"It's kind of strange to hold a conversation in actual words again," Anju mused, her spidery Löwe frame stretched out on the deck in a lazy sprawl that was amusingly not machine-like. "Talking feels so slow now… but honestly, slowing down like this for a change is kind of nice."

Kurena's morbid joke about rusting was apparently typical of how frankly the Shepherds viewed their changed nature. Lena was hesitant to ask the questions her mind was brimming with, but when the subject somehow came about regardless, more than a few of them were willing to discuss the unfathomable difference of being machines. They couldn't always put what they experienced into human words, but they kindly tried their best.

"Yeah, as fast as our minds work now, I think I got through the whole 'stages of grief' thing in the first hour after Shinrei woke me up," Kurena chimed in.

Raiden approximated a snort. "That wasn't your processing speed. It's just the way you are."

"Come on, it's not like it was that easy for me to come to grips with what's happened to us.—But at least I did get over it a lot better than somebody we know."

From a distance away where he was scrawling yet another drawing on the deck, Theo grunted irritably. "Shut up, Kurena."

"Hey, see? You just called me by my name. Would you be doing that if you really felt like I was nothing but a copy of someone's brain?"

"Well, calling you the name of the person you think you are is a lot simpler than saying 'Ameise with Kurena's memories'."

Anju sighed. "Seriously, Theo. You can deny it as much as you want, but it's obvious you're only trying to convince yourself we're not still who we were."

"Alright, settle down," Shinrei's double-voice interjected gently.

The commander of the Legion in its eerie new form was sitting nearest to Lena, massive limbs folded to let his undercarriage rest against the deck. She could have reached out and touched his right foreleg. In fact, he was so close that she wasn't sure his somewhat limited Dinosauria optics could pick her up where she sat… but then, they didn't need to. He could see her through the lenses of any or all of the surrounding Shepherds.

She must have stared at him for a moment too long to disguise her renewed wonder, because Raiden chuckled deeply and shifted a little closer as well.

"What you're really wondering about is the hardest part to explain," he observed. "The collective consciousness we share. Our connection to each other—through him."

Lena winced. Raiden was still so perceptive. Maybe not on the same level as Shin, but… well, perhaps the Vice Captain had learned it from him.

"I think she's jealous," Kurena muttered deviously—this time successfully dodging the smack Anju scrambled to aim at her.

…Not that Lena entirely noticed the interplay. The human girl was much too busy turning an intense shade of scarlet from the implications of the remark.

"Wh-what? That's—no! Of course not… I would never—"

"I hope so, for your sake," Raiden interrupted. "Trust me. Even if we've accepted what we are, we would never wish this on anyone else. Besides the rest of it, the sheer exposure of sharing your mind with dozens of others, feeling the ways every one of them has suffered in life and beyond…" He paused, and his voice fell to a startling softness. "As difficult as it may be for you to imagine, we're just as much one now as we are still individuals—and that means we can't escape each other's sorrow and anger and guilt. The only way we can deal with that is because we few in this room found more strength in each other than pain… but there were so many who couldn't."

Glancing at the brooding Grauwolf that was Theo, Lena swallowed hard. "I understand."

"We don't want to sound like we're lecturing you," Anju offered kindly. "It's just… well, as obsessed with us as you are, we've been a little worried about you getting any weird ideas."

"I'm not—" Lena began to object… and then closed her mouth.

She couldn't deny the truth. Spearhead Squadron had been the entire focus of her thoughts and emotions since the day she took charge of them as their Handler. At first it was about her righteous zeal to try to fix something of the broken world she inherited, to atone for the sense of guilt her father had instilled in her; but as she learned to know them better, it became so much more. Although she couldn't see the varied hues of their eyes and hair and skin, they had nevertheless shown her color she'd never known inside the confines of the Gran Mur. In comparison to the gray emptiness she sensed within her own people, their vibrant souls had dazzled her.

If she hadn't finally found them, just maybe she could admit to herself that she would have wanted to remain lost too… no matter how it happened.

Of course she couldn't admit that to them without earning a rebuke. Fortunately for her, before she could make any effort to save face and probably dig herself deeper, Raiden was kind enough to let her off the hook.

