ALBISH LIGHTNING ASSAULT ON REMULA FAILS !

Yesterday, the headquarters of the Imperial Army's peace-keeping forces in Ildoa were attacked by a task force of aerial mages from the Allied Kingdom, leading to a brutal battle in the district of Remula surrounding the Holy See. Despite being outnumbered due to having to cover the entire Kingdom of Ildoa, our brave soldiers gave a ferocious account of themselves, buying time for the urgent deployment of one of the Wunderwaffen which was first used in the Defense of Kheriaha.

Through the use of that Wunderwaffe, the cowardly raid was defeated, though not without casualties among the aerial mages stationed at Remula, whose heroic sacrifices prevented the battle from spreading to the rest of the Eternal City and cause untold civilian casualties. According to military sources, the goal of this reckless operation was none other than the death of Colonel Eric von Lergen, who led the lightning strike into Ildoa following the Battle of Bovariastadt, and prevented the nefarious schemes of the vile conspiracy which started the so-called Crusade from reaching terrible fruition.

Leading the attack was none other than the Royal Wizard of the Allied Kingdom, a man whose official job requires him to advise the Albish royal family on all magical matters. It is believed by Imperial High Command that he might have acted on his own authority and without the authorization or awareness of the rest of the Albish military, although details are still scarce.

There is little doubt that this attack, which took place mere days before the planned transfer of responsibilities to the Unified States, will impact the tense ongoing diplomatic exchanges between the Empire and the Allied Kingdom. While the Kaiser and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs have repeatedly stated their wish for a peaceful resolution for the conflict between our nations, the multiple provocations of the Allied Kingdom must surely be beginning to fray their patience …

Excerpt from the headlines of the Berun Post, February 10th, 1926.

Colonel Lergen : "Alright. Alright. Let me see if I understand this correctly. Your teacher, the Royal Wizard of the Allied Kingdom, found ONE [emphasis original] mention in some pre-Inquisition text of some kind of evil wizard making monsters during the Dark Ages. From this, the words of a long-dead soldier who clearly had no idea what was going on, he came up with the theory that the Empire might have been infiltrated by some sort of recurring warlock who cracked the secret of immortality through reincarnation thousands of years ago."

Niniane : "That is correct, Colonel. Though I think he only really started believing it after what happened in Kemet, you can see why I had my doubts as to his mental state."

Colonel Lergen : "Mental state ?! Miss Niniane, that old man has clearly gone off the rails. The only question is whether that is simply a result of old age and the pressure of his job, or if there is something more sinister at play. You have been briefed about what happened in the Holy See, right ?"

Niniane : "I was brought up on what your diplomatic corps sent to ours following the end of the Crusade, yes."

Colonel Lergen : "Then you know about Being X and the indoctrination process. To be honest, the sole reason I don't think Merlin was indoctrinated by Being X like Doctor Schugel and Archbishop Beauvais were is that if that were the case, he wouldn't have tried to kill me."

Niniane : "Oh ? And why is that ? While you're clearly not the 'Not-Man', if such a being exists at all, you are obviously of great importance to the operations of Division Y."

Colonel Lergen : "… I'm afraid the answer to that is classified."

Niniane : "Does it have anything to do with the 'Lady of Stars' which appeared in Arene and Bovariastadt ?"

Colonel Lergen : "As I said, classified. In any case, I will need to make certain inquiries on my end, just in case there's something to Merlin's theory and he wasn't just cracking under the pressure. The reports of the Battle of Kheriaha indicate that, at the very least, the Heresiarch served another being before his defeat during the time of Ancient Kemet. If we assume that the resurgence of Mythos magic throughout History is linked with this entity, then we need to make sure the Reich hasn't been compromised. Especially now, with the Federation dabbling in things it has no understanding of."

Niniane : "I can see why you'd think that. And what about me, Colonel ?"

Colonel Lergen : "That is still to be decided, but most likely you will be shipped off to Division Y headquarters with the rest of our mage prisoners. You aren't the first to see reason and surrender instead of pointlessly fighting to the death. Of course, we'll have to set up some sort of special accommodation for you, since you are a woman and, well, some of your compatriots might hold a grudge for your actions."

Niniane : "Thank you. And what about Merlin ?"

Colonel Lergen : "That's more complicated. First, we need to determine whether or not he was indoctrinated. After that, it'll be out of my hands. He is more, let's say, politically troubling to hold prisoner, but we certainly aren't going to send him home until we've a proper peace treaty with the Allied Kingdom."

Extract of the debriefing conducted between Colonel Eric von Lergen and the captive Albish operative, codename 'Niniane', February 10th, 1926.

February 11th, 1926 – Londinium

"It's over, then."

Though it was Kay who spoke the words aloud, the two other remaining members of the Round Table thought the same. The incendiary headlines of the newspapers spread out across the table between them, along with the reports each had compiled from their own sphere of influence and passed along, all told the same, undeniable story.

