86--EIGHTY-SIX (Light Novel)
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Vol. 1 Ch. 3 Table of contents

Half a month had passed since Lena took on the role of the "Spearhead" curator.

On that day, there were no sorties or casualties, and the girl casually adjusted her para-raid to conduct another evening communication session. She always conversed with the processors from her room right after dinner.

In the past half-month, the Spearhead processors had undertaken more sorties than any other squadron, yet managed to avoid casualties. One couldn't expect anything less from an elite unit of veterans.

"To all squadron members. Excellent work today."

A background noise akin to the distant murmur of a crowd echoed through the para-raid. It probably emanated from the hangar, or perhaps it was the echoes of nocturnal battles elsewhere — either way, as soon as the processors spoke up, the noise disappeared.

"Thank you too, Curator One."

 

As always, the first to respond was Undertaker. His voice was eerily calm and quiet — one wouldn't guess he was known as the "God of Death."

Presence of several other processors could be felt on the other end, some greeting Lena after Undertaker.

Wolf. The deputy commander, foul-mouthed but a big brother figure to the other processors.

Sakura. Childishly naive, yet the most empathetic, reliable, and honest.

Black Dog. The jester and instigator.

Snow Witch. Soft-spoken and polite.

Laughing Fox. Kind, with a voice akin to a young girl's and a sharp tongue.

Undertaker, as Lena had noticed from the start, was reserved and hardly engaged in small talk. Yet, the processors who contacted her every evening seemed to be close to him in some way. Besides them, there were several soldiers nearby, indicating the commander was likely universally respected.

"Undertaker, I'd like to address your recent inquiry about the next supply replenishment first..."

Raiden passed the time with crossword puzzles from a magazine found in the ruins, listening to the curator and Shin's work discussions.

He sat in the commander's room, inside the barracks, covered in blackened paint. Several others gathered around, each occupied with their own tasks. Seo was lost in sketches, Hart, Kaye, and Krena were playing cards, Anju was leisurely knitting lace, and Daiya was determinedly trying to fix the radio. The mess hall and adjacent rooms were bustling too, echoing with sounds of merriment.

Shin occupied the largest room in the barracks, serving both as his personal space and office for paperwork like reports. Raiden came here to discuss squadron matters with the commander, and other kids often dropped by, turning this room into one of the common meeting spots.

The room's occupant was concerned only with having a place to read, appearing indifferent to everything happening around. If he paid any attention to the cat, it was as if he didn't notice the others at all, even if a quarrel erupted after a game of chess, or if someone danced the belly dance right in front of him (Kujo and Daiya had actually tried this). Right now, he assumed his usual position in the corner on the metal bed, with a pillow under his back, quietly reading an old novel borrowed from an unknown library, exchanging phrases with the curator. The black-and-white socked kitten was also in its evening position — snugly stretched out on Shin's chest.

"How peaceful it is here," thought Raiden as he took a sip of coffee from the mug. It was the usual coffee substitute for everyone in the Spearhead, made from dandelions growing in the backyard, and yet it was much better than that suspicious liquid from the black powder with an incomprehensible taste synthesized at the factory.

"...I wonder if my old lady would like this coffee?"

She always disregarded rules, principles, or wealth, and only coffee was her passion.

They tried to reproduce her favorite kind in the 85th district, but it tasted little different from synthetic coffee in concentration camps or military bases.

I wonder, does she still choke on this tasteless synthetic crap every morning and call it dirty water?

And does she still cry over us?

The kitten let out a plaintive meow, as if trying to drown out the curator's bell-like voice.

Lena paused mid-sentence and blinked.

"Is that... a cat?"

"Yes, he lives in the barracks," replied Black Dog.

"By the way, I picked him up. Right after I got here. He got thrown and landed right at my feet, still squealing. There was only one pancake left from his mom with brothers, and he managed to survive."

"Yeah, but for some reason, he's attached to Undertaker the most."

"And that's even though he never plays with him and just brushes him off with a pat when he starts to cuddle."