"Well, anyway, if there's one thing we can say for our connection… at least it's that Shinrei can't hide himself from us anymore."

Something about the tone of those words—the undercurrent of gentle care, the sincere note of what almost seemed like relief—made Lena's heart squeeze. She remembered the darker depths of Shin's silences well enough to imagine they would have even more deeply troubled his best friend, who was there by his side to see those shadows as well as hear them. Although the Shin she knew would have hated having his jealously guarded soul stripped bare before those he cared about, she was glad he could no longer escape from their compassion.

"It doesn't frighten you, though?" she asked softly. "To be… a part of him? To know he could have so much power over you if he wanted to?"

Raiden emulated a sigh. "No. The truth is that if it had to be this way, there's no one else I would have chosen."

"As Spearhead Squadron, we trusted our lives and our deaths to Shin," Anju reflected. "Even then, we believed he'd carry all of us with him someday. Knowing now what he felt, and how heavy that burden was for him, we realize how selfish we were… but in the end, I'm glad it happened like this. Becoming a part of him meant we didn't have to leave him alone."

"But he's not only Shin now." Lena craned her neck to look up at Shinrei. Apparently determined to ignore the conversation while he was its subject, he had turned his turret toward the far side of the bay, watching Kurena bound around in a noisy game of tag with Rito and a female Grauwolf. In that moment he reminded her of a regal and powerful lion, serenely watching its cubs at play… and she wondered yet again what he truly felt about his new existence. "To be honest, I'm still trying to get my head around what Shinrei is—much less what he shares with all of you."

"I'm not surprised." Raiden's tone was pensive. "One yet both, and even more than that… We understand it because we can feel him as everything he is, but it must be confusing for you. Especially since you knew Rei in person."

"Only for a few days, when I was a child." Lena shrugged ruefully. "Maybe if I could have known Rei as well as I felt I knew Shin, I could see the different parts of what they are now more clearly."

Urs chuckled. "You may be trying a bit too hard there, lass. Best to think the Captain just is."

"He's the Legion," Raiden agreed firmly. "That means he's all of us now—but not because of the collective consciousness we share, or the power he commands. The real truth is that his desires are ours because we believe in them too."

"Maybe that's one change I can be glad he's experienced, then. There was a time when I asked Shin what he wanted for himself… and beyond putting Rei to rest, he honestly didn't have an answer." Lena frowned thoughtfully at Shinrei. "So other than freeing the Eighty-Six, what are his desires now?"

"To prevent the Legion's technology from being exploited for a repeat of the kind of violence that created it in the first place. To protect us remaining Shepherds from human vengeance against what the Legion once was… and to avoid ever harming a human life again." Raiden's turret tipped downward somberly. "We can only hope none of those objectives will ever end up being at odds with each other."

A pang gripped Lena's heart as she was reminded of the Shepherds' uncertain future. If they meant to go on after seeing through the liberation of the Eighty-Six, the truth about what they were would inevitably come out to the world. They couldn't be explained away forever as former Legion units under human control, reprogrammed for the Eighty-Six's defense; and even if some people could accept the idea of human souls dwelling in machines, Raiden was surely correct that certain powers would covet them as remnants of Legion technology. Should that threat become realized, could they protect themselves without breaking Shinrei's resolve to do no harm to humans? …Or terrifyingly, would they choose self-sacrificial destruction rather than fall into malevolent hands?

Sternly she reminded herself that this was another problem for the future. Right now they had a mission to carry out, and lives to save—and she still knew nothing about how Shinrei planned to accomplish it.

Intending to broach the subject at long last, she turned to him… and raised an eyebrow at the subtle stiffness she could sense about his host body, inherently rigid though it was.

"Wait. Are you actually embarrassed from listening to us talk about you?" she asked amusedly. "I thought you were just ignoring us all this time."

"Shared consciousness makes that difficult," he reminded her in a low mutter.

"His core temperature is up almost three tenths of a degree," Anju divulged gleefully. "That basically means he's blushing."

Lena's eyes widened… and then she burst into laughter.

