Tiegenhoff Offensive VI: Fallen Angels

40 Years after the Great War

Londinium

Although most of the Great powers had taken great lengths to tap into the potential that magic had to offer during times of war, the philosophy of utilising mages was not universal. At the beginning of the war, the Federation was still vehemently against the use of magecraft, viewing its users as holdovers and enforcers from what they viewed as an evil and oppressive regime. Indeed they had invested a great deal into programs boosting other areas of science and technology instead of magecraft. Adopting the philosophy of their state's founder Vladamir Ulyanov that: "Science would always triumph over superstition."

This, in part, led to the battle of Tiegenhoff being described as "a clash between the ideals." With the Empire relying on its highly mobile and skilled aerial mages to supplement their already formidable ground troops, while the communists relied on their advanced aircraft, artillery and superior numbers to counter them.

Looking back, some might be tempted to scoff at this attitude, particularly when nations lacking magical support, like Dacia, had already fallen easily to the Imperial war machine. However, it is important to note that the Federation had already had some success in various border skirmishes with Qing and Akitsushima in the past, despite their lack of magical troops. And that their initial advance into the Empire had been so startlingly fast it seemed as though mages were indeed unnecessary in modern combat. At the time, this philosophy must have seemed to have merit.

However, this isn't to say that the Allied nations did not field any mages in the city, indeed a Commonwealth led international volunteer unit fought valiantly during the siege. Duelling with the Imperial elites and named mages, even while the Federation aircraft were being brutalised by them. These plucky young heroes would go on to achieve many great deeds throughout the war and some scholars believe they came close to tipping the scales in the battle for the city.

However, no one in the Federation command could have predicted how quickly the strategic picture would change along the front and ultimately, that was where the fate of TIegenhoff was being decided.

May 7th Unified Year 1925,

Skies near St Jutta's Cathedral, Tiegenhoff

Mary let out an anguished scream into the smoke and fog amongst the crumbling ruins, her voice the only outlet for the anger and frustration bubbling over in her chest now that she'd lost sight of that Devil. The coward had slithered away at the last moment, causing Mary to take the brunt of the impact as she'd attempted to smash the demon into the building. She swore she would find her however, she couldn't let a monster like her roam free, not now she was so close. Not after everything that monster had done! Not after what she'd said.

"What the Hell did I ever do to you?" The words echoed in her mind, forcing fresh waves of grief-stricken rage to flow through her body. Every syllable uttered by the demon girl acting as a knife through the heart.

Those words had to be a lie, a way of provoking her, or maybe some other trick from the evil monster that a normal girl like her couldn't possibly understand. It was unthinkable she didn't know about Papa, impossible that even a creature as evil as her couldn't understand the pain she'd brought her as she'd ripped him away. Someone who'd caused such atrocities like the Rhine, Arene and Moscau must realise the suffering their actions caused. If even half the stories Mary had heard about her were true, she even revelled in it.

However, the look of confusion and surprise in the demon's eyes had caught her off guard and left a sliver of doubt in her mind. It didn't seem right, throughout their fight it had been the only fragment of emotion she'd seen on the demon's face. It was as though she didn't feel anything at all.

A terrifying possibility crept into her mind, one that grew even more painful the more she thought about it. What if the Devil really didn't care about what she'd done to Papa? What if she was truly unmoved by all the anguish she'd caused and simply believed all life was simply beneath her? God had unconditional love for humanity after all, but was the antithesis really hate? Or was it simply the same dispassion and disregard for human life that the demon showed?

Maybe it wasn't that this girl took joy from her bloody work, it was that she was simply incapable of caring about anyone else. If that were so, she truly was a Devil. No human could live that way.

She spun around quickly, opening fire and yelling once again as a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention, the ensuing explosion causing yet more smog and dust to pollute the air.

How dare she!? How dare she!? She thought as tears formed at the corners of her eyes, memories of her father filling her mind once again and leaving the familiar sharp pain tearing through her chest. Was this girl really so callous that she saw no value of the lives she took? When she'd taken her father, this demon had also destroyed the lives of everyone else in her family, ripped all love from their hearts and left them with nothing but an empty and longing ache. Yet the devil girl had the gall to pretend as though she didn't know what she'd done; didn't care about the damage she'd caused.

No! It was a trick! She was certain of it, another way for the Devil to torture her and all the others she brought pain to.

Just the thought that anyone could be so cruel made it feel as though her skin was on fire, the sense of righteous indignation fuelling her mana reserves all the more as she fired once more into the mist. She had to stop this monster, it couldn't be allowed to live. She believed that God had gifted her the power to fight against the Devil. Given her strength so she could bring her to justice and prevent anyone else from feeling this way. It was the right thing to do, the only way to bring meaning to all the lives the demon had taken, the only way she would ever truly find peace.

The Devil deserved no mercy, no matter what Damian said.

The thought of her friend calmed her a little, if only for a moment. The boy was kind, perhaps too kind, and despite all the horrible actions caused by the Imperials during this war, still called for peace and forgiveness of their enemies. It was difficult for her to understand, but he truly did believe that the Imperials could be redeemed, even after all the evil they'd brought to the world. Part of her loved him for that, even though she knew what he wanted was impossible.

Although he had never said so aloud, she was certain he would be disappointed with her attitude, her desire to avenge her father and the others so unjustly taken from their families. But he couldn't understand the unbearable pain she and so many others had been put through by this devil, no one could, aside from those unfortunate enough to already be her victims. He couldn't see what needed to be done so that both she and the world could start to heal.

The smoky haze was now beginning to clear but she still saw no sign of the blonde fiend. She must have gone into hiding Mary realised with a frown, but she had no intention of letting the demon escape. She growled under her breath, reaching out with her mana as she summoned a detection spell to search for her foe, a lattice of information spreading out before her.

She wouldn't have to wait long.

A blip appeared suddenly across the glowing filigree in front of her, alerting her to a sudden spike in mana nearby. She spun towards it instinctively, allowing the detection matrix to fall away as she raised her weapon to fire upon the target, only to have her own barrier light up in a sudden hail of munition. She grunted, raising an arm to shield her eyes from the flash, but as the light began to fade, she saw the demon floating calmly in the air above.

The devil girl was still some way distant but even from this range she could make out her face. Gone was the overconfident sneer she'd worn in Moscau, so too was the shocked and confused expression from their earlier clash. Now she wore a simple, cold, calculating and apathetic mask, one laced with the same dispassion echoed in her earlier words. It was a stare that cut directly into Mary's soul, exposing her anguish anew, rekindling the fiery rage once more.

A frenzied scream filled her lungs as she launched herself into the air, the desire to charge the demon overriding all other thoughts in her head. Anger once again burned in her breast, crawling just beneath the surface as though her very soul were desperate to leap out of her to attack the source of the contemptuous dispassion. As though every ounce of her being wanted to strike out at the inhuman monster before her.

Part of her knew it must have been a trick, a way to goad her, but she didn't care. She needed to wipe that expression from the devil girl's face, force some offering of remorse from those icy blue orbs. Do something to avenge the souls suffering at the demon's wrath.

The Devil hastily fled from Mary's charge, content to resume their game of cat and mouse around the rooftops of the city. However, Mary's patience with the cowardly monster had worn thin and she fired another optical spell, pouring all of her turbulent feelings into the blast.

She cursed as the monster jinked to one side, feeling another spike of rage as she watched the Devil of the Rhine calmly dodge the beam once more. Everything this creature did was choreographed for the express purpose of mocking her and the memories of those she had hurt.

She fired again, only to have her barrier light up once more as the demon girl returned the gesture, launching herself higher into the air to avoid her blast. Mary cursed again, struggling to reorient herself to keep up her rate of fire on her hated enemy. However the Devil was fast, refusing to stay still long enough for Mary to land a proper hit, and her frustration grew ever more while fresh shots peppered her shield.

