Visiting England was something I had always wanted to do when I was younger. It was one of the most powerful countries on earth at one point. Hell, the French barely managed to live near them, and we all know what they did to the Chinese with the Opium trade. Honestly, getting your consumer hooked on a product to sell more is a devilish idea; unfortunately, providing opioids alongside your products was outlawed a long time ago. Modern law tends to frown upon using narcotics as a selling point.

However, that was my history. I'm admittedly a little unfamiliar with this world's version of the Opium Wars. But, unsurprisingly, it seems just like back on earth, the familiar adage of England being rainy all the time holds true. Take now, for instance. I'm currently flying 6,000 feet in the air, feeling the rain impact my defensive shell. Well, rain and bullets, that is.

"Serebryakov, tell Koenig to provide covering fire for us!" I looked towards my computational jewel as I poured mana into my messaging spell. "Weiss, I need you to follow at a distance behind us to pick off any overzealous Unified State volunteers with a death wish!"

Sometimes, forgetting where you are on such a rainy day is easy. However, the gunpowder and smoke stops Tanya from entirely leaving the moment. Honestly, this whole situation is unfortunate. We've been tasked with supporting the Empire's navy as it patrols a hot zone, which puts us high in the air smack dab in the middle of the English Channel! It's a miracle we have any visibility at all with this weather, not that I have any desire to thank Being X for these conditions.

"Serebryakov, we're pushing in for a firing run. Have your shield up, and your rifle pointed forward!"

Wind whistles through my ears as I lead the charge with the rest of my squad. While this little stunt may seem brave, by staying at the front of the formation, enemy mages will aim at me and, instead, hit those behind me. Ah, it's always nice to seem like a model soldier while putting myself at minimal risk. As always, the human shields of the 203rd will do their job splendidly. Not that I want any of them to get hurt; after all, that's a waste of all the time I invested getting them here.

The sound of gunfire loosens from my men behind me, quickly followed by the booms from explosive formulas hitting true. While some Volunteer mages seem to have survived the salvo through evasive maneuvers or super-powering their defensive shells, I see a few others explode into bloody flowers, their flesh making orange accents to the overwhelming red. War really is an unfortunate thing, seeing all of these human resources going to waste for such a stupid cause and conflict. But I'm a soldier, and I have to complete my orders. I'd rather not be executed back at base by my higher-ups.

"Major!" The grainy voice of Lieutenant Weiss crackles out of my type 97. "According to the local CP, we're supposed to get hit by some heavy Fog!"

Of course, this day really was shaping up to be one of the worst.

"Roger that Weiss," Once again, I used my computation orb to whip up a messaging spell. "All Squads, we're expecting some low visibility soon. Make sure to keep your formations tightly packed! I don't expect any of you to get hit, but if you do, plan on adding some money towards the post-mission celebration fund!"

The laughter coming from my jewel reminds me of how important it is to manage your subordinates' stress. Any good supervisor worth their degree should be able to improve their employees' moods.

"Alright! Let's finish this and get out of the rain."

"Yeah, I'd rather not risk having to fund the next party."

"Hey, you didn't even have to pay for anything last time! I lost a whole week of pay!"

My three other Lieutenants seem to be relaxed enough. However, like any supervisor, I should still stress the importance of doing the job you applied for.

"Now, now, let's mop up the rest of these stragglers and finish our mission." Might as well end it on a call to action, "We'll show those Americans that they should have never entered this war in the first place!"

I said all that, but I feel like I'm swallowing my own words here. Visibility has officially been reduced to friendly fire levels. Needing to triple-check every target is really increasing my chances of getting shot. But I can't risk hitting my own men. I can't imagine a major who shot their own soldier getting promoted very far up the track. Especially with the excuse of 'Well, I thought it was an enemy wearing our uniforms!' being the only thing I could really say.

"Shit, I just saw two of mine getting hit!" and the bad news keeps rolling, "Koenig, what's the status of your company?"

"Two wounded, none dead Major! We're still combat capable."

Well, it could be worse. Unfortunately, Koenig's company is down to seven mages, and one must accompany the other two back to base. So that just leaves 6, including the Lieutenant. Incredible luck, as always.

"Alright, send one of the uninjured to escort the other tw-" A stream of light flies directly past my eyes, quickly followed by an explosion from somewhere behind me, "Have the other two escorted back to base!"

Luckily my defensive shell withstood the blast, but this is quickly growing into a complete cluster fuck! We drilled for this sort of condition for crying out loud, but the real thing is incomparable.

