The ground crunched loudly underfoot as the Type 37 sped through the thicket. Roots, grass, sticks, and branches crackled and crushed under the hurried treads of the vehicle still in retreat.

A shot rang out before another piece of the earth erupted into spraying dirt. While the tank was no worse for wear beyond having its intricate blue skin sprinkled with dust and soil, the situation proved ever more precarious.

Frederick grunted as he swayed along with the tank, the impact still prominent even for a near-miss. "Where's the Type 29?"

"S-still behind us!" squeaked Amelia whose eyes remained glued to the rear viewport of her cupola, her view shaky and claustrophobic.

Her problems were notably compounded for the boy whose scant view of the outside was untenable. Tempting as it may be to raise the hatch, Frederick felt he wasn't in a mood to be so reckless as to stick one's head outside the armored shell. "Damn. Can't get a good enough picture of what's going on outside to make a plan."

"Much less do anything with them still trying to shoot us!" added Katrin as she braced for every bump and shudder within the tight confines of the radio seat. "Is there a way out of this?"

"T-they're gonna get us eventually!" Daniel cried. "No way we can beat them like this!"

A foot nearly brushed by the back of his head. "Don't tell me you wanna give up, Danny!" Abbie snapped. "I ain't gonna let them win like that! (Especially to that drama queen!)"

Frederick sighed. "Even if this is just practice, I'd like to try winning too. But unless Abbie can actually hit something, we don't stand a chance."

Amelia kept her gaze fixed to the rear viewport, catching faint glimpses of their tank destroyer pursuer and its potent cannon whose smoking maw made it seem more like a snarling dragon. A fantastic sight, were it not for the fact that said monster was chasing them. Though it was nowhere near catching up to them, its gun and its gunner told a much different story.

She could only imagine just how valuable Rebeka would be for the tankery club… assuming Amelia could live to see it.

'Ough… If only we had Zak and their tank still around to back us up. Then we'd tag team them since there's two of us like how we did with Wyker and their tank! Taught them to run around annoying us the way they did.

'… Hmmm…'

"Daniel!"

"Y-yeah?" the boy answered, not expecting a call from the Gunther girl.

"Slow down for a sec!"

"... W-WHAT?!" everyone shouted, all heads whipping around to look stunned at Amelia.

But in spite of their incredulous looks, Amelia held firm. "I have an idea."

Inside the Type 29, things couldn't be any better.

Annabelle certainly felt that way. Though short a tank on her team, the score was swiftly seized back to even thanks to Rebeka's aim with the mighty cannon. And thanks to it still, the odds were smiling in their favor as much as Annabelle grinned at the circumstances.

Now to just win this little showdown.

She shot an impatient glare behind her. "Well…?!"

"I would hit them already if he gets on with it," muttered Rebeka as she too gripped the gun controls restlessly. Her gaze furtively glanced to the person behind her.

At the back of the tank, there was much huffing and wheezing as Timothy struggled to heave another forearm-length brass shell into the waiting breech. "And… I would… appreciate it… if Miss Rebeka… could hit for Ms. Nelson…" the boy gasped as his cheeks puffed in and out like a balloon.

Their commander and driver scoffed with a haughty air. "Hmph. You heard him! Let us settle our affairs in one decisive stroke, shall we?"

"T-thank you Ms. Nelson!" Timothy panted with relief. Rebeka merely grumbled at the two's antics but glancing back at the gun sights, a surprising scene gave her pause.

"...? Why are they slowing down?"

"Huh?" Turning back to the driver's viewport, Annabelle held her gaze captive to the front, intrigued by her gunner's uncharacteristic surprise. Like Rebeka, Annabelle narrowed her eyes at the unforeseen development playing before her, even if she could barely see them.

The Type 37 which played the role of mouse in their skirting retreat now unexpectedly slowed. Running away still, the universal tank no longer scurried like one. Despite the dire straits it found itself in, their adversary seemed strangely unconcerned for their safety. Were they still afraid?

Yanking the sticks back, Annabelle grunted as she brought her mechanical steed to heel. It was time to end this, here and now.

Rebeka pressed her head tight against the lens as she concentrated… and waited.

"You- you sure about this?"

"I don't know," Amelia admitted. "But if Wyker and his guys can run around the way they did back then, then so can we!"

Frederick gawked at her with incredulity. "... Have you actually thought about this?"

She glanced aside. "I uh, it just occurred to me so I thought it would be a decent idea. Besides, it worked for them, right?"

The boy could only shake his head. "Oh boy…"

"Hey, works for me," Abbie replied audaciously. Ever since having the plan be summed up as "drive around, this time in the vague direction towards the enemy until we can get close enough to shoot", Abbie was grinning from ear to ear.

Same could not be said for their driver. Daniel clutched the steering wheel with shaky hands. "P-please tell me you're joking, Amelia!"

"Huh? Why would I do that now?" the brunette inquired. "I don't know if this is a good idea but I'm serious here! I can see them still trying to aim for us."

"Yeah but-"

"Look Daniel, we can't keep running away like this. We've got to do something. Just please trust me on this."

