Rondo Blaze: Sonata to Memento Mori

Chapter 3: An Arzenal Initiation

"The reason we exist is to be weapons. We fight foes the humans cannot, DRAGONs. Only in battle can we Norma find a purpose in this world." Words that every Norma on Arzenal knew and oft had repeated to them. The vast majority of Norma in the world were brought to Arzenal at very young ages, typically from infancy but some slipped through the cracks and went a few years living under the impression they were no different than anybody else until either a mandatory check or slip up on the part of their parents caught up to them.

As such Norma were also typically educated from a young age, usually starting at six years old and continuing until they were twelve, which they officially came of age and started further training into actual practical application of the lessons taught to them at those younger ages. And the official initiation for new pilots was such: Their first session in the Para-mail simulators.

Being as the machines were directly made out of the cockpit blocks of Para-mails that had been wrecked beyond repair or simply become too old to continue service, everything the young pilots would need to get used to was conveniently there for them to get a handle on. The simulators were also modified to simulate actual flight experience to get one accustomed to the sensation of flying one of the machines before their first combat deployment.

It was in one of these simulators the much older than typical Ange was looking utterly dumbfounded in as she looked around the console in front of her. The seat was somewhat leaned back, and at the least it was mildly comfortable to sit in, though she found the harness a bit tight. The console itself was split in two, upper and lower. Ange could tell a targeting device when she saw one, though the current dark panels both near the targeting panel and by the central console had uses she didn't know much for. The controls themselves consisted of a pair of common flight handles, though for the girl raised in the Mana society where vehicles were controlled through simple devices that funnel mana through them, actually having things she had to grab and adjust her fingers around felt incredibly foreign to her.

Not that she had ever used such things before. As a princess it had never been something she'd needed to, as there was always others to do it… but maybe that should have been the first hint to her about what was actually going on.

"… move the left controller forward to use your main throttle and accelerate, pull back to brake and slow down. Use the pedals to adjust your pitch and roll. Your indicators for altitude, speed, pitch, and the radar are on the center console here, along with your switches for the arresting gear and drive activation. These dark panels here on the side are for communication visuals with your wingmates. That's all you need to know for now." Salia stepped back from the opened door of the simulator as she finished her explanation of the controls. Alain was tapping away on the device's outer panel to set up the simulated mission. Ange just looked confused.

"What is this thing?" An inevitable question of course. Salia scoffed a bit as she put her hand on the door.

"A Para-mail simulator."

"Para-mail?"

"Coffins for us Norma." Salia shut the door with that remark, Alain humming as the image on the screen changed to an inside view of Ange at an angle. "I don't expect you to be able to do this on your first try. First, you need to get a good feel for flying. We'll start teaching you about combat maneuvers and weaponry once you're at least passable in that regard."

"Just so ya' know, the average human can only handle a G-load of around five, and even then, you might pass out. Our best pilots can handle a good nine or ten without issue. Para-mails have enough thrust to pull way more than that in tight turns, but even with their dampening features you'll still be feeling about close to six or seven Gs. Good luck newbie." Alain seemed almost thrilled at the prospect in front of him as the others got underway with setting Coco and Miranda off on their own flights. Salia couldn't help but sigh a bit at the devious smirk on his face.

"Just what do you expect me to do?" Ange asked.

"Not crash, for the most part." Alain said, Salia whacking him on the arm.

"Ange, confirmed. Mission 07, start." Not even giving a clear answer, Salia elected to launch Ange with an override command. And the second she did, the girl's terrified screaming as she suddenly felt the force of the rapid launch from the catapults Para-mails launched off of hit her. Salia didn't look impressed at all as Ange yelled in terror about what was going on, and Alain was hunched over while biting his lip in a vain attempt not to laugh out loud. "Don't let go of the controls. Even if you're strapped in, if you're not set right you'll only make things worse for yourself. Climb."

"How much should we bet she does crash?" Alain said, tugging at his scarf as he watched Ange desperately grab back onto her controls as the simulated machine shot upwards in an admittedly shallow climb, but for a newbie to flying it certainly felt worse. Salia kept calling out simple maneuvers, and Ange was visibly struggling under the forces she was feeling thanks to the simulator, grating her teeth and trying to fight back as her body kept shifting with each movement being made. "Open your eyes Ange. An actual battle is way worse than this. If you're not alert at all times, you're as good as dead."

