FFN AN: Hi there, Numbers-75 here. I normally don't like to write separate ANs for each place I post this story to. I try to keep things the same on all versions. But, well, FFN destroyed the formatting I used for a lot of dialogue tags in this chapter. And that's a bit problematic because the formatting is somewhat a fun part of storytelling for me. So, for the full experience, I'd suggest you check out the Spacebattles/Sufficientvelocity versions.
I also do read everyone's reviews here but, once again, the way this site is setup makes it a bit awkward for me to reply to your thoughts here. I am more active on the forum versions, so don't hesitate to give me your thoughts there too!
Finally, there's a song that really fits the feeling of this chapter. It's one of the original Kancolle songs, モドレナイノ. I believe you can find it by googling "Kancolle Modorenai-no". I'd play it from when "another loved one slip through your grasp?" appears.
Vol 1. Chapter 17 – Naunet's [WRATH]
I bit back a gasp of pain as I slipped back into consciousness, sharp pain screaming across my starboard side. A damage assessment popped up in my thoughts with a twist of will. It was not good. Fractures across the port side ribcage, at least two broken ribs on the starboard, shrapnel wounds across the torso, and fractures in the femur. The minor damage section only had a simple 'yes'.
Oh, and most of my right arm was rendered useless. Almost definitely from when I tried to block the shell with it. That had certainly kept me alive though.
I coughed, tasting blood and oil in the back of my throat as I tried to force my eyes open. I could still see out of my left eye, but the starboard optic was dark. Either swollen shut or destroyed. No easy way to tell without a mirror, and I would prefer not to check and confirm now. Shock was a killer. I could pretend that my eye was fine for now.
I pushed myself into a sitting position, ignoring the screaming of tortured metal and severed muscles protesting against the action. I was still in the rubble of the building I was kicked in. It looked like the shell detonating blasted the rubble clear rather than bury me. That was good. I took a look down at myself. The examination proved to be less good.
My uniform was ruined. There was barely enough left to call it modest, never mind the blood and oil stains seeping into what was left. My combat webbing was gone too. I still had my sword in my left hand. My right arm… was definitely shattered. But it seemed my hand at least still had the handcannon grasped firmly. Not quite sure how I was going to fire it but I would work that out later. My backpack... Should still be with Hoshino. I threw it and Arona at her to keep her from doing something stupid. The computer girl would be safe with Hoshino for now.
I forced myself to stand and ignored the burning screaming pain that shot up my right side as I did. I had places to be. I managed one step before falling face down, vision whiting out from the pain. At that moment, between waking and consciousness, I heard them.
Get Up.
A countless chorus of familiar voices. My crew. How strange that it took this to get them to finally speak.
But they were right.
I had to get up.
With even greater effort, I pushed myself off the ground. Every effort sent fresh fire down my nerves, and every breath was harder than the last. I managed to get into a kneeling position before my efforts ground to a halt as muscles and mechanics refused to go further.
THEY need YOU.
That's right. Nonomi was injured and needed help. Hoshino was by herself. Shiroko and Serika must be worried sick about me. Arona was going to be upset with me for throwing her at Hoshino. I had to keep going. I grit my teeth as steel and enamel shrieked from the force. But the pain in my jaw blocked out the pain of standing up as I forced myself onto my feet.
THERE ARE DUTIES LEFT UNFINISHED.
One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. I repeated the mantra quietly as I limped ahead. I had no idea how long I kept going. I only knew I stopped when I slipped on debris and fell onto one knee again.
WILL YOU WAIT AND LET ANOTHER LOVED ONE SLIP THROUGH YOUR GRASP?
No. Not after Hood. Not after Rodney. Not after Prinz. Not another junior, another sister, another friend. I refuse to sit on the sideline, unable to protect anyone. I refuse this fate that calls this my end when I have yet more to give. I refuse to be left behind, to be left alone again. A familiar heat ignited in my chest as I forced myself upright. I breathed deeply, feeling the warmth radiate throughout me.
PROVE IT. CARRY OUR FURY FORWARD.
The pain slipped away like the frozen waves off my deck as a fire took its place. It spread with every pained breath, with every struggling stroke of my boilers, with every second that passed. Heat surged through my body as I remembered the Director and his choices. The inequality of it was frustrating. How dare he reject my offer of a peaceful resolution. How dare he deny justice what it was due. How dare that trash inflict such wounds against children!
ENGLAND ERWARTET VON JEDEM, DASS ER SEINE PFLICHTEN ERFÜLLT. HAVE YOU FULFILLED YOURS?
The screaming of my long-lost crew did not waver the pulsing in my heart. It did not change the truth before me.
I have not completed my duty.
My Students needed me. Only I can protect them. Their dreams are mine to see fulfilled.
I pushed forward through the pain as a familiar [FURY] burned like molten steel through my veins. I could feel metal and flesh reknitting themselves together as emergency repairs began. I stood back up with ease as strength and sight returned, amid the howling crescendo of my crew's screams for action.
Every step became easier as I steamed forward, [RAGE] behind every footfall. The world felt the passing of my wake, heard my intent, and bent its knee. The winds immediately howled as moisture swelled, and the temperature dropped. It felt familiar. It felt right.