"Alright now," the will of the Legion sighed longsufferingly, once the human girl's fit of mirth subsided into giggles. "Since you've eaten and had some time to get better acquainted, I think it's time to discuss our plans."

At once Lena sobered, sitting up on her knees to regard him with an intent nod. "Of course. I'm listening."

"Our objective is obviously a straightforward one: to liberate the Eighty-Six and remove them from the Republic's reach. At least in physical terms, without the Legion to fight, there's nothing left to stop them from just walking away from the Eighty-Sixth District altogether. It would be easy if we only had to explain that we won't harm them, and they're free to move on to a new life… but of course, they could never just accept that assurance from a force they only know as their mortal enemy."

"You have to convince them you're on their side now," Lena followed. "So you think your best option for that is some kind of show of action against the Republic—as a demonstration of good faith."

"It's not only that. There is a legitimate need to neutralize any ability the Republic has to interfere. Even if they were never able to use it against the Legion, the Republic does have air power—and we can't allow it to remain operational, in case they somehow convinced themselves there was still one last chance to bury their crimes through genocide. If that happened, and the Legion was forced to step in to defend the Eighty-Six… then our goal of avoiding casualties would be sure to fail."

"That makes sense. But how do you plan to disable the Republic's defense network without a direct attack?"

"We won't," Shinrei answered calmly. "You will."

He went on to explain the operation, laying out Lena's entire role in the plan. She listened carefully, submitting details and small adjustments that only she with her inside knowledge of the Republic Army could fill in. The weight of the responsibility he trusted her to carry out left her feeling breathless. Yet with the frighteningly effective tools he could provide her with, she knew the action itself would be simple—just as long as she could suppress her anxiousness, and play-act an image of innocence well enough to avoid being found out before her task was complete.

Beyond that, she was aware of one further complication; but she chose not to mention it to the Shepherds. She could see her own way around it easily enough.

"Yes, I think this should make sure you and the Eighty-Six are safe from retaliation," she agreed at length. "But it won't exactly put on a display outside the Gran Mur. Will it really be enough to prove your intentions?"

"No." Shinrei chuckled faintly, but it was only a wry and rueful sound. "Any of us who were once Eighty-Six can tell you how difficult their trust will be to earn. …For that matter, I'd say you have experience in that yourself."

Lena's fleeting smile in response was more of a wince. "Then what are you going to do?"

"We'll rely on the psychological power of the 'enemy of my enemy' principle. Our only chance of convincing the Eighty-Six that we don't want to hurt them is with a visible strike against those who do—and while avoiding casualties even on the Republic side as well, to prove that we don't intend to harm anyone."

"How can you accomplish that?"

"Simple. We're going to punch a hole in the Gran Mur."

Lena choked. "What?"

"Don't worry. We've chosen our target site very carefully… using knowledge we inherited from three Republic Army soldiers who chose to fight alongside the Eighty-Six, and were later assimilated by the Legion."

Theo made a faint unreadable sound then, and for a painful moment, Lena was given pause to wonder if the Alba who first carried his Laughing Fox callsign had been one of those unfortunates.

"According to their memories," Shinrei continued, "the area of the Eighty-Fifth District just inside the wall consists almost entirely of agricultural fields, so it's sparsely populated. Furthermore, we're going to ensure that the Republic will be forewarned in more than enough time to evacuate the few citizens who are there."

"But how can you physically do it?" Lena persisted. "Do you—and did the Legion—have a weapon that's actually powerful enough to penetrate the Gran Mur?"

Even with his inhuman swiftness of thought, Shinrei's hesitation was apparent. Something unsettlingly dark crept into his tone as he answered.

"…It's called the Morpho."

A flash of memory brought Lena back to the vast antechamber of the Legion's base, and her glimpse of maintenance equipment that would have dwarfed any Legion model she knew of. Was this Morpho Shinrei spoke of the machine that had required facilities on such a scale?

And if it was…

"Is it—?" she began, only to be forced to pause and swallow hard. "Please tell me… tell me it's not a Shepherd too."

Her heart sank as Shinrei pushed his monstrous form upward and stood, betraying a sudden discomfort that could only be caused by very human emotions.

"I didn't count him among the others for a reason. He's… different from them."