The boy despondently sighed but after taking a breath his grip steadied. "... Okay. Just tell me what I got to do."

Amelia nodded. "And if this really does turn out to be a stupid idea, you can blame me all you like."

This earned a snicker from Katrin. "Will do!"

Amelia returned to the view slits. Her breath held when she reacquired the Type 29, finding herself staring down its gun barrel once more. She saw that their reaction was immediate: with them slowing down, the tank destroyer could catch up. Coming to a stop, their gunner would no doubt reel them in like a trawler hunting its biggest catch.

But as much as they were to be the unfortunate fish in this analogy, Amelia had no intention to be the mere prey. They won't be prolonging this chase - this was going to be a fight now.

Her gaze stayed course with the tank destroyer, seeing its gun probe for them. Instantly Amelia knew the clock was ticking. "Abbie!"

"Way ahead of ya!" With the whirring of the turret motor the Type 37's head finally trundled around, its own gun seeking the target. Through a miniscule view that the mere gun sight offered, Abbie growled anxiously as she acquired the stoic image of the Type 29 - and its silent gun - in her view. Between the considerable distance that still lay between them and even with the aid of their slower travel to minimize the shakiness of the gun, even Abbie admitted that her chances were still slim. The tank's gun entrusted to her wobbled up and down like her point of view as she struggled to seek the one chance to strike.

Fortunately, it was not the only tool at her disposal.

Latching onto the target as best she could, Abbie saw her opportunity. "Take this!"

From the white armored shroud of the Type 37's mantlet, a flash of fire erupted from its side. Once overshadowed and overlooked by the grand cannon, the coaxial now made its important debut as it belched light, streams of tracers flowing in rhythm to the speed of the 7.92mm Erma machine gun.

Gunfire raked through the rural trees, their focus at the mercy of the tank's haste. But wild as it was, the stream of lead gave the gunner a generous many chances to hit her target - dozens, in fact, in a span of a second.

Annabelle flinched as light flashed into her eyes. Grimacing, she felt more at pain than their vehicle whose thick metal skin was more than a match for a few errant bullets glancing off like mere rain. But as far as she was concerned, a few scratched paint was an affront she could not ignore.

"Insolent fools!" she spat. "How dare you!"

As if in response, the Type 37 promptly zoomed off. Annabelle wasted no time wrenching the gears into motion and soon, so was their tank destroyer.

Rebeka was surprised by the sudden lurch. "What're you doing?"

"Chasing after them, what else?!" exclaimed their commander/driver as she stomped on the pedal with furor that reflected her visage. "They have dared affront I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, with their insulting attack! This shall not stand!"

Rebeka scowled to make her reply but found it drowned by the crescendo roar of their engine as the machine roused from their idleness. The motor grumbled loudly as power pumped through its mechanical heart. The chase was resumed, but the tempo was much different now: the pursuit once calm, methodical, and assured thanks to their power was now forgotten in lieu of a new drive.

Now it was personal.

Amelia watched close as the Type 29 jerk back into motion. Even through the viewports and shaky perspective she could see that its movements had become more energetic. The tank destroyer orientated itself in their direction, the cannon staring and gears grinding now faster than ever.

She smiled to herself. It actually worked.

"What's going on?" asked Frederick.

"They're actually chasing us," Amelia replied. She kept her attention captive at the sight of their foe attempting to keep up with them - actually attempting to chase after them. Where the tank destroyer's crew had wisely tapped into their firepower as an edge, now their outrage had gotten the best of them.

"Okay, so they're still coming after us," repeated Frederick. "Just like they did last time. Except now…"

Amelia whirled down to look for their driver. "Okay Daniel, do it!"

"Got it!"

With an exerted grunt, the Czherny boy spun the wheel around, yanking everyone by the sudden change in direction as he sent the tank swerving to a bold new course. First they had been running away; then he merely skirted in their foe's sights to deliver Abbie's provocation. Having succeeded that, all that was left was to close the distance before they could fire another shot… so they can deliver theirs.

They were coming straight for the enemy now.

Daniel kept a tight grip on the controls as he pressed the accelerator, the Type 37's engine humming louder than ever. Everyone held tight as the ride began to turn bumpy, each thump and jolt felt through the hull's many suspensions. In spite of all the rattling, Amelia managed to keep her head on straight as she kept sight of the blue turtle-like machine as they charged.

Within that turtle, Annabelle blinked. One moment she was pursuing the Type 37 with all haste she could muster from her machine, a horse made more mighty by its power and armor than speed. And the next, she now found their prey now advancing towards her. Rather than catching the bright blue glow of its rear, it occurred to her that she was now staring down her opponent's lance.

Still irked by the provocation from before, Annabelle scowled as she now understood: this was a challenge. She maintained her course. "Well?!"

"Well what?" argued Rebeka.

"They're right in front of us!" their driver nearly screeched. "Fire!"

Their gunner felt a soft bump amid the vibrations of a stampeding vehicle. Holding the controls in the tight shaky confines reminded her of riding a mechanical bull. "Slow down! I'll-"

"Fire! Fire, I command you!"

With a frustrated groan, Rebeka complied as she pulled the trigger.