"The people are furious," said Mordred. "Control of the narrative has slipped from our grasp. They want the war to end, and if it costs us our heads, well, they aren't exactly going to weep for us."

The most incendiary headlines belonged to foreign newspapers, but even the Albish ones were far from kind. With the reputation of the ruling party tanked even further by Merlin's failed attack, those who had always opposed the country joining the war no longer hesitated in making it known. The unity which had formed in the wake of the Kingdom joining the war wasn't completely broken yet, but anyone could see it was inevitable.

"There is no evidence linking me to the attempt," said Kay, "so Churbull hasn't fired me yet … But he's made it clear there won't be anymore such deployment without his express authorization."

"Not that he is likely to stay in power for much longer either," muttered Agravain. "Even though we didn't involve him in the attack, it still doesn't look good for him."

"True," sighed Mordred. "The push for a peace treaty is growing stronger. People are worried that the Empire will finally have enough of our bullshit and send their Wunderwaffen here to teach us a lesson."

"What can we do if that happens ?" asked Agravain.

"Merlin left us enough of his apprentices that we can maintain the Kemetian wards around the capital if the Empire tries to attack, at least," replied Kay. "But on the other hand, that's it : we cannot defend anything else beyond the capital."

Which meant that, if the Empire decided to cripple their industry and military bases using targeted raids with mage-killers and Devils, there'd be nothing they could do to stop them.

"The only thing we can do at this point is make sure that the knowledge of the Kemetian wards isn't lost," said Agravain. "I have been in touch with Merlin's remaining apprentices, and they are working on making as many copies of the spell-work as they can for sending overseas."

"That's a good idea," said Kay. "At the very least, it will ensure there is something to dissuade the Empire from trying to take over the world if there's a change of governance over there."

The simple truth was that they had lost. They had tried one final gambit, to match their most powerful Elder magic asset against the Wunderwaffen, and it had failed. Albion had never been able to fight the Empire in a land war, and its maritime superiority had sunk alongside the Hood. In the long run, if Merlin's apprentices taught every mage in Albion how to cast the Kemetian spells, they might – might – be able to fight Division Y on a somewhat equal footing, but those spells hadn't protected the fleet from the Imperials' Kraken.

The surprise attack on the Rhine, the sinking of the Francois fleet, the calamity in Kemet, and now this raid on Remula – all had dragged Albion's reputation through the mud.

If Lergen was the Not-Man, then he had won this round, and perhaps the entire game along with it. There was nothing more the Allied Kingdom could do to stop him. The Round Table were the only ones with even an inkling that something more sinister was going on behind the Wunderwaffen, and their influence was in tatters. Agravain's spy network had been gutted, and his top operative in the Empire was in the hands of Division Y (and, given they had his birth name, spilling everything he knew). The Empire was stronger than ever, both militarily and diplomatically, while Albion's position hadn't been this weak in decades. Their economy was in a downward spiral that would hit critical mass in a few months at best, their reputation in the crapper, and their colonies were quietly starting to sharpen their knives as whispers of independence spread.

"I suppose that, besides that, all that is left is to pray," said Mordred ruefully. "But to whom, that's the question. I would rather live under the boot of the Empire than be mind-controlled into singing the praises of this 'Being X'."

"We have to believe that, even if there exists such malevolent spirits that disguise themselves as God, He still watches over us," said Kay. "We failed, and will pay the price for it; I accept that. But surely no good and just deity would punish the entire human race for our failings."

Of course, that assumed that there were good and just deities, which a long, hard look at Mankind's various religions made somewhat difficult.

February 17th, 1926 – Mage Prisoners Camp, near Castle Schwartzstein

When William Drake had heard that the captivity of him and his men was going to be handled by Division Y, he hadn't known what to expect, but had feared the worst all the same. But instead of some lightless cell in the depths of an Imperial fortress, he had been brought to a pleasant cottage in the middle of the mountains. Oh, there were guards, of course, but they seemed to be there as much for the prisoners' own protection as to prevent escape.

His escort led him to the entrance, where a tall man wearing the uniform of the Legadonian air mages corps greeted him.

"Hello, friend," the tall man said with a wide smile as he extended his hand. "I'm Colonel Anson Sue, from the Legadonian Entente."

"Colonel William Drake, Albish Air Mage Corps," William replied, shaking the older man's hand. "I've heard about you."

"And I, you. How is your uncle, if you don't mind me asking ?"

"Enjoying his forced retirement as well as he can the last time I saw him."

Anson grimaced. "Yes, I heard about that. Still, he made it out alive, and that's more than can be said for most who faced Division Y, heh ?"

"True," conceded William. His uncle, as well as himself, had been very lucky, even as so many of their men hadn't.

"Come on in," the Legadonian said, leading the way inside. "I'll show you to your room, then give you a tour of the building. Afterwards, I think there's still some leftover pie from my wife in the kitchen if you're interested."

"Your family was brought here along with you ?" William said, frowning.