"Maybe he hasn't attached himself, he just thinks Undertaker is the most convenient to sleep on. Just like now, look at them."

"Yeah, all because Undertaker doesn't move when he reads. Well, then he'll never get used to Black Dog, too much noise from him."

"How rude... and unfair! I want it too! Sob-sob!"

The processors started fooling around, and Lena couldn't help but laugh. Right now, they looked like ordinary boys and girls, her peers. She couldn't believe she was somewhere else.

"And what's his name?" she asked.

Everyone who was currently on the line in the para-raid replied simultaneously.

"Kuro*."

"Shiro*."

"Nike*."

"Chibi*."

"Kitty."

"Remark."

"...Naming the cat after the author of the book you're reading is certainly the height of indifference, but what you're reading is even worse..."

The last phrase was uttered by Laughing Fox. He was the only one who didn't offer his nickname.

Meanwhile, Lena stopped understanding what was being discussed.

"So... do you have many cats?"

"I told you, only one survived."

Lena was thoroughly confused, but Black Dog came to her rescue.

"This is a black cat with white paws. So, someone calls him black, someone white, and someone — bicolor. Besides, he doesn't have an adopted name, and everyone can call him whatever they like. Recently, he learned to respond just to the sound of the voice."

"Now it makes sense."

"But why did it turn out like this?"

"Well, you see..."

Black Dog seemed to hesitate for a moment.

And then abruptly disconnected the para-raid.

Krena suddenly got up, kicked the chair with her foot, and left the room. Daiya was closest to the exit, and he rushed after her.

The chair fell to the floor with a loud thud.

"...Uh, what happened?"

Daiya's para-raid was already turned off, and Krena hadn't turned hers on from the beginning. Shin hurriedly responded to smooth things over:

"Mm. Yeah, a mouse ran out."

"A mouse?!"

"...Yeah, the height of indifference," murmured Seo. His remark, apparently, went unheard by the curator.

"A mouse ran out?"

"Yeah, he's not good with that."

The room filled with agitated voices, and Shin absentmindedly answered them, looking at the tilted door that closed behind Krena.

At the end of the corridor, Daiya caught up with Krena, and she said curtly:

"Why is everyone... with her? I can't stand her voice, it makes me sick. These evenings used to be our time, so important, pleasant, and hardly carved out."

"Krena..."

"Why does everyone talk to that girl?"

"It's only temporary. Soon the princess herself will stop contacting us."

Daiya shrugged and looked at her incredibly seriously, as if all the fun before that was fake. History will repeat itself. Not a single curator could endure the God of Death.

The curator still doesn't know how Shin got his nickname, really. She hasn't had to deal with those yet, but her luck won't last long.

Black sheep among the ordinary whites. Dangerous others.

They were called black for their rarity, but now there were even more of them than whites.

And even more dangerous shepherds.

Krena gritted her teeth. She understood, but still.

"Shin would be better off cutting ties with her," she said with undisguised annoyance. "We don't need to waste time on the white pigs. It'd be better to set the para-raid to minimum settings..."

"Well, that's usually what they do. But Shin seems to be fine with everything, and he's not planning to cut anything off."

On the front lines, it's always so noisy that most processors prefer to set their para-raid to the lowest synchronization level, allowing for normal communication only within the nearest territory.

"But that's not even the point. Can you directly tell Shin about all this? Ask him to stop communicating with her because you don't like it?" Daiya asked quietly. There was no irony in his tone, only concern.

Krena bit her lip. Daiya was right. It wouldn't be appropriate.

Everyone in the squadron considers Shin a member of the family. And you can't make the family worry.

Shin's life already had enough horrors.

"Sorry... but I just can't forgive them. They killed my mother and father. Shot them like targets in a shooting range."

It happened on the night they were supposed to be escorted to the camp. Several soldiers from Alb were betting on where they could hit and how many tortures the victim could endure before dying. They laughed while torturing her parents, and then killed them.