The Type 29's gun thundered and Amelia felt the familiar punch from afar. She flinched from the all-too dreadful feeling, hearing even the shell whistling by. But strangely, the sense of impact became absent and it took her a moment to realize that it had missed - Rebeka had actually missed.

She couldn't believe their luck. Now it was time to make good of it before it ran out.

The Type 37 drifted a bit to the side, Daniel jittery from the near-miss sensation and the dumb luck that followed. He tried to course correct but his shaken nerves translated into his steering as the tank swayed left and right, all composure knocked askew.

That gave Amelia an idea. "Yeah, Daniel! Keep doing that!"

"D-doing what?!"

"What you're doing! Drive like crazy so we don't get hit!"

Now the dots began to connect for the boy. "O-okay! Whatever you say!"

The swaying quickly amplified as the Type 37 was sent in a dizzying serpentine motion, the bolt of courage turned now into them snaking towards their foe.

Annabelle followed their movements with a frown. Dismayed by how her gunner missed, she was now too confused by the antics of the enemy tank to exert her anger. Behind her, Rebeka was equally puzzled as she went back to work aiming. As she waited for the next shell, the black-haired girl diligently did her best to track her target, wheeling the horizontal traverse to and fro in rapid succession. She grunted as she followed after the constantly-shifting image of the Type 37 that darted around with no clear pattern or coherence.

The tank veered to the side and Rebeka turned the gun to follow, only to find that the mechanism and gears then hit a snag. She blinked before it occurred to her what happened. "Turn."

Annabelle peered over her shoulder. "Say what?"

"Turn the tank," repeated the Wulfstan girl with more seriousness. "I can't turn this any more."

"What?" Annabelle gasped with incredulity. "What do you mean you can't-" Then it just hit her. It dawned on her that their tank's turretless quirk had now reared its ugly head - and of its dire implications as she whirled back to her slit window to see no Type 37. Only the dust trail from where it went, slipping out from her field of vision and that of their cannon.

"Ohhhh frick me!" she hissed as she fumbled for the steering levers.

With Daniel having taken them out of harm's way, Amelia could breathe easy. The gun stayed quiet, which was another plus as it wiggled about trying to catch them before it thundered again.

But what she considered double unplus good ('How is that a word?') was when she caught the Type 29 turning their way and bringing the gun after them.

"Uh, they're turning towards us!" the Gunther girl called out.

A look of apprehension spread on Daniel's face as he maintained his speed, keeping the throttle as he grit his teeth anxiously. Though his driving may have helped them throw off their aim, the jig was running thin: the final overture was fast approaching like the distance between the two tanks. Beside him, Katrin could only observe with dread, left with nothing to improve their chances.

"Can't this thing go any faster?!" implored Katrin.

Daniel concentrated as hard as he could, conjuring anything he could think of to somehow compel this machine to go beyond its current limits. "C'mon… c'mon!"

From her seat, Amelia couldn't tear away from the events that unfolded, the only one with the clearest picture of the battle that still developed. The tank continued to speed around the tank destroyer as the turret crawled in its direction, both driver and gunner aware of what was left to do: avoid the Type 29's powerful gun so they get close enough for Abbie to hit. Everything had gone according to how she had suggested (more or less).

Yet even if it was her idea, Amelia felt as helpless as Katrin.

She watched the tank destroyer rotate with bated breath. She had no idea how long it took between shots, but the gaping maw of their cannon, however silent, never failed to make her nervous. The distance between them was quickly shrinking but the gap was still too great to jump at their chance.

Not that it mattered to Abbie as the gun boomed, much to the startlement of all whose nerves were wound tight by tension.

"A-Abbie!"

"What? I had a straight shot!" their gunner argued back.

Amelia turned back to see the tank destroyer alive and unharmed, nary a blackened mark to adorn its blue hide to her horror. "Uh, you still missed!"

"Oh come on!"

Frederick was already upon digging up another shell. "Hang on, I'm reloading!"

"Better make it quick!" Katrin exclaimed.

"S-steady!" cried Amelia. It was much an assurance for herself as much as it was for the others.

"How much closer do we have to be?" Frederick grunted aloud.

"Nearly there!" Amelia called back, too captivated by her view outside to look away.

Two tanks, in a strange but tense duel: one playing merry-go-round to get to the side of the other making haste to catch the other with its stare. The Type 37 inched closer and closer towards the tank destroyer in its looping drive that formed a spiraling trail, and closer and closer the Type 29's gun inched to intercepting the universal tank.

Rebeka and Annabelle awaited with restlessness as it slowly crept back into their respective views; the latter fought the controls, cursing the limitations of antiquated machinery while the former held firm, holding her breath for the knockout blow. At this range, delivering one would be easy as breathing.

The gun breech slammed shut with a click. "Reloading done!" announced Frederick.

Amelia steeled herself. They had waited long enough - it was now or never.

"Fire!"

A press of a trigger. The two duelists became cloaked in smoke and dust as grinding treads met dirt, hot air of an explosion met still air, and metal struck metal.

Daniel kept driving until all of a sudden the tank struck something hard. His tense nerves jumped at the unexpected stop until his vision cleared. Peering out through her cupola, Amelia was also almost in disbelief by what she saw.