Just one hit! One hit is all I need! She told herself firing near constantly in an attempt to bring the fiend down, frustration and anger building more and more with every shot. But time and time again the Devil seemed to dodge and weave, constantly repositioning herself so that she was always in the most difficult position when Mary fired the next shot.

Suddenly the Devil seemed to blur before splitting into three; a decoy spell Mary realised. She growled once again, summoning fresh wells of mana from her reserves as she prepared to fire once more; a wider more destructive spell this time. It didn't matter how many of them there were, or how many tricks the devil girl tried, she would see an end to her.

Light filled the sky, dazzling even her as the beam of mana tore through the air and for the first time in the fight, Mary felt a noticeable dip in her energy reserves as she poured all her feelings into the blast. Not enough to affect her ability to fight, not yet at least, but with a quiet prayer on her lips, she truly felt as though she were giving everything she had to her righteous cause and she could feel the energy being drawn from every corner of her being.

Time seemed to slow and silence filled the air as the beam of mana drew even the sound from the sky as it passed. She let out an excited breath as she watched and a moment of pure elation filled her heart as she watched her optical spell finally strike true. Crackling light washing over the demonic figures, illuminating their silhouettes for a moment before the blinding light swallowed all trace of them. Mary paused in mid-air, peering up into the still dazzling light expectantly, despite the spots in her eyes from the second sun now engulfing the sky, her heart stopping as she prayed that her assault had had the desired effect.

Her hopes that the Devil had fallen were quickly dashed though, as a fresh barrage of shots fired on her from beneath her and Mary turned to see the Rhineland fiend hovering just above the cathedral below. Her previous jubilation transformed back into white-hot rage as she realised she'd been duped, the demon girl was still playing with her. All three of the figures had been decoys, the evil Imperial had used them all as a distraction to gain more distance.

"I won't let you get away!" She roared as she charged once more, closing on her quickly as she squeezed the trigger of her rifle to launch a fresh explosive formula at the devil girl. However, anger quickly transformed into horror as the demon deftly sidestepped the strike once again, allowing the explosion to rip through the church roof, filling God's house with molten lead and falling flames.

Mary screeched in anguish as her momentum took her into the cloud of smoke above the destruction she had created. The Devil had tricked her again, forced her to do her dirty work and attack one of the temples of God himself. The only solace she could draw was that there would have been nobody inside, the Imperials had long evacuated the city; the warmongers preferred not to have witnesses to their crimes.

She halted to get her bearings, letting out a silent prayer for forgiveness as the smoke filled her lungs, coughing and spluttering as both ash and shame burned her chest. The cathedral tower loomed over her, blocking out whatever light the smoke allowed through the haze. However, despite this, Mary felt her breathing ease as she gazed upon the ancient architecture. She felt sure that God would forgive her, He would forgive anything, if she could rid the world of the Devil truly responsible for such carnage.

Her prayer for another chance at the demon was soon answered, as another flash of movement caught Mary's eye and darted behind the tower. Without a thought, Mary summoned up her mana into another optical spell, pouring the fresh shame and anger into the attack. She squeezed the trigger, unleashing a solid ray of light, however, this time she whipped her rifle around as she fired, using the beam like a blade that sliced through the tower with ease.

More smoke and masonry dust filled the air, making it difficult for Mary to tell if she'd landed a hit but she would not have time to wonder as a low rumbling sound cut through the expectant silence in front of her. She brought her eyes up to the shadow in front of her, realising in horror that the tower was falling forward towards her. However, what was worse was the reason for it. Up, near the top of the spire was the little devil girl, still wearing her dispassionate glare, as she shoved her weight into the toppling tower. It was her that was causing this, she was trying to crush her.

There was no time to react as the ancient stonework slammed into her shield pushing her down towards the flame-filled cathedral below. She struggled to slow or turn away the falling spire but to no avail and she quickly found herself trapped between the tower and the cinder-filled ground beneath her.

She let out a fearful cry as her shield shattered as it was squeezed from both sides, leaving her all but defenceless as the antiquated building collapsed on top of her. She curled up into a ball instinctively, letting out another prayer as she allowed all her mana to flow into her body, hoping that with God's grace, it would toughen her enough to survive the pressure from the crumbling building falling on her.

Her body erupted in pain as the rubble struck her and all her senses overwhelmed by the crushing weight and thunderous roar of the collapsing tower. For a moment her consciousness faltered, her brain unable to cope with the agony it was processing. It felt like the fall in Moscau all over again, only this time there was the crumbling stonework pinning her to the ground, adding to the shame of being outwitted by the demon once more.

The sounds of the collapse seemed to stretch on for an eternity as each of her limbs sent agony-filled signals to her brain protesting their treatment, tears mixing with blood as they fell down her cheeks. She could hear her father calling her, telling her it was time to come home and for a moment she could almost feel his hand on hers, leading her gently away.

"Papa." She whispered, wishing it were true, the ache in her heart returning once more. It wasn't true though, she knew there was only one way she would ever meet him again and as much as she dearly wished to see him, she was not ready for that yet. There was still something she needed to do.

Finally, the crashing thunder began to fade and some of the stonework trapping her began to fall away, exposing her face to the air. Reluctantly, and through gritted teeth, she forced her eyes open, and light began to penetrate her world once again, the ruined roof of the cathedral now letting in the sun's rays from outside. She could derive little comfort from this, however, as her enemy still hovered above the temple, radiating the same disgusting impassive aspect as she calmly surveyed the destruction she had wrought.

She became aware of an intense heat surrounding her and through the fog in her brain, she began to realise that the flames from earlier were edging ever nearer to her, already close enough to begin burning her skin. However, she barely registered the lick of the flames as she stared at the distant Devil glaring down at her. She soon realised the pain from the tower too was growing ever more distant, replaced again with the white-hot rage brought by the Devil above.

She watched the demon slowly descend into the remnants of the Lord's house, perhaps deciding to finally finish off her quarry, an act that only served to bolster Mary's indignant rage. By now, all the pain of her injuries had all but disappeared, replaced by the anger wrought by the empty ache in her chest. With strength she did not know she still possessed, she shoved aside the rubble trapping her body, the stiffness in her arms and legs surrendering to her fury-driven will, even as the flames and smoke threatened to swallow her.

She could no longer feel the heat from the blaze surrounding her as she got to her feet, only the righteous desire to put an end to the evil Devil on the other side of the wall of flame. Her gear was destroyed, smashed during the crush, and her flight suit was ripped and singed from the punishment she had suffered. However, her weapon was still intact and she gripped the scolding hot rifle as though it were a gift from God himself as she began taking purposeful steps forward through the fire.

She stared into the fire as she strode forward, her brain void of anything but the desire to punish the creature that had caused so much suffering. Gradually the silhouette of the diminutive demon began to appear through the dancing flames, weapon, her poor father's gun, held casually in her hands, mocking her as she too looked into the fire.

The ache in her chest grew ever more as the flames gave way and revealed more of the Devil's features. Every new sign of dispassion in her expression and stance twisting like a knife through her heart, wrenching the emotional wound open even more. She still wore that damnable uncaring look on her face, one she had no right to wear after all the suffering she'd caused. However, as Mary stepped out of the flames, she won a minor victory as the Devil girl's expression shifted suddenly.

There was shock in those eyes now. There was fear.

She screamed, launching herself at her enemy before the demon could react, wielding her rifle like a club to strike at her hated foe. The Devil's newfound fear spurned her on, vindicated all her actions up until now and she poured all her strength into her blow knowing that this time it would strike true.