Her older sister was sent to the front immediately upon arrival at the camp. There was a seven-year age difference between them, but 15-year-old Krena had already surpassed her in rank.

That same night, some soldier from Selena chased away those scumbags, tried to help her parents, and when it became clear they couldn't be saved, apologized to her and her sister. He was covered in her mother's and father's blood.

"All white pigs — scum... I'll never forgive them."

Daiya and Krena soon returned. By that time, the conversation about mice had flowed into a discussion of the situation on the front lines, then retelling some tales, and ultimately Kaye's story about how she once saw a meteor shower.

Meeting Raiden's gaze, Daiya shrugged briefly and returned to fixing the radio. Krena sat on the floor near Shin and took the kitten — hardly out of a desire to play with him.

Shin moved over, making space on the bed, and offered Krena to sit next to him. She lifted the kitten onto her lap and, strangely enough, agreed. Maintaining a indifferent expression, she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you serious, Sakura? Were there really that many stars?"

"So many that they couldn't be counted. It was two years ago, they were falling everywhere to the horizon. The sky was filled with shooting lights — it was a beautiful sight."

Kaye, nodding, dealt cards, including to Krena, who had left her seat at the table.

Raiden had also seen that meteor shower, but it was in the midst of the battlefield, amidst the wreckage of friends and foes, and only Shin was nearby. The already grim situation was exacerbated by the fact that their juggernaut engines had stalled, and they couldn't move until they were found by the missing Faid.

Krena clenched her teeth. She understood, but still.

"Shin would be better off cutting ties with her," she said with undisguised irritation. "As if we needed to waste time on white pigs. It would be better to set minimal settings on the para-raid..."

"Well, usually that's what they do. But it seems like Shin is okay with everything, and he's not planning on cutting ties."

On the frontlines, it's always so noisy that most processors prefer to set the para-raid to the lowest level of synchronization, allowing for normal communication only within the nearest vicinity.

"It's not even about that. Can you directly tell Shin about everything? Ask him to stop communicating with her because you don't like it?" Daiya asked quietly. There was no irony in his tone, only concern.

Krena bit her lip. Daiya was right. It wouldn't be appropriate.

Everyone in the squadron considers Shin a member of the family. And you can't make the family worry.

In Shin's life, there were already plenty of horrors.

"I'm sorry... But I just can't forgive them. They killed my mother and father. They shot at them like targets at a shooting range."

It happened on the night they were supposed to be escorted to the camp. Several soldiers from Alba were betting on who would hit where, and how much torture the victim would endure before dying. They laughed as they tortured her parents, and then they killed them.

Her older sister was sent to the frontlines immediately upon arrival at the camp. There was a seven-year age gap between them, but 15-year-old Krena had already outranked her in service.

That same night, some soldier from Selena drove those bastards away, tried to help her parents, and when it became clear they couldn't be saved, he apologized to her and her sister. He was covered in her mother's and father's blood.

"All those white pigs... I'll never forgive them."

Daiya and Krena soon returned. By that time, the conversation about the mice had shifted to discussing the situation on the frontlines, then retelling some stories, and ultimately, Kaiye's tale of seeing a meteor shower long ago.

Meeting eyes with Raiden, Daiya shrugged briefly and returned to repairing the radio. Krena sat on the floor not far from Shin and took the kitten — probably not out of a desire to play with it.

Shin scooted over, making room on the bed, and offered Krena to sit next to him. She picked up the kitten and, strangely enough, agreed. Maintaining a neutral expression, she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Seriously, Sakura? Were there really that many stars?"

"So many that you couldn't count. It was two years ago, they were falling everywhere, all the way to the horizon. The sky was full of shooting lights — it was a beautiful sight."

Kaiye nodded, smiling slightly, dealing cards, including to Krena, who had left her seat at the table.

Raiden had also seen that meteor shower, but it was in the midst of the battlefield, among the wreckage of friends and foes, with only Shin nearby. And the already grim situation was compounded by the fact that their Jaeger engines had stalled, and they couldn't move until they were found by a missing Faid.