A charred mark on the front of the Type 29, right where an 88mm shell had struck at close range. And hoisted above its roof: a miniature white flag.

From afar, the two adults had been rapt audiences to what transpired. Lipponen was agape by what she saw while even Rodriguez found himself impressed with a smirk. Somewhat impressed. With the schoolteacher too speechless, it fell upon the instructor to make the grand announcement.

"THAT'S CHARLIE TANK AND ALL OF TEAM 2 OUT OF THE FIGHT! ALPHA TANK WINS AS LAST TANK STANDING! THAT CONCLUDES THE EXERCISE!"

Sitting still in her seat, Amelia still couldn't believe it. It was over; they had actually won. She breathed in and out in relief, realizing how winded she now was.

Sounds of bafflement and consolation were shared amongst her friends as took a second to unwind, another to realize what they had just accomplished. Abbie was the first to holler in celebration. "Yyyyyyes!" she whooped. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, that's how it's done!"

Frederick gave a ribbing snort. "Don't celebrate too hard, Abbie, or you'll accidentally kick our driver in the back. Nice work, Daniel."

"T… thanks," the boy gasped as he slumped in his seat, the exaltation more than his body could handle.

"Good job, Danny!" Katrin chimed in with her compliments. "Couldn't have done it without ya."

The tall Potter boy nodded in approval, sharing a look with their driver, radio operator, and gunner. And last but not least, he turned to Amelia with a smile on his face.

"Hey, you still with us?"

The poking roused Amelia from her thoughts. Yanked back to the present, she looked confused. But after seeing Frederick give her a look of encouragement amid the cheers of her friends, a smile of her own sprung forth. A comforting pat on her shoulder brought upon a sheepish giggle from the brunette.

First day of actually doing tankery, and already her first triumph. She still couldn't believe it. Amelia - high school freshman, born and raised from a quaint city near the edge of her country, in a club of a sport she's only partly heard of, with friends she's only recent met - still couldn't believe that they had actually managed to win. To be part of an unlikely team that achieved something to remember, even if this was just practice in the end. As a member of such team, Amelia wanted to thank everyone for their contributions.

She thanked Katrin for handling communications, even if the role proved short-lived. She thanked Abbie for her her gunnery that, trigger-happy as it was, helped deliver the final blow. She thanked Daniel for his driving even under duress. And last but not least, she thanked Frederick for keeping a cool head and being one for the team.

But for herself…

As everyone gathered before their adult supervisors, the entire tankery club could see that Lipponen could never be more happier.

"Fantastic work, everyone!" their club advisor praised, rewarding them all with an energetic ovation that scarcely captured the jubilation on her visage. "Congratulations to everyone for seeing your very first practice through to the end!"

"Real troopers, some of you," added their instructor as he stood beside Lipponen at attention.

"Even if some of you got knocked out early on, you gave one heck of a performance! You all really showed real talent and potential so early on!" continued their teacher as she threw in a wink as a commendation.

"Damn straight. I've seen my fair share of tankery but that was something. You maggots really proved yourselves out there. Especially you rascals in that Type 37!"

Immediately the five students who made up that tank perked up in light of their recognition. Frederick, Abbie, Katrin, Daniel, and Amelia, though weary stood even straighter as all eyes were upon them. Lipponen who had been all sunshines had her eyes shine even brighter as she turned towards them all.

"Oh how could I even think about overlooking the ones that gave an outstanding performance! You five who have been with us since the very start, I knew you all had it in you! Many congratulations to you all for working together as a team, as all tank aces are!"

Abbie beamed from ear to ear with pride. "Hell yeah! Teamwork makes the dream work!"
"Thank you kindly, miss!" Katrin accepted cheerfully.
Daniel glanced away, touched but embarrassed by the praise. "I-it was nothing…"
Even Frederick found it difficult to keep a straight face, even if it was to be expected from all diligent hard work. "Er, thank you very much Ms. Lipponen."

Lipponen smiled happily towards the boy. "No, thank you Mr. Potter for your leadership. You really handled it very well there!"

The boy stopped. "Uh, that actually wasn't me back then."

Now it was Lipponen's turn to be stumped. "Then who?" she asked.

One by one, without a word, the crew of five turned towards one of their own, four hands that fell on the shoulders of a brown-haired girl with a bright red handkerchief. That same girl quickly realized that she had been thrust into the limelight, short of being hoisted up and paraded for all to see. Try as she might, there was no way Amelia could divert attention away from herself now.

The teacher's jaw dropped. "S-since when?" she stammered. "Don't tell the knockout of the Type 25 and the 29 were your ideas all along…!"

"T-the first one was definitely Zak and Rachel's thing!" Amelia quickly claimed. "I didn't really do anything!"

"Except help them out…" corrected Frederick.

"... Which was good because we wouldn't have done it without 'em," added Zak. Despite the scrapes and smudges of dirt, his smirk was warm and fond. Likewise, so was her sister's as she shared an audacious glance with Wyker and his crew who were all equally besmirched as they were. The wild-hearted boy lightly chuckled in good spirits at their performance. Next to them, noticeably lacking in stains on their clothing, Lukas, Wilheim, and Mariah shared their hushed awe.