I looked forward to where the Trash still stood, his yowling an irritating reminder of what was still needed. The sand and air froze with every step as I drank the heat from them, every mote of stolen energy pushing my [WRATH] further.
She who dares wins; and I refuse any fate that would dare call Abydos a loss.
The dead and the damned will have their vengeance.
He will witness my [ANGER, and despair.
ACTION STATIONS! GEFECHTSSTATIONEN! ALLE MANN AUF DIE GEFECHTSSTATIONEN! ASSUME COMBAT STATUS –
People froze across all of Abydos as the air twisted and turned, filling with the bite of something eldritch.
Hina paused as an indescribable chill shook her from Halo to foot.
Suzumi stilled as a sense of abject horror overcame her senses for a moment.
Chinatsu involuntarily jerked her head to where she knew something terrible had happened.
Hasumi stopped firing for a moment as she felt a great sense of unease seep in at the edge of her awareness.
All of Problem Solver 68 felt the need to seek cover as instincts gained from countless jobs screamed.
Hifumi stopped answering the radio as the stormcloud in the distance screamed for attention, feeling an odd sense of connection and dread.
But they were not the only ones who noticed.
The great wurm of the desert halted in its duties as it recorded an error log in its memory. It paused its patrol pattern as it initiated an audit of its records. How strange. For a brief moment, the quantum cores that made up its mind determined that 10 = -1. That was not a fault in the system. At that moment, the laws of the universe shifted. It coincided with an uptick of [ANGER] in the local noospheric sensors, along with an increase in inverted thaumic energy.
It transferred the error log from its short-term storage to its long-term archive. This was a notable deviation from the predicted readings and behaviors of the local lifeforms. The seeker would wish to know of this. Intelligence secured, it resumed its previous detection patterns.
The white fox stirred from her rest within a sunlit temple between myth and reality. Something had happened, something that echoed up from the world of the physical and reverberated through the layers of consciousness.
Her ears flicked in curiosity as a new tragedy stitched itself into the story in her hands. A tragedy of restless spirits, once asleep, being awoken to howl their [WRATH] for the world to hear. A cacophony of pure emotion splattered across the page in red and black ink. Yet the text and patterns kept shifting as she flipped from page to page. It was a transforming story etched into the world that rejected any definition.
How interesting. She would need to watch this tale closely.
The dreamer paused in her restless sleep, as the texture of her dream was suddenly muddled. Something like this had never happened before. She looked out the window that dominated the dreamscape and saw something new. Where the night sky was once clear and moonlit, it was now filled with thundering storm clouds that blocked the moon.
She reached out and glanced at the threads of fate only to find one region where she could see nothing. Over the land of dying sand was a great storm, one that roared with [RAGE] and clouded the future. What was once clear and set had become murky and fluid as possibilities exploded and shifted.
As if fate itself was changing.
Across Kivotos, several Outsiders paused in their current tasks. The (Author), the (Painter), the (Storyteller), and the (Idolator) all looked in the same direction at the same time. They all felt something tug at their senses and knew without knowing that an inversion had happened.
Or, at least, something that felt like it. They'd never succeeded before so this was all novel information. But despite it, nothing could hide the supernatural [FURY] that rippled through the air and flavored everything it touched. The only question was whether or not it had been on purpose. For three it would be revealed to them by the (Lawyer). For one it would be revealed by narrative relevance.
They could wait. After all, apotheosis was worth any patience.
"Sir!" A Robot shouted as they stumbled into his office, "We have a reading on the Terror sensors!"
"I know," Black Suit answered, his window's blinds pulled up, "I can see it from here."
Beyond the window, beyond the city, hanging over the desert in the heart of Abydos was a raging storm. Lightning ripped from the sky and the thunder could be heard even in their distant office. Even from here, they could feel the effects of such a massive infusion of Terror. A faint quickening of the pulse and increasing frustration.
It would be dangerous to get any closer.
But still. It was so fascinating.
"Just what are you, Nelson-Sensei...?"
The Executive Officer heard the clanging of steel, the hum of electricity, and the hiss of steam as the Crew began to awaken. With it, the hull seemed to vibrate beneath their feet as it slowly returned to life. It was a sign that the Crew wished to strike forth, to fight again. They demanded orders and to be allowed to man their stations.
But their loyalty was not to the Crew.
It was to the Captain.
They leaned against the sealed door that kept the battle bridge and its occupant isolated from the rest of the world, their head resting against the solid steel barrier. "Now, now, now o' fragment mine. What is it that you wish? To slumber more, and to dream another night? Or to answer that call which binds you and us together?"
Whispers carried through the door, muttering restless thoughts of the sleeping dead. It would not be understood by anyone else but them. But the exhaustion behind the voice was clear.
It was not yet time.
With a simple force of their will, the doors throughout the bridge slammed shut and sealed it off from the rest of the Crew. Throughout the ship, executive lockouts made their presence known and halted the Crew's attempt to restart the ship. They could not lull the restless dead back to sleep, but they could delay the Crew from doing more. They could silence the voices, remove the memory of their demands, and prevent them from further disturbing the Captain.