A bitter smirk formed on Kaye's lips.

"I am Orient. In the camp, and in previous places of service, I've seen all sorts."

"And not just me. Anju, and probably Shin too, even though he's silent."

Eighty-Six often vented their dissatisfaction with life on those whose blood flows with Alb or imperial lineage, which became the pretext for the formation of camps, or simply aristocrats. For some inexplicable reason, those from the least populous eastern and southeastern regions of the Republic were also targeted.

Eighty-Six were not just innocent victims.

The world is always cruel to the weak and the few.

"In any case, I've never seen good Albs myself, but I know those who have. So I don't hate Albs simply because they're Albs."

"Oh, is that so?... I want to apologize for those among us who have hurt you."

Kaye leaned forward slightly, forgetting she was speaking over the pararaid, not face-to-face.

"I also have a question. Why are you so concerned about us?"

Suddenly, a picture of raging flames flashed before Shin's eyes, and he looked up.

He didn't remember any fires or burnt people, which meant it was the curator's memory.

"A long time ago, my life was saved by a processor, one of your comrades..."

Lena immersed herself in memories.

"We are citizens of the Republic, born and raised in this country."

"Though we aren't recognized now, it's just another reason to prove it. Defending our country is the proud duty of a citizen. That's why we fight."

He saved her, that person. And she thought she wanted to live, guided by his words.

"He said he fights to prove he's a citizen of the Republic. I believe we Albs should live according to those words. We acknowledge the war, but we don't even try to see it with our own eyes and get to know you better... That's unacceptable."

The curator's words were beautiful — almost too much — and Raiden involuntarily squinted.

Kaye listened to the curator, tilting her head slightly to the side in thought, and opened her mouth in contemplation when silence fell.

"Curator One. You seem to have preserved your innocence..."

A sound came through the pararaid, as if the curator had choked on tea or something similar. Everyone connected burst into laughter immediately.

Krena and Hart, who were not connected to the pararaid, looked puzzled at the others. Anju explained what happened, and they laughed too.

The girl-curator couldn't seem to stop coughing.

In response to the reaction following her words, Kaye blinked and paled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I misspoke! I meant to say, your reasoning is innocent!"

In such moments, one cannot afford to misspeak. Subsequent explanations are meaningless.

Daya and Hart seemed to be dying as they pounded their hands on the table and the wall (a voice from beyond the wall sounded irritated — "stop making noise!"), and even Shin's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

Kaye looked completely bewildered.

"Well, um... It's like the words of a girl who thinks the world is a flowery meadow, or someone who floats in their perfect fantasies... In short, I meant to say that..."

The curator blushed and froze as if turned to stone.

"...You're not a bad person. That's why I want to give you advice."

After calming down a bit, Kaye continued:

"You're not suitable for this position. You shouldn't get attached to us. We fight not because of some lofty ideals, so it's better to leave us alone... Find a replacement. Otherwise, you'll be disappointed."

Kaye said she was not a bad person.

Not good, but not bad.

At that moment, Lena couldn't understand why.

†

"Curator One to all squadron members. Enemy units detected on the radar."

That day, the "Spearhead" was on a full sortie. Lena reported data from the screen in the command room.

"The main forces are represented by Lions and Gray Wolves, with support from Bulls..."

"I'm aware, Curator One. Preparing an ambush at point 478."

"Uh... Roger that, Gravekeeper."

She was about to report the enemy's location and suggest interception strategy, but after being interrupted mid-sentence, she became flustered and simply gave the go-ahead for the Gravekeeper's actions.

The "Spearhead" consisted of veterans who didn't need her guidance, so Lena's main task was to create all conditions for them to unleash their combat potential. She analyzed information about the enemies, ensured the fastest possible delivery of necessary supplies, visited the information center daily to find detailed information about various combat zones.