"But after that…" spoke up Katrin.
"Amy came up with this baller plan!" added Abbie.
"Sounded crazy at first, but she reassured me- er, I mean all of us…" Daniel mumbled.
"I had no hand in it," Frederick admitted, his confession tinted with a sense of pride. "I doubt I would've thought up anything like that on my own. But Amelia's plan actually worked out in the end, so we have her to thank for."

Amelia added nothing to the report as she stood blushing in silence. Beside her stood Annabelle and her crew, poor Timothy left to rest on Rebeka's back to her stewing chagrin while the Nelson girl pouted at her defeat. But a defeat as it may be, she took solace at the fact that it was a spectacular one. And moreso, she had never expected it to have been delivered by the kind-hearted girl of all people.

Lipponen found the conclusion hard to believe, her mind trying to grasp for words, trying to find a suitable answer for the outstanding display she had witnessed. Though simple as it was in combating a casemate tank destroyer in solo combat, the teacher knew it was no simple feat for a beginner to come up with such strategy. To provoke it with probing MG fire, take advantage of how the vehicle was out of position, and exploit its casemate nature to score a daring flanking kill. But there the answer was, standing just in front of her.

She approached Amelia who tried in vain to shrink from her presence, but her sunny smile managed to coax out a glance from her. Lipponen beamed even brighter to assure her student.

"Well done, Miss Gunther. Keep up the good work!"

"Um… sure," came Amelia's soft reply.

Praise given, the club advisor breathed a sigh of relief. She cast her gaze towards the skyline before taking a peek at her watch. "Good heavens, would you look at the time! Well, tankery class, I'd say that's a day of training done! Next club meeting, we'll be doing some more practice, this time with more finer craft of tank operations… and a lot less intense live-fire exercises."

Behind her, where Rodriguez's tank sat docile, he ascended it in a flash. The engine came back to life right as he nestled into the commander's station. "Well, that's class dismissed! Gotta say Miss Lipponen, you certainly made my day. I don't often get to say that, just so you know."

The woman stifled a giggle at the compliment. "Why thank you, master sergeant. It was my pleasure."

"Heh. Any time," the soldier said. He turned to the skies where the shadow of the same helicopter that dropped him off passed over everyone's heads. "And in the meantime, gotta RTB. Amatrain calls and it'll need hardasses like me to make sure the kids weren't misbehaving. And speaking of kids..."

"About to tell me good luck with the tankery club?" Lipponen guessed.

Rodriguez snickered. "Goes without saying. But in all honesty, I think you and your students got this in the bag. I showed 'em the ropes and I'm sure they can take it from here."

"... Why thank you," murmured Lipponen as the light tank rolled off with a kick, taking the drill sergeant off to the field where the aircraft awaited him. Grass rippled in waves where the helicopter hovered before a set of armatures grabbed hold of the modern tank. Cargo secured, the craft ascended where it soon faded from sight into the afternoon sky.

She then found herself gazing at the empty horizon with a wistful sense in her heart. But as much as she could linger on about the past and where she is now, Lipponen turned back to look over her pupils. Just like what the soldier assured, it was they who mattered: the future generation with whom she had entrusted with the art of tankery. Of all things to learn and experience in adolescence, it was her passion that they chose. And she, as an educator and their guide, would make sure to honor and make good on that choice.

Lipponen could nearly squirm with glee - she knew no better privilege than to teach the passion she always dreamed of.

Composing herself, she clapped her hands for attention. "Alright everyone! That's it for today. Again, great job to you all for your hard work. Next time we meet, we'll-"

"Ahem."

The club advisor spun around at the unexpected encounter of the school faculty, a handful of staff members whom she knew personally. Fellow teachers of all subjects and custodians, Lipponen recognized them all.

She quickly straightened herself out. "O-oh hello there, Richard, Marielle, um…"

One of the school teachers sighed in exasperation. "My name is Agartha."

"Oh, so sorry!" apologized Lipponen as she threw in a childish head-bonking for good measure. "So what brings you all here to-"

"We'll get straight to the point, Elma," cut in another teacher as he stepped in. "Just uh, turn around for a sec."

"Um, sure!"

Doing as she was told, Lipponen wasn't sure what to see until a hand pointed to the school grounds. The same grounds that the tanks had romped through; the dirt bearing track imprints, the bushes trampled underfoot, bark and woods snapped and cut short from where shellfire and shrapnel had sliced into them, and the earth upheaved into various pockmarks that dotted the landscape (some of which were still smoking).

"Care to explain what you've done to the school grounds?!" the man demanded, barely able to contain his outrage.

Lipponen could only chuckle nervously. "I, uh, one thing kinda led to another and before we knew it…"

"And look at this!" cried another staff member as she shoved a digital list of reports from her phone, its breadth captured only in barely-comprehensible blur that scrolled by. "We've been flooded with a surge of noise complaints from all throughout the campus! All afternoon, nothing but that terrible booming noise, and I swear to God something flew right by my window!..."