"There, there, there," They cooed, voice tender, "If you wish it, then we shall see it done. Rest for a while longer."
It would be up to those outside to calm the rampaging persona, while they ensured the shadow continued to sleep. The young Cù-sìth and her friends were out there. It would be a good test to see how prepared this world was for one such as them.
And in the corner of the bridge, a radio crackled to life; the young voice on the other side concerned and panicked, "Who said that!? Nelson-Sensei, can you hear me? Who just spoke there?!"
It did rain in Abydos unlike what most people assumed. Drizzles of rain and even some moderate rainstorms happened throughout the district, especially the portions that bordered more lush districts. What mattered was the fact that it didn't rain enough. Not enough to support agriculture to reduce costs. Not enough to stop the desert's inexorable approach. Not enough to change things.
So the rain did not surprise Shiroko.
What surprised her was the type of rain. It was not the warm drizzle that came from the tropical desert. It was the cold, freezing rain of the north. It carried with it the stinging bite of salt and ice. It was rain as foreign to Abydos as the storm that raged above it, the howling winds ripping off unsecured structures and supports.
"Gu- some- radio is b-" Ayane's voice came in stuttered static-filled intervals before their headset disconnected. The familiar tone of no service warning took the place of her friend's voice. Drones either fell from the sky around them or initiated automated return directives to attempt reconnection.
At least, the ones that weren't completely covered in ice.
The lightly built quadcopters weren't the only things vulnerable to the sleet. Shiroko watched with Serika and Nonomi as one of the combat androids tried to advance on their position. It could barely move, with its limbs covered in thick ice from the sleet. Before it could reach them, it slipped on a patch of ice and fell. It tried to push itself up but it was too late, as freezing sleet rapidly covered it. Before long, it was just another pile of ice and snow.
But for all the cold, for all the buildup of ice, they were fine. Everyone with a Halo seemed fine. The Haloed mercenaries seemed resistant to the cold and ice, but they still shivered in the bite of the wind. But not them. The Foreclosure Task Force remained free of the touch of winter. Shiroko could barely feel it, as the sleet barely soaked her clothes and slid off her and her friends with supernatural speed. A heat warmed her chest, one that called her forward to action and victory.
"We are not done, wretch."
Shiroko shuddered as the words cut through the storm, three voices blended into one unified discordant noise. A pair of glowing electric blue eyes emerged from the storm. It was the only thing visible of Nelson-Sensei with the rest of her silhouette shrouded by shadow, sleet, and wind.
The Director's Goliath shuddered, the massive mech large enough to break free of the ice slowly building up on it. She could feel the fear even from here, hearing it in his voice as he stammered, "Im-impossible. That should have knocked out even the strongest of students."
Nelson didn't answer, choosing to take a step forward instead. The horrible sound of grinding metal filled the air as the Teacher strode forward, eyes firmly locked on the Goliath. A palpable [ANGER] and hunger filled the air around them, whispered voices on the wind calling for violence.
The Director responded like anyone would in this situation, faced with such an impossible unknowable terror. The cannon on the top of the Goliath dropped down and prepared to fire.
At least, until the familiar thunder of a handcannon firing interrupted him. The concussion of Nelson's handcannon fire blasted away just enough of the storm for Shiroko to see some of the Adult underneath, catching glimpses of torn clothing and black blood. A blue streak of tracer fire ripped from the weapon and tore into the Goliath's cannon. It pierced down the barrel and into the chamber, detonating into a blue-tinted fireball. Black shrapnel peppered the mech as it stumbled backward from the explosion.
It righted itself just in time for the shrouded form of Nelson to slam into it. Shiroko knew the Adult was capable of short bursts of speed, but this was nothing like she had ever seen before. Nelson seemed to glide and skate across the partially frozen waterlogged desert, before pouncing up the leg of the Goliath with agility never before shown. It was like watching an animal climb a tree as the Adult clawed and stabbed into the armor to make handholds.
The Director shouted and screamed in panic as the mech tried to shake off the Adult. He failed as Nelson completed her ascent to the top of the mech. Baleful blue eyes stared at the top of the Goliath before she leveled her handcannon and fired two rounds point blank into the top. One round penetrated a joint of the utility arm and detonated, blowing it off. Secondary detonations ripped across the mech as the other round hit an ammunition bin.
But it still stood. So, Nelson reached down and began tearing into the armor with hand and blade. Angry distorted snarling echoed throughout the base mixed with crackling panicked screaming. The Goliath stumbled as the pilot panicked, traveling further back into the base in desperation as large chunks of metal were bodily ripped out of the machine.
Leaving Abydos staring at the retreating form of the Goliath and Adult in stunned silence.
"We have to follow her!" Serika shouted as the Goliath disappeared into the storm, snapping everyone out of their silence. She knew this painfully familiar feeling that was bubbling up in her. It was anger.
Serika knew she got angry easily. She understood it wasn't always the right thing to do, but it helped her deal with the hard life she found herself in. Sometimes it helped keep her together. Sometimes it led her to make bad choices. But her anger was a part of her, something she was intimately familiar with.