The girl's barrier offered almost no resistance, shattering immediately as Mary's rifle butt passed through it, before striking the Demon's arm with a sickening crack and causing it to bend in an unnatural angle. It was not enough to slow the strike however as her strength carried it onwards into the girl's rib cage, a yelp escaping the girl's lips as the surprised demon choked up a mouth full of blood. Finally, the Devil's magically fuelled resistance gave out completely and she was knocked from her feet and sent tumbling across the rubble-strewn stonework floor.

The demon girl let out a pained groan as she coughed and spluttered on the ground but Mary barely registered the noises as her feet took her towards the fallen devil. She moved automatically, her entire body seeming to know precisely what to do, every part of her being subservient to the desire to punish the Devil of the Rhine.

She soon found herself standing over the struggling form of her stunned and broken enemy, feeling nothing aside from cold rage as she used a boot to force the wheezing demon onto her back. The Devil's mask of indifference faltered for a moment, earning Mary another small victory as she saw the flicker of contempt in her eyes. Perhaps even shame.

Good She thought, but you deserve far worse.

In a daze she fell to her knees, straddling the disorientated demon, using her legs to pin the girl's arms in place. She felt her hand ball into a fist, the slight creak of her leather gloves barely audible over the ragged breathing of her enemy. She raised her arm to strike, staring down at the devil girl once more, all of her frustration, anger and shame flowing from the void in her chest as she stared into those loathsome blue eyes.

She let out a yell as she allowed her fist to come crashing down on the stricken girl, the blow landing on her face with a wet thud. She felt her left hand raise itself and repeated the gesture again and again, all her negative feelings escaping her bit by bit with every hit. It wasn't long until the girl was bruised and bleeding but Mary's body continued to pummel the little mage, acting completely on instinct, as though her actions were guided by another.

The Devil struggled to shield herself from the blows, desperate to break free but Mary kept her tightly pinned as she continued to deliver punch after punch onto the evil being that had caused so much misery. Until eventually, the struggling ceased and the Devil ceased moving. Even the whimpers of pain from each blow fell silent as her already swollen eyes fell closed.

Mary shakily got to her feet, swaying slightly as a dizzying sense of euphoria overwhelmed her. She'd won! She had beaten the Devil of the Rhine!

She let out a small laugh as she stood over the fallen demon, her former rage fading away as she gazed down at her triumphantly. Only moments ago their positions had been flipped and the Devil had worn a look that had filled Mary with hate and anger, but now she almost felt numb as the emotional weight fell from her body. It was finally over.

No, not yet. She corrected herself as she looked around for a weapon, there was still one more thing she had to do.

She could no longer see her rifle, she had lost it in the chaos, but she didn't need a bullet to finish the unconscious demon. Awkwardly, and with stiff and protesting muscles aching from overuse, she reached down and picked up a large stone from the fallen tower, grunting with effort as she lifted it over the girl's head. The weight would easily crush her skull, it would be over quickly.

However, despite the weight Mary paused as she stared at the girl's unmoving body, suddenly unable to move as she prepared to throw her strength behind the rock and complete her vengeance. It was strange, now that she lay unconscious, the girl seemed so small and fragile; not at all like the monstrous creature she knew her to be.

She felt a knot in her stomach as she tried to force herself into action but still could not move. This didn't feel right, not at all how she had imagined. Simply killing an unconscious girl, even one as evil as the Devil of the Rhine, didn't feel like justice. It felt more like something she would do.

It felt like murder.

No! It's another trick! She thought, anger at her own weakness flaring up once again as she tried to think of her father, the man the devil had robbed from her. However, his face would not manifest in her thoughts causing more doubt to creep into her mind. Was this really what he would want?

She tried again to grasp the hate she had for this creature, feeling the need to focus on it for the first time in an attempt to drive herself onwards. After all the pain she had put her through, how could she waver now? Yet still she could not move, and rather than the face of her father, she saw the saddened face of Damian fill her thoughts. Not angry or disapproving, simply disappointed; and she knew she was the cause of it.

She spared one final glare at the Devil, tears filling her eyes as she felt the various emotions in her chest fighting each other for supremacy. Before finally, she tossed the rock aside with a furious yell, squeezing her fingers tightly into a fist as she held herself back from attacking the unconscious demon once more.

"You don't deserve such an easy punishment." She growled to herself, part of her still wanting to pick up the rock again and pummel the girl until there was nothing left. But that was not justice. "I'll drag you to every one of your victims to make you understand what you've done! You shouldn't die until you know how they feel!"

She turned away from the Devil girl once more, unwilling to look at the object of her long-held hate any further, and stared at the altar behind her. She almost laughed as she saw that the statue of the saint was still standing upright and watching over them. It made her feel as though she had made the right choice.

By now the flames had begun to die away, while bright soothing sunshine began pouring through the open church roof. It seemed that with the Devil defeated, the world had already begun to heal.

That was a miracle truly deserving of thanks.

May 7th Unified Year 1925

Above Tiegenhoff Castle, Central Tiegenhoff

Visha bit her lip nervously as she ducked back behind a nearby rooftop, narrowly avoiding the hail of fire sent by the volunteer mage that had so expertly stripped her of her shield. Her foe was good, clearly a veteran and he had a whole host of nasty tricks for fighting other mages. It had been all she could do to keep him away from the command centre so far; driving him off or bringing him down completely seemed like an almost impossible task.

It worried her, their duel was dragging on for too long and the magical backwash from all the fighting was making communication difficult, effectively cutting her off from the Major. There had been more of those freakishly strong blasts fired by that scarily strong mage since she'd broken off to engage the new attacker and she wasn't even sure the Commander could survive being hit by something so powerful. The Major would need all the help she could get to bring that monster down, she couldn't leave her without support.

However, she'd been ordered to prevent this guy from reaching General von Sholtz's headquarters, she couldn't even consider leaving while he still posed a threat. Major Degurechaff had trusted that she could do this and she didn't dare let her down. She could only imagine how furious the Major would be if she failed.

Worse still, after days of almost nonstop fighting, she was reaching the limits of exhaustion. She hadn't felt this tired since the 203rd's intensive training course in the Panonnian mountains, maybe even when she'd first served under the then First Lieutenant Degurechaff on the Rhine and nearly collapsed. She knew she couldn't win a protracted fight like this.

She risked a glance out of her cover just as the Commonwealth mage darted out of his own. Hastily, she brought about her weapon and fired, scoring several more hits on her target, forcing him to hide behind another damaged building as his own magical barrier began to waver under the pressure.

Her enemy was being cautious, moving from rooftop to rooftop, gradually edging himself closer to the command centre. He was completely focused on his mission, much like the Major, and he wasn't allowing himself to be distracted by Visha's attempts to slow him down. That concerned her, she was certain that if the Major had been in his position, she would have been considering whether it was worth continuing to split her attention between Visha and the command centre. She would put some serious consideration into whether it would be easier to deal with Visha's resistance before making her strike instead of trying to push through. If that were the case, she might be on the receiving end of a far more determined attack. Could she beat him if he switched focus and targeted her instead? She wasn't sure.

Even if he decided against it, it wouldn't do much to help her situation. If he continued his gradual advance along the rooftops, he would eventually reach the General's refuge and there was no telling how much chaos he could cause if he were allowed to score a hit. She needed to do something quickly or the Major would have her head.

She frowned apprehensively. She wasn't used to fighting like this; her training strictly focused on operating in a unit, flight pairs at a bare minimum. Only artillery observers flew alone and they were usually under orders to flee at the first sign of trouble. She'd always been taught flying alone was dangerous and foolish, an idea drummed into her head a hundred times over by the Major when they'd been on the Rhine. Although she'd built up a reasonable amount of combat experience serving alongside Major Degurechaff, it was all built on the idea that the pair of them would watch each other's backs, she had almost no experience fighting one-on-one.