"Ah, I see what you are thinking," Anson chuckled. "Yes, my wife and daughter were brought here along with me, but no, they aren't here as hostages to ensure my good behavior. They were brought here for their own safety. Being related to the first officer to surrender at the Osfjord came with certain dangers."

"… I am sorry to hear that."

William didn't know for a fact that the partisan uprisings in Legadonia following the Entente's surrender had been fomented by the Albish secret services, but he would have been willing to bet a lot of money on it. For all his patriotism, the aerial mage wasn't blind to his nation's streak of ruthless pragmatism when it came to global politics.

"Don't be," Anson waved him off. "It wasn't your fault. I'm bitterly familiar with soldiers being forced to follow the orders of politicians who don't know what they are doing. Anyway, our families aren't housed in this building but into the village nearby, among the civilians."

The room assigned to William looked comfortable enough, and as they moved toward the mess area Anson went on to describe the rules by which the war prisoners were expected to behave :

"There is a roll call every day at dawn and dusk," explained Anson. "We were told that, if anyone is missing, the mage-killers will be dispatched to find them. No one has been stupid enough to try, and I would appreciate it if you made sure that continues."

William supposed it made sense. While he couldn't have placed their location on a map, he was fairly certain they were deep in Imperial territory. Even if they managed to slip past the guards, where were they supposed to go next ? Division Y would pick up on any use of magic, and without a computation orb, the chances of any aerial mage of escaping, already slim, were all but zero.

"Meals are at seven in the morning, noon and seven in the afternoon," the Legadonian continued. "We get international newspapers delivered each week on Wednesday, and you can request a particular newspaper if you want. We can send letters out, but they are read beforehand to ensure nobody gives out important information, whether by accident or deliberately. Now, you may have been trained into writing coded messages into innocent-seeming letters, but if so, then I really advise you not to try that here. I've heard that the Imperials have, shall we say, unique methods of checking outgoing letters."

That in itself was important information, thought William. But after what he'd seen in Remula, he wasn't going to test it.

"We can also receive letters from the outside world, so long as they are addressed to the War Ministry in Berun – you can ask the guards for the details, I haven't needed to use that service so I don't know exactly how it works. Of course, such letters are also opened and read before being sent here."

"Of course," William repeated with a small smile.

"Apart from that, we've set up a schedule for daily exercise and other activities to keep busy," concluded Anson. "All in all, I'd say all of us here were very lucky."

Try as he might, William couldn't find it in him to disagree.

February 26th, 1926 – Castle Schwartzstein

The girl was playing with the other children in the courtyard, running and jumping and singing songs whose words she only half understood. She was different from all the others : they had beautiful skin the color of the night sky, and eyes red like rubies, while her skin was pale like milk, her hair blond, and her eyes blue.

When she'd seen them for the first time, clinging to Tanya's side, one of them had run to see her, glancing shyly at Tanya.

"Hi !" he had greeted her in the Imperial tongue, which she knew even if she didn't remember learning it. "I'm Vreta. What's your name ?"

She'd told him she didn't have a name anymore, because a monster had eaten it when trying to eat her. Vreta had nodded, as if that made perfect sense.

"Well, you need a new one then," he had said. "How about Kory ? It was my mom's name, but … she doesn't need it anymore." For a moment, his smile had wavered, before returning in full. "Do you want it ?"

"Yes," she had replied.

After that, they had spent the rest of the day playing together, with Vreta telling her the names of all his friends and explaining their games to her. When the sun had set and it was time for dinner, she had run to Tanya and told her about her new name, and Tanya had smiled and patted her head and told her she was happy for her.

From that day on, everyone had called her Kory. She'd spent more and more time away from Tanya and with the other children during the day, before one evening, she'd timidly asked if she could stay with them during the night instead of sleeping next to Tanya.

Tanya had said yes, but had also promised Kory that she could change her mind whenever she wanted.

The kids all slept together in one big room, with two adults looking over them. Sometimes Kory had nightmares and woke up screaming, afraid that the burning light had come back to take her new name like it had taken the old one. When that happened, she woke up with Vreta and the others holding her tight, whispering soothing words and telling her that she was safe, that Tanya was here and wouldn't let anything hurt them.

The other kids had nightmares too, but they didn't scream when they woke up. She had asked Tanya why, and she had looked sad and told her that was because before living in the castle, they had lived in a bad place with monsters who would have hurt them if they made noise. Kory didn't understand, but she made sure to hug those who had bad dreams when they happened, just like they did for her.

The children paused their latest game of tag as they noticed someone new entering the courtyard, and rushed to greet her.

"Hello, Miss Elya !" they all called out together.

"Hello, everyone," said the woman with a smile. "How are you doing today ?"

Miss Elya was in a weird chair with wheels, because she had gotten hurt and needed to heal to get her strength back. Kory had been with Tanya when the bad people had come into the castle (that had been before she was brave enough to sleep with the other children), and the noise had scared her, but Tanya had hugged her and promised her that she was safe and no monster would touch her ever again.