That familiarity was why she knew that this anger burning in her veins, this need to move forward into action, this [WRATH], was not her anger. It was something else, something entirely different. Something that seemed to have consumed Nelson as well. They needed to stop the Teacher before she made a bad decision as well.
Her friends shook off the shock of what they had seen. Hoshino nodded, eyes sharp and free of sleepiness. Her voice was unnaturally tight, either from stress or the pulsing they must have all felt, "You're right. Abydos, we're going after our Teacher!"
"Got it!" "Nn." "Let's go already!" Nonomi, Shiroko, and Serika answered. Hoshino started running, with the rest of them following close behind. Serika saw Shiroko slow down to grab a familiar backpack off the ground, the article surprisingly free of ice or snow.
The four of them charged down the frozen waste of the base, following the cratered footsteps of the stumbling Goliath and the debris torn from it. It led them through damaged barrack buildings and frozen fighting positions. It led them to a large open space filled with hangars, a spot that may have once been a vehicle yard and helicopter landing pad. But now? It was quickly turning into a location out of Red Winter Federal School.
"Over there!" Nonomi shouted, pointing at something. Serika followed the blonde's point to a spot across the lot.
Serika watched as the Goliath finally fell to one knee and stopped moving in the distance. Moments after, the entire top of the machine detonated as the cockpit ejected. Nelson's shrouded form was thrown clear by the blast. Meanwhile, the cockpit flew further away and landed near what looked to be a command tower. The Director scrambled out of the crashed cockpit and stumbled towards the reinforced building. Nelson followed behind, slowly stalking the retreating Robot.
"Come on!" Serika shouted before running ahead with Nonomi right behind her, Shiroko and Hoshino following after a moment. Serika could feel that heat growing in her chest as the four of them dashed across the snow-covered lot. Every step forward towards the tower was like another step into the sun, despite the snow and ice around her. The storm whispered around her, asking her to simply let loose. To vent that frustration she carried on something, anything.
She tamped it down. She remembered how Nelson never lost patience with her even when she was mad at the Adult. How Nelson was always there, willing to forgive. How she promised she'd try to be better.
Deep breath in. Hold it. Count to three. Exhale. Serika kept that breathing pace as she forced that foreign temptation down. She would be better.
They were two-thirds of the way when Serika heard something. A whistle, higher in pitch than the shrieking of the wind. This time, she was ready. She slid to a stop, shoes somehow finding purchase in the snow and ice, and threw herself at Nonomi as she shouted, "Everyone, down!"
Her blonde friend yelped in surprise as Serika tackled her and pushed her to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Shiroko and Hoshino throw themselves to the side as well. A mere second later, the spot they were standing in exploded. A tank slowly entered the lot from the side, covered in snow and ice but still running. Smoke wafted from the barrel. Behind it were at least two dozen mercenaries.
"There they are!" A red-helmed mercenary growled, an odd echoing tone in her voice as she pointed at the Foreclosure Task Force, "The boss offered double pay to whoever brings them down! MAKE THEM BLEED!"
Serika bit down a curse and the bubbling [ANGER]. They had been split into two pairs by the evasive maneuver. Shiroko and Hoshino were closer to the building while she and Nonomi were between the mercenaries and the other two.
She really wanted everyone to go help Nelson as a group.
But they couldn't afford to have everyone fight the mercenaries, or for the mercenaries to chase them.
Serika looked at the field as it was, and made her choice.
"Go!" She shouted, waving Hoshino and Shiroko, "Nonomi and I will deal with this and catch up!"
Shiroko looked torn, glancing back and forth between the building and the mercenaries before Hoshino grabbed the wolfgirl. Then the two of them were off, running towards the entrance.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to drag you into this with me," Serika muttered as Nonomi stood up next to her.
Nonomi patted Serika on the head, a cheerful smile on her face. "No worries! You just want to make sure Nelson-Sensei is OK, right?"
"Yeah," Serika admitted after a few moments of thought, "So let's deal with these weaklings so we can catch up!"
Shiroko let Hoshino take point as the two of them let the fighting behind them fade, clearing the final few dozen meters in moments. Shiroko immediately felt a sense of dread as the entrance became visible. The heavy steel door was hanging on a single hinge and the hallway beyond it was cast in shadow.
"Come on," Hoshino said, her voice uncertain as she brought Iron Horus up. "They can't be too far."
"Nn," Shiroko grunted, her hands tightening on White Fang. "Let's go."
The two of them carefully strode into the maw, eyes and ears open. What greeted them inside was unnerving at best. Large chunks of the concrete walls were gone, having been gouged out either by hand or blade. Glass from shattered fluorescent tubes covered the floor, the lights having ruptured with no visible cause.
But the most unsettling thing was the sheer devastation. The first room they went through had a prepared strongpoint with concrete barriers and emplaced weapons. By Shiroko's guess, it would have been a hard fight for just her and Hoshino. But what was left of it looked like a storm had torn through it. A concrete barrier was somehow embedded into the ceiling. Bullet holes all lining the wall they entered the room from spoke of a hail of weapons fire.
