Chapter XVIII:

Mors et Requiem

First Ward, Eastern Front, Republic of San Magnolia, June 22nd SY 2149

An abundant batch of fresh troops arrived in the rear line as a constant stream of transport trucks poured in at the Regimental Headquarters. Lutz sternly stared at the clean shaven and inexperienced recruits while his company was resting in the rear line. He looked away with disgust. He could see the sparks of glory and hope in their eyes, hungry for adventure and to be the hero of their story… but they would surely be disappointed, shaken or dead when they'll spend their first night in the frontline.

"Jesus… how old are they? Twenty? Nineteen?" A nearby corporal asked in disbelief.

"Wanna bet to see how many will desert in their first week?" Another commented jokingly.

"You better shut the fuck up." Lutz sternly snapped at the two soldiers, "And cut that crap. These kids' lives are not objects for your twisted entertainment. Teach them to be better soldiers and how to survive out there. If I ever hear one of you shit-mouths joke like that again, I'll shoot you and feed your corpses to the Legion myself. Is that clear?"

The two soldiers nodded silently, wide eyes staring back at him.

"Form up by platoons, maggots!" The regiment's assigned Commissar hollered furiously, snapping the recruits to action. "Platoon leaders up front! Each one of you will receive your orders from your respective companies. Once the orders received, you will lead your troops to your designated company sectors! From then on, you will all be under the command of your new company commanders! May the God-Emperor guide your hearts and aim in battle!"

"Sir, yes sir!" They shouted in unison.

Brígsingamen Squadron base

The Valkyrie jolted with a whine as it landed on the tarmac. Karlstahl breathed out and quickly unbuckled the seat's belts. He accompanied Admiral Ravenkin along with Commissar Darius, Colonel Jeremiah and Magos Logi Tybas-575. He was the only Alba officer to join them in an important meeting requested by General Farestein.

Jérôme aimlessly looked around at the base while he followed the Imperial retinue to the Death Korps headquarters located a few hundred metres away from the motor pool and hangars. A lot has changed since the last time he visited this base. It has transformed into a formidable and fully functional forward operating base, completed with fortifications, anti-air guns and stationary artillery batteries. While it was still officially an Eighty-Six home base, the Processors were easily dwarfed by the sheer volume of Imperial Guard soldiers.

Coming through the headquarter's blast door, the visitors met face-to-face with Death Marshal Arnem and several Krieg officers. With a nod, the officers quietly exited the prefab, and two Grenadiers pulled security at the entrance.

"Admiral, General," Arnem greeted them with a nod. He then gestured to a floating servo-skull at the far end of the room, "General Farestein would speak to us through this servo-skull unit. He is, unfortunately, unable to physically join us for this meeting." He explained stoically.

They all took a seat around the central table and waited patiently, making small talk with each other. After a short while, the servo-skull suddenly buzzed to life, its beady red optical sensor flashed multiple times as it gently hovered just over them.

++CONNECTING… STANDYBY…++ It announced with a hollow mechanical voice. ++VOX-COMM CONNECTION ESTABLISHED… STANDBY…++ A white noise filled the room before a familiar gruff voice echoed out of the skull's loud hailer.

"Greetings… can you all hear me?" Farestein asked unsurely before letting off a cuss under his breath, "Blasted thing… hello? Anyone?"

"We hear you just fine, general." Ravenkin answered with a playful smirk, "Love the new look. Is it a new haircut?"

"Har har… Save your pleasantries, admiral," He berated lightly.

"Can we please focus on the matter at hand, general?" Arnem interrupted them coldly, earning surprised looks from both the commissar and the admiral.

"Er, right. I've just finished planning with the other three nations; their armies are preparing to mobilise for phase two of the operation."

"Phase two?" Karlstahl frowned.

"To launch the counteroffensive. For that to succeed, we need the Republic to be exposed and vulnerable for a complete takeover." Farestein explained calmly, "All Imperial Guard forces will begin to withdraw to the capital city while the Republic Armed Forces will employ a scorched earth stance and hold as long as possible."

"But… but we haven't reached full strength, we're still over four hundred thousand short, general," He argued sceptically, "Furthermore, Charité is soon going to be under siege. If that city falls, we will lose 90 percent of our industrial capacity."

