Ernst had always loved organizing banquets. Way back, when he was a prominent General, he did not have the luxury of pursuing his passion. Planning the decorations, music and the seating was taken over by guns, targets and battles. Too much had happened to feel regret now, but he was glad this simple pleasure stayed the same.
To him, planning a ball was all about how to make people happy. The palace's hall was adorned with silver garlands reaching the floor from the ceiling, which combined with light blue ornaments and white furniture turned this summer afternoon into a winter evening. It was sleek, but not pretentious, leaving room for everyone to feel comfortable.
The tables offered a variety of refreshments, tempting guests with their abundance. He spared no money on the quality, hiring the best chefs Sankt Jeder had to offer. The live orchestra was playing on the designated stage, with captivating music inviting to the parquet. Everything so the atmosphere could be celebratory and uplifting, instead of turning this party into a last farewell.
Thinking about the mission he had to plan was revolting. Hope and despair often came in pairs, dancing on the thin rope of destiny, ready to fall either way. This, however, was too much. Pushing his found family into almost certain demise was tearing him apart. Ernst knew the pain of losing everyone he loved, but the second time didn't sound any easier. Since a part of him had already died on that dreadful day, what would be left of him if they were gone?
"I must say I'm impressed, you still have the knack. It's so bright and prettily I feel like I've entered heaven. Not that it will ever happen, of course." Richard Altner paused the President's thoughts, offering him a champagne glass.
His own was already empty, which surprised Zimmerman. Altner, being the Major General and crucial commander, seldom drank. They were taught to be constantly prepared for the battle since the troops without any lead were as good as an explosive tornado. He suspected the uncovered documents were the cause of his behavior, which was completely understandable. The end was astonishingly close, yet agonizingly far away.
"Try the appetizers, they are the true showstopper. The kitchen was working on them for the past three days, but trust me, it's worth it." Ernst put on a professional smile, and hid his concerns under a mask. If this event was to succeed, he also had to put in the work.
"Already did, they are splendid. It must be your best ball yet. It's a shame the news hit us right before the party. I hate sending them to the Legion's territory once again, adults should be the ones handling that sort of business." Richard cursed under his nose, readjusting his eye patch. They knew there were no better Processors than the Eighty-Six, and a few months of training wouldn't change that.
"Let's not talk about it here, I haven't informed everyone yet. They deserve to have a night of their own, to dress beautifully, have fun, and behave like the teenagers they are. The depressing talk will only spoil my efforts." He delicately reprimanded his subordinate, shushing him with another glass. It wasn't their first time attending such an event, but this one felt special. It was hard to tell if it was a good or bad omen.
"Will do. Is the rest of the politics also a no-go? I wanted to ask you about your opinion on the work initiative in the camps." The man finished champagne in one go as if to lull his conscience to sleep.
"Ah, that. It's weird, but how long can people be cooped up in temporary shelters? Finding work in the local production plants is a decent start to assimilation. Of course, we shouldn't let our guard down. There are many radicals left among them, ready to strike at any moment. For now, I would like to be a little hopeful, maybe it's a fresh start we strive for." The refugees were the last ones on his list of concerns, and it wasn't short. He assumed the politicians were handling it in the best way possible since he didn't get worrying reports.
"Glehn is running his whole campaign on antagonizing them, and Riemer is doing the exact opposite. We have to be careful about public opinion since it's getting more polarized. You know Glehn has the eyes for your seat, be careful about that. He's just waiting for your slip-up." The political conversation went on, up until they were joined by Grethe and Willem. Avoiding the topic of the secret mission was hard, but soon enough, their attention focused on the newcomers.
The Spearhead Squadron and their Mascot entered together, and the whole ballroom couldn't help but stare in awe. Being dressed in stylish garments was a rarity, making it a sight to behold. Shin and Theo were wearing similar black suits, but one wore a red necktie matching his eyes, and the other went for a colorful bow instead. Many ladies blushed, impressed by their appearance, but Raiden was the man who stood out the most.
His white tuxedo matched the interior, and with his hair stylized, he was like a prince after a victorious battle. This image was fueled by a little Princess holding his hand, looking like straight from a fairy tale. Frederica had missed wearing elaborate gowns, and Raiden's outfit was the most suited for her escort. The handsome warrior didn't notice it, but the list of people interested in him here was growing steadily, gaining popularity with both sexes.