This sort of duel just seemed reckless for someone like her. People like the Major or Prince Wilhelm were far better at this sort of fighting; the prince especially. He often surged ahead and fought almost completely unsupported, he'd even managed to triumph over the Major in a friendly duel. Although admittedly it had been a close-run thing. He would doubtless have hundreds of tricks to beat mages like this.

I doubt I'd be able to pull off something like that, I don't even have a sword. Besides, the Major is always lecturing him about how reckless he is. She thought, butterflies in her stomach betraying how nervous she was about facing this mage head-on. What would she do in this situation?

She risked another glance out of cover, trying to judge the position of her enemy. Ideally, it would be best to force him out of cover with an artillery spell. However, it was dangerous to fire off an explosion in the close confines of the rooftops. If her aim was off, even by a little bit, it could trigger prematurely and she might get caught in it.

What she needed was height and distance so she could force him out of his cover and attack once he was out in the open. Her orb and flight equipment had an advantage over the Commonwealth-style gear when it came to speed and altitude, once he was out in the open she would be able to press that advantage. However, she was sure to be fired on the moment she broke cover. This mage didn't seem like he would give up the opportunity to take her down if he was given the chance.

A buzzing in her ears and a feeling of static in the air broke her from her thoughts. Someone was sending a transmission she realised, an impressive feat considering all the magical interference caused by all the fighting. It must have been from someone relatively close by, within the city limits at least; the mana wash from the freakishly strong mage the Major was fighting would scramble anything from outside.

Unfortunately, the signal was encrypted and she couldn't listen in, only serving to increase the unease in the pit of her stomach. Even the Major had expected the enemy to finally cut through the city defences eventually, was this the enemy signalling to their allies that they'd succeeded?

She was running out of time, she had to act now.

She took a deep breath before drawing from her well of mana, mentally processing the calculations as a clone of herself flickered into life in front of her. The Major put a great amount of stock in decoy formulas. She'd often heard her joke that it was better the enemy waste their ammo on a fake version of her rather than the real thing, and she'd made sure that all of them in the 203rd were well versed in their use. The only downside was that she always warned that a decent mage could easily see through them. Fortunately, Prince Wilhelm had offered a solution to that problem during his and the Major's practice bout. One that even someone as shrewd and professional as the Major had not been able to see through immediately.

She allowed the decoy to slip over the top of her, wearing it like a second skin over herself. In this form, it would offer no protection or even a distraction, at least not until she sprung her trap. However, it did give her the best chance of throwing the Commonwealth veteran off his game.

She launched herself upwards, accelerating as fast as possible as she readied an artillery spell and searched for the hiding place of her foe. As expected, she immediately came under fire from the Albion mage, her barrier lighting up as he took advantage of what must have seemed like a reckless break from cover. However, she now knew his exact location, and would have enough height to safely rain down an explosion on him, all she needed now was to be sure she wouldn't be taken out herself before she could take her shot.

She reversed her acceleration, feeling the G forces pull at her stomach as she came to a screeching halt. Meanwhile, the decoy that had been covering her carried on flying upward, drawing the fire of the Commonwealth mage as his training bid him follow what had once been her trajectory. Shots passed through the hologram as the man fired on the fake, giving Visha enough time to power up her explosion spell and squeeze the trigger.

The Albion mage realised his mistake almost immediately, taking evasive action even as the artillery strike erupted as it hit the half-broken chimney he'd been hiding behind, sending shockwaves and debris through the air. She switched gears and began firing penetration formula at him as he struggled to keep his balance and attempted to outrun the worst of the blast, his shield cracking under the weight of fire before finally collapsing completely.

She felt confident that she'd managed to outwit him, certain that a few more well-placed shots would be enough to put the mage out of commission. However, the Albion evidentially still had one more trick up his sleeve and did the one thing that Visha had not expected any normal aerial mage to do when faced with such a situation.

He charged.

Visha forced down the sudden panic as fresh fire struck her shield, a mix of mana depletion, fatigue and the man's previous attacks causing it to shatter almost instantly. She hastily returned fire, readying herself for the possibility of hand-to-hand combat as the mage raced towards her and she scored a glancing hit that left a streak of blood leaking from his arm. However, he jinked nimbly aside and moved too quickly for Visha to land a killing blow.

Her rifle clicked as the magazine emptied and she reflexively reached for her combat knife as the Albion closed, expecting her foe to do the same. However, Visha found her eyes widening in surprise and alarm as a grenade appeared in the man's hand.

She began accelerating away, trying to gain some distance as she scrambled to re-raise her barrier. Due to a mage's mobility, grenades were all but useless against them and were usually only carried as anti-personnel weapons for supporting ground troops. She could only think of one reason why one would be used in mage-to-mage combat. It was a suicide run! He was going to let it explode as he charged!

However, much to her surprise, he quickly tossed it at her, pouring a little mana into the throw to give it extra distance causing her to yelp as she increased her speed to escape the blast radius. The grenade exploded and a blinding flash filled her vision. It hadn't been a normal fragmentation grenade, but a flash bomb! Another one of the Albion's nasty tricks! One that now left her uniquely vulnerable as she was left temporarily blinded in the air.

She braced herself for the next attack, too fearful to move while her vision was impaired but painfully conscious she was out in the open. She funnelled as much mana as she could into her shield, offering a silent prayer that she wouldn't be quickly overwhelmed while she was out of action. She had never experienced anything like that, she hadn't even considered anything like that was possible, let alone against an aerial target. She'd underestimated him, the Major would doubtlessly chastise her for her carelessness.

Her eyes began to readjust as she waited fearfully for the next blow, white spots appearing across her vision. However, it never came and instead she heard the whir from his flight gear begin to grow distant as he sped away.

She turned in the direction of the command centre, rubbing her eyes in an effort to hasten her recovery, however, she could see no sign of him as she searched both skies and rooftops for him. She looked around in confusion before finding his shrinking silhouette disappearing into the distance, heading away from General von Sholtz and the command group.

He was no longer targeting them, or even her. He was heading towards the Major.

May 7th Unified Year 1925,

Ruins of Tiegenhoff Financial district, Tiegenhoff

"You have been lost, Brother Wilhelm." The boy whispered softly, offering his hand as he looked at Will imploringly. "Will you allow yourself to be found?"

The world seemed to fall silent as Will stared at the outstretched hand, still shaking with fear, expecting the offered appendage to strike him at any moment. He struggled to comprehend what was happening; his throat was dry, his head throbbing painfully. He felt dizzy and nauseous, and far too weak to defend himself anymore. He had been certain that the final blow was coming, the one that would put an end to this miserable existence.

So why had the reflection hesitated?

Slowly, he raised his gaze towards the face of his attacker once again, only to be greeted by the same unnatural and beguiling smile that the boy had worn before he started preaching. The power that had pinned him seemed to retreat, still close, as though lying in wait, but some of the unearthly weight was lifted from him and the sickening yellow was now absent from the boy's eyes. Replaced instead by the jade orbs that had enraptured him before, studying him with a hopeful expression.

Confusion fought fear for dominance in his fatigued and overwhelmed mind. What was happening? What did this thing want? Why hadn't it killed him? The questions swirled around his already befuddled thoughts, making the dizziness feel all the worse as his brain desperately searched to make some sense of the situation. The confusion feeding the sickening fear that already felt as though it were eating him from the inside out.

"You can be saved, Wilhelm. You can be found!" The boy said as he knelt in front of him bringing himself level with Will's face. The boy reached out further and Will tried to shrink away, but rather than hurt him the boy gently wiped a fearful tear from Will's cheek. "Sins cannot be forgotten, but they can be forgiven."