"Uwah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!..." Lipponen blabbered in tears, her apologies and bowing coming rapid-fire nonstop.

Just another day for the burgeoning tankery club.

Evening came and when the night began to settle, Amelia felt as though she could spend it all staring at the ceiling.

She laid on her bed, all refreshed from the rigors of today. A moment of respite in which she can be herself with all the time that remained outside classes and school. But with what freedom she had remaining after a well-earned wash and a filling supper (and dessert), Amelia now found herself alone with her thoughts. The same thoughts that had lingered in the back of her head now found a moment to strike now that there was nothing to push it back.

All this time, she thought back to the events of today. She thought back to how the training went, how everyone felt out their assigned roles chosen from the weekend before. Amelia remembered how that went, going with whatever they felt made them comfortable or appropriate. Yet, when it was time to play their roles out for real, there was a moment when assumptions had been disproven, some lines blurred, some expectations subverted.

… What role did she play? What should she play?

Was everyone right all along?

About her? About what she could be?

Amelia quietly sighed as she turned over. Looking back, she knew that she surprised even herself. Lipponen and her friends had vouched for her to assume the position of leadership but Amelia felt she was unqualified. She was afraid, sure, but she felt she simply wasn't ready. What memories she had of her early upbringing, she never had the chance to really stand out. The only thing that gave her attention was her family name. Never once did she need to prove herself - people just assumed her worth by virtue of being a Gunther.

But what she had just done today… was that all her doing? Was she just lucky? It was so weird to think that it was her in that commander's seat; was it really her?

She suddenly heard a buzz emanating from the surface of her desk. Looking up, Amelia reached for her phone to find a text message awaiting her.

Abbie: hey girl! that was something aint it?

The brunette cracked a small smile. She quickly whipped up a reply.

Amelia G: Yeah it was

Abbie: that was awesome! im so glad i got to do tankery with u Amy!

Amelia G: Hehe. Sure

Frederick: Hey Amelia. How are you holding up?

Amelia G: Oh just chilling. It's been a big day so I'm taking it easy now.

Frederick: Have a good rest. Hopefully the next club meeting will have something less intensive.

Abbie: bruh you kidding? that was hella dope! i want more of that kind of stuff!

Amelia smiled endearingly at her friends in chat, their energy brimming in their words. But strumming her fingers, a thought put a damper on the good feeling. A flicker in the pleasant vibes that reminded her, yearning now that the time had come.

She didn't have to ask… but she felt she needed answers.

Amelia G: Hey… how did I do back then?

Frederick: You did very well. Much better than me I'd say.

She blushed. Amelia: Sorry I took over your job like that. I wasn't sure if it was right for me to do that.

Frederick: What are you talking about? Even when I had my doubts, you made the right calls.

Abbie: yeah! you forgot we won because of you? i dont care if it was stupid we got stuff done like dinner!

The girl sighed. Amelia: I just got lucky

Frederick: Maybe. But that doesn't change the fact you were a huge help out there. And honestly, chances were you would've done well even without me. Hard to look outside without a window.

Abbie: yeah you were mvp that time! and hey if freddie says you did a good job then guess i should too. besides, every newbie keeps saying they got lucky when they do something right like they werent supposed to win or something

Frederick: There's a reason we all didn't object to you being the commander last weekend. And no, it's not because you're a Gunther.

Frederick: You did this, Amelia. It was thanks to you. You got us to work as a team. You figured out a plan that won us that exercise. The only luck here was that you actually had your head in the right place that time.

Abbie: bruh lol

Amelia could only muster an embarrassed snicker and she could imagine that somehow, everyone could see it. Through her phone's camera maybe.

Frederick: But know that luck or not, we're all still learning. I don't know how I could have done better than you. To tell you the truth, you're pretty apt for someone who's never done this before.

Abbie: heck yeah Amy! you got this girl!

Reading the final responses, the Gunther girl couldn't help but smirk like a giddy child.

Only when she checked the time did she bid her friends good-bye and shut her phone off. Tucking in for the night, the dorm room was at last bathed in darkness with the light all but a faded memory of the artificial day. Yet sleep did not befell the young girl even as she slipped under the warm covers. Even as she saw only paling moonlight, Amelia remained awake despite the night. She laid still, staring off into nothing as she waited for sleep.

But her mind was too preoccupied to let it arrive.

She remembered the words she received as clearly as she had read them on her screen. The words that came to reply to her doubts. The words that came not as criticism but as encouragement and honest support. The words from her friends.

Should she believe them? They've only known her for as long as their current school semester. If anyone knew Amelia, it should be herself. But when it came to lingering doubts or hesitation, could she even trust her own opinion? Did she know herself as much as she was in complete control of herself (which to Amelia's personal estimate, was about 75%, give or take a few percentages and some brain cells)?

Perhaps there was more to herself than Amelia realized; fifteen years to figure out she had much to learn about what she was capable of.

In times like this, only friends can tell you the truth about who you are.

Though she gazed at nothing, Amelia narrowed her eyes. 'Am I really…?'