"EASY FOR YOU TO SAY!"

"At least she's got guts." Salia's remarked also came with that usual snicker from Alain. Ange actually got into a set position, looking forward even as she kept grinding her teeth. One had to worry she'd crack one or two with how hard her jaw was clenched at the moment. "Onto nosedive training. Try not to crash here alright? Lots of newbies do."

Ange yelped again as the simulated craft suddenly angled downwards, and now the ground was rapidly rushing towards her as the craft rocketed downwards.

"Pull your nose up already! You'll crash if you wait too long." Salia barked, Alain humming. He'd caught Ange looking like she was onto something… but his hopes weren't incredibly high for her. Salia was about to press the button to cancel the sim out, though Ange yelled as she started pulling on her controls to fly back up.

Only to find she'd done so too late and go crashing right into the ground. Salia and Alain winced as the simulator blared while Ange was jolted around the cockpit. Once it finally went dark, the two threw open the door, and Ange was very quick to free herself of the seat and stumble out onto the floor, breathing heavily and looking ready to throw her guts out all over the floor.

"Should've pulled up when I told you." Salia muttered. "Para-mail weigh several tons. You can't pull one out of a dive that shallow and expect to cleanly make it back up. You're lucky this was just a simulator, don't try a move like that in the real thing."

"W-What-URF!" Ange put a hand to her mouth as her cheeks bulged, and Alain kicked a bucket over that was set by specifically for a situation like this. Ange promptly grabbed it and emptied whatever contents her stomach actually had into it. All in all, this much was about as expected from things. "W-what is all of this anyway?"

"Welcome to the typical life of an Arzenal pilot. We still got more in store, so buckle up. At least your stomach is empty now." Alain said, Ange looking at him with a worried expression. "We've still got a few more lessons to go today."

"You're kidding me…"

"Nope." Salia said, tapping the simulator. "Mount up."

Ange just groaned in distress at the idea of having to go through this again. And again she would, because there wasn't much of a choice there.


And some time after the simulator training, once the three newbies had been able to settle down from the training and actually not be a bunch of disoriented messes, everyone was seated at the large screen at the other end of the room. Zola was standing, and with a quick tap of her hand, the screen turned on and started displaying various things as she swiped around on it.

"Alright you three, time for the rundown of what they didn't tell you in those classes now that we know where you all stand as pilots." Zola said, looking among the three new additions. Coco and Miranda rated average, not terrible but they'd had a fair few crashes. Ange on the other hand, had displayed a natural talent that only had to be refined to actually give her skills while flying. Her initial crash had been her only one, not that she hadn't had some close shaves. But that was a concern for later. Zola had other things to tell them about. "Also the rest of you girls, take this as a refresher course. Now, as all of you know, the duty of us Norma is to fight DRAGONs, who appear here in our world through holes they open up between ours and theirs."

Another tap on the screen, and Zola pulled up various images of different DRAGON classes. The small and numerous Schooner class, the large classes like Brigs and Galleons, and the incredibly fast, medium sized Sloops as the main examples.

"These nasty babies here. These are what we kill whenever we get to fly out. The average incursion can include dozens of Schooners, and usually one of the big boys here. And if you get really lucky, you'll run into an entirely new type as well. But that's for later. All you need to know for now, is that when you see one of these, kill it in whatever way you can." Zola then chuckled, folding her arms. "And if you wanna earn your rep around here, you're going to want to kill a lot of them and actually make it out alive. Lucky for you girls you're in Garm. We get sent out a lot, so you'll have plenty of chances to earn your wings. Anyone of you three wanna guess what some of our traditions are?"

Zola got relatively confused silence. Ange of course had no clue on earth or hell what she was going on about that, while Coco and Miranda were visibly mulling over it.

"Well… I know other people say when you're in Garm you… oh yeah, the saying was "You dive into hell and climb out a bitch of war." I think." Miranda answered first, and while nobody else reacted, Ange looked subtly horrified such a young girl so casually said that particular word like it wasn't a big deal.