++Affirmative. Losing the manufactorums will reduce weapons, ammunitions and food productivity by 98 percent++ Magos Tybas confirmed, the tendrils hanging from his mouth… area, clicked and clacked after each word. ++However, I have calculated precisely, if the flesh bags of San Magnolia [incoherent mechanical buzz] ration correctly, supplies will last 94 days. The calculations are made with a margin of error of 6.4913 percent++

"While losing Charité will be regrettable, it won't matter in the grand scheme of things," Jeremiah said, arms casually crossed over his chest, "If anything, it would be another roadblock for the Legion. You need to remember that urban warfare isn't the enemy's strong suit."

"Exactly! So, worry not, Karlstahl, for when the large-scale offensive comes, it will be time for your soldiers to prove themselves to the Imperium and the Imperial Guard."

"I…Understood." The Alba officer nodded blankly.

"Marshal Arnem shall share with you in more details for the withdrawal of his troops. We need to make sure that we don't arouse the Legion's suspicion too early or else everything will collapse."

"Eh, worst case scenario, the Navy could eradicate half of the continent." Commissar Darius suggested nonchalantly.

"While I agree with you, commissar, I think it is in everyone's best interest to have some people alive to reclaim this planet, and if possible, without any Imperial Guard black-on-black casualties." Ravenkin reminded him sternly.

"Just letting everyone know that we still have a last resort if things go awry." Darius placatively explained, "Speaking of, general, have you found a suitable replacement to command the 501st?"

"Negative, that is why I will personally take command starting tomorrow."

"Are you sure that's wise, general? I could recommend my 2IC for the position." Jeremiah proposed.

"No need, colonel, I will lead my old regiment once more. Besides I could use some fresh air on the battlefield."

Ravenkin smiled quietly.

First Ward, Northern Front, Republic of San Magnolia, July 3rd SY 2149

The streets were awfully quiet at night. Despite the enemy wandering about so close to the frontline, it was a miracle that they were still undetected. Nakano kept up his pace with the team of Krieg guardsmen as they navigated through the city ruins on foot. Their mission was to locate and destroy a downed Juggernaut from a previous skirmish that occurred an hour ago. Hopefully, the Processor's brain hasn't been syphoned out by the Legion.

Although Nakano would've preferred to travel with Black Bird as it did offer more protection and firepower, he did understand that discretion was needed for this particular task. He volunteered for it; he needed to follow another Squadron leader's example when dealing with their fallen; a Name bearer that goes by the grim moniker of Undertaker. It was his only assurance that his comrade could get a permanent and peaceful rest.

The lead guardsman abruptly raised a fist up, halting the squad in an alleyway. A bit slow and unfamiliar with the hand signal, Nanako accidentally bumped into the Korpsman in front of him and he was forcefully shoved down to a squat from behind. None of the soldiers seemed to be bothered by his mishap, they were on high alert with their lasguns shouldered and scanning their surroundings. He felt a light tap on his right shoulder. The guardsman behind him pointed at the Processor's rifle then directed his gaze at a sector to observe. He nodded silently and mimicked the Korpsmen. The soldier nodded approvingly.

His arms were beginning to strain as they kept venturing deeper in the city. He wasn't unfamiliar with the issued battle rifle, but it has been a while since he carried it for this long. Rifles and handguns were usually used as a last resort when a Processor's Juggernaut was out of commission. Usually, it also meant that the Eighty-Six has only several seconds to a minute before meeting their untimely demise.

The squad reached their destination. Laid inertly in the middle of the street was Antylope. The Juggernaut was in terrible shape; its cannon and legs were twisted in all the wrong angles, several fist-sized holes peppered the right side of the hull and canopy, and a pool of gasoline and blood poured continuously underneath its immobile carcass. Around it were a dozen shattered and smashed husks of suicide mines, Jaëgers and Ameise. It finally took a volley fire from multiple Löwes to take her out of action.

Carefully and discreetly, they approached the Juggernaut and formed a defensive perimeter. The two combat engineers that was attached to the squad began to plant and arm melta charges while Nakano has the grim task of looking into the canopy and confirm the pilot's condition.