But as much as she could wonder, Amelia couldn't contemplate forever. She had already invited the question and she already had an answer. Now it was her turn to address it herself. She thought back to earlier events, reliving them like some kind of documented recording. She had her moment without her even realizing it. She had proved something nobody was testing for. It was up to her to do something with the results.

And when she did, she finally fell asleep, her demeanor now at peace.

The next morning, Lipponen was by her desk at the staff room. Stacks of papers filled ingoing, outgoing, and everything in between piled on the surface in changing tides, the only thing that changed between the monotony of desk work. Were it not for the prospect of tankery, she was almost compelled to think she was reliving some kind of loop of paperwork over and over again. But the thought of it gave fuel to her fire as she trudged through the tedious but essential craft of teaching and educational bureaucracy. Work before play, as they always say.

For once, she did not miss the days of being a normal school teacher.

Lipponen hummed cheerfully, a child at heart when it came to her passions. She finished signing the papers with a flourish of her pen before tapping the stack into order. With the moment's work done and dusted, she thought to rise before a voice halted her.

"Um, Miss Lipponen?"

"Hm?" she murmured, intrigued by the presence that snuck up on her side. But even more intriguing was when she glanced up to see who it was that dropped by.

All the more surprising given it was someone she wasn't expecting.

The sun held high again for Lion Paw tankery club, though many took shelter from its grandeur within the garage that became their de facto club house. In the space where the Type 37 once sat during the club's founding, it was now home to the members that congregated inside the building. Although it had been relegated to the roofed lot outside with the other tanks, its legacy was nonetheless felt in the ambience of faint motor oil and metal that hung in the air.

The inheritors that gave the club life were all present; spirits eager for what awaited them now. Murmurs, chatter, and whispers were shared as each crew intermingled with expectations, desires, and even theories on what the future brought. The first day had them hooked - no one had any intention of backing out now.

Everyone waited in their own ways. Frederick occupied himself with the tapping of his finger as he stood cross-armed, waiting. With no chairs to sit on or table to gather around, the club gathered like some kind of informal social soiree. Abbie imitated the wait with spontaneous tapping of her feet timed to the beats from her headphones. Daniel simply kept to himself while Katrin amused herself by the going-ons through her phone (and occasionally showing to Daniel whatever funny meme or shitpost she stumbled upon).

But at last, the door opened and shut to trumpet the arrival of the final guest needed for attendance. All glances followed Lipponen as she entered the room, a stack of nondescript fliers and paper in hand and with a shining smile on her face. Her expression warmed the mood even more than the sunshine that filtered inside.

"Hi, everyone! Sorry if I kept you all waiting."

A mix of return greetings and acknowledgement welcomed her in response. Taking the reception as a cue to come in, Lipponen stepped across the garage with a pep in her step to the front where a folded table and old chalkboard awaited, the arrangement as improvised as their meeting place.

Settling in at the head of the room with all eyes upon her, Lipponen leafed through her papers one last time. "Now, before we commence with another day of learning the ropes of tankery, I have a couple announcements to make!

"Firstly, thank you all. I may have said this before, but thank you all for choosing tankery, to take the time to engage in something you've all never done or even heard about. I'd scarcely believed I could have ever gotten this club started, let alone be filled with wonderful and aspiring students such as yourselves! And despite whatever rough edges we had up until this point (oh please have mercy on me, dear gardeners and custodians from yesterday), it is all thanks to you that Lion Paw National High School's tankery club is and will remain legit! We are officially recognized and our outlook is secured! So long as we continue to receive funding, we have nothing to worry about!

"Yay!" concluded the club advisor, throwing in a small bit of self-congratulatory clapping for good measure. A half-hearted imitation was followed up by some of the attendees as they clapped a little. Even in the face of the good news, the response made it a little awkward.

Even Lipponen could see that as she cleared her throat to start anew. "Ahem. So anyways, that's announcement number one. Now, for the second announcement…

"Uh, thank you all again for your hard work during yesterday's training. I know it must have been difficult to learn under such conditions with a strict instructor. I just thought I could make the day even more special with someone qualified~.

"And once again, congratulations all for seeing the training through to the end, especially with that final live-fire exercise! You all did well for beginners and even made a good impression on Mr. Rodriguez, so brownie points for all of you!"

Heads nodded with approval with even a whooping cheer from Wyker and Abbie thrown in. Lipponen blushed with delight at their reaction, knowing just how much they took pride in knowing the fruits of their labor. But while impressing one instructor was one thing compared to being top tankery athletes on the continent, she let them bask in their moment of triumph. It was their victory.

However, that was not what she was getting at. "S-so moving along, the results from yesterday, as you may have seen, have been phenomenal. You were taught how to drive, how to shoot, how to work together whether among your team or with another tank. But that team exercise has also shown me something - something that I hadn't really been looking for but nonetheless appreciate finding."

Suddenly the crowd's mood shifted. They gave Lipponen their due attention with looks of curiosity as they wondered where this was going, or just what it was that their teacher discovered.