"Ahaha! Well you're not wrong Miranda, but that's not quite what I was talking about. It's more along these lines…" Zola then got to explaining exactly what she meant by traditions. Among pilots of Arzenal, each one of them had a nickname that also served as one of their callsigns when in operations. For example among the entire group, Alain was Trigger, Salia was Teach, Hilda was Count, Ersha was Swan, Vivian was Edge, Rosalie was Stingy, Chris was Ghost, and Zola herself was Vixen. Each one of them had earned those names for differing reasons after becoming pilots, EG, Alain got "Trigger" for having been a trigger-happy hot head, and he was hardly any different nowadays. Hilda got her "Count" nickname since she always made a game out of counting kills during deployments.

Getting your callsign was something of a rite of passage in Arzenal, one being considered "graduated" once you got it because it meant you'd proven yourself enough to your wing mates to get it to begin with. Of course, they also often served as a handy reminder of why one got it anyway, so sometimes the nicknames became a contentious point that then got co-opted into something one was often proud of.

"Like for example, Alain's OTHER nickname."

"Zola I'm gonna stop you right there!"

"Ah why not kid? You do have that emblem of yours after all."

"It's a Mobius Strip!"

"Ah don't be so stingy, Ribbon."

"You're not allowed to call me that."

The exchange between the two captains actually prompted a few laughs among the group, even as Alain also promptly flipped Zola the bird while she cackled, a gesture the older woman returned in kind. There was a clear animosity between the two, but there was also levity to it. It was a strange blend of respect as well. Ange, who wasn't used to this kind of atmosphere one bit, was still sitting there gawking.

"Alright then, moving on. And this'll be more for the new girl who doesn't know. But, allow me to show you Arzenal's Top Ten." Zola tapped the board again, and this time the image changed to a list. Ten people on it, their mugshots marking the furthest side. Ange's eyes scanned upwards, rather surprised all of the top rankers on it were people here in this room. The tenth and ninth were in different units, but, from eighth to first, the order went Rosalie, Chris, Ersha, Vivian, Hilda, Salia, Zola, and Alain. Next to their names were their nicknames as well as the designations of their machines… and next to those, numbers denoting a simple thing: "DRAGONs killed." And Alain's count had reached well into the triple digits even past Zola's own impressive triple digit number, though the numbers were close to each other. "This here is our little board to let people know just who tops here. As you can see I, your lovely captain, am only just behind Alain here, the lucky son of a bitch who's also got the title "Ace of Aces." Course he also has a monster of a machine but that's neither here nor there now is it? That title's just a formality anyway."

"On with the point." Alain cut in, standing up himself. "The basic idea of this is to try and encourage some healthy competition among pilots. Some take this a lot more seriously than others do. Also, we pilots have a few unwritten rules. Number one is what you SHOULD keep in mind: No kill stealing. Ever. The only reason you should take the kill from a wing mate is because they got damaged and need to pull back because they can't keep fighting. Otherwise, never shoot down a DRAGON someone else is aiming for. We get paid per kill, so it's generally agreed upon it's a bitch move to do that."

Everyone around nodded to that. As it were that was indeed the core unspoken rule among the Arzenal pilots. The general idea was that once they knew the number of DRAGONs in a swarm, they could then divide up the numbers among the lot to even out the pay. Obviously this wasn't always to plan, no plan survives an encounter with the enemy after all, so some earned more than others usually simply because they were able to get into the thick of it faster or remain operational longer. Zola then went on to explain exactly how that worked. The smaller classes of DRAGONs like the Schooner were a pay-by-kill exactly as said, and the same went for Sloops due to the fact a single Para-mail had the firepower to take one down without assistance due to being the sole "medium" class DRAGON.

As for the larger classes however, they weren't so easy to down just with gun or rocket fire alone. For them one would earn pay merely for assisting in the take down, while the biggest portion of the pay for a large type would go to whoever landed the kill shot. Zola did also mention what they called "Virgins", new types of DRAGONs they rarely encountered, but she also decided to save that full explanation for later, simply noting that if one shows up it's a massive payout since even just information is enough to get one a good sum of money.