He swallowed the built bile and swung the rifle onto his back before he climbed the war machine. He reached for the emergency release hatch and dryly pulled it. It hatched with a soft hiss. The thin aluminium canopy weakly opened, revealing the cold and disfigured corpse of its pilot. Nakano gasped and immediately looked away. Half of her body was gone, probably vaporized by tank SABOT shells. Blood and guts were splashed all over the cockpit and control panels. He pulled out a piece of cloth and covered his mouth and nose. Daring another look into the cockpit, he was slightly relieved that her head was still intact.

Her eyes were closed in a peaceful manner, as if accepting her long slumber seconds before death. Her pale lips were slightly stretched to a weak and forlorn smile. She was only sixteen years old. Hesitantly and delicately, he reached out to her uniform's collar and lightly tugged on her dog tags.

"Lieutenant, status." The watchmaster demanded stoically.

"Intact. She would get her rest." He replied as he slid down the Juggernaut.

"May the Emperor welcome her soul to the Eternal Gates, for she has dutifully served His will." The Krieg sergeant cited devoutly, signing with an aquila to the Antylope.

After getting some distance, the engineers detonated the explosive charges. The Juggernaut was reduced into a slag of molten metal and smoking husk with the Processor in it, forever denying the Legion another precious resource.

They returned to friendly territory in the early hours of dawn with minimal casualty. A clumsy guardsman sprained his ankle on the way back, forcing the squad to move at a snail's pace and adding an entire hour to their perilous journey.

"Take him to the aid station." The watchmaster instructed another trooper.

"That won't be necessary-"

"Don't even start with me, trooper," He cut off the injured Korpsman briskly, "Aid station. Now." He insisted sternly.

"Come on, dummkopf, lean on me." The other trooper said to the limping guardsman and carried him away.

Nakano grinned lightly, finding the moment quite amusing. He and his fellow Eighty-Six have always seen the Death Korps guardsmen as stone-cold and emotionless automatons. Seeing such a human interaction was indeed rare to observe. The senior Korpsman turned to the young lieutenant and gave a rigid salute. He replied in kind before extending a hand towards him. The watchmaster gazed curiously down at the hand.

"I want to thank you guys… for doing this and honouring my fallen." Nakano explained sincerely, "You didn't have to do that for us Eighty-Six."

The watchmaster regarded the teenager silently. He grasped his hand and shook it firmly. "Your soldiers are competent and brave. They deserve a warrior's rest and respect. They would be a fine addition to the Imperial Guard."

He nodded crestfallenly, "Take care of yourselves, sergeant."

"You too, lieutenant."

The Krieger departed and returned with the rest of his company. Nakano lingered in place, the watchmaster's words echoing in his head. Were they truly warriors if their sole purpose was to fight and die for a nation that fanatically despised them and their very existence, willing to throw millions of Coloratas, his people, to the slaughter?

These dangerous, intrusive thoughts were creeping up more often than he would like to admit. Each day he doubted his every action; each dead Processor was like a punch in his guts. Every day his resentment towards the Republic grew darker, even if the Imperium took control of it, the fact that it still stands added salt to injury. A nasty reminder that even though the Albas are now paying the consequences by sending their own in the meat grinder, they were still living a better life than the Eighty-Six behind the Gran Mur. They were still commanding them.

His grip around the rifle's sling tightened until his knuckle turned white. He bitterly shook his head and made his way back to his squadron.

"I hope the white pigs would fucking burn this time..."

Wolfsland, Western Front, Federal Republic of Giad, July 28th SY 2149

"All units! Stand fast!" The company commander shouted into his Para-Raid headset.

Vánagandrs of the 12th Company emerged out of their concealed positions and delivered a synchronised and deadly volley of SABOTs into the Legion's Löwe columns. The 20th, 14th and Nineth Vánagandr companies were retreating after their botched attempt to launch a counterattack. Overwhelmed and quickly running low on ammunition, it was up to the 12th to hold the line long enough for Navy close air support to arrive and eradicate the Legion menace.

Unfortunately, the plan spiralled out of control and dissolved into total chaos. The Federacy tanks were spread too far apart and were mercilessly hunted down, each platoon fighting for survival. Skorpions and Dinausorias pinned them down while Löwes and Grauwolves closed in for the kill.

"Damn it all!"

"I'm not letting you take me alive, you bastards!"

"Captain, this is 4-8, it is an honour to die for my homeland!"