In recent days, she had been constantly sending requests for permission to use long-range projectiles stored in the rear. They could help alleviate the pressure from the Scorpions and ease the battles, but the snag was that their use was impossible without reloading after each shot. The transport department didn't seem particularly eager to spend extra time and labor for the "Eighty-Six," so all her requests were rejected. "Those projectiles have probably rusted by now," said the Laughing Fox when she dared to complain about her futile attempts.

"Gravekeeper, Marksman in position."

"Laughing Fox to Gravekeeper. Third squad also in position."

Gradually, all squads took their designated positions. The formation was perfect, as if the Legion's route was right before their eyes.

The processors of the "Spearhead" acted as if they could predict enemy attacks and movement routes. Moreover, they likely operated based on their own, unknown signs and criteria.

"I'll have to ask them about this after the battle," thought Lena. If she shared these observations with other squadrons, it could reduce the number of deaths from unexpected attacks. A huge flaw in the Republic's shaky war strategy was precisely that valuable combat information never left individual regions, and no one even attempted to gather and disseminate it.

Turning away from these thoughts, Lena examined the map of the first combat zone, found only the previous evening.

"Gravekeeper, move the Marksman's position 500 meters to the 3 o'clock direction. There's a hill there where we can hide. The firing zone from this point is much wider."

There was a brief pause.

"Understood... Marksman, do you see this point?"

"One moment, 10 seconds... Yes, I see it. Changing position."

"The hill is on the opposite side from where the main forces, represented by the first squad, are located. Since the main tactic of the Gravekeeper is to sow discord among enemy ranks and destroy machines one by one, this could work in your favor by misleading the enemy about your true position and giving you room to maneuver."

The Werewolf smirked.

"So it's a trap, then? Not bad for a princess with such a voice."

"...The Lions and Bulls can't change the vertical firing angle. They won't be able to hit the Marksman if she's on the hill, and the nearest terrain will provide cover in case of retreat to another point..."

"Who would've thought. Not a bad suggestion, right, Marksman?"

"I'm ready for anything if it really helps others," the girl replied curtly and coldly turned to Lena. "Did you find a new map? That's helpful."

Lena smiled sadly. This girl, the Marksman, clearly disliked her: she didn't participate in the daily conversations on the para raid, and when they had to talk, she didn't hide her annoyance.

Lena had at her disposal a detailed map from the time of the first war, the creation of which clearly took a lot of time and effort. Nowadays, such maps are not even used in key defensive points like military bases on the front lines. The processors from the "Spearhead" use a map found by their predecessors in some ruins and constantly make corrections to it. It indicates the most convenient ambush points, as well as obvious routes for attacks, but processors are often poorly informed about the terrain.

"I can send it to you later."

The map was too large to send during battle, so it was better to do it later, in a calm environment.

The Werewolf remarked mockingly, "Oh, really? Can you send a secret military map to the enemies of the people, 'Eighty-Six'?"

"It doesn't matter. What's the use of it if it's not being used?"

The Werewolf fell silent, as if caught off guard, and sighed deeply. It seemed he approved of her words.

Lena found this map by sifting through a mountain of cardboard boxes, and it was still officially listed as lost. Undoubtedly, passing any copies of it would equate to theft, but since the map doesn't officially exist, there can be no leakage of classified information.

Nine years ago, the Republic lost its entire regular army down to the rearguard, so many military documents were lost.

Honor and professionalism of the military also remained somewhere there, on the fields of past battles.

"Besides, you're not 'Eighty-Six.' At least, I've never called you that..."

"Yeah, yeah... They're coming."

A tense pause hung in the para raid. Lena felt that several people were even experiencing some amusement — whether from the adrenaline rush before the imminent clash or from the fact that battles had long become routine for them.

The roar of artillery echoed inside each of them and reached Lena through the para raid.

The battle developed swiftly, and the Legion's red dots on the radar extinguished one by one.