And that had been true, because Tanya and everyone else in the castle were very strong, and they would beat every monster that tried to hurt them.

Everyone started talking excitedly at once, telling the Imperial woman about everything that had happened since they'd last seen her. They told her about the food they'd eaten, about the games they'd played, about the stories their caretakers had been told and the lessons they'd had. And Miss Elya listened with a smile on her face, patiently waiting for the Nazzadi to find the proper way to tell her what they wanted to say in Imperial.

Kory liked Miss Elya. She liked everyone in the castle, even if she learned Tanya the best.

"Easy there, soldier. You are safe here, I promise."

"W-where … ?"

"You are in Castle Schwartzstein, the headquarters of Division Y. Do you remember what Division Y is ?"

"The … the Wunderwaffen. You make them."

"Yes, we do. Now, can you tell me your name, soldier ?"

"I am … I am Lieutenant Theobald Wüstemann."

"That's right, Lieutenant. What's the last thing you remember ?"

"We were deployed in Remula, he began hesitantly. The Albish … the Albish launched an attack on our headquarters there. My unit engaged them at Colonel Lergen's orders. We had the advantage in technology and experience, but there were too many of them. We … I … fell ?"

"You did. You and your unit fought to the last, and it was thanks to you that the Reich won the day in the end. You fell as heroes of the Empire, and have all been recognized as such."

"That's … great. … I am thirsty. Can I have some water, please ?"

"You can have something to drink, but I am afraid water is discouraged given your condition. Here. Drink this, slowly."

"It's delicious. What is that ?"

"Blood. Mage blood, to be precise."

"Oh. … So the rumors were true, then."

"Rumors ? Hmm. I suppose it was inevitable that word would spread. But let me explain to you what actually happened. Though you died in Remula, your body was in good enough condition that it was sent here, the headquarters of Division Y. We performed a certain magical ritual upon it, bringing you back to life as an Untote, a member of Projekt U – although I'm told they are called mage-killers or hunters by those outside the Division."

"I am … a vampire ?"

"That is a good enough explanation, though we don't call you that for secrecy reasons, as well as to prevent mistakes based on false assumptions. The first thing you should know is that yes, sunlight will kill you. That's why the Untoten are always wearing full-body uniforms when deployed. Secondly, you require mage blood to survive and use your new abilities, which replace the magic you were capable of before. We will ensure you receive enough blood to satiate your hunger. Should you ever attack another Imperial mage, however, you will be put down."

"Has that … ever happened ?"

"Yes, back when the Projekt started. It hasn't happened since the Division was formally revealed as part of the Reich's warmachine against Dacia, though, and I fully intend for that to continue."

"… good."

"Your pay will be increased to match your value to the Reich, and your family informed that you survived and were transferred to a top-secret Imperial unit. Speaking strictly from a legal standpoint, you belong to the Empire as a military asset. However, I don't believe in forcing people to work, let alone fight, if they don't want to. And while what we did to your corpse was legal, it was also done without your consent – we can't risk word of how the Untoten are created spreading, you understand. If you truly believe that you cannot continue as you are now, then all you need to do is walk out into the sun, or ask us for assistance in terminating your existence. Should you choose to end your existence now, you will be recorded as having perished a valiant death in Remula, and your family will be compensated accordingly."

"You have terrible bedsides manners. Ma'am. If, if you don't mind me saying."

"I'm aware. But I take my responsibilities seriously, which means I have to be the one doing this. Due to my own unique condition, I apparently have a calming effect on supersoldiers. Besides, I'm the one in charge, so it's only right."

"I see. Still, that's a heavy decision to make. Can I speak with someone else who went through this ?"

"Of course. My aide will answer all your questions : she was one of the first successes of the Projekt."

Extract from the recorded conversation between Director Degurechaff and Lieutenant Theobald Wüstemann following the latter's integration into Projekt U, March 2nd, 1926.

March 8th, 1926 – Berun, Imperial Capital

Maximilian Johann von Uger stood in front of the door to his home, one hand holding a bouquet of flowers, the other pressing the doorbell, and forced himself to remain calm despite the maelstrom of emotions raging within him.

When the announcement had come that the Werwölfe were authorized for leave, he had been overjoyed. He hadn't been able to see his wife and daughter since his injuries on the Rhine Front, and while being able to exchange letters with his wife was a blessing, it didn't compare to seeing them with his own eyes.

His smile widened fractionally as he remembered the presentation they had all sat through before being allowed to go on leave. The Director had looked more uncomfortable than he'd ever seen her, standing here while Doctor Iosefka explained to the gathered Werwölfe why, no matter what, they couldn't have sex while on leave. It didn't matter if it was with their wife, their fiancee, their girlfriend, or a random hook-up : no one had any idea what the union of a human and a Werwolf would look like, and they weren't going to risk it happening in the wild.

And no, the usual precautions wouldn't be enough, because nobody knew how much that aspect of Werwolf physiology had changed (and they weren't going to test it in Castle Schwartzstein, thank God). From what Maximilian had heard, the female Werwölfe (of which there were far fewer of than males) had been told the exact same thing earlier, in a separate presentation.