Both Will's head and heart ached as the boy continued to speak in riddles. Saved? Sins? Be found? What are you talking about? What is this? Will felt like screaming those words as he tried his best to process what he was being told but he couldn't find the energy to break his gaze from the doppelganger.

Again, his expression lacked any hint of malice, not even a sliver of violent intent, only a calm expectation as he waited for an answer from him. All this only served to further compound Will's confusion as he processed the boy's words. He couldn't even understand what he was being asked. It almost sounded as though he were being offered another way out.

"You can be forgiven, Willhelm. The repentant can always be forgiven!" The boy repeated as Will stared at him dumbly. Was it really possible that the debt collector was willing to negotiate for his life? Was he being offered a stay of execution? Only moments ago, he would have dismissed the idea out of hand. The boy had shot him out of the air to prevent his escape, how could he possibly believe he would show any mercy? Yet here he was, kneeling face to face with him, offering the tiniest sliver of hope.

"But it must be your choice." He continued, his face turning more serious as he spoke. "He gifted you that freedom so that you could make such a decision for yourself."

"My choice?" He mouthed in a whisper as the boy's eyes continued to fix him in place. He felt like a drowning man who'd been given a breath of air and a lifeline to pull himself to safety. For a moment, the fear began to dissipate as the boy's words replayed in his mind over and over again and his heart began to calm in his chest. It didn't need to be over. He could have more time to pay the debt, he could still gain his happiness and freedom. Gift that same happiness to those he cared about. He could still get what he desired! What he deserved! He just had to reach out and take it; accept the deal that God's debt collector was offering.

"But ask yourself my dear brother, what are you willing to pay?" A new, familiar, voice echoed around the ruined bank, the sound of a sadistic smile colouring its tone. "Or rather, what are you willing to give up?"

No, no! Not now! Will cried internally as a rush of panic returned to him. I can't deal with you as well!

Will did his best to ignore the cruel laughter of Ludwig's spectre as it echoed around the brick dust and ruins, not willing to risk taking his eyes off the debt collector to search for his once brother. He couldn't keep the alarm from his face however, and the boy's expression seemed to change for a moment, his soft smile hesitating as a glimmer of concern reached his features.

"You had to pay a thousand lives just to get this far, do you really think He'll be generous when it comes to a reprieve?" The spirit continued, his silhouette emerging from the shadows behind the boy.

Will felt a lump in his throat. He didn't want to listen, but he knew the ghost was right. He'd already made himself a murderer to pay the evil deity's tally, the price for a stay of execution would no doubt be high. In truth, he wasn't sure if he could even manage to pay the cost of the original debt. He'd never really understood the rules and a death did not always increase the number on the sword. But what choice did he have? He had to pay the debt to survive and if he had to accept the little bailiff's offer for the same reason, so be it.

"Wilhelm?" The boy pressed, seemingly unaware of the vindictive apparition behind him. Will found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes away from the spectre as he loomed behind God's messenger. Despite the fear he had of the boy in front of him, Ludwig's presence was somehow worse, his vicious mockery eating away at him with every word.

"A thousand! Such hubris little brother!" Ludwig continued, spitting out the familial word with venomous contempt. "Do you really believe that a monster like you is worth all that?"

I'm worth a thousand of them! Another life's memory echoed through his mind and fresh tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. He had believed that once, before the war had started, before the rules of the debt had been called into question, before he'd seen the faces of those he was forced to kill. Now he wasn't so sure, particularly since all his worth in this world was based on a lie.

"You oversold yourself and can't hope to pay the price!" the ghost laughed mockingly, leaning over the debt collector's shoulder causing Will to flinch once again. "Any future deal would mean quality over quantity, yes? Something special! How else could you guarantee payment?"

The unnatural messenger broke his stare for a moment, glancing over towards the phantom with a frown, before returning his gaze back towards him. Will cursed himself inwardly. The ghost was a manifestation of his stress, there was no way the boy could see him, he must have noticed him glancing towards the apparition. He desperately wished Ludwig would disappear, or at least be quiet. He forced his eyes to focus on the debt collector once more, desperately trying to ignore the spectre and hoping that his faux brother hadn't destroyed his only chance of survival.

However, as always, Ludwig would not allow him his moment of peace, and after a quick glance towards God's bailiff, he shot Will another baleful grin before taking a step to his side, causing the features of both his demons to overlap strangely in front of him. Now Will was greeted by a new horror as their faces twisted and merged in his eyes. The soulful, concerned eyes of God's negotiator worn on the same face as the sadistic cruel grin of the ghost that mocked his every step.

"But who would be equal to the hefty price of your soul?" Ludwig continued contemptuously,the words now seeming to come from the messenger's mouth. "Christina? Damaged beyond repair because of you. Sophia perhaps? What about you're little friend Degurechaff? You've become quite fond of her haven't you?"

"Shut up!" Will whispered squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the terrible chimera staring down at him, yet a treacherous part of him knew that Ludwig was right. The monstrous God had never shown him any kindness, there were always consequences! Everything had come at a cost! The monster had already forced him to sacrifice Letzenbourg to the Empire, taken Hausmann and maimed Christina. It had already tried to take the others too; the remnants of his happiness. They were the only thing a vicious God like Him wouldwant from him. After all, He wanted him to suffer.

"Please, Wilhelm! I only want to help you! You can be saved!" The boy pleaded, shaking him gently by the shoulders, forcing his eyes open once more. Again, the soulful eyes bored into him, forcing the spectre out of focus for a moment as they radiated concern and empathy. Part of him desperately wanted to believe him. Until the cruel smile of Ludwig reappeared on his face, adding the words: "for a price."

Something inside Will snapped in that moment, the constant strain on his mind finally taking its toll, as pure unrestricted rage flashed through his mind. His brain surrendered all rational thought as pure primal instinct took over and, with a feral snarl, he leapt forward at the twin faces of his tormentors, knocking God's bailiff to the ground.

The debt collector yelped in surprise as he fell onto his back, raising his previously outstretched hand in front of him to shield himself as Will savaged him with his bare hands. Will moved without thought as the sea of red rage puppeted his body, driving him towards barbaric violence. Scratching, biting and even clawing at the little bailiff in a show of crazed anger.

He almost was nothing more than a spectator in his own body as he attacked the boy like a wild animal. Fear and rage driving him onwards as his rational self retreated into the corners of his mind, however, he still maintained enough of himself to focus his blows. Balling his hands into fists as he began hammering at his doppelganger's face. His own face. He couldn't stand to see it anymore, he needed to get rid of it. Smash the mirror that held those sorrowful eyes and terrible smile.

He smashed his fists into the clone again and again as his foe desperately tried to shield himself and push Will away from him. Several of the blows were turned away in the struggle, with one causing Will's fist to instead shatter his hand against the concrete floor with a sickening crack. He did not feel the pain of the broken hand however, nor his previous injuries, as the rage-induced adrenalin bid him to keep up the assault and slowly, but surely, the face of the boy beneath him became a mangled and bloody mess.

The boy's guard weakened and Will saw an opening around his copy's neck. In a flash, Will had his remaining good hand around the collector's throat and squeezed with all his might, heart burning with the desire to rid himself of God's messenger once and for all. The boy began to struggle more fervently beneath, using his hands to try to push him away, but Will redoubled his efforts. Finally feeling as though he had the upper hand against the supernatural beings that had tried so hard to break him.

"Will…helm! Pl…ease!" The boy wheezed, only causing another flash of white-hot anger to flow through Will's body. He quickly shifted his position, bringing himself closer to his tormentor's face and releasing his grip for a moment, only to replace the pressure on the boy's windpipe with his forearm instead. Using all his body weight to crush the boy's larynx.