Anju and Kurena went in the last, but their transformations made the biggest impressions. A red-haired girl in a bold move put on a revealing vermilion dress showing off her body, stunning even her closest friends. Anju took the opposite approach, with a turtleneck dress closely fitting her delicate silhouette. She looked more mature and poised, but she wasn't interested in finding romance. Tonight her goal was a celebration with the people dear to her.
"They've grown well since coming here. I can nearly see them as adults." Grethe chuckled, but it was a complex wave of emotions. The three men nodded in agreement, feeling the nostalgia and doubt kicking in simultaneously. Was robbing them of the future a fair price for stopping the Legion?
"No matter what happens next, they are actual heroes, the world should be eternally grateful for." Ernst clenched his fist, promising himself he would do everything to bring his kids back safely.
Theoto Rikka hated wearing a suit. It was stuffy, rigid, and tight. He instantly regretted not protesting harder, since probably no one would have minded him having a more casual outfit. Unluckily for him, the deed was done, and he had to spend the whole evening trapped in this uncomfortable attire.
He looked around the hall seemingly casually, but his eyes were scouting for one specific person. When the girls were retelling their shopping adventures, Annette's fondness for fashion emanated from each sentence. The boy didn't admit it then, but he got curious about what she'd wear for such an occasion.
After fifteen minutes of checking every corner this place had to offer, Theo gave up the search. Maybe she was just running late since Lena also wasn't here yet. He decided that waiting idly wasn't an option, and to run away from constant dance invitations, the garden presented itself as his best choice.
He took off his jacket and bow tie pressing his neck, and suddenly breathing got a lot easier. The breeze was chilly for a summer night, but it worked out for the best with the multiple layers he had to wear. The yard was peaceful, no one ventured into its deeper parts, since the heart of the party was yet to begin.
At least that's what he had thought until he heard a sobbing sound coming from an old wooden arbor. Unsure of what to do he froze, but the pitiful noise moved something inside him. When he carefully entered the little wooden construction, his heart sank. In the corner sat a curled-up girl, the same one he tried to find so badly.
Annette was in yesterday's clothes, her eyes were puffy, and she looked like a mess. The scientist seemed tired and distraught, not noticing Theo entering her space. He had no idea what was going on, but she undeniably needed help. Sitting next to her without a word might have been a little clumsy, but he was unable to mutter a word. Annette jumped in surprise, but she quickly realized in what state he had seen her in.
"T-Theo! W-what are you doing h-here?" She stuttered in between the weeps, not having a prepared excuse.
"I was strolling in the garden but heard someone having a hard time. Don't worry, I won't pressure you to tell me anything. Can I stay beside you? To keep the company. If you need a shoulder to cry on or an ear to lend, I'll be within reach." Theo was no expert in dealing with women crying. Unable to recall any useful advice, he decided to speak to her simply as if he wanted to be approached. Sometimes another person's presence was enough to make a rough moment more bearable.
She nodded, tears limply flowing through her cheeks. Annette couldn't stop trembling, with a crying spell taking over her body. He offered her a hand to hold, but the girl went for a cuddle. Theo had never seen her so vulnerable. What could have made such a strong-willed woman crumble? He hugged her tenderly, not caring about his shirt being soaked. After what felt like an eternity, Annette calmed enough to speak out.
August 2nd Republic Year 357 (Stellar Year 2138)
30 days until the Start of the Legion War
Nobody had to explain to Ernst what the noises outside were. Not too long ago he heard them plenty. Unmistakable boom, followed by a cloud of ashes. He didn't want to believe it, but the city skyline confirmed his darkest suspicions.
"Shit. I thought they wouldn't act so soon." Irma Becker looked furious. She was swearing under her breath while staring through the window.
"Your people did this?!" Zimmerman felt like a fool for trusting her even for a beat. He was a competent General, but many rebuked him for too much faith in the humanity. Letting the suspicious woman stand in his office was risky by itself.