The processors of the "Spearhead" used the first squad to lure the enemies into the nearest impassable forests, primarily dealing with the Bulls, which were characterized by poor maneuverability and defense despite being well-armed. Then it was the turn of the Grey Wolves and Lions, whose remnants gradually turned into piles. There were many obstacles in the forest, and the Lions, who were slow to adapt to the new environment, couldn't display their maneuverability there, and their firing zone significantly narrowed. Due to the lack of free space, the Legion had to split into small groups, and its overwhelming numerical advantage ceased to play any role.

From the outside, it seemed like the processors had long gotten used to such tactics, but in reality, it wasn't the case. Sakura's Juggernaut barely managed to dodge the projectile, veered towards the forest, and now rushed at full speed towards the Lion, aiming for its left side.

Lena flinched. Something was wrong with the Lion's position. Judging by the positions of the other enemy machines, it shouldn't have been there. Lions always positioned themselves to cover each other, but from this point, it was impossible.

Lena hurriedly checked the route on the terrain map.

"Oh no, Sakura, you can't go there!"

"Huh?"

It was too late.

Sakura's dot on the radar froze unnaturally.

"...Is that a swamp?!" Kaye yelled, shaking her head from side to side to focus—everything was blurry before her eyes. Due to the sudden stop, her Juggernaut tilted forward and half-sank into the ground with its two front limbs. In the darkness of the forest, the small marsh looked like a meadow. There couldn't have been a worse place for a Juggernaut with its high ground pressure.

"If I reverse, maybe I can get out."

She gripped both control levers...

"Sakura, get out of there!"

Hearing Shin, she raised her head. The optical sensor turned upward following her gaze.

Right in front of her stood the Lion.

"...Oh!"

She was within the minimum range of engagement, and the Lion raised its front limbs over her. It acted calmly and mercilessly, like a well-oiled machine, grinding its victims without heeding their pleas.

"No..."

Her weak voice sounded like a cry of a small child.

"I don't want to die..."

The Lion's huge limbs, capable of easily carrying a load of 50 tons, struck the ground in parallel with a crash.

The cabin's detachable lantern, with its weak fastenings, easily detached under the influence of great force, taking with it whatever was inside the cabin. This feature earned it the processors' scornful nickname, the guillotine. And now it activated.

Something round fell to the ground with a dull thud and disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

A moment of stunned silence, and anger merged with sorrow.

"Sakura?!... Damn it!!!"

"Mogul, I'm going to get her. Give me a minute! I can't leave her there!"

Shin's voice was absolutely calm. Calm like the frozen depths of a lake on a winter night:

"You can't, Snow Witch... It's a trap. There's an ambush there."

The Lion that killed Kaye was still lurking nearby. It was a standard strategy, initially used by snipers—a wounded or dead soldier becomes bait, and those who come to help are picked off.

Anju sobbed and angrily hit the instrument panel, which responded with a dull thud. The 57mm high-explosive shell she fired exploded, engulfing Sakura and the nearby area of the forest in flames. It was the least she could do.

"Sakura is dead. Fafnir, assist the 4th squad. There aren't many enemies left. We'll mourn the loss later, but right now, we need to pull ourselves together."

"Copy that."

There was indignation in the response, but no one succumbed to it. 'Eighty-Six' had long grown accustomed to watching comrades die before their eyes or on the radar screen, where a friendly dot suddenly changed to "signal lost." Grieving had to wait until after the battle; otherwise, you'd also perish—it was a rule that helped push emotions aside and maintain the cold reason so necessary in such moments. It wasn't human thinking, but that of a war machine, and only it helped survive in the madness of war.

The momentarily paused quadrupedal spiders moved into the forest again with a dreadful metallic clatter.

The eerie darkness surrounded them, and they crept through it like skeletons, eager to strangle a new victim and send it after their fallen comrade.

And soon after that, the Legion's forces were literally obliterated.

They weren't given a chance to retreat.

Lena felt the strength of the remaining processors' will, and sorrow gripped her heart like a vice.