Will stared into the eyes of God's messenger once again, feeling a shred of triumph break through the red mist as he realised how thoroughly their positions had reversed. He was now the one in charge and now the divine pawn was the one who needed to beg for mercy! However, a small flash of yellow reflected in those hated irises stole it from him in an instant, and panic quickly caused Will to direct every ounce of his strength towards the messenger's throat. He could not allow this thing an opening, not again!

Gradually, the boy's struggles became weaker and weaker as the light began to fade from his eyes. Rather than the despised yellow glow that Will had learned to dread, only the soulful green remained, gradually becoming duller as the life drained away from them. The anger began to recede as the boy's body lost its strength beneath him, his rational mind returning to him while the life of God's bailiff slowly decayed before his eyes.

He became aware of how quiet it was. The fighting was distant, the thudding of the guns seeming quiet compared to the sounds of muffled strangulation echoing strangely around the ruins. He stared into the eyes once more, feeling suddenly afraid now the shield of rage had receded. He felt cold and had to suppress a shiver as a strange sharp pang of grief filled his chest. The sorrowful eyes continued to bore into him, slowly dimming but losing none of their power. Part of him felt as though he had lost something.

"I…m…sor..ry." The boy whispered with his last gasps, tears forming as he stared up at him remorsefully before finally, the last spark died in his eyes, his eyelids falling closed soon after as the struggling finally ceased.

Will shakily removed himself from the body and leant back against the wall of the bank, trembling slightly as he realised the enormity of what had just happened. He'd won! Killed the monstrous God's debt collector and earned himself more time without having to resort to another Faustian bargain! He may have even annulled the debt completely! After all, this had been the monster's pawn and He hadn't stepped in to retaliate against him. Perhaps He'd given up.

"Am I free? Have I won?" He whispered to himself dreamily, half laughing despite the sharp pain from his side.

A soft gurgle from the body of the doppelganger broke him from his reverie, stopping the insidious thought in its tracks as it sent a sudden surge of panic across his battered soul. He wanted to believe it was nothing more than a death rattle from the clone, he'd seen enough dead bodies to know that they made all sorts of unpleasant noises after the body ceased living. A noise like this shouldn't be out of the ordinary.

However, this was not a normal being. He'd seen Tanya fill this monster with lead and he had kicked and beaten his seemingly lifeless corpse before leaving him for dead in a river; yet he'd still returned for him. He needed to be sure this time. It was the only way to save everyone! The only way to be free!

His eye caught a glimpse of a soft shimmer at the far side of the room and, after a moment of allowing his fog-filled brain to focus on it, he recognised the hilt of his sword protruding out of a pile of rubble. For the first time since receiving the cursed blade, he found himself smiling when he saw it. Had he not been so opposed to the evil deity, he might have thought it a gift from God.

Who'd have thought I'd ever be happy to see you? He chuckled internally as he struggled to get to his feet, grunting with effort as his body protested at the movement. He staggered across the room, fixated on the blade despite the shooting pain and ragged breathing that wracked his body. Feeling a moment of excited anticipation as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the weapon and freed it from the rubble. The muscles in his arm ached as he lifted the sword up to his eyes expectantly, a flicker of hope that the number would be forever erased providing the energy to move.

He studied it a moment before his smile vanished and his arm fell, causing the blade to clang loudly against the concrete floor at his feet. It was still there. The monster still expected payment for the debt.

Fine. He thought, a fresh twitch of anger boiling in him as he turned to look at the fallen form of God's bailiff once again. Perhaps it was too much to expect that the monstrous God would leave him alone completely, but at least he'd earned a reprieve. He was about to make sure of that.

He began to haul himself back towards the boy, staggering slightly while the sword scraped along the ground leaving a mark along the concrete. He focused on the fallen seraph searching for signs of life, fearing the unnatural creature might suddenly return to life in front of him, but the boy remained quiet and unmoving. Finally, he reached his target and for a moment, he felt a pang of sadness as he stood over the boy, but he quickly pushed it aside, smothering it with the hatred he'd built up over the course of his young life. This was His debt collector after all, he deserved this.

"Faithful souls."He said to himself feeling a caustic and humourless grin pull at his face as he raised the blade over the boy's chest, taking care to aim directly over his heart. "I wonder if this monster's only worth one?"

He raised the blade, ignoring the ache in his arm as he prepared the death blow, feeling a moment of vindicated euphoria as he finally had the chance to gain a measure of retribution against the monster for everything it had put him through.

"Do you really have the right to call anyone else a monster after that little display?"

Will whipped around instinctively, a fresh surge of fear-filled adrenaline blocking the pain as he readjusted the grip on his sword and brought it up defensively. His frown deepened. He'd hoped that voice had died along with the divine messenger at his feet.

"All that scratching and screeching! Wild beasts have more finesse. If you were a dog, they'd think you rabid and put you down." Ludwig chuckled as he perched upon the rubble that Will had liberated his sword from. The ever-present cruel grin plastered across his face while his icy blue eyes pierced into him like a knife.

It was not the same as when he had shared the face of the boy below, the eyes showed no kindness this time, instead, he wore the same gaze as he had in life; cold and disdainful. Unlike in life, however, the ghost didn't try to hide it and never turned his gaze away from him.

"Shut up!" Will growled at the spectre, his fingers whitening as he tightened his grip on his sword. Out of the two tormentors, it was his false brother that he'd prefer to plunge his blade into. However, unlike the boy at his feet, Ludwig had not learned the trick to resurrection. Part of him wished he had. It was a pity the regent could only die once. "It's your fault! You're the one that provoked me!"

"Then shouldn't you be thanking me?" The spirit chuckled derisively. "You were cowering on the floor before then. Didn't my intervention save you from a dangerous and terrifying threat?"

The cruel grin grew further and Will found himself shaking with indignation. Perhaps it was the fatigue but he was finding it much more difficult than usual to ignore the spirit and it felt as though his words were cutting deeper, each verbal barb twisting in his chest.

"A child armed with kind eyes and an open hand. How frightening it must have been for you! Fortunate no one was around to see the Saint's true cowardice."

Will bit his lip, silently cursing Ludwig and catching a retort in his throat as another white flash of anger shot through him at the man's words. He knew there was no point arguing with the spectre, but it didn't make it any easier not to rise to his ridicule. He always had to twist the facts, belittle his efforts and taunt him for any perceived failure. It was maddening.

He took a breath and tried his best to ignore the grinning man as he turned towards the messenger and raised his sword once again. He might not be able to silence Ludwig, but he'd be damned if he was going to give the monster's pawn a chance to walk away from here once again.

He stared down at his unmoving mirror, unable to move as the blade hovered over his chest. Despite the injuries the boy had taken, Will could still see his own face lying motionless before him. The thought of stabbing him only made his nausea worse as he imagined their positions reversed and he felt a phantom pain in his chest at the thought of it. He couldn't bear to look at him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting another bout of mockery from the spirit as he prepared himself for the strike, however, Ludwig remained silent for once and the only noise that could be heard was Will's own laboured breathing. Part of him wished the ghost would speak, if only to refuel his rage and make this easier on him. For some reason his earlier fear and anger had fled from him, fatigue beginning to consume what was left.

With a grunt of effort, he plunged the blade downwards, wincing as he heard it pierce the messenger's chest, before ripping it free and collapsing to the floor in exhaustion. He did not bother to look at the boy, he didn't even bother to open his eyes. He was too terrified of what he would see. He tried to take a breath to calm himself, trying his best to ignore the sharp pain in his side. It was done, he'd won.

"Quiet here isn't it?" Ludwig commented idly. Will did his best to ignore it. "The fighting must have moved on. Who do you think won?"