On the brink of collapse and pushed to desperation, each Vánagandr crews made their last stand, some going as far as meeting the enemy in a suicide charge. In a matter of minutes all four companies were almost wiped out to the last man.

"Damn it! Where's that fucking air support, sir?!" Eugene could hear Marcus's frustration through the comms.

His and Marcus's walkers were the only ones standing. He led the pair to a better vantage point, hoping to gain some high ground and better cover but as he rounded the corner, he and his company commander came face-to-face with a squadron of Löwes, who seemed to be just as surprised as they are. Their barrels snapped towards the two M4A3 tanks.

"Shit…"

One of the enemy tanks abruptly burst into flames, quickly followed by a second and a third. His proximity radar pinged loudly, indicating a nearby friendly unit. Could it be the Cadians?

A fourth Löwe fell thunderously on the ground, its turret blown off and its chassis lighting up vigorously like a roman candle. A white blur glided by his tank, vaulting on top of an enemy tank and plunging two massive pile drivers through its weaker armour, crumpling it like a sheet of paper.

Eugene immediately recognized the new unit, he had heard rumours and saw a couple of video feeds. It was the colonel Wenzel's new experimental toys.

"Incredible… that's the new Reginleif…"

Without skipping a beat, the beast of a machine crawled at incredible speeds, two massive high-frequency blades spread out as it effortlessly sliced through the enemy. The pilot of the mech was as deadly in close quarters as in longer ranges. Not a single shot was missed.

"Blasted, Eighty-Six…" His commander growled through gritted teeth, "The fucking monsters of the Republic!"

Shin slid down Undertaker's hull and stretched out his arms, making his way to the light transport car while the team of mechanics hauled the Reginleif onto a truck. He adjusted the scarf around his neck and was looking forward for a quick nap in the car until he heard the dreaded voice of a woman.

"Shin!" A very angry woman hollered. "Didn't I just freaking told you to not use those high-frequency blades?" Sergeant Justine Hino scolded sternly, making the young officer wince, "Not only are they expensive but we don't have a lot of spares y'know." She shoved a tablet to his chest to apply and confirm the order for spare parts, "What if the Legion comes back and you ran out of ammo, huh?"

"It's fine." He replied bluntly, "The Legion is retreating soon. The Navy will take care of the stragglers." He explained after signing the request, handing the tablet back to the chief mechanic and heading for the car.

"The hell do you know that?" She asked sarcastically. She fumed as he ignored her inquiry and cast her scowl at the sky.

To her surprise, dawn was showing up. The dark silvery veil of the Legion lifted as the ground forces pulled away from the battlefield… just as Shin predicted.

He got in the Federacy's light armoured vehicle and let himself lean deeper in the comfy leather seat, enjoying the small moment of respite. Unfortunately for him, that respite vanished as soon as it came, sensing a familiar, and annoying, presence in the car.

"Well done, Shinei!" A small voice squeaked from the front passenger seat.

Shin raised an eyebrow as a small figure popped her head over the seat, staring at him with sparkling red eyes and flashing a proud grin. Frederica Rosenfort wore a child-sized formal military dress uniform, with a small side cap over her long messy jet-black hair. Due to her rank as "mascot" in Nordlicht Squadron and obviously her age, her uniform didn't bear the standard steel-grey colour of the Federacy Armed Forces. She was instead issued a custom-made uniform in a white-beige colour tone filled with pockets and multiple pins of the Giadian emblem. For a small and young child, she was surprisingly patriotic to the Federacy.

"You snuck in here again?" He asked incredulously.

"You can't get rid of me by begging the repair crew to help you." The little girl declared with a smug grin.

"I told you not to follow us onto the battlefield," He reprimanded, earning a scowl from Frederica, "You're just a mascot and not a combatant, you should remember that."

"You don't get to tell me that!" She protested heatedly, "A commanding officer isn't supposed to run off to the battlefield alone. It's a bad habit! Bernholdt was complaining."

Shin shifted his bland gaze towards the man in question. The veteran Vargus sergeant was at the driver's seat, listening quietly to the conversation and awaiting Shin's command. Feeling Shin's Pyrope eyes burning at the back of his head, the tall soldier simply shrug in response. He didn't feel guilty nor was he at fault for complaining about Shin's behaviour and command style. Did he question his leadership? Not really, the Eighty-Six rightfully earned his rank and place among Nordlicht squadron. Could Shin have been a better and more mature leader? In Brent Bernholdt mind, yes, there were still room for some improvements.