Admittedly, it had been something of a dampener on his good mood, but carnal activities were far from being the most important part of his relationship with his wife. And while he'd refrained from it, the rest of the Werwölfe had been merciless in their teasing of Grantz for his relationship with the daughter of Colonel Sue. Grantz had been careful to conceal it from his brethren, but the story of how she'd run to hug him when they'd come back from Remula had been impossible to suppress.

Given Grantz's character, how insistent Doctor Iosefka's lesson had been, and the fact young Mary's father was the single most powerful combat mage of the Legadonian Entente by virtue of surviving the longest, Maximilian was fairly certain there was nothing to worry about on that front.

The door opened, pulling him out of his recollection. And there she was, exactly as beautiful as he remembered her.

"… Maximilian ?"

"Hello, Isabella," he said with a smile, surprised to hear the crack in his voice. "Sorry I didn't come earlier –"

His apology was cut off as Isabella threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his back as she hugged him, shaking, tears running down her face. Maximilian hugged her back, feeling his own tears run freely while the bouquet slipped from his hand and landed on the ground, forgotten.

He'd been so afraid this would never come to pass, and if not for Division Y's work, it never would have. But at long, long last, he was home.

God be praised, he was home.

March 10th, 1926 – Berun, Imperial Capital

Nala walked through the corridors of Castle Schwartzstein in her human shape, wearing the uniform of an Imperial soldier with the emblem of Division Y on her left shoulder and the grey wings of the Lunarchs on the right. Despite the late hour, there were still other people moving purposefully throughout the fortress, and she nodded in greetings to each of them, paying no mind to the looks most of them couldn't help themselves but give her. Even in such a place, full of wonders and horrors, she drew attention.

It had been a relief to find out that her human form had been mostly unchanged by her transformation from Eikon to Lunarch. Outside of her blackened armor, she appeared like an idealized version of her former self, slightly larger and more muscular, with all the minor imperfections smoothed off. Her eyes, however, betrayed her inhuman nature, as they now shone with the same silver radiance that blazed from her wings when she assumed her Lunarch form.

The folks of Division Y were treating her and the others well, though she could have done without the curious researchers asking for biological samples. She had submitted to all the proper examinations, of course : the mere thought that whatever the Lady of Stars had done to her might be temporary, that she might be at risk of returning to that state of mindless, fanatical devotion, had been utterly terrifying.

Outside of the regular exams, the Lunarchs were being trained by the aerial mages of Division Y, with the Untoten and sometimes the Director herself joining them. Back in the Holy See, their training had been minimal : the Congregation had kept them all hidden underground, and even the largest caverns hadn't been enough to properly practice flying. The combat instincts they'd gained by being turned into Eikons had remained after their becoming Lunarchs, along with all their other abilities except for the indoctrination field, but it was far from enough in the Director's eyes.

After only two months of that training, Nala could well understand how the Imperial supersoldiers had been able to win such crushing victories. Yet gruelling as it was, the training was strangely satisfying at the same time. It had taken Nala a few weeks to realize why : unlike her Eikon powers, the skills she was learning were something she was gaining on her own, not something which was put into her mind without her realizing or consenting to it. As she and the other Lunarchs were finding out, self-improvement was a great way to deal with the trauma of being turned into a living, enslaved weapon of magical destruction – or maybe it was the regular mandatory sessions discussing what had happened to them with the 'mind-doctors' the Director had recruited.

Or maybe it was the group discussions with the other members of the Path of Stars.

At least in Castle Schwartzstein, the Path of Stars wasn't a religion. It was a philosophy, born of Imperial rationalism, the occult notions in which Division Y dabbled, and a pinch of the Director's own occasional musings on duty and morality. It wasn't a cult, and they didn't worship the Director – the researcher who had introduced her to it had been very insistent on the later. During meetings, they talked about what had happened at work (and given where they all worked, there were always interesting stories to tell), and discussed matters that straggled the line between theology and … whatever the name for the study of eldritch forces was (mythology ? that didn't sound right). Most of these talks flew right over Nala's head, but she was still frequently asked questions, due to her unique perspective.

The Lunarchs had been asked if they wanted to send anything to back to their families on the Southern Continent. With the Great War slowly petering out, sending letters by boat was possible, although any letters would be proof-read to ensure they didn't accidentally reveal classified information. Nala had sent one, telling her family that she was still alive, and that a lot of things had happened she couldn't talk about. The additional supplies the Church had promised in exchange for their service had obviously stopped now that the Holy See was a haunted crater, but now that the Lunarchs had been recruited into Division Y, a part of their pay was being used to replace that (and, given that their pay was based on that of Imperial aerial mages, it was quite substantial).

It wasn't a bad life. Certainly better than the mind-slavery she'd known before. Still, it wasn't one without stresses either, which was why she was going to the room which had been converted into Castle Schwartzstein's chapel. The room was one of the most heavily warded in the entire castle, to make sure that nothing got into the minds of those inside.