Will reluctantly opened his eyes fog clouding his mind as he stared at the clouds passing overhead. He was both mentally and physically exhausted and had no interest in further entertaining the spirit's games any further. However, something in the spectre's words clawed at his brain. It was too quiet. Far quieter than it should have been. He hesitantly turned his head to stare at Ludwig once more, the man's grin still frozen as he stared casually back at him and a cold dread began to creep through Will's body.

There had been a reason he'd been rushing in the first place. A reason he'd been ambushed. The sickening power that he's felt from across the battlefield. There had been another one of God's agents in the air, and he hadn't been the target.

"Tanya!"

May 7th Unified Year 1925,

Ruins of St Jutta's Cathedral, Tiegenhoff

Tanya's eyes flickered back into focus as she wheezed and struggled for breath, feeling blood bubbling in her lungs as the injuries the berserker had inflicted took their toll on her body. The beast's beat down had been savage and feral, each strike carrying the madness in her eyes and delivering it with each blow. She cursed herself for allowing herself to be taken off guard by the deranged mage, she'd had a responsibility to see that this mad dog was put down but the sight of the creature striding from the flames had stunned her into innaction and she'd gotten careless. It was all Tanya had been able to do to stay conscious but fortunately Being X's pawn had made an unforgivable mistake.

She hadn't finished her task. Tanya was still alive.

Her body was awash with pain, and it took all her willpower to ignore it as she reached behind her for her combat knife. The berserker had left her for dead on the floor and was now staring dumbly at the statue of one of Being X's avatars atop the altar, perhaps giving thanks to the creature that had cursed her.

Tanya tried to force herself up, wincing as fire erupted down her side and silently cursing as her left arm refused to move, instead hanging limply at her side. Again, she pushed aside the agony of her wounds, instead focussing on her target as she launched her knife at her, embedding it in the beast's shoulder with a wet thud.

She cursed as she got back to her feet, swaying slightly from both fatigue and injuries, feeling as though her body was ready to fall apart at the seams. It had been a decent shot, knife throwing was not exactly one of her best skills, and certainly not something she'd felt the need to practice since passing basic training. However, it was still a satisfying act of defiance against the rabid beast and it was pleasing to see the blade biting so deep into her foe. It hadn't been a kill shot, however. Fortunately, that did not matter, it had gotten the beast's attention.

The Entente barbarian turned back towards her, no trace of pain on her face as she returned her glare back towards her, she was too far gone to feel it, however, there was a look of confused shock stained across her features. Their eyes met for a moment, Tanya's pain-filled eye conveying the contempt she felt for the berserker that her injured body could not while the creature continued to stare back at her like a vacant dumb animal.

Finally, the monster's overriding illogical self retook control and the crazed brute's expression contorted into that of a vicious beast once more. A yellow glow returning to her eyes as she let out a ferocious scream and began to charge anew.

Tanya raised her pistol. One shot, one bullet directly between those venomous eyes was all she needed. She doubted that even Being X could save someone from a bullet in the brain and the beast's instinctive and irrational charge had left her unprotected and without time to react. She hadn't even bothered to re-raise her protective barrier.

It was over.

She squeezed the trigger but in the moment before the weapon fired, the world seemed to explode around her. The doors behind her suddenly blew apart, forcing her to whip her head around in alarm as they ripped themselves from the hinges, bursting into a cloud of razor-sharp splinters as a great force struck them. Masonry too was shattered and rubble scattered across the chamber, the violent entry into the temple tearing the bricks from the archway with incredible force. At the epicentre of the devastation was a figure engulfed in the familiar bright lattice of light, a magical barrier. A figure that had clearly been moving at great speed before it struck the entrance, causing the fresh destruction around her.

The figure's shield stuttered and crumbled under the pressure of the impact, their flight faltering before failing completely, causing them to crash violently onto the stone floor. The mage skidded across the ground, smashing into a row of pews to her side, tearing a great gash through the chapel as they scraped along the floor before finally coming to a stop by the feet of Being X's puppet in a cloud of dust.

Both she and the Entente beast froze for a fraction of a second, surprise at the sudden intrusion overriding the thoughts of both her rational mind and the corrupted feral instincts of her attacker. It took a moment for her brain to catch up with events but soon it was clear that she recognised the stricken figure groaning on the floor. A mix of confusion and concern hit her, closely followed by the familiar sense of annoyance that usually accompanied the boy's presence. She opened her mouth to question him but was again shocked as the sound of her bestial assailant's voice echoed around the hall instead.

"Damian?"

Surprised, Tanya raised her head back towards Being X's pawn, her aim still trained on her target, and for the first time, she saw something other than dumb confusion or wild rage in the girl's face. The unnatural glow in her eyes flickered for a moment as she stared down at the collapsed form of the little captain with undisguised confusion and concern. It was as though she knew him.

Tanya squeezed the trigger once more and the sound of the gunshot echoed around the ruins of the church before falling silent. The Entente mage remained motionless for a moment, not seeming to notice the impact, as she stared at the boy at her feet. However, finally, blood began to stain her uniform creating a slowly growing pool on her chest.

Tanya swore internally, cursing her mistake as she quickly began firing again, emptying the clip into her foe. Wilhelm's interruption had caused her aim to slip as she'd instinctively turned during his entrance. As a result, a quick and clean death had turned into an inelegant mess as the rabid creature took shot after shot to the torso. Tanya couldn't risk pausing to readjust her aim however, she wasn't sure if Being X's influence would allow her the luxury of the time and it was entirely possible the berserker could recover if given even such a small opportunity.

Again, the mage did not seem to react to the hail of fire unleashed on her however, instead, her eyes stayed fixated on Wilhelm as he groaned in pain at her feet, still struggling to recover from his dramatic entry. Tanya heard a soft click from her weapon, signalling that her magazine was empty, and only then did the wretched mage seem to notice her injuries, looking down as the multitude of wounds peppering her body oozed more red ichor down her battered and ragged uniform.

She looked back at Tanya in shock, blood beginning to trickle from her mouth as she took a single, shaky step forward. It was too much for her shattered body however and her legs no longer held the strength to carry her, causing her to collapse to her knees in front of the groaning little captain.

Tanya staggered forward, ignoring the aches and pains from her wounds as she struggled to slip a fresh clip into her pistol. By now she felt dizzy, the combination of her injuries and fatigue, along with the acrid stench of fire and sulphur, had started to catch up with her. However, she still had a job to do and she was determined to see it through.

"…Dam...ian?" The girl whispered as Tanya carefully took aim at the fallen berserker's head once again. The girl's eyes staring almost blankly at the stricken form of Wilhelm as he tried to recover from his crash. Evidentially, the girl had mistaken him for someone else and part of Tanya couldn't help wondering about who it might be. The mere thought of this Damian had brought this feral beast back from the haze of madness, if only for a second. Somehow it felt right that this wretched creature would be free of Being X's baleful influence at the end. Even this monster deserved that much.

Then the world exploded again. This time in a kaleidoscope of coloured glass as yet another intruder entered the Cathedral, smashing through the stained-glass window above the altar. The figure fired at her as he charged, and Tanya hastily re-raised her barrier to protect herself from the new threat, uncertain if she had the energy or time left to protect herself from the fresh onslaught. She would not get the chance to find out however, as Wilhelm, finally recovered from his abrupt entrance, leapt forward and knocked her to the ground, clear from the hail of fire.

Tanya swore in pain as her body protested its treatment, the impact enough to send fresh waves of agony throughout her abused body. She knew she didn't have time to waste however, and she quickly shoved the boy aside and attempted to prepare herself for another attack from the new challenger.

More gunshots rang out, from outside of the cathedral this time, as the figure hastily scooped up the fallen berserker and sped through the open roof and off into the sky. Tanya fired off a couple of shots at the retreating enemy, already knowing it was all but futile, however by now she was too fatigued to do anything more to prevent their escape.