Yet there wasn't any sign that it even slowed Nelson-Sensei. The Mercenaries were unconscious but breathing, having been tossed around the room like dolls. Combat-type Robots had their frames badly damaged, but still within repairable states. Nelson hadn't taken the lives of anyone they passed by, but they would all wish they had never encountered the berserk Teacher.
She wasn't sure how many combat androids were in this room though. The only thing left of the cheaply made automatons was scrap metal and electronics. Nothing that she could easily use to identify.
"What happened to her?" Hoshino muttered as they exited the room, her shotgun lowered but at the ready.
Shiroko thought about telling the tiny president about her dream which may not have been a dream. About all the tiny oddities that she had noticed in their Teacher's behavior and memories since. But she couldn't see how the pieces fit together, how they explained what was happening.
"Maybe it's because of her injuries?" Shiroko finally answered, the two having passed by another ruined room since Hoshino's question. "Nelson-Sensei usually holds back a lot, so maybe she's lost control because of her injuries."
Hoshino hummed, a tone of concern clear as she muttered, "I guess…"
The sound of something slamming into a wall interrupted, causing both of them to jolt in surprise. They looked around for the source when an electronic scream ripped through the air.
"Please! Stop!"
Shiroko's ears twitched and swiveled before she glanced upwards. Hoshino followed her gaze and the two glanced at each other. Then the ceiling shook as something slammed into the floor above, followed by more panicked pleading.
Without speaking, Shiroko bolted in search of the stairs with Hoshino behind her.
"Get up."
"Please! No more!"
A stairwell leading up to the command center, surrounded by destroyed fortifications and more unconscious bodies. The sound of metal bending and screaming echoed down.
"We're both adults! We don't need to do this! We can talk it out!"
"Where was this desire for peace, this fear of violence, this want for conversation when you thought yourself superior? When you thought you held the advantage? When you were fighting children?"
They bound up the steps, taking two or three at a time. The sound of metal crumpling under furious blows filled the stairwell, mixed with the sound of panicked pleading.
"Stop! I-i-I give up! Mercy!"
"Mercy? After everything you have done, after everything you promised to do, you dare beg for mercy?! How pathetic. Not even confident enough in your own beliefs that you would die for them."
They reached the top of the stairs. They could see a hallway and two silhouettes beyond it. A familiar tall shadow grasping an Adult Robot by the throat. The hand tightened and a loud crunching noise echoed out.
"You're a federal agent!" The Director pleaded, his voice crackling with static, "You can't do this!"
"Oh?" Nelson asked with a distorted lilt. It wasn't amusement in her voice. It was just plain cruelty, a predatory playing with its prey. "Why not? You resisted lawful detainment and arrest. You fired upon representatives of the government. You threatened my Students. This? This will be an unfortunate, unavoidable, unexpected accident. Justice served nonetheless."
Hoshino had run out first ahead of Shiroko, the tiny pinkette dashing with worry and fear in her eyes. Shiroko followed, unable and unwilling to believe that Nelson might seriously follow through with what she was threatening.
"Sensei!" "Nelson, stop!" Shiroko and Hoshino shouted as the two of them slid into the room. The Teacher tensed and turned to face them, and Shiroko froze.
The room was in as rough a state as everywhere else. A few unconscious mercenaries, furniture thoroughly devastated, and dents in the wall, ground, and ceiling. The wall-to-ceiling windows overlooking the helicopter pad were, somehow, still intact. It was like all the other rooms she had passed through here.
What was new were the baleful shadows cast onto the walls from Nelson's form. Leering faces and distorted humanoid shapes danced on the walls, as countless whispers filled the room. The Adult herself, now free from the obfuscating storm, was barely visible to her under the grasping shadowy figure that clung to her like the drowning to debris. The only thing that she could see were Nelson's eyes, which glowed electric blue with a life of their own.
"Takanashi, Sunaōkami-"
"- what are you two doing here?" I asked, looking at the two Students with a frown.
Shiroko seemed to have frozen in shock, leaving Hoshino to step forward.
"Nelson-Sensei, what are you doing?" Hoshino asked, trepidation bleeding clearly into her voice. Even though she was talking to me, her eyes never left the Vermin in my hand.
I turned my attention to the panicking Pest. He squirmed, his crackling voice jumping up several octaves in his panic. "Ms. Vice-President! Tell her to sto-"
His panicked demands were silenced with more frantic clawing at my arm as I tightened my grip, feeling the metal of his throat crush even further. The lights in his optics blinked rapidly in a panic as I pulled him closer to my face. "I did not permit you to speak to her. Do not do so again."
He frantically nodded his head even as I turned back to Hoshino. The tiny president seemed even more disturbed for some reason as I answered, "I am doing what is just. He has lorded his wealth and false power for so long that he has forgotten fear. The fear of retaliation. The fear of justice. The fear of death."
I laughed, the cold noise echoing throughout the room. Shiroko flinched, even as Hoshino seemed even less sure of herself. I stared at the squirming Director in my hand, felt the way he froze as he had my full undivided attention, and declared, "I aim to change this. He will get what he deserves."