"Are you listening, Shinei?" The pipsqueak chirped up, "You need to take care of yourself!"

He extended his hand towards her side cap and forcefully shoved it deeper on her head, covering her eyes. She yelped with surprise and tried to get it off, her own hair betraying her as the cap was firmly set.

"Ah! I can't get it off! Bernholdt, aid me!"

"Aye, aye…" The veteran sergeant complied lazily. With one hand, he pulled the cap off her head and lightly rearranged her mess of hair, "But you should really quiet down; everyone's tired after days of fighting."

"Yeah… sorry…"

Shin nodded appreciatively and took off his Para-Raid earpiece, closing his eyes while he basked himself in a light slumber, the Legion's voices of the damned getting weaker as they retreated.

Forward Operating Base 15, Maginot Line, Wolfsland

"What the hell are Nordlicht doing here?" A Giadian soldier sneered.

Eugene perked up and observed the mess hall. The room was filled with light chatter and soldiers from different regiments. Yet one table seemed to be empty. The others avoided it like a plague, while Shin quietly ate by the window with a little girl sitting next to him. The young Federacy officer grabbed his tray of food and made his way towards Nouzen.

"Hey, where are you going, dude?" Erwin Marcel asked.

"Sorry, you eat with the others." Eugene replied curtly.

Shinei Nouzen pensively looked out to the window, enjoying the small peace and quiet and the free meal. Frederica, on the other hand, seemed to struggle finishing her tray; battling against her worst nemesis: mushrooms.

"Can I sit here?" A gentle voice spurred him out of his trance.

"Sure… Eugene?" The fellow Alba he trained with at the academy smiled in response, "You're stationed here?" Shin asked.

"Yup, got transferred here last month." He answered as he sat down, facing him.

Eugene has changed since their last encounter before shipping off to the frontline. Though he still retained his calm and gentle demeanour, Shin did notice that he has gained more confidence and grew some character. He could sense that his comrade went through the baptism of fire and saw the brutal reality of frontline combat.

"It's good to see you again, Shin."

"Yeah."

A small whine interrupted their reunion. Both men turned to the small girl as she stared with disgust the remaining mushrooms in her plate. She grimaced and poked her food with her fork.

"If you can't eat them, don't force yourself." Shin told her bluntly.

"But that would be rude to the kitchen staff…"

The mixed Pyrope-Onyx Eighty-Six grabbed her plate and shoved her remaining food into his own plate. Frederica admired and smiled gleefully. He returned her plate, and she immediately returned to a disgusted grimace. A single mushroom was left behind.

"Then try harder." He shot back coldly and resumed eating.

Eugene Rantz laughed at the scene, enjoying the brotherly tough-love Shin showed to Frederica, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"By the way, I wanted to thank you for this morning. You saved our hides back there." Eugene started.

"Uh. Oh, sorry." Nouzen apologised tiredly, "There were so many requests for help, I didn't notice your unit."

"You've been busy, huh?"

"Busy enough to split off the squadron on multiple fronts."

"Oh! So that explains why there are just the two of you."

While the two officers had their friendly chat, Rosenfort finally summoned her courage and faced her nemesis. She stabbed the mushroom and nervously brought it to her mouth. With tears of pain and repugnance, she chewed on the mushroom and soldiered on through its stale taste. Wanting to forget the horrible ordeal, she faced Eugene as her memory finally sped up to date.

"Hey! I remember you!" She exclaimed.

"Ah, you finally recognised me?" Eugene grinned patiently.

"Of course! I heard you ended up in Shin's battalion at the academy! It must've been hard."

The Alba leaned back on his seat with a playful smile, eyes glimmering with mischief as he gazed at Shin, "Oh yeah. He's really cold, rarely talks. You never know what's on his mind."

Frederica nodded vigorously. Shin stared curiously at the pair as they openly exchanged their complaints about him… in front of him, almost feeling bothered that that was their common ground for this newfound friendship.

After taking a picture of the reunited old friends, the little girl left the mess hall, leaving them alone. Eugene waved goodbye as she walked through the hall's entrance and rounded the corner to her dorm.