In her memory surfaced yesterday's—just yesterday—conversation about the meteor shower and her own proud words. Regret washed over her.

"If only I had found the map earlier..."

"If only I had warned them in time..."

"The operation is complete... To all members of the squadron—good job."

No one responded to her. Everyone was experiencing their own grief right now.

"What happened to Sakura... I'm sorry. If only I had performed better..."

A momentary pause.

A chilling silence fell on the other side of the para-raid.

"...Sorry?"

It was the Laughing Fox. His voice was quiet, but there were shrill undertones in it, as if he were trying to hold back an imminent explosion.

"What are you sorry for? One pig died or two—what's the difference to you if you'll forget about it over dinner at home? Sweet voice and empty words!"

For a moment, she couldn't grasp the meaning of what was said.

Lena froze, and the Fox kept on speaking, repeatedly drawing breath to continue. He no longer hid his hatred, and his words were merciless.

— I'm getting bored here, so I decided to play the saint. It's so much fun, being the only one who doesn't treat you like pigs, the embodiment of virtue, honor, and mercy. And I'll even talk to you when I feel like it! But now, listen to what I have to say. We just lost a comrade here. And at such a moment, your hypocrisy makes everyone sick, do you understand?

— But...

Hypocrisy?

— Or what? Do you think we don't care about the death of a comrade? Oh, well, what can you expect from "Eighty-Six"? They're not as wonderful as you, not even human, just pigs, right?!

— No...

Lena's head felt empty from the unexpectedness of it all.

— It's not true! I didn't...

— Not true? What's not true? You threw us here and forced us to fight, using us as weapons, while you comfortably settled behind the wall, imagining yourselves as superior beings! You enjoy what happens to us with an impassive face—if that's not pig-like behavior, then what is it?!

The para-raid transmitted the processors' emotions.

Some people remained indifferent, but others, including the Laughing Fox, exuded coldness—some more, some less. Cold hatred, contempt, or despair.

— You never once called us "Eighty-Six"? Well, maybe not openly! "Defending your country is a proud citizen's duty, you must remember that"! What's that supposed to mean?! Do you hope we'll fight for you? You hid and forced us to fight by force! How many millions of people have you killed in these 9 years?! Do you think a few kind words every day are enough for us to believe that you treat us like humans? And this while people continue to die! You...

And then he mercilessly presented his final argument.

She thought she was talking to them as equals, like humans. But the Fox provided the definitive proof that it was an illusion, and they remained pigs to her:

— You didn't even bother to ask our names!

Lena gasped.

She tried to remember and froze in disbelief. He was right. She didn't know. She didn't ask. Not from the Gravekeeper, who answered her first, nor even from Sakura, who was more willing to talk to her than anyone else. Of course, she didn't reveal her own name either. Curator One. The person who oversees the processors.

If they had agreed to address each other by callsigns, it would have been different, but she didn't ask them anything, and that was an unforgivable offense.

All this time, she had been getting by without knowing their names. Nothing had ever bothered her before.

"Deal with livestock appropriately."

That's what her mother used to say, and that's how she had behaved until now. The only difference between them was that Lena didn't say it out loud...

She trembled all over. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she pressed both palms tightly against her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her pitiful wails. She had mindlessly and shamelessly humiliated people, and from this inner ugliness, she felt terrified.

The Wolf, or rather, some young man from the Colorata whose name and face she didn't know, quietly intervened in the argument:

— Seo.

— Raiden! Are you defending this white pig?!..

— Seeeo.

— ...I understand.

The Laughing Fox fell silent and abruptly turned off the para-raid.

The Wolf sighed deeply, as if relieved of accumulated emotions, and addressed her.

— Curator One. Please deactivate the para-raid.

— Wolf, I...

— The battle is over. You're no longer obligated to control us... The Laughing Fox may have overstepped, but we're really not in the mood for socializing right now.

He spoke with detachment and without any hint of accusation, but it made Lena feel even worse.