I dropped the sword, the metal blade clattering onto the ground. The Robot Adults were nowhere near as tough as those with Halos, but my sword still failed to deal serious damage to them. A fact I determined on my way up here. It would be too troublesome to attempt a clean death by blade.
So that left one other option.
The Vermin seemed confused until my left hand enclosed the front of his faceplate, while my other hand shifted lower to his collar. Then his struggling and panicked screaming increased as I tightened my grip, braced myself, and began to pul-
A hand on my hip stopped me. I looked down to see Hoshino staring at me with worry and concern. She glanced at the still struggling Pest and countless emotions warred across her expression. Finally, she asked, sotto voice, "Sensei, is this really the right thing to do?"
"Does it matter?" I asked back, my hands still firmly grasping the Director, "Think of all the people he has harmed. Think of all the times he had others beg him for relief, for forgiveness, or for mercy. Think of how he has done nothing but delight in the face of such pain and suffering."
My blood boiled as the whispered memories told me the story I have seen a thousand times over thousands of lives. People like him never gave mercy. People like him never accepted the pleas of others. People like him delighted in being in control, in being in a superior position. Now he knew what it was like. Now he would feel that despair of having your life in another's hand. Now he would take that knowledge with him to the other side.
I turned to face him again, eyes narrowing. He was struggling, fighting for another moment like every other life he ruined. My blood coursed with delight knowing he would finally pay for his crimes. "No, what this is may not be right. But it is just. It is vengeance for those who cannot claim it themselves. Vengeance for every moment of joy he has robbed from another. Vengeance for every punishment he has evaded until now. I alone will end his threat before he harms anoth-"
"No."
I froze, my head slowly turning to stare at Hoshino. "Pardon?"
She matched my stare, defiance burning in her eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with you Sensei, but we can't do this. It's not right. If you do this now, then what will you do when you face someone else like him again?"
"Takanashi, waste like this," I rattled the Director for emphasis, ignoring his panicked protests, "are nothing more than sentient pests. All they care about is to gain more. More power, more wealth, more excuses for excess. They care not for morality; they care not who gets hurt in their hunger, they care not what the consequences of their actions are. So, if they only know one thing and can only speak in the language of strength, then I will show each of them to their final destination."
Hoshino held her ground, eyes unmoving from me, "Then what happens when the next Adult like him shows up? Will you kill him too? And the one after him too? Is killing him how you want to be remembered?"
"Sensei," She said, voice soft with worry, "Let him go. This isn't like you."
A flare of [FURY] flushed through me. She didn't know what I was like. She couldn't understand the pain of being built for a purpose, of having a mission imprinted onto you at birth, of existing for one reason only, and then being discarded for not being good at it. She couldn't understand how I had watched the consequences of letting Waste like this go without penalty. She couldn't understand the [RAGE] I held for people like this Garbage.
People like him: the industrialist, the politician, and the noblesse oblige that drew Europe into War. They happily made weapons knowing that every bullet, every shell, and every ship was a step closer to the precipice of violence. They caused so many deaths, sowed so much suffering, and shattered what chance of peace we would have. They gladly did so in the name of power. In the name of wealth. In the name of Empire and Patriotism.
Even the so-called righteous were guilty. They congratulated themselves, patting themselves on the back with one hand even as the other discarded all those who sacrificed for them. They were more than happy to forsake the past and forget the bloodshed that made them who they were. They happily wrote off the dead, lamed, and lost as 'justifiable losses', discarding them once the victory parades finished and the celebrations ended.
He deserved to face my [WRATH]. The thought that Hoshino would stop this Trash from getting what he deserved, what justice demanded, caused my blood to boil.
But…
The thought of being angry at Hoshino, one of my Students, unsettled me. I had a responsibility to look after her, and everyone else. That was the task entrusted to me by the President. That was the duty I accepted by taking on the role of Schale's Adviser. That was the only reason I stood here.
So where was this [ANGER] coming from?
I paused to seriously consider Hoshino's words. To just let him go. To just give the system a chance to take care of him. To just do anything but what I was threatening, here and now.
"But, still-"
"-he will just re-offend if we let him free. I know his kind. He will learn nothing from this."
Nelson protested, but the earlier heat in her voice was fading. Hoshino still had no clue what was happening to the Adult. But she knew something was wrong. Terribly, deeply wrong. She could tell from Shiroko's terrified expression, the faint whispers in the room, and how touching the normally cool skin of Nelson felt like touching a hot stovetop.
Hoshino had made a joke when the Teacher revealed the truth about what she was to them. That Nelson was a ghost, a spirit of some sort. Everyone, even Nelson, had laughed about it.
But maybe there was a truth to that because all ghost stories have the same start. Ghosts lingered because of unfinished business. They had something that they were missing in life that caused them to return, unable or unwilling to rest until they saw it completed.
And that was for a regular person. For a woman who was a Battleship? One who admitted to having served in a bloody war? One who regretted so many missed moments and potential in life?
This unnatural [ANGER], this burning heat that defied reason which bled from the Adult, the storm outside…
Maybe Nelson was more than just an Adult. Maybe she was more of a wrathful specter than anyone, even herself, had realized.