"Meaning he's a genocidal maniac who should've been put down with all the others that were too far gone," Theo interjected harshly. "The only reason you couldn't bring yourself to do it is because he's family."

"It's not just—" Shinrei quickly began to mutter in protest; but he was cut off by the astonished query that exploded out of Lena at the same moment.

"What do you mean by family?" Her eyes widened in horror as she remembered that Shin and Rei's parents had preceded them as victims of the Legion. "Oh no… Are you saying he was your—?"

"His name in life was Kiriya Nouzen," Shinrei divulged. "He was a distant cousin from a branch of our clan that had remained in the Giad Empire, and served the royal family until it was overthrown. For most of his life, he was the personal knight and companion of the young princess—until everything he cared about in this world was torn away from him in the revolution. After that, all he wanted was to destroy everyone he believed had betrayed him, even destroy humanity itself… and that's why his chosen path to revenge was to allow the Legion to assimilate him. Because only the power it would give him could satisfy his hatred and lust for blood."

A chill crawled slowly down Lena's spine as Shinrei spoke. His tone was unlike anything she had heard from him before, and she suddenly realized why: this Kiriya was as much a part of him now as the other Shepherds were. Even at that moment, he was in contact with the tortured soul he described, and he endured having to feel those horrific emotions of rage and violence the broken knight still felt.

"…How can you let him go on like that?" Lena whispered.

"Because Theo was wrong." The steadiness of certainty resonated through Shinrei's double-voice. "I know I can still reach Kiriya."

Raiden made a dissatisfied sound. "I'm sorry, but even I have a hard time believing that much. We all feel him too… and you're right to say he's different. The Legion itself could barely control him. Even then, he was close to being able to break his programming like Rei did—and if he'd managed to go rogue, his goal would have been destroying instead of protecting. He was impatient enough already through his testing phase, waiting for the chance to be used as a weapon of mass destruction… and now he knows the new will of the Legion doesn't plan to take any human life at all. The truth is that it's been everything you could do just to keep him asleep since Legionfall, and if he wakes up now—"

"I can manage him," Shinrei reiterated. "I know how."

"By counting on that girl?"

"Trust me, Raiden. When the time comes, Kiriya will do as I ask. But even if not… I won't allow him to hurt anyone."

"Just how much damage is this one unit capable of doing?" Lena interjected. "What exactly is he?"

The sheer weight of Shinrei's reluctant pause was frightening enough.

"The Morpho is a railgun type."

Lena's mouth snapped shut abruptly. She was silent for a long moment, taking in the full depth of the terrifying implications in that truth.

"A weapon like that…" She swallowed hard and struggled to find her voice. "How close was the Legion to using it?"

"The testing phase was completed. All that remained was organizing the logistics for a full-scale invasion force to follow its deployment. To be precise, at the time of Legionfall… the Legion was only four days away from initiating the complete annihilation of the San Magnolia Republic."

A pit seemed to open up in Lena's stomach. She dropped back heavily onto the blanket beneath her, vision grayed, breathing hard as monstrous images raced through her mind.

Had Shin not been assimilated… Had he not merged with Rei and gained control of the Legion…

Then the Republic would already have been reduced to a burning and shattered wasteland—and Lena, her mother, her uncle, Annette, and everyone else she had ever known would most likely be dead or assimilated.

"That means you… you saved the Republic with your deaths," she whispered numbly. "The very people who condemned you to that fate."

Theo grunted bitterly. "Not that the Pigs will exactly be building monuments to us in gratitude…"

"Still, it means something that we already managed to spare so many human lives once," Anju countered. "Even if it wasn't really by a deliberate choice."

Something tightened resolutely within Lena. She drew a deep breath, and looked up at Shinrei with a new determination.

"Alright. Deliberate or not, the Republic is still alive right now because of your influence—and that's why I'm going to trust you to keep it alive again. So do what you have to, even if it means bringing down the Gran Mur. If you say you can avoid hurting anyone in the process… I believe you. And I'll do my part for you, from the inside."

In wordless response, a silver hand extended to her from beneath Shinrei's steel carapace, and she grasped it as firmly as a promise.