Ange, for her lot, was still confused as all of this talk of money added to all her mounting questions about this place. Alain knew well enough why. The mana human society didn't operate on what could be called a typical economic system. With the fact mana powered essentially everything they used that wasn't tied to an electrical grid, there wasn't any resources to make any fusses over, and thus at the same time nobody had to pay for a thing. Everything produced in the mana society were there for free to be used as needed. And as a royal, Ange would have had it even better off.

Of course Alain knew a bit better about that society, and he had the recordings and stolen records to prove that the "ideal" society she came from wasn't as ideal as she likely thought it to be.

"So that about wraps this up! Now, that's been enough of a break I think." Zola chuckled as she turned the board off and scanned over the gathered crew. "We've still got more practice to go through before we're off for the rest of the day!"

"What?" And Ange could only give an exasperated sound at the idea they still weren't done after being literally thrown around by a machine for part of the day. What kind of crazy people were these Norma that they'd do something like that and still keep up through the rest of the day? Just what kind of hell had she found herself thrown into?


Training at Arzenal extended far beyond simple piloting skills. While piloting was arguably the most essential of the skills they learned, the Norma who went on to be pilots over mechanics, engineers, or tech specialists-who even then went through physical training of their own-were undoubtedly trained to be soldiers in every discipline. Obstacle courses to test endurance and speed in the face of a tricky environment, marksmanship with various kinds of guns ranging from small caliber handguns to heavy sniper rifles, and hand-to-hand combat.

It was in this instance that like with the Para-mail simulator, Ange was getting thrashed around like it was nothing. Now it wasn't as if Ange lacked in physical ability. Despite having been the princess of her former kingdom she'd attended a normal school and participated in sports, and of anything she'd been quite talented at them as well. Ange hadn't had a problem doing the running exercises with a full pack of gear weighing her down, and she'd had an easy time with the obstacle course.

But hand-to-hand sparring? That was not something Ange was proficient at in the slightest. She'd at first simply watched the others, and to her surprise even Alain participated in the spars despite the fact he had a much more advantageous build despite his svelte nature. Ange knew a bit about martial arts, but whatever style any of the Norma used was completely unknown to her. It seemed to vary from each of them anyway, not a single one of them using any similar method as the other.

And in lieu of that situation, while Ange had enough physical strength to manage in a grapple with false weapons against Salia, she very quickly found herself getting wrecked by Alain during sparring with bare hands alone. It wasn't just that Ange lacked proper martial arts know-how, but that Alain was dealing with any move she sent his way far too easily… and by the time the exchange ended with Ange pinned to the mat, she gave a grumble as Alain got off her when Zola called it.

"Ugh… how is it fair to have me go against a boy?!" Ange shot up as she protested. An earnest point for sure. Alain was the tallest one of the lot here at a good 177 centimeters, only 2cm taller than Zola, and slender he may be but he wasn't lacking in muscle either. And Ange wasn't unathletic either, so it wasn't as if she could excuse herself for lacking physical ability.

What Ange didn't expect from the pilots was for them to laugh (or at least attempt not to) like what she was saying was absolutely ridiculous.

"Do you really think the DRAGONs are gonna be fair to you? Just cause we're inside a giant metal machine doesn't mean a fight's "fair" Princess. All it does is make sure the odds aren't against us completely." Alain adjusted his bangs as he leaned back on a single leg a bit. "That and calling this unfair is… well, I'll let more qualified people put it best."

"Simply put, saying it's unfair because Alain is a man is ridiculous." Salia spoke up, though Ange gave her a bit of a look since even the seemingly level-headed Salia had laughed a bit earlier. "Just because he has a naturally better degree of strength means nothing. If you actually want to win in a real fight, then don't try and be "fair", you'll never win that way."

"That's rich coming from you." Hilda threw the jab out, and Salia growled at her in response, though the redhead was unfazed as she put her arms behind her head. "But either way, it is how it is! We all grew up with Alain so it's not like we can't handle him on the ground. A rookie like you though? Give it some practice."

"I beg to differ about being able to be handled on the ground." Alain had a smarmy tone as he replied to Hilda, his smirk earning a cross look, "Let's see… ah yeah, you haven't beat me in sparring since about three months ago."