She grimaced with a strange mix of relief and frustration washed over her. She was in no state to give chase and she was more than happy to be out of combat. Besides, although there were no rules about gunning down a fleeing enemy, the laws of war looked down on the killing of injured soldiers. At least the Commonwealth ones that were subject to the pre-war treaties.

The sound of mana-fuelled flight gear filled the air as Visha's silhouette appeared in the great arch that had been the window, her eyes searching for the same intruder that had so rudely interrupted them. Evidentially, it had been her firing on the Entente monster's rescuer, she must have succeeded in keeping the enemy away from the command post.

At least there's some good news to come out of all this. She thought, wincing slightly and leaning on one of the ruined pews as the pain from her injuries began to overpower the adrenaline that had been keeping it at bay. She was going to be very sore soon, she was certain of it.

The Lieutenant glanced up at the escaping Commonwealth mage, ready to give pursuit but paused for a moment as she noticed her and Wilhelm below. Fortunately for Tanya, the girl had never developed quite as much blood lust as the rest of the 203rd and her first instinct was to report back to her commander, rather than chase after the wounded enemy.

"Sorry Ma'am, he gave me the slip. Should I start persui…" Visha began nervously, as she lowered herself to the ground to give her report, pausing with wide eyes as she closed. "You're hurt! Prince Wilhelm too! I'll call for a medic straight away!"

"No time." Wheezed Wilhelm using his sword to help himself stagger to his feet, Tanya getting a decent look at the boy for the first time since he had arrived.

Blood trickled from an ugly wound on his head, the matted knots of dried ichor and discolouration of his silvery blonde hair telling her he'd been nursing the injury for some time before his crash. Meanwhile his flight suit, not unlike her own at this point, was ragged, singed and dirty, showing obvious signs of recent combat, as well as tears along one side caused by his ignominious entrance. He also cradled his side awkwardly, breathing raggedly as he spoke. It was clear the little captain had been through an ordeal of his own since they had last met, he looked almost as wretched as she felt was, not to mention exhausted.

However, it was his eyes that attracted her attention the most. At first, they seemed hazy and indistinct, further proof that the boy had suffered some sort of head injury. However, as his gaze swept over her, a flicker of shock and worry snapped them back into focus and a familiar, fearful spark returned to the depths of his stare, causing her an involuntary shiver.

His eyes contained the same desperation and pain that she'd seen and discounted in him time and time again. However, her recent brush with Being X's insane pawn, and realisation that had come with it, meant that suddenly she couldn't help but be unnerved by it. She now realised it held the beginnings of the same cruel and unbridled hatred worn by the man whose irrational actions had brought the Salaryman to this world. As well as by the beast who'd just tried to end her life in it.

"We need to leave." The boy growled, the spark of fear in his eyes growing into an inferno for a moment as he hastily sheathed his sword and grasped Tanya by the hand in an attempt to drag her away. "Now!"

A flash of terror ran through her and she jerked back from him instinctively. Surprising even herself as she snatched her hand away, despite her body's protests against the sudden movement. She couldn't be afraid of Wilhelm, could she? True they'd had a complicated history but it was impossible that he could affect her so. Even if he did wear those eyes, this was Wilhelm she was dealing with, not Being X or the Entente beast.

It was a simple autonomic response. She told herself; her true, rational self forcing down this strange new discomfort. Something about considering Wilhelm a threat on anything but a theoretical level was oddly distressing. Likely exacerbated by my injuries and the high tensions of combat. It's entirely natural considering how overworked I've been.

She tried to force herself to be calm once again, wincing as the pain in her side reminded her of her untreated wounds. Now was not the time to be worrying about this nonsense, they had a job to do. Besides, the boy shouldn't even be here, he was supposed to be holding the southwest salient for the breakout attempt.

"Wilhelm? What the Hell are you?..." She began, almost pleased to return to the familiar pattern of rebuke that dominated so many of their interactions, but she paused as she saw the new expression worn on his face. He looked hurt. Not through the pain of his injuries, although it was clear he was only managing to keep that from his face through gritted teeth, but a look of pained heartbreak now replaced the fear that had burned in his eyes.

Again she found the boy's eyes deeply troubling as a feeling she couldn't quite describe welled up in her stomach. In some ways, it was worse than when he'd worn the maddening expression of the Salaryman's former employee or Tanya's Entente enemy. That at least she'd begun to understand. This, however, was something different.

The boy's hurt expression lingered for a moment more and Tanya found it increasingly difficult to meet the disappointed gaze. However, it was Wilhelm who broke their stare first, his eyes moving towards the floor as his face contorted into a frown. Although the traces of both the hurt and the pain of his injuries still stained his face.

"We need to get out of here." He repeated, quieter this time as he stared at the cold slab at his feet. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though steeling himself for something before opening them once more and turning to face Visha, who had until now been watching over their interaction awkwardly. "Visha, help the Major get airborne, I'll arrange for a medic to meet us en route."

"But Prince Wilhelm!" She began to object, beating Tanya to a far less polite interjection. However, the boy ignored them, turning and limping away as he summoned a communication spell.

"Bluebell one to bluebell two. Christina come in." He called, strain in his voice betraying how much he was struggling as static echoed around the ruins of the temple. The area was still awash with magical interference from the battle, even if they'd been in the best of health cutting through it would have been difficult. However, as always luck seemed to favour the little captain and a reply forced its way through the garbled wash of signals.

"My Pri..! I've…. Tr..ng… contact…" Captain Zerbist's voice returned, struggling to cut through the interference. "….They… broken through!"

"The reds!?" Wilhelm replied, fresh panic cutting through the pain and fatigue in his voice.

"No, My Prince!" came the reply, the transmission becoming clearer as the connection stabilised. "An Imperial and Letzenbourg force has broken through the Federation lines and the enemy is in full retreat! The siege is broken!"

Author's notes

He everyone and as always thank you for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting.

It has been a long old time since I've updated and I apologise for that. Aside from the various mid-winter and New Year's celebrations causing some disruption, the only real excuse I have is that I got a little stuck with this chapter and really struggled with it. It turns out putting so many action bits together is difficult and making them not seem too samey more so (especially when the plan was to have some of them be similar enough to juxtapose them).

The upside of this is that in order to soldier through, I skipped ahead a little bit and started working on the next chapter, which is now almost finished as well so hopefully should be out soon. Any delay on that front can be blamed entirely on my beta reader, Vickers…Not that you should do that, of course.

Originally I wasn't going to have a section written from Mary's pov as I thought it better leaving "blind rage mode" without sharing her inner thoughts. However, writing it all from Tanya's pov seemed too much like rewriting the movie without adding to it so I relented and changed it to Mary instead. Over all I think I like how it turned up, I believe my version of the character is a little more chill than the movie version so hopefully it works ok.

The Wilhelm part is the part I'm most happy with, even if it seems like I'm torturing the poor guy at times. I'm especially pleased with the overlapping Damian and Ghost Ludwig giving him mixed message and freaking him out.

I know much of the rest is still fairly close to canon, I've done my best to add my own spin on certain aspects and share how my characters have had a subtle effect on the characters and events around them but I understand why it might be frustrating for some. However, most of Tiegenhoff needed to happen this way as it sows the seeds for things that happen in the coming chapters. Especially with Will.

In other news, I have decided to take a leaf out of Vickers' book and make use of the nightmare that is Twitter/X (and Bluesky for those who have already escaped) to keep you all up to date with the Saint and any other writing projects I decide to play around with. So please feel free to follow Lord_Solus (no underscore on Bluesky) if you wish. I will also be adding the art that I have from the Saint once I've gotten permission from the artists.

Thank you again for reading and hopefully I shall not keep you waiting too long for the next one.

Xanen (aka Lord Solus)