Eugene's smile faded and turned towards Shin; his silver eyes filled with concern. "So, she became a mascot, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Jeez, she shouldn't be here, so close to the front. She doesn't have a reason to fight, right? Family, country, justice, making a living… none of that should matter to a kid her age! So, why did she volunteer to be here?"

"You may be right." Shin concurred before staring back out to the countryside.

His Celena friend was staring at his tray pensively, deep in his thoughts.

"How's your sister? Is she doing well?" He asked suddenly, snapping Rantz off his thoughts.

He smiled gratefully, "Yeah, I think. She's kind of lonely 'cause she's staying with my aunt."

"Aunt?"

"Oh, we don't have parents." He explained. His smile was still on, but Shin could see through his façade, the man showed signs of deep sadness and trauma. "I want her to go to a good school, so I need to make money." Eugene produced a small locket and opened it, revealing a tiny picture of his sister.

"It's rough being a big brother."

"Great, isn't she? You can't have her."

"I've already got a little brat." Nouzen said, his mouth curled to a small grin.

Eugene gazed at the picture fondly, holding onto the locket preciously, "I'm going to take her somewhere on my next leave. A zoo or an amusement park. Or shopping! I'm sure she would be delighted to buy new shoes or dresses!"

Shin half-listened to Eugene's plans. He was at least glad to see his friend's spirits gone up just talking about his baby sister. But to him, he shouldn't have joined the military. He should've gotten a safer and more stable job that would allow him to save up in the long run.

With how things are going in the Western front, bodies kept piling up while the Legion's losses meant nothing. Even if they destroyed hundreds of thousands daily, the enemy could simply replenish their numbers with their near infinite resources and without worrying about food, medicine or the population's will to fight. The war isn't going well, and it will get worst, even with the Imperium's help. It was a fight Humanity won't win if the attrition keeps up in the following years. The Legion only had one simple but deadly efficient strategy: to bleed them dry.

He suddenly got up as the voices of the damned grew louder. Eugene stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Crap, was it something that I said?" He asked with genuine concern.

Then alarms blared across the base, prompting everyone to jump into action as they dashed in the assembly area.

"They never give up." Shin commented with a frown.

"I bet girls don't like them." Eugene joked lightly, his voice slightly nervous, "Guess I'll see you later, huh?"

"Yeah. I'll find you." Shin answered.

There was a lull in the fight. The Legion peeled off but for a moment, regrouping to launch another attack. Imperial flyers zoomed over the battlefield as they harass the enemy with gun-runs and strategic bombings, denying favourable passages to the unending horde.

Shin took this opportunity to search for Eugene's unit. Finding what remains of the squadron in a clearing, he observed the devastation in front of him. The squadron was wiped out to the last unit. The Vánagandrs made their last stand here, evident by the mounds of destroyed Legions sprawled chaotically around their position. The Federacy tanks were torn to shreds or horribly mangled, pools of oil and blood mixed into gruesome mires while guts and members could be found near them.

Shin exited the Reginleif, battle rifle in his hands as he scanned for Eugene's tank. He treaded carefully through the cruel graveyard, observing each debris, each corpse, each scrap metal.

A weak groan suddenly caught his ears.

He found Eugene a couple of feet away from a wrecked and smoking Vánagandr. He lied in his own pool of blood. Most of the right side of his body was blown off; his guts and bones spilled out and exposed. Gently, Shin pulled him away from the destroyed tank and rested his friend beside a bed of flowers, still untainted by oil and blood.

"Ni…na… nina…" Eugene muttered dryly, his eyes struggling to keep awake. He could see the eyes were quickly fading, he had a couple of seconds to live… maybe a minute.

Shin calmly looked around for his locket. He finally found his friend's missing arm, forcefully unclasped the fingers and retrieved the locket. He knelt beside him and opened it. Eugene smiled weakly, glad the picture was still intact.

"p-plea-se…"

The Eighty-Six stood up and unholstered his sidearm. He racked the slide, chambering a round and aimed at Eugene's head.

"th-thank… you…" Eugene said with a weak grin despite the pain.

Shin pulled the trigger. The shot rang louder than the distant battlefield and artillery barrages. He silently lingered beside Eugene's cold corpse. Somehow, it felt different. He questioned why. He had done this so many times, probably to hundreds of people, mostly his own kind. What he did was mercy, to end their suffering and to forbid the Legion the chance to assimilate their soul. Eugene asked for it. Yet he felt something. Guilt? Remorse? Exhausted? He managed to numb these feelings for so long that they felt foreign to him. So why did they resurface?