"Oh son of a… well then, if it's a rematch you want it's one you'll get!" Hilda charged right in at Alain, the young man shifting his head ever so slightly as she went for a punch right to the nose first thing, which followed into Alain continually dodging or just tapping away Hilda's punches or kicks… and it was obvious she was actually trying to inflict some form of harm with how fast her limbs were moving.

"Is nobody going to stop them?!" Ange said, and once more she was looked at like she was the weird one in the situation.

"Those two are always like that. Just leave it be, Hilda'll calm down in a minute. Not like she'll get a clean hit in." Rosalie said, waving a hand as if to just brush it aside, Chris nodding.

"And if he gets hit, then Alain brought it on himself, and he knows it." Chris said, holding up a finger. "And despite how she acts Hilda doesn't hate him that much."

"Those two kids are just the type who "get along" by getting on each other's nerves." Zola remarked, giving a laugh. "It's just that right now it's stilted more towards dislike. And for me it is quite the deal of fun to be had because of it! One of these days they'll probably get it out of their systems in bed rather than with their fists."

"Captain, please not now." Salia grumbled, getting another laugh out of Zola, Rosalie and Chris squirming where they stood a bit. "You're worse than he can be…"

"Seriously… what is wrong with these people?" Ange muttered, bringing a hand to her face.

"Alright let's call it off now! Other people need some turns, so don't hog the mat." Ersha blew on a whistle, bringing the "spar" to a halt, Hilda huffing as he pulled her fist free of Alain's hand. Though in the second when Alain gave a snicker, Hilda wheeled around and took the chance to clock him right between the legs. The red head scoffed in satisfaction as Alain yelped while his hands went to the spot. Some of the others even winced a bit at his visible pain.

"Below the belt is too cheap!" Alain, his voice a bit higher from the pain, got Hilda flipping him off as a response. The boy growled, then chuckled as he cracked his knuckles. "Alrighty then. That got me a bit fired-ow!"

"Nope. That's enough for now." Ersha chopped Alain on the head as she gave him that scolding tone, the young man grumbling as he put a hand to the spot she hit. Of course not helped by his still throbbing ribs.

"Fiiiine."


"Paperwork… my worst enemy."

Alain stared at the screen of his computer with lidded eyes. What he had to consider the worst part of helping train Ange was this, having to file her progress in training from the starting line until Jill decided there was enough of it.

Now, giant flying dragons, some with powers beyond most conventional technology, he could handle. But having to spend time sitting down and typing away a report about things he really didn't get hyper focused on? Well that was like asking him to raid a bunker with nothing but a stiff herring for a weapon.

In short terms, very difficult if not outright undoable.

"Wyvern can you just take care of this?"

"If I always helped you in these cases then you'd never learn to do it yourself."

"Uggghhhhh…"

Alain set his head on the desk as that point he'd heard so many times by now was uttered by the AI, its terminal device angled up on a book. Letting out a sigh and sitting right up, even if he was grumbling about it the entire time, and with some prodding from Wyvern, Alain did get to work. Not much but the sound of his fingers typing on the keyboard for a few minutes.

"I'd rather be doing OS maintenance."

"Compared to that this should be easy."

"Quiet."

But then, a knock came to the door, and Alain pumped a fist.

"It's unlocked!" Alain said, though the feeling of possible salvation from the boredom before him was stifled ever so slightly when Salia peered in through the door. "Hey Salia, so what brings you around to my little hole huh?"

"For one, making sure you actually do what you have to."

"Geh…"

Salia entered the room fully and peered over his shoulder, Alain grumbling as he looked at the computer again, the girl moving past a bit to get a better look. If paperwork was Alain's worst enemy, then being made to actually do it was second on that list.

"Well at least you're actually trying to make it a real report." Salia then went to one of the two wardrobes the room had, opening it and scanning through it. Alain acted like he shut his eyes, but peeked just enough to see Salia changing out of her uniform and into a night dress of a rather thin nature.

Once she was changed, Salia moved and sat down on Alain's lap as she kept scanning over the report, the boy looking to the side with a lidded look as he tried not to snicker, even while Salia was going over his work and changing things here and there.

"Yet it's still all you… can't you stand to say more than the direct thing?"