"We didn't. I told you about a myriad of fractions. There was a rumor going around that one got their hands on a large amount of explosives. Reaching out for your help was our last resort to stop those meaningless deaths. They probably targeted the wealthiest district, but that's only my speculation. I have no clue if they even have a proper leader." She was visibly offended by his comment, but it was no time to argue.
"They targeted civilians? Are they out of their minds? Oh God, no. Mathilda." He ignored the woman wanting to explain everything and threw himself on the phone.
Her personal number wasn't answering, but it could mean nothing. Lately, she was dozing off every chance she got, always sleeping soundly like a log. Panic was taking over when his trembling fingers were dialing his home, but this time, someone had answered.
"Zimmerman mansion, head maid Tuss here, how may I help you?" The familiar voice was calm, giving him hope his wife was safe.
"It's me, Ernst. Laura, is Mathilda there with you? Is she okay? Has anything happened near the house?" The questions kept coming, but he had to hold back to hear an answer.
"Madame Mathilda left some time ago to visit a friend. I thought she'd be staying the night since there was no request to pick her up. As for things happening, we heard some weird noises a moment ago, but they were far away. Do you know what they were, sir?" Laura Tuss was confused by the peculiarity of the call, but he was too jittery to answer properly.
"I don't know yet. Tell the staff not to go outside. Call me immediately if anyone gets in touch with Mathilda. What's the friend's address?" It was the last information he needed to begin the search. Ernst silently pleaded with every God he knew for his wife's safety.
When the head maid told him to head to the Birkenbaum mansion, he wasted no time. Irma was sensible enough to know, it wasn't the time and place to continue the conversation. The woman left on her own, telling him she would get in touch soon. Ernst didn't bother closing the doors, running to the car like a madman. He ignored the traffic rules, rushing at full speed, crossing the city in a record-breaking time.
The lights of the mansion were off, but he took it as a good sign. He left the car with the engine still running and rushed off to open the massive door. They wouldn't budge, so Ernst turned to persisting knocking and yelling for anyone to come out. His knuckles started to bleed from the sheer force he had unconsciously used, but Zimmerman paid it no mind. Eventually, he heard the lock mechanism clicking, and a young maid half-opened the door.
"Identify yourself." The man noticed a faint glint of metal in her hand, making him more cautious. Such security measures made sense after a bombing accident, and Ernst only now had realized, he probably looked like a lunatic.
"Ernst Zimmerman, a member of the Council. I'm looking for my wife, Mathilda." The former general slowly put his hands up, to show he came with peaceful intentions. The maid's posture changed after hearing his explanation, and she visibly relaxed.
"Mr Zimmerman! Please hurry! To Saint Magdalene's Hospital. Your wife needs you right now!" She got flustered, jumbling her words. The gun got dropped in the confusion, accidentally firing by itself.
"Is my wife hurt? Are you hurt?" He wanted to speed to the hospital, but leaving a potentially injured person clashed with his morality. Sometimes Ernst had wished to be more selfish and uncaring.
"No! I'm fine! The bullet hit the wall. Mrs. Zimmerman wasn't wounded, her water broke! You have to hurry, she went into early labor!" The woman gestured energetically, and he immediately understood what it meant. She watched in awe as the man jumped into the car, speeding in the night yet again.
Exhilaration spread over his body, but the remnants of the terror still lingered in his mind. Ernst couldn't wait to become a father, but he was well aware of the risks during childbirth. Mathilda was two weeks away from her due date, so it wasn't as dire, but he couldn't help but be anxious.
The hospital was like a place on the other side of the globe, but the strenuous journey at last had come to an end. Unlike the mansion, the building was as lively as it was in the middle of the day. It was pure chaos, people bustling everywhere, with screams and cries piercing the air. The interior resembled a horror movie, but Ernst was too focused on finding Mathilda to fathom the scale of this crisis.
He tried to stop a few nurses running through the corridor, but they were too busy saving lives to respond to an able-bodied man. The hospital rooms had to be packed full since the procedures had to be carried out in the middle of a hallway. Some came solely to get bandages and stitches, but there were too many emergency patients to take care of the ones standing on their own. Ernst saw multiple atrocities during the war, but the despair and anguish in the air still made him nauseous.
"Excuse me! My wife, Mathilda Zimmerman. She's in labor, I can't find her. Can I please know where to go?" He begged another passing medic since there was no guarantee Mathilda had anyone next to her during the delivery.