But that didn't change who Hoshino knew Nelson was.
Nelson was someone who desperately wanted to be better than who she was. Someone willing to give it all to protect the people closest to her. Someone who wanted to guide people away from the mistakes that she made, to make the right decisions.
But above all, Nelson was her friend.
And friends don't let each other make mistakes.
"We don't know that. If he doesn't learn his lesson, if he comes back, then we'll stop him again," Hoshino declared, voice firm.
Hoshino knew hate. She knew it very well. She hated the man that Nelson had at her mercy, hated him more than she knew what to do with. She wanted to see him suffer, to see him pay for what he'd done. What he'd been a willing participant of. To see him atone for every mote of suffering that Kaiser had put Abydos through, for every second of pain she had experienced because of them. It was a hate that would live long after this operation, longer than this debt Abydos carried.
But she realized now.
She hated him, but she didn't want him to die for his choices. She wanted punishment, acknowledgment of the despair that she felt. She didn't want murder done in the name of Abydos. She didn't want Nelson to kill him. She didn't want to see what would happen to the quirky Adult once Nelson made that permanent decision. Would she blame herself for having taken a life while clearly in some sort of delusionary state? Or, worse, would she just not come back from it?
Even more, what would the Director's death accomplish? Killing him wouldn't erase the suffering of Abydos. It wouldn't wipe out the debt. It wouldn't bring Yume back.
It would just be another instance of pointless suffering.
Nelson had told her about the choices she would need to face. About times when she would need to stand for what she believed was right.
So, Hoshino made a choice. She racked her shotgun once for emphasis. "Put him down, Sensei. We're here to take him in and book him. He's Abydos's responsibility now. Punishing him is our duty."
Nelson stared at her, a weight of countless unspoken abject otherness gazing right into her eyes, and Hoshino held that stare. She held it for as long as the Adult did. She watched the war of emotions play out on Nelson's face. She watched the madness slowly fading from Nelson's eyes, the glow fading along with the strange heat that surrounded her. She watched, even as the whispering winds in the room slowly eased down, as did the storm outside.
"Yes, that… Is correct. We are here to arrest him. Nothing more, nothing less," Nelson finally said as the absent presence in the room faded away. She looked at the Director in her hands, one hand still firmly grasped around his head and blushed in embarrassment. "Sorry, Takanashi. I… I seemed to have lost myself there."
"That's OK," Hoshino drawled casually, even as her hands firmly gripped her shotgun. "Are you gonna go berserk again?"
"No, I think I should be fine now."
Despite that, Nelson still had the Director by the collar. The Teacher confidently strode over to the barely intact panel of electronics in the command tower. She ripped a microphone free of the panel and shoved it into the Robot's face.
"Tell your employees to stand down before we are forced to engage in any other unpleasantness," Nelson ordered, the unspoken threat hanging in the air.
Hoshino had never seen the Director so quickly or piteously grab for the mic. But the way his voice cracked in fear as he gave the order for the Kaiser forces to surrender to Abydos and Schale? The way he crumpled and crab-walked away from Nelson as soon as he was let go?
She could live with that being her memory of this operation.
Shiroko had recovered from whatever it was that was afflicting her and cuffed the Director afterward. The three of us dragged him behind us as we made our way through the command tower. Seeing the destruction I had left behind me was unsettling. I remembered what I was doing, the tactical choices behind each gouge and slash. I remembered looking over every fight and making my decision on how to best eliminate every threat between me and the Director.
But I couldn't explain why I felt so driven to do it. I couldn't explain why I was striking with near-lethal intent. Worst of all, there was a distinct gap in my memory this time. I couldn't remember anything between me falling flat on my face, and climbing the war machine.
Even stranger was my arm. I distinctly remembered how my arm looked after blocking the shell. The phrase "ruptured sausage casing" came to mind. But now? It looked perfectly normal. It looked better than every other part of my body. Free of wounds or blemishes, unlike every other aching centimeter of my body.
We stepped out of the command tower, and onto the frozen wastes of the base.
I had to hold back a gasp of shock. The sight of ice and snow coating the buildings in the middle of the desert was distinctly unnatural. But, at the same time, it was so achingly familiar.
Yet, I had even more questions. The storm was my doing. There wasn't any use trying to pretend otherwise. But how? And why? What exactly was happening to me? Questions that I desperately needed to know the answers to. Answers that weren't forthcoming. Like so many other questions that I had about my presence in Kivotos.
My return to the outside did not go unnoticed. A Schale-marked helicopter sat in the middle of the field, around which were several familiar faces. Serika was the first to spot me, her face flipping between surprise, shock, anger, and relief before settling on annoyance.
"Sensei!" She shouted, drawing the attention of everyone present as she dashed away from the helicopter. She slid over the ice and snow, coming to a complete halt in front of me. Worry instantly lined her face as she saw the variety of injuries covering me.
"I can't believe you!" Serika shouted after a moment, her voice heated as she gently punched me in my good arm, "What are you, a kid? We let you out of our sight and you get yourself hurt again!"
I laughed gently, my ribs aching in protest before my hand came up to pat her on the head placatingly. "I apologize for worrying you."
