flats back to base. Cleanup is left to the bombers. And to us.
Thankless tasks are the backbone of the Adaptor's life.
Finally the face of Major Jinguuji pops up in our vision. "CO to Harp Flight. The last pockets are under American air cover. You can come home now."
"What about the American Adaptors?
"They're coming home too. Command was suitably impressed by your joint performance against the heart of the BETA herd."
Turns out a bit of healthy competition can really do wonders for the enthusiasm. I haven't seen Nanami take such pleasure in the butcher's work for a while. Her fighting had become stale, workmanlike. All the heart drained from it.
That's all the Canadian Adaptors doing. Their fights with us are as psychological as they are armed clashes. Symphogears alone are roughly evenly matched, any weakness is the weakness of the Adaptor piloting them. And being shown your own weakness by your enemies is the worst kind of feeling.
At least here we were all fighting together, living up to the promise made by those first six Adaptors when they had come together for Alternative IV. How I wish I could have been there with them, and not a hastily-drafted replacement Adaptor following Operation Iceberg.
That was the first time I encountered the Symphogear Adaptors. An ordinary Eishi of the Imperial forces, watching the streaks of coloured light descending from on high silhouetted against the slablike levels of the Hive Monument. Orange, blue, red, pink and green. Music that carried across the island as the Noble Six entered the fray, songs of hope following in their wake. We cheered as loud as we could when they arrived, it seemed as though the tide itself was finally turning. Unaware that before the day was done...
"...Otohime-san? Is something the matter?"
Shit! That's the Major! "M-my apologies Major Jinguuji! I was thinking about the abilities displayed by the American Adaptors in the field."
"Their Symphogears are quintessentially American," she postulates. "Built for ranged combat, for hanging back and laying waste to the foe from a comfortable distance. It's a winning formula. At least as long as you have the ammo to shoot and the propellant to burn. Not that the Relics lack either." The Major gives a thoughtful smile. "You compliment each other well in that regard, what with the Empire's Gears being close-quarters weapons. I can well imagine that will come in useful further down the line."
The Major must have been monitoring us closely during the battle. Which also means...
"They revealed their Relics to us." I told her. She already knows, but it's better if I come clean. "And we told them ours."
There are no formal orders anymore to conceal our Relics, not with the world gone down the shitter, but we still let slip what before Babylon was considered state secrets. Kazanari-senpai would give me a firm slap on the cheek for that one, she was always a stickler for the rules.
The Major nods. "At some point we would have given them that information, if only for the interests of mutual benefit. Do not feel bad about it, Otohime-san."
"Yes sir!" The Major really seems to care for those under her. She takes our losses personally and fights as hard for us as we do for her.
"There'll be much to discuss at the debriefing. I'll see you both back at base. And Harp flight," That smile she only ever seems to share with us comes to her lips, "we couldn't have done it without you. Thank you."
The window cuts out.
"Home?" Now that the battle is over, Nanami's voice seems drained of all energy. Her eyes, once bright and shining, now peer at me with a listless stare.
Home. Such a strange word to use when our home is gone, sunk beneath the waves. The islands of Japan no longer exist, and the surviving peoples of the Empire are now confined to leased territories from the United States in Hawaii and Seattle. And here we are, not even in that territory, but fighting for the surviving American heartlands in California.
"Aye. We're being stationed at the El Segundo Base, so that's where we'll be heading. After Captain Tomosato has debriefed us, we can have a nice, long shower."
"That sounds nice…"