"Blond hair, blue eyes? Second floor, last to the left." The woman was a midwife, but the situation required everyone's hands on deck. She took pity on the distressed husband, giving him the directions while bandaging another patient.
"Thank you. You're an angel." Ernst felt eternally indebted to the merciful obstetrician, giving his earnest thanks while climbing the crowded stairs.
Tears were gathering in his eyes, was uneasiness taking over his body, and the grown man couldn't help but tremble. He was rushing to find the right room, but it wasn't simple with the equipment and patients blocking the narrow hallways. When Ernst Zimmerman stepped into the stated room, his heart froze.
Blood was everywhere. Red towels were scattered all over the floor, with various instruments piled in a metal bucket, filled with the sticky substance. The gruesome scenery made it hard to breathe. Each gasp for air felt like a thousand needles piercing his lungs, and his knees gave out before he could take even a small step. Noises around him faded, with only a shriek from his mind remaining. Ernst had no idea how much time he had spent on the ground, but the nurse's shaking finally snapped him out of his trance.
"Sir, are you injured? What's wrong?" She tried to communicate with the torpid man, but it took her a few attempts to succeed.
"My wife… Mathilda… Our angel..." He whimpered woefully, like a loyal dog who had lost his beloved owner. His body was limp, his eyes were unfocused, and the will to live was nowhere to be seen.
"Blond woman 36 weeks?" The nurse didn't give up, holding the man's head in both hands and forcing him to look at her.
"...yes?" A faint glimmer of hope sparked in his heart, bringing him back to Earth and surrounding reality.
"There were complications, but it was a success. Do you hear me? Your wife and daughter are weak but stable. We moved them into a separate room for the newborns. From the stairs, third to the right." She helped him to get up, but the man looked like a mess. His suit got soaked from the bloody floor, and he still had trouble walking straight.
"We didn't work so hard to keep them alive, for you to undo this effort with those germs. Clean yourself up in here, and put this on. Don't forget about the mask too!" A midwife, who overheard the conversation, stopped him before he entered the room in contaminated clothes, handing him a clean hospital gown with a sigh.
"Thanks." Still dazed, Ernst obediently went into the bathroom, cleaned himself, and dressed in hospital clothes. When he got out, his heartbeat was louder than a church bell.
He hesitantly pressed the handle, torn between wanting to see them, and the dread from moments ago. When the door opened, Ernst couldn't help but dissolve into tears. Mathilda fell asleep from exhaustion, but her hand was pressed to the small crib standing next to the bed. She was breathing peacefully, with groans escaping her lips every time she moved a little.
His wife looked like a Goddess. A heavenly being who waged a war against death and came back victorious, despite the odds. Her golden hair was partially crimson from the dried-up blood, but it didn't matter. To him, Mathilda couldn't be more gorgeous.
Ernst approached the bed cautiously, not wanting to disturb her sleep. He plucked up his courage and took a look inside the cradle. The little creature was red and wrinkly, clumsily wrapped in a spotted blanket. She was so tiny and fragile, yet from the moment their eyes met, the man fell under the little girl's spell. The baby was staring at him curiously with her ocean eyes, unaware of the immeasurable power she had over him.
"Ernst?" The rustle woke his wife, who was feeble and groggy after the grueling procedure.
"I'm here, my love. The three of us are finally together." He kissed Mathilda on the forehead, thanking her silently for everything. She responded with a faint smile, soothed by this gesture.
"Have you talked with Zelene? Have she found Elizabeth?" Mathilda recalled what had happened before she went into labor, but the man shook his head.
"I was focused solely on you, my phone is probably left in my car. I will try to contact her, you should rest. You're amazing, Mathilda. If I could, I would marry you again. Our Princess is perfect, I can't wait to take you both home." Ernst picked his daughter up, who seemed delighted by the hug.
"She takes after you, I would recognize that nose everywhere. Have you chosen her name yet?" They promised Mathilda would pick the name if it was a boy, and he would name the daughter.
"It came to me today like an epiphany. I want our Angel to grow up in a beautiful, safe world. To be protected from all evil. Dear Hildegard, we're glad you came into our lives."