"Major, CP's picked up on volunteer reinforcements coming this way!" Weiss's staticky voice remains firm despite the bad news.

"Keep your wits about you!" Alright, we need to get out of this fog. If we fly up, we may be able to pierce out the top of it; if we're fast enough, we may be able to avoid any further casualties.

"Attention all company leaders! Elevate yourselves and your men to 7000 meters! Once you arrive at that altitude, wait 15 seconds and send a barrage of timed explosive formulas down into the clouds!"

If everything goes according to plan, the 203rd will ascend faster than any volunteer greenhorn can, and the explosive formulas will catch any of the more experienced ones trying to follow us. It will leave us open in the air but separate a portion of their forces—a fair trade in less-than-ideal circumstances.

And yet, as I feel myself ascending to the 7000 meter mark, visibility still hasn't improved! I don't want to push for 8000, as that's nearing the limit of my battalion's effective combat altitude. I really wish Being X would come down here and fight in this weather himself, I can just imagine him looking down at me with a smile plastered on his smug face right now! Damn Devil threw me into this situation in the first place. First, he made me into a little girl, and now I need to fight in a battle with visibility so bad I can barely see the end of my submachine gun!

I need to calm down and do my job.

Carefully, I point my submachine gun downwards and ready up a volley of explosive spells using my computational orb. I triple-checked the calculations, and after 15 seconds, I let loose my bullets. The sound of nearly 48 rifles shooting explosive formulas downwards fills my ears, the resulting explosions almost deafening me. Shockwaves from down below momentarily parted the clouds. That alone gave us more visibility than we've had over the past 20 minutes.

The results of the volley were better than expected; multiple mangled mages were falling to the clouds below us, and the ones still flying seemed to have taken some damage as well. It was close, but we might actually get out of this with only two wounded. However, there was one peculiar thing about this whole situation. One of the minimally wounded and admittedly young volunteers seemed to stare at me. Her two brown braids waved messily before her face, and her eyes appeared to shift to a radiant gold color. Her mouth seemed to be wide open in disbelief.

Well. If you didn't want to experience war, you shouldn't have enlisted. I won't apologize for defending myself against the wave of volunteer mages that so brutally have been attacking my men. While I dislike seeing so many potential resources being reduced to fleshy chunks, I would much rather it be them instead of me. I have no intention of heroically dying for my country. I'm not some idiot who puts that much stake into something as wasteful as selfless sacrifices. Only an idiot would fall for that sort of patriotic nonsense.

And as if reading my mind, the girl seems to be charging directly toward me in some seemingly stupid form of self-sacrifice. If my enemy had that much of a death wish, the least I could do was answer it.

Loading up another explosive formula, I trained my gun on the quickly approaching form of the mage and let loose a burst of fire. Explosions sprang to life from the mad mage, seemingly enclosing the fool in a cloud of smoke. Despite being sure I killed them, I decided to spare a few more bullets. Better to waste ammo than risk dying because you grew complacent. After unloading an entire magazine, I relaxed and surveyed my forces. Aside from Koenig's Company, we hadn't sustained any other casualties. There really was a silver lining to all of this.

Now that the smoke cleared, I could finally check the condition of the volunteer mage below me. They should have been torn to pieces, but I hadn't seen a body fall, so I was curious about what was happening. Loading another magazine into my submachine gun, I cast an optical enhancement spell and studied the mage. The moment my eyes met her form, I felt my jaw drop.

She was still alive, better than just alive, unwounded.

And the worst part was, I saw her mouthing something from a distance. It almost looked like a prayer.

Oh, it was a prayer.

Damn, you Being X!

Sensing danger, I poured mana into my type 95 and sent another message: "All companies, fall back and re-enter the clouds! If you have line of sight, fire on the mage praying!" Might as well ask my men to concentrate fire on the girl.

But, there are more enemy forces below. Despite how much I want to, I can't ask for all of my men to fire on this girl here when reinforcements can come from below like this!

"Grantz, Weiss, take your companies and re-engage the enemies below! Koenig, you're to provide me with supporting fire! Serebryakov, take my company and support me and Koenig!" Quickly barking orders to my Company leaders. I prepared to engage with this enemy mage.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the girl's prayer was finished, and with a speed comparable to mine boosted on my type 95, she flew at me firing her explosive spells. Quickly, I fully activated the type 95 and immediately felt the cursed thing pushing the urge to pray to that disgusting "god" through every fiber of my body. Desperately trying to hold the desire down, I felt my mouth opening on its own and shouting exaltations towards the being who put me into this hell hole.