Nala wasn't going there to pray : after what had happened to her, it would be a long time before she did that again, if ever. The occultists who had debriefed her had explained by Being X, the entity responsible for the Holy See's madness, was only masquerading as God, but the shock to her faith had still been severe.

Instead, she was here to sit down, close her eyes, and meditate. To center herself and find peace and acceptance with all that had been done to her.

There was already someone in the chapel when she entered. That wasn't surprising : the denizens of Castle Schwartzstein kept all sorts of hours, and the kind of jobs they had meant that there was almost always somebody in here looking for spiritual comfort.

Nala recognized the young Nazzadi woman. She was Zerayah, one of the newly trained aerial mages who had participated in the Battle of Bovariastadt, and the one who had confronted Adelheid von Schugel, the Imperial renegade whose work had made Nala and the other second-generation Eikons so much more dangerous to Humanity. Unlike Nala, Zerayah was here to pray, sitting down in front of several dozen candles – one for every Nazzadi she remembered who'd died before the Director had come to save her people from their doomed homeworld.

For the next few hours, the two of them sat together in companionable silence, thinking of past harms, present blessings, and future triumphs.

March 17th, 1926 – Parisee – Police Headquarters

Officer Sophie Jarnac, of the Parisean Police, sighed with relief as she stepped out of the early spring rains which were falling all over the capital and into her appartment building. It had been another long day at work, despite the mood in Parisee growing ever more optimistic since the end of the Republic's part in the Great War.

There weren't many women in the police force, though that number had been steadily rising since the War had started due to the men being conscripted, sent to the Rhine, and not coming back in far too many cases. That violent demographic shift had resulted in increased pressure to give women the right to vote. As someone charged with enforcing the law, Sophie had to admit that it annoyed her to no end that she'd no say in what those laws even were, but she still did her duty.

She had first been recruited by the Parisean Police to work in administration (there was a lot of paperwork involved with keeping the peace in the Francois capital), but had been promoted due to the loss of manpower forcing her superiors to widen their recruitment pool. Supposedly, it was meant as a temporary measure, but it hadn't been repelled yet.

Of course, just because women were gaining ground in the workforce didn't mean attitudes had adjusted to follow suit. The top of the hierarchy was still comprised entirely of men who hadn't been conscripted for one reason or another (mostly because they'd been too old), and they were reacting to the changes with predictable but annoying grumblings which crossed the line into infuriating far too often.

Which was why she was looking forward to going to bed and spending her rest day relaxing in peace. She checked her mailbox : bill, bill, an advert for the opera house in the neighbourhood which had re-opened now that the war censorship laws had been repelled, and an envelope with her name and address written in a crisp, familiar handwriting, with an Imperial stamp.

With a smile, Sophie pocketed the latest letter from Lieutenant Willibald König. It was always a pleasure to hear from him : in the little time they'd spent working together, the Lieutenant had not once looked down on her for being a member of the fairer sex. Him and the other members of the Imperial Army with whom she had journeyed into the Parisean Catacombs had never been anything less than perfectly professional, and from what König had let slip his direct superior was also a woman.

Sophie had been worried König might've gotten caught in that mess in Ildoa, so she was relieved to hear from him. She doubted the letter would contain many details – König was too professional for that – but it was still better than nothing.

Hmm. Come to think of it, she had been steadily accumulating leave days in the last months. Maybe she could make a trip to the Empire once the current situation with Albion had calmed down ?

April 1st, 1926 – Castle Schwartzstein

"Here is your coffee, ma'am," said Visha as she placed a cup of fragrant liquid on my desk.

Now that the sun had set, Visha was up and about. Her becoming nocturnal as a result of her second dose of Endlose Nacht had made her duties as my adjutant somewhat difficult to perform, but she had looked on the verge of tears when I had tried to tell her that, so I had given up on replacing her (not that it had been that hard of a decision, really : for one thing, I would have missed her coffee too much). Instead, I had adapted my own schedule.

After all, I required very little sleep these days. I would have been worried about how that might stunt my growth, but, well. Somehow I doubted that was going to be much of an issue. At least that meant I could indulge in my adjutant's delicious coffee without worrying about it impacting my growth.

"Thank you, Visha," I replied while breathing in the brew's delicious scent. "How are Wüstemann and the others adjusting ?"

"They're doing much better now," she replied without hesitation. "I think they're ready to start their training regimen in full, instead of the watered-down version we've had them on until now."

"Good. We'll start on tomorrow night, then. Make a note in my schedule, please."

"Of course, ma'am."

The next couple of hours were spent in companionable silence as the two of us worked through the endless paperwork that an organization the size of Division Y inevitably produced. Though it might surprise the common Imperial citizen, even an organization tasked with delving into the darkest depths of magic and weaponizing them for the benefit of the Reich needed to handle paperwork, and given how potentially catastrophic the consequences of a single mistake in our work could be, I had made damn sure everyone in Castle Schwartzstein knew the importance of proper filing, documentation and reporting.