"Nouzen… did you do that?" A stunned voice broke the silence.

He turned his head to the voice and spotted Marcel with another officer. The red-haired man stared at him with distraught and anger. He saw his hand folding into tight fists.

"What the fu-"

"Good timing." Shin interrupted coldly. He handed to him Eugene's dog tags, "Make the casualty report." He instructed before walking away.

Marcel grunted and glared at his back, "You son of a bitch! You could've saved him! You could've saved all of them!" He bellowed with pain and fury in his voice, "You were too busy fighting those hunks of steel, weren't you? Answer me, you psychotic Eighty-Six!"

"That's enough, lieutenant Marcel!" His tank commander reprimanded him sternly. "I apologize and I thank you for what you did to lieutenant Rantz."

"There's no need, captain." Shin replied bluntly.

"But if I may give you some advice: if you enlisted because you wanted to repay us for saving you, there's no need. We won't force poor children like you to fight for us. It's not too late, son, leave the army and live your life, enjoy your freedom and childhood that was stolen from you."

"The Legion's coming back for another assault, captain. I recommend that you regroup with friendly forces and coordinate a defensive stance." Shin replied, hopping into his Reginleif, much to the captain's chagrin.

"What's the situation?" He asked as soon as he resonated with Frederica.

"Not good. Nordlicht has new orders. Gather up at point 27-32 in preparation of a new attack. There won't be any Cadian support. You're all going to be on your own with little support with a company of Giadian infantry."

"Roger that."

There was a pause before the little girl spoke up, her tone more serious.

"Shinei, you're okay, right?"

His Pyrope eyes stared at Eugene's lifeless body, the unfamiliar feeling still clawing at the back of his mind. He's just another casualty, another soldier he saved from the Legion, he tried to reason.

"Yeah." He sighed.

Sankt Glycine Base, Wolfsland, Federal Republic of Giad, August 6th SY 2149

Richard Altner leaned back on his chair as he lights up a cigar. "Willem, you better give me some good news, more importantly…" He stopped as he puffed out a thick trail of smoke above him, "… the whereabouts of that fucking Morpho unit."

"There has been some progress." Willem Ehrenfried answered stoically, hands formally clasped behind his straight posture.

"Progress isn't gonna cut it for the Cadian general." Altner reminded sternly, "That thing's been a thorn on our collective hides, and it is continuously pulverising our boys for a long time. I need actionable intel, general Farestein and the president need actionable intel."

"And we do, general." Ehrenfried assured diplomatically, "Though we haven't pinpoint the Morpho's exact location, we were able to drastically narrow down its possible locations."

Altner's interest piqued. He snuffed out his cigar on the ashtray and leaned forward, staring intently at Willem.

"Okay, I'm listening."

Willem handed him a tablet, displaying the Morpho's known specifications. "Here's what we know so far thanks to the combined reports of the Federacy, the United Kingdom, the Alliance of Wald, the Republic of San Magnolia and the Imperial Navy."

"We are certain that it is a railgun cannon capable of firing 800mm shells at Mach 23 velocity at over 400 kilometres. Despite that, it can only fire twice before stopping for about 15 hours. My guess is that either it needs to replace its cannon, or it requires a substantial amount of energy, likely electricity, to power up its cannon again."

"That means that it needs to be near a large power plant." Altner presumed.

"Correct. Not only that, but it did tend to relocate quite rapidly to avoid any counter-artillery fire. I've concluded that the Morpho is likely a train-based unit, able to use our old high-speed rail network unimpeded."

"And what do you know? Most of our old power plants are located near railway stations, outside major settlements and just far enough to hit each capital city." The one-eyed general continued with a grin, "Willem, you intelligent sonovabitch."

"As much as we can all hear the ice in the glass, I'm afraid the toast has to wait." The pureblood Onyx officer forewarned ominously, "We still don't have any course of action to eliminate it, nor do we know with certainty that there is only one Morpho and not multiples." He explained.

"Can't we just launch our cruise missiles?" Altner proposed. "Or coordinate with the Imperial Navy for an orbital bombardment?"