"May the Lord bless our fatherland on this day, his sword piercing through the unholy and guiding his faithful flock to their righteous victory!"

Feeling my mouth being forced to move against my will is one of the most disgusting things I've ever felt, but it's necessary to contend with this newest attempt on my life!

The defensive shell the type 95 conjured received the full wrath of the girl's incoming volley. Each explosion a step closer to cracking the shield. Remaining in place would kill me, so I immediately began taking evasive maneuvers. Despite the girl's obvious increase in power and magical ability, I could still nimbly evade her gunfire. Koenig's company finally reached a good position to fire on the enemy mage. Even if their shots barely damaged her shell, it's still damage. And enough of it adding up over time will break the spell. I just need to be patient and wear her down.

"You took everything from me! You killed him!" As she spat those words at me, the mage looked like a mad dog.

"I don't even know who you are!" Honestly, how can you just fly up to me and blame me for something I don't know about! "Besides, this is a war! If those mages weren't ready to die, they shouldn't have Volunteered!"

"Don't you dare justify your murder!"

Spare me the moralistic drivel. You're complaining about me killing someone during a war while they were trying to kill me! Now you're flying at me, gun bared, trying to gun down a 9-year-old girl! Can you be any more hypocritical? There's no use trying to argue with someone like her. I'm just gonna do my job, aim my gun, slowly whittle down her shell, and end this stupid situation. If I'm lucky, she'll be a Named and net me a bonus on taking her down.

"Major!" Lieutenant Serebryakov's yell was relayed through my orb.

As Visha's words brought me out of my thoughts about potential promotions, the girl's eyes flared gold again. She closed the distance between me and her instantly. I stabbed my bayonet towards her, but she grappled the gun and started pushing me down towards the clouds below! Her strength was extraordinary. Even with the type 95, I was being pushed back! Just what the hell had Being X done to her? I felt my back impact someone, sending them spiraling away.

After half a minute of getting pushed back, we appeared in the middle of a firefight. The clouds obscured the mages, the only thing visible being the bullets sailing past us. Thinking fast, I entered into a spin and used the mage's momentum to push her off of me. As soon as I regained control of my gun, I rained a hail of explosive formula on top of her and ascended. Her shield fritzed and shimmered but somehow remained intact. Quickly, I found myself in another dogfight with this "divinely" juiced mage.

As I evaded her fire, her misplaced rounds indiscriminately cut through Empire and Unified State soldiers. It looked like she didn't care who she killed as long as I was one of them. Despite my best efforts, my defensive shell was quickly sustaining damage. Suddenly, a bullet shattered my shell and squarely impacted the type 95. Luckily, this cursed computation orb saved me, but I felt relief quickly fall away when I saw the sickly yellow light emitting from its cracked container.

This was not good!

I have been around a malfunctioning type 95, and I am well aware of the damage this thing could cause if it went critical. At best, all the mages around us would be instantly vaporized; at worst, it might damage the ships 6000 meters below us! Alright, I'll just try to use the emergency shutdown protocols of the type 95, all computation orbs have one after all!

Why isn't it working?

The mana's just growing more and more volatile, and the constant gunfire from the enemy mage really isn't helping!

Suddenly, I remembered the day this damn thing started working. Dr. Schugal removed its safety features so I couldn't back out of the test.

This thing is going to go critical, and there isn't a thing I can do about it!

Coming to that horrifying conclusion, I decided that my best course of action would be to take this suicide bomb off my neck, toss it away from allied ships, and hope for the best. Maybe if I chucked it behind enemy waters, I could take some of the Commonwealth's ships down and lessen the blow the loss of the type 95 would cause. Maybe I'll only get court marshaled and not shot for losing such critical equipment!

Apparently, my fumbling with this time bomb on my neck provided my Being X empowered combatant an irresistible opportunity to grapple me again.

We were once again flying through the air. The main difference was instead of holding my gun, she was trying to wring my neck.

This is beyond stupid.

I quickly put mana into my backup type 97 and felt the type 95 heat up even more. The yellow light rapidly bathed me and the suicidal mage in an unbearably bright color.

"You don't remember killing my Father! You don't remember who you stole that submachine gun from!" Again, it isn't my fault that I defended myself from someone trying to kill me.

"He was trying to kill me! And if you don't let me take this orb off, we'll both die!" Talking with her is useless, but maybe if I appeal to her reason, she'll stop long enough for me to get rid of this bomb hanging around my neck!