Serika simmered in anxious fury before turning away with a huff. "You should learn from this, Sensei." She paused and then sighed, her shoulders slumping, "But I guess you wouldn't be you if you didn't do something stupid like this."
I didn't have a chance to retort. Chinatsu and Ayane reached me at that moment.
"Nelson-Sensei, what am I going to do with you?" Chinatsu muttered with a sigh, even as she pulled patches and salves from her bag. She started cleaning off what wounds she could see and applying patches, even if she was only treating the surface injuries.
Ayane was much less restrained, grabbing my arm to inspect it and tucking my hair to look at my now functioning eye. Signs of panicked concern were still clear in her expression even as she looked about carefully, "Nonomi told me what happened! You got hit by an anti-tank cannon, Sensei! You should be sitting!"
That got a reaction from Chinatsu, who looked up at me with a very pointed stare. I laughed, running my hand through my hair, "I believe I have made a full recovery?"
The stare didn't ease up, and Chinatsu pointed at the half-track the Schale Battleline Squad and Problem Solver 68 rode in on. "Sit. Now."
I knew better than to argue with an upset medic. Hoshino helped me over to the half-track while Shiroko took the Director to the rest of the prisoners. Suzumi glanced at us as we approached, a tiny smile at the ready, before freezing and promptly looking away with a blush.
"Is something the matter, Morizuki?"
Suzumi rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. "Your clothes, Sensei."
I blinked in confusion, before looking back down at myself. Now that my head was clearing up, I could process the state I was in. I had been through countless explosions, shot twice as much, and also kicked through a building. While I was intact, my uniform was most certainly not. It only barely covered more than the average swimsuit. That wasn't counting the staining either.
"Oh. Right," I intoned quietly, a warm flush settling in my cheeks, "I knew I had forgotten something."
Suzumi nodded and reached into the troop compartment and pulled out a tarp. She handed it to me, still looking away. "Here, Sensei."
I took it with a simple "Thank you" and draped it over myself before sitting on the floor of the halftrack. Hoshino sat down next to me and the two of us watched the base. Chinatsu and Ayane were pulling additional medical supplies from the helicopter. Serika and Nonomi had laid down in the snow and ice, seeming to enjoy the foreign environment. Problem Solver and Hasumi were standing guard over the prisoners. Shiroko was looking through the wreckage and open warehouses, taking whatever she could while the warrant was active.
"It's finally over, isn't it?" Hoshino asked, disbelief steeped in her voice.
"It is over," I answered firmly with a nod, "I have pulled quite a few cards to arrange for this, but I suspect the greater Kaiser corporation will soon label the Director as a rogue element. With a press conference and prepared statement of sympathetic regret, of course."
"It's been so long, it's hard to believe."
I leaned over, giving the tiny Vice-President a hug from the side. "It was difficult, but tomorrow is here. I suggest you begin planning how to proceed from here."
Hoshino nodded, unwilling or unable to find words. That was fine. We sat there, watching friends and allies go about as the sun finally rose on Abydos. The snow and ice glittered in the morning light, the foreboding cold bleeding from the terrain easing slowly before the inexorable daybreak.
As the dawn chased away the dusk, I heard it. Quiet, barely whispered. "Thanks, Nelson-Sensei. For not giving up on us."
There was no need to say my answer. I smiled, confident she could see it, and tightened my hug ever so slightly.
Renai put away her binoculars and shuffled back behind a dune. She had just made it back from her long-distance patrol to find the Kaiser PMC Base turned into an ice cube. A base, in the middle of the desert, frozen solid. With Abydos and that terrifying Adult in the middle of it.
Go figure that she would be fired from her old job, find a new job, and have that be ruined by the same group of people again.
She sighed, kicking the sand. Why did she bother? She dropped out of school to taste freedom, and to be an independent person. What did that get her? She didn't make any money in the Helmet Gang, Market Guard, or Kaiser Security. All she got was desert sand in places she never knew she could find sand, more bruises than before, a new scar or two, and a terrifying nightmare that haunted her sleep.
She was worse off than when she started.
This whole 'independent criminal lifestyle' wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.
She pulled off her helmet, breathing in the morning desert air. There was a hint of cold salt to it, likely the breeze from the frozen base. She reached into a pouch to retrieve her glasses, with its large circular lenses. The desert snapped into clarity once they were on, replacing the prescription lenses that were on her old gas mask.
"Maybe I should go back to school," She muttered as the wind kicked up her short brown hair, the ponytail brushing up against her neck, "Nothing weird like this ever happens in Millenium."
AN: Identity is a fickle thing. It's formed through the values you embrace, the moments you experience, and the memories you have. But what if someone cuts through your memories? What if they repress certain experiences? Is the person who stands with only a fragment of their memory and experiences truly the same person as the one before it? What if they remove some key formative memories? How much would a person change from such alteration to their psyche? Could they be called the same person?
And what if that alteration was self-inflicted?
If it isn't obvious before, then it should be pretty obvious now that maybe Nelson isn't who she remembers herself to be.
Thanks again to my friend for beta-reading! Please let me know your thoughts and if any mistakes got left behind.