"While that does sound tempting, it would be more wasteful than we would've liked. Launching cruise missiles not only costs us a lot of money, but with the Legion still jamming our guidance systems, there's high probability that our missiles might just miss. In addition, being that the Morpho is a potent and valuable asset to the Legion, we can expect that the enemy will protect it with heavy tanks and anti-air units."

"That means that striking it from the air is a gamble and launching a ground assault a suicidal mission." Altner concluded grimly.

"Exactly." Willem nodded stoically, "Our best chance is either lure it closer to the front, which is quite frankly impossible, or to send a small kill team deep in Legion territory to either mark it for orbital strikes or destroy it up close."

Altner frowned at the idea. They were already taking heavy losses, even with the nations finally united and the Imperium's help, the Legion is simply too vast and numerous. The enemy could easily replenish its losses in a week while Giadian soldiers needed to be trained from four to fourteen weeks depending on their jobs. And even if each nation issued a mass conscription policy, it still wouldn't be enough to stem the Legion tide. The enemy will eventually win in this war of attrition, slowly bleeding the human population of this world dry. They need to take swift actions, to strike a powerful blow to the enemy, but it requires sacrifices… a lot of sacrifices.

"I'll submit your findings and intel to the president and general Farestein, and it would be up to them to decide our next plan of attack. We just have to wait and pray that taking out the Morpho will significantly gives us some advantage… or some breathing room at worst."

Undisclosed territory, location unknown, August 23rd SY 2149

++NO FACE TO PALE RIDER – NEW OBJECTIVE: RELOCATE TO STRIKE POSITION OSCAR 78-4 BRAVO - DESTROY ENEMY INSTALLATIONS++

++PALE RIDER TO NO FACE – COMPLIED – FIRE SOLUTION PORTED – MOVING TO COORDINATES++

++NO FACE TO ALL UNITS – GENERAL MOBILISATION INITIATED – LAUNCH FOR LARGE SCALE OFFENSIVE – MISSION: EXTERMINATE THE REPUBLIC OF SAN MAGNOLIA++

First Ward, Eastern Front, Republic of San Magnolia

Commissar Rayne barged into the psykers' barrack, sternly glaring at a pale and shivering Edyth. The young psyker had a wild and violent episode of hysteria before collapsing to the ground, bleeding from her nose. Castinus has urgently beckoned the Commissar and the rest of the squad for help. He reported that Edyth was spouting gibberish and screaming in agony for several seconds.

Her menacing shadow towered over the frail psyker. Edyth Rosemary breathed feverishly, wincing at each movement while Lyonaal tried to calm her nerves. Weiss knelt beside her and placed a careful hand on her forehead. She immediately retracted her hand.

"Cadia's Gate! She's burning up, ma'am." She stated with slight concern.

Rayne nodded quietly, "Understood. Krann, give me your sidearm." She ordered coldly.

"What?" The Moebian veteran asked in bewilderment, "Surely you don't mean that she's getting possessed now, is she?"

"That wasn't a fucking suggestion, Krann!" Rayne barked furiously, startling both Krann and Castinus, "Your laspistol, now."

Obediently, he unholstered his sidearm and surrendered it to the commissar. She flicked the safety swift and stared back at Edyth, laspistol primed in her hand. Weiss and Lyonaal shuffled out of her way, leaving Edyth to her own fate.

"Alright, Edyth, you have a minute to explain. Don't force me to deliver the Emperor's mercy if I ever suspect a whiff of heretical possession. Speak. Now."

Edyth gathered herself and swallowed nervously, "It's… it's the voices, ma'am… the enemy… they are numerous and are closing fast…"

"There's an incoming attack. Here?"

Edyth shook her head, "Not just here… everywhere… the voices of the damned… they are all calling for vengeance. I can hear their fury…"

The commissar looked at the other two psykers, "I know you aren't as sensitive as her, but do you hear it too?"

Both nodded hesitantly, "Their voices are gnawing at the back of my mind and growing louder." Castinus confirmed vocally, perturbed by the experience.

"Shite… is this it?" Krann asked.

Rayne calmly handed back his laspistol and turned on her heels towards the exit, "Initiate the contingency plan; I want all of you aboard the Storm Wyvern in ten minutes. I'll warn headquarters that the large-scale offensive has begun."