I was beginning to feel the type 95 burn through my flight uniform and singe my skin. Damn it! This is going to go off any minute now! I'm going to die in this stupid war. I thought Being X wanted me to bow to his majesty and pray to him, not get vaporized above the Commonwealth Channel!

"As long as you die for your crimes, I don't mind dying with you!" Oh no, this is bad. She's suicidal. She's actually planning on making a heroic sacrifice. How irrational can you be? What's the point in killing yourself for something as stupid as revenge! How can you possibly justify that!

"You're insane!"

Once again, we emerged in the middle of the 203rd and the US volunteer forces' skirmish. She's going to get us all killed!

"All soldiers in the theater, this is magic Major Tanya Von Degurachaff of the 203rd battalion of the Empire! There will be a massive theater-wide magic reaction! Flee as far away from my mana signature as you can!" God damn it!

Even if it saves me, I refuse to pray to you, Being X! If you're that invested in this, you'll just have to do all this again! I'll repeatedly beat religion's absurdity into your head, you deranged Devil!

My eyes meet those of Visha, my adjutant. I don't know what comes over me, but I pour as much mana as possible into my type 97. Even if that orb goes critical, it'll barely be a blip compared to the type 95. I channel my strongest defensive shield centered on the 95, putting all of the mana I can into it. It's not enough, but I'll do the most rational thing I can till the end. I'll attempt to save my life in every way I know how, aside from satisfying that bastard looking down on me! Visha says something over the jewel. I hear another voice, but I'm starting to black out due to mana exhaustion.

Suddenly, my vision is filled with a bright light, the intensity of it burning my eyes. The sensation of flesh melting away boils my mind.

Apparently, my shield really didn't do anything to salvage this mess.

A moment after that thought, all of my physical feelings ceased.

The first thing I noticed was that I could still think. My consciousness didn't fade away, which was the oddest part of all this. Rationally thinking, only one being could cause this.

And so I awaited the voice of Being X.

He'll certainly be here if he "governs" the cycle of life and death. Even if he's a terrible worker. I swear, complaining to a potential client about the inner workings of your business is a great way to lose that potential client. Not to mention him saying we signed a contract that we aren't even aware of. The more I think of it, the more his methods remind me of a con man. What makes things worse is how much of a petulant child he is. All of the power it holds, and it can't even act mature.

Slowly, I start to feel a numbness pervading me. Is this a phantom feeling? I have heard a colleague or two discuss the sensations. But from what they've said, they're usually more painful than numb.

The white world that I've been staring at slowly starts to morph. Colors begin to break apart the white. First, it appears to be blobs, but shapes emerge as the colors grow and their borders become more defined. The sounds of odd mumbling start to echo through the colors. It sounds like language, but I don't understand this one. A cold sensation rolls over me; the colors and shapes slowly morph into people, and the voices get louder.

All of my senses feel overwhelmed. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the world, and that's when I realize it: I have eyes. I open them once again and try to take in my limited view.

There's a man with blond hair looking over me; his face seemed well-defined, and he's wearing a goofy look on his face. Next to him stood a woman with a different shade of blond hair; she looked about as old as the man, and her features were smoother. Their looks made them seem like some sort of Europeans.

Was I captured by the volunteer army? They look Germanian, but I can't understand them. And this room looks too rustic to be a hospital or CSH. Maybe the detonation of the type 95 gave me some sort of brain trauma? It would explain why I can't understand what they're saying or why it doesn't sound familiar. I can't even move my body, it's not reacting as I want it to.

And what's with that look on their faces? Why do they look so happy! Why would they have such relaxed and happy expressions if they're looking at a mangled, burnt, and almost vaporized body?

Unless.

No, there was another option.

I felt the gears in my head turning, the conclusion they were pointing to was unimaginable. It wasn't like this last time! Why am I fully aware right now! Did it really happen again…I could feel my little underdeveloped hands curling into fists, feel my face gritting. No, he really is going to keep doing this until I cave...

...

Well, unfortunately for you, I won't cave! I will never accept the existence of an entity like you being god.

Damn,

You,

Being X!

"Gahhh"

So, that's going to be my new little sister, then? I'm surprised Zenith and Paul had another kid so quickly, but they always work hard in their bedroom. I hear them there at it every night. Well, I hope you don't turn out like my last siblings. Beating me up and breaking my computer.

I guess it might have, kinda, been my fault.

Well, I promise to be the best big brother I can be! I promise you that! I was really hoping for a sister! I wonder what she'll be like when she grows up.

"Gahh!" The little baby made a cute little sound before beginning to cry