One set of reports concerned the situation in Bovariastadt. The testing of the population for Mythos influence was still on-going – there had been a lot of people in the city when it had been captured by the Ildoan Army – but advancing on schedule and, more importantly, nothing had been detected so far. The hole in the sky leading to a perpetual night sky was still there and showing no sign of going away, but it wasn't growing either. There were talks of abandoning the city and converting it into an observation outpost, or a secondary location for Division Y's activities – one which would be publicly known, unlike Castle Schwartzstein. I told Visha to make a note to contact Generals Zettour and Rudersdorf to talk about it.

Tonight, the last set of paperwork I needed to go through regarded the latest additions to the ranks of Projekt W. We had lost twenty-five Werwölfe during this whole mess with Ildoa : ten at Bovariastadt, and another fifteen at the Holy See, but with the situation in the south handled, we'd been able to start performing the Rite of Transfiguration again, with the latest full moon having finished the previous night.

Our attempts to improve the ritual's survivability had worked. Where before only a third of the subjects had survived before, now we were around a fifty/fifty survival rate. Of course, we weren't sure whether that was due to our occultists becoming more experienced, our preparations actually working, or just the fact that with the Great War having calmed down the subjects we were getting had already survived months of being crippled before being shipped off to Castle Schwartzstein.

In total, the three moon cycles had resulted in eighty-one Phantoms, ninety-one Mirages, nine Echoes, nine Shadows, twelve Spectres, eight Whispers, three Nightmare, and more Efreet. In addition, one more new type of Werwolf had been discovered, with a single instance manifesting during February's full moon, which, after several days of debate among the occultists assigned to Projekt W, had eventually been named the Vampire-type. By that point, I'd been too annoyed with the whole thing to care about the overlap with Projekt U, and besides, I could see where they were coming from.

Like the Whisper, the Vampire was capable of flight, but there the similarities between the two types ended. The Whisper's capabilities were tailored for reconnaissance, while the Vampire was an aerial equivalent to the Nightmare when it came to sheer destructive potential.

Where the Whisper had insectoid-looking wings, the Vampire's were similar to a bat's, and its regeneration rate was incredible. Tests on livestock had shown that he could cause blood to boil with a touch, to predictable devastating effects, and he could fire hand-long, thorned barbs with enough strength to pierce through body armor and flesh alike. Finally, like all Werwölfe, he possessed an 'ultimate attack', which in his case took the form of a sphere of crimson energy which caused all living things caught within its area of effect to violently bleed from every orifice, regardless of what obstacles and defenses may be in the way.

There also seemed to be some worrying mental effects, but the discipline of the Imperial Army combined with my presence had ensured the Vampire wouldn't lose himself to the instincts of his inhuman self. And a dedicated anti-infantry, flight-capable Werwolf type would likely be very useful in the times to come.

When I had read Colonel Lergen's report, I had wanted to laugh at the stupidity of the Albish. But unfortunately, considering unlikely, far-fetched scenarios with potentially apocalyptic consequences was my job, and what should have been easily dismissed as the ramblings of an old man refusing to accept that his country's supremacy was over sounded disturbingly plausible given the sort of work Division Y performed on the regular.

My first thought had been that each instance of the Not-Man had been another poor bastard being used by Being X in order to drum up support for the religions worshipping him, all to soothe his ego. But that didn't make sense, because why would the priests of the two eras go to such lengths to erase all traces that the conflict had ever happened ? There should be monuments, myths and legends commemorating the heroism of the Lord's chosen who had triumphed over the slaves of Hell.

So instead, I had considered what I knew from the perspective I'd brought with me from my previous world. Once you stopped looking at Being X from the perspective of religion and instead from the cold, eldritch rationale of the Mythos, this looked a lot like some sort of long struggle/game between two powerful entities, with the people of this world caught in-between. Loath as I was to give Being X any credit whatsoever, he would probably be the lighter shade of black in such a conflict : for all that the Eikons used mind-control, they didn't eat people and had only appeared in response to Division Y's own Mythos creations.

If that theory was correct, then the best case scenario was that due to the unique circumstances of my reincarnation, I had somehow messed up this antediluvian competition and created a third side, so to speak. Unfortunately, I couldn't disregard the possibility that Division Y and myself were being used as pawns by this 'Being N', just like the Albish feared. I had taken all precautions I could think of to prevent the Division from being subverted, and I was as certain as could be that there wasn't some subtle mind-control at work, but that didn't mean we were immune to other avenues of manipulation.