"You see, the live-fire exercise showed me that a lot of you are more capable at tankery than I had expected," continued Lipponen. "Whether it was Wyker and his crew making very bold moves or Rebeka proving to be a natural shot with the Type 29's cannon, everyone demonstrated that they fit their assigned roles like peas in a pod! But there was one exception to this case that I wish to mention…"

Everyone turned amongst themselves with hushed tones. Frederick caught the spontaneous mystery that swept up the whole club and catching Abbie's look, he didn't have much to wonder. The pair of them had strong suspicions on what this was about.

They didn't have long to guess before they saw the answer.

Quietly, she made her way towards the front under cover of the gossip. But even as the others were not paying attention, they did not fail to take heed of the one who made her way past them. One by one, muttered chatter trailed off as one by one, everyone took notice of the person that approached Lipponen by her side.

Timidly but obediently, Amelia stood at front as that "exception".

"Miss Gunther here has asked to assume the role of commander of the Type 37!" announced Lipponen. "In recognition of her extraordinary display of initiative during the practice match, I would like to ask the current commander of that tank to weigh in on the request."

Frederick swiftly felt gazes zeroing in on him, more than Abbie's as the two glanced at each other again. But even without saying a word to each other, he did not hesitate to make the call. To the two of them, the only surprise was seeing how soon their friend had come around to make this decision.

The tall boy turned back to the teacher to deliver her his answer, his gaze of confidence also partly directed towards the young brunette. "No objections, Miss Lipponen. I'm more than happy to let her be in charge."

"Same here, Teach!" enthusiastically added Abbie.

"Uh, yeah for me too," quickly chimed in Katrin. Daniel sputtered for a response, compelled by the sudden peer pressure to pitch in. "U-uh yeah, no problems. No problems…"

Lipponen's visage beamed even brighter as she clasped her hands. "If you are all in agreement, then it's settled! From here on out, Miss Amelia Gunther shall be the commander of the Type 37 and its crew! Please show her your support as you've done~!"

Amelia fidgeted, feeling her insides squirm under the spotlight even as she held it together. And why should she break composure now? This was her idea after all. It was her choice - it was up to her to make the leap. But seeing the faces of her friends and the acceptance they voiced, Amelia knew it was going to be okay.

Enough so that the next big leap she had planned for would go down smoothly as well.

As if she could read her mind, Lipponen motioned for everyone's attention again. "And that's not all! Miss Gunther will also be volunteering as club president from now on!"

Instantly all talk and thoughts ceased. Such was the bombshell of a news that all were agape. This time, even her immediate friends found the news shocking.

Amelia tried her best to remain calm and controlled but couldn't help but feel nervous at all the attention she was getting now. But she had time to consider. She figured that if being the leader of a crew was okay… then what about being leader of the whole club? Before, she felt daunted; but the obstacles Amelia felt were in the way proved to be easier to overcome - it was only herself that held her back. And if all it took was a bit of a push…

Maybe it could actually be fun…?

She took a deep breath. She had her friends and now her teacher's approval. She had nothing to be afraid of.

"The- Miss Lipponen's tankery club was missing a club president. She's been very helpful to us so far, knowing what to do and giving us the things we need. But she's only just the club advisor… We need someone who can represent us, look after us, do the um, club president stuff when Miss Lipponene's not around. We have everything, but all we're missing is that someone. Someone who can keep the tankery club together, someone who wants to be in the club, someone who can do what's best for us.

"I… I had actually been asked to be one by Miss Lipponen last week. Back then, I wasn't sure if I could do it. I wasn't sure if I could do anything. All I thought I wanted was to be friends and to be helpful and that was it. But I saw there was more to me than I expected yesterday. And I realized… I underestimated myself. I was scared and it turned out to be for no reason.

"A-as such I'd like to-"

"Yeah Amy, we heard ya! Woohoo! Amy for President!"

Abbie's blurting made everyone jump. But what was seen as premature and inappropriate became readily realized as everyone, after seeing an innocent girl give her honesty, pitched in to lend their voice of support.

"Yeah, got no problems here."
"Hell yeah! She be the captain now!"
"Wouldn't mind Wyker being in charge-"
"-But she's okay, so that's okay."
"It's okay, Amelia. We're all here for you."
"Y-y-you can do it, Amelia!"
"I, Annabelle Victoria Nelson, shall be kind enough to lend you my support!"

"W-we got your back, Amelia!" assured Daniel.
"Can't think of anyone else for the job," added Katrin.

Looking around, Frederick found no words that hadn't already been said. But not wanting to be left out, he thought of something encouraging in light of the such development.

"... You're stronger than I thought, Amelia. And don't you worry, we're all here. We'll be with you all the way."

Now it was her turn to be stunned silent. Amelia didn't know what to say, the show of support unprecedented. Never did she expect so many to give her their encouragements, her: a young girl whom they've only known as a student and member of an incidental interest, a girl who's only interest of note was her name which she felt undeserving. Though she was of the Gunther lineage, Amelia had rarely felt like she belonged, and expectations had convinced her so.

But dipping her toe in uncertain waters of potential, Amelia came to realize that it wasn't all bad. She took a chance and it was all paying off. Her friends, now everyone, were proof of that. Amelia: just an ordinary teenager attending a normal high school, now president of a club she had a hand in starting.

This had been her moment.

And little did Amelia know, this would be far from her last.