"Like Jill cares how it's spelled out, I just gotta get the general point of Ange's performance across is all."

"This is barely more than one page of information."

"Yeah, because it's to the point."

"At least get it done."

"Yeah yeah."

As was what could probably be called a usual thing. Whenever Alain had some kind of paperwork he was required to get done, Salia would be there to make sure he did it right. But since he wasn't really the type who liked that kind of chatter alone, Alain of course was also thinking of other things.

"So, Salia, what's your thoughts about Ange hmm?" Since it was relevant, he figured that was something to bring up.

"Talent or not her attitude is the problem." Salia said, folding her arms as she sighed. "Even if it's just been a day I can tell that much. Either she gets over it and gets in line, or she winds up dead because of denial."

"Eh give it till her first flight, that'll decide things." Alain shifted a bit in his chair, and chuckled when Salia suddenly blushed, the girl grumbling under her breath. "She's kinda like how Hilda was when she showed up when we were kids. Stuck up, refusing to believe she's the same as the rest of us… course Hilda's a different case. She wasn't a princess whose Norma nature was kept hidden for sixteen years."

"A princess huh?" Salia murmured, leaning back to press into Alain a bit, glancing at him as she did. "You're not gonna go for her, are you?"

"Pff, hell no." Alain put a hand on Salia's head, eliciting a deeper blush from her. "I can at least say for sure she ain't my type. She's got a nice body but that personality just ain't the kind I'd mesh with no matter what. Someone else might… hmm, maybe Tusk? Though I haven't seen him in years."

"Who?"

"Nobody special, just an old friend." Alain's response didn't answer the question at all, though Salia just sighed. He wasn't going to answer that one clearly for some reason, that much was obvious. "So, this report look good enough to you?"

"Hmm… yeah, that's presentable enough." Salia leaned forward as she gave the report the look over, Alain shutting an eye as he snickered a bit at how the thin fabric of the night dress hid absolutely nothing. "Alain I hear you doing that laugh… also can you really not help yourself?"

"Not my fault you have a nice ass." Alain wrapped his arms around Salia's waist and pulled her back in, the girl shuddering a bit as he put his chin on her shoulder. "And besides who's the girl who got changed into this thin night dress and put said nice ass on my lap hmm? Can't blame me for appreciating it in that case, now can you?"

"Pervert…"

"Unashamed and proudly so!" By now Alain's hands were starting to wander, but despite her muttering Salia wasn't in any way trying to resist, quite the opposite, of anything actually moving to make it easier for Alain to play around a bit. "And this is why we keep saying you need to be more honest Salia. Your body is being a lot more honest with me right now than your mouth is."

"This is just… for stress relief." Salia spoke out between small moans as Alain touched at her chest and rear, the young man rolling his eyes at that wording for it.

"Suuure." But he didn't fully go against it. "She's still unaware of how loose lipped she gets in bed huh? Not that it's too bad of a thing… peh, how much longer is she gonna keep acting like I don't know though? That's what really bothers me. Seriously I keep saying she can be more honest if she wants to…"

"B-Alain… slow down a bit you're…"

"I know what I'm doing Salia." Alain punctuated the point by lighting nipping Salia on the ear, which made her suddenly jump a bit in his arms. "Ya' still like it there huh? So… should we move to the bed now or do you actually like this kind of position?"

"Geez… you're too aggressive sometimes." Salia said, Alain smirking since the blush on her face said plenty. "The bed… it'd be hard to do it like this."

"See, doesn't hurt to be honest does it?" Alain shoved the chair back to the edge of the bed, Salia yelping from the sudden move.

"Don't do that with a swivel chair! That's dangerous!"

"Pff, not like it was too far." Alain then laughed when Salia gave him a pout, the girl grabbing him and pulling him off the chair and onto the bed, winding up with Salia over Alain as he kept laughing. "Loosened up a bit Lieutenant?"

"Sometimes you're too loose."

"Well it's why we keep each other in check then yeah?"

Words that could be said to embody Arzenal. One part rigorous life of training and fighting, other part free living and doing as one pleased. For the likes of Alain and Salia that kind of life was what they'd always known… so when compared to Ange, it certainly made sure her "initiation" would be tumultuous.