I could feel the siren call of paranoia, and wondered whether this wasn't all part of Being X's plan to make me doubt myself and paralyse me with indecision. In the end, however, I didn't have much of a choice. With the Congregation of Michael wiped out and the threat of the Eikons removed, the Reich should have been in a military position secure enough to force a gentle peace and scale back the efforts of Division Y. But now that the communists had access to some of the most dangerous lore we'd created, doing so would be suicidal. We could only guess as to what horrors would spawn in Russy as a result of the Federation's ignorant experimentation : even the knowledge of my former self drew a blank on how bad 'powerful, amoral country with a cavalier attitude to human loss attempting to weaponize the Mythos in a hurry' could be. Well, except 'very bad', obviously.

We had made some theories for a worst-case scenario based on what had almost happened in the Holy See, however. Which was why, once I was done with my paperwork, I left my office and went down several levels, going through the multiple security checks guarding the way to the heart of Division Y, a place so well-defended it made the Kaiser's private chambers look like a public park. Even Visha had to stay behind at some point : while I trusted her, she was still only a Lieutenant, and if I wanted my subordinates to follow regulations then I had to do the same.

Alone within the most secure room in the Reich, I entered a twenty-digit access code known only to myself, and pulled the activation lever. I felt, with a sharpness that had increased with every use of Kosmosblut, how reality itself strained as the Denkmaschine awoke from its slumber. Thinking of the power bill for this room alone made me want to cry. There were multiple generators across the castle whose sole purpose was to provide current to the Denkmaschine, each one a cutting-edge model that greedily drank enough fuel to feed a tank in an active war zone.

The rows of custom-made computation orbs lit up as the Denkmaschine turned on. Every spell formula known to the Empire, from the most useless cantrip to attack spells which had never been actually cast due to requiring more mana than a hundred aerial mages combined possessed, had been loaded onto these orbs before we'd first activated it years ago, and every Mythos spell discovered since as well.

My understanding of the differences between sentience, sapience and sophonce were vague at best, but I was reasonably confident the Denkmaschine wasn't any of those, despite what its name might imply. The hardware it used might be unconventional, but it was not that different from the supercomputers of my old world. And sure, there had always been wild speculation about Artificial Intelligences taking over the world, wiping out Humanity, or both, but by the time of my death such fears had still been very unfounded. No, if the Denkmaschine brought about the end of the world, it would be because of how we flesh-and-blood mortals used it and nothing else.

There were two different ways to interact with the Denkmaschine. The first was to load up another file inside it, using large and clumsy data storages that were a hundred times less weight-efficient than basic paper. That method was how we had loaded the scraps of recovered lore into the engine before asking it to 'reconstruct' the original. The second method, and the one I was going to use now, was a simple keyboard which could be used to 'ask' questions to the Denkmaschine, which it would then attempt to answer using the full breadth of arcane knowledge at its disposition. Given that, again, the Denkmaschine wasn't sentient, it often took multiple tries to get an answer, re-phrasing the question again and again.

My fingers hovered above the keys for a moment as, despite myself, I hesitated. Was this really the correct course of action ? Would it help save the world, or only make things worse in the long term ? For all my pretence of rationality, had I succumbed to the sunk cost fallacy, and kept doubling down on Mythos warfare as the answer to all my problems ?

I sighed, and reminded myself that what I was going to do was hardly irreversible. The vaults of the castle were full of the Wunderwaffen the Denkmaschine had suggested and which would never be used. In all likelihood, this was merely going to be another one of those, but the threat of the Federation was such that it was better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

Pushing my doubts and fears aside, I typed the first iteration of the question I had come to ask :

'How do I kill a god ?'

AN :

Me : "Somehow, this crossover between a brutal deconstruction of the Isekai genre and the horrors of the Cthulhu Mythos ended up containing the most wholesome piece of fiction I have ever written. How appropriate for a Christmas update."

Tanya : "Hey, Eldritch ChatGPT, how do I commit deicide ?"

... damnit, Tanya.

It's been exactly one year since the publication of this story's first chapter. Happy Holidays, everyone ! My plan to finish this story in 2023 have, obviously, been discarded, but I still plan to finish AYGWM some time next year. I have a blueprint for the rest of the story, but you all know how capricious the Muse can be by now, so I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up either completely discarded or with significant additions.

Fans of CthulhuTech might recognize Vreta's name. The fact that the poor boy genuinely has a batter life than his counterpart says something - I am not sure what exactly, but definitely something. And Kory's name isn't a reference to anything except the fact that it is listed among the suggested female Nazzadi names for player characters.

Tanya finally rolled a Vampire ! After so many rolls, she finally got every Tager type in the ranks of Projekt W. Now, the question is whether any of them will achieve Metamorphosis and become even more powerful and terrible.

Also, yes, there were women in the French Police Force before women were allowed to vote. I swear, everytime I think I can't possibly get more disappointed by The Past, I learn something else to shake my head at in astonishment.

Next chapter, we will see what is going on in the Russy Federation. Spoiler alert : what I have planned will make the Scourge of Yharnam look like a common cold. According to my notes, the next arc is the penultimate arc of this story, so it's time to remove the final brakes on the escalation train and embrace the madness.

As always, I look forward to your thoughts, comments and ideas. Until then, I wish you all a happy end of the year.

Zahariel out.