He didn't blame her. He didn't blame her because he accepted it. He accepted the role of a pig in human guise, which is deaf to everything said to it and only pretends to understand the words of others, even Lena's words.

— ...I'm sorry, — she finally replied with a trembling voice and, after a short pause, turned off the para-raid. Still, no one answered her.

After the curator cut off communication with the entire squad, Seo felt terrible.

After some time, Anju contacted him.

— Seo-kun...

— ...I know, — Seo grumbled. His own voice sounded childish to him, and he irritably pouted.

— I understand your feelings, but that was too much. However right you may have been, you shouldn't have spoken like that.

— I understand... I'm sorry.

He understood. They all agreed that such behavior was unacceptable, so they agreed to remain silent. He remembered this even before he started speaking, but he couldn't help himself.

He said everything he wanted, with the rudest words he could think of, but it not only failed to calm him down, but it also further inflamed him. He was ready to lash out even at his comrades, although they were not to blame for his anger, and no one meant more to him.

He broke the agreement. Such an important agreement, and all because of that white pig.

But he couldn't help it.

— ...Commander?

— ...Hmm.

He remembered that broad back once again.

It was the commander of his first squadron, which he joined at the age of 12.

The commander was a big joker, and everyone despised him. Seo hated him too back then.

It was from him that Seo inherited his callsign. On the commander's juggernaut, right under the cabin's lamp, a cheerful laughing fox was drawn, and no matter how much Seo tried to redraw the corners of its mouth with his inexperienced hand, he couldn't do it, and eventually, the fox's smile turned into a sardonic smirk.

This white pig, reminding him of the commander with its cheerfulness, pretended to be a holy benefactor and hypocritically mourned Kaye's death. Seo couldn't let it go.

Yet, after expressing everything he thought to the curator, he felt remorse.

— ...I'm sorry, Kaye.

He looked at the burning remains of Sakura's juggernaut and lowered his eyes. Seo had long grown accustomed to his friends dying, as well as to not being able to dig graves for them or retrieve their bodies.

— I acted like a pig and insulted your death.

You endured so much. And you held on to the end with dignity, without uttering a word of complaint.

In those days, when someone died, all the soldiers dispersed or grouped together to mourn the loss in one way or another, so in the evening, Shin's room was empty.

The Gravekeeper sat at the table, illuminated only by the cold blue light of stars and the moon — the room's light was turned off as unnecessary. Shin's bloody-red eyes were closed, but a soft knock on the window made him open them again.

Underneath the barrack's window, Faid was discovered — he froze, extending his telescopic limb to the level of the second floor where the room was located. In the manipulator at the end of the limb, a metal fragment about a few centimeters thick was clamped.

— Thank you.

— Pi.

Shin took the fragment, and Faid, blinking his optical sensor, turned with a clatter. Now his task was to take the collected remains — and he was loaded to the maximum — to the regenerative furnace at the automatic factory.

As soon as Shin placed the fragment on the pre-prepared fabric, his para-raid activated.

He managed to reach out to untie the primitive tools wrapped in the fabric, but for a second, he froze and raised an eyebrow. Synchronization occurred only with him alone; no one else on the base was in contact.

— ….

The para-raid was working, but no one said anything, and Shin, sighing sadly, decided to start first. There was a sense of despair on the other side.

— Do you need something, Curator One?

He felt her shoulders tremble, but she still didn't answer. Deciding not to break the hesitant silence, Shin calmly waited for her to say something.

He resumed the interrupted task, and quite some time had passed before the curator girl finally timidly responded.

She spoke with a thin voice, as if fearing a harsh rejection, while Shin listened, continuing to work.

"Um..."

"If he declines, I'll disconnect right away," Lena thought.

With this thought in mind, Lena activated the pararayd, but upon encountering the familiar cold voice, she became frightened.

Many times she had gathered her courage to say something, and eventually she managed to squeeze out:

"Um, Shin. Are you busy right now?"

"No. You can speak," he replied quietly and calmly, his tone expressing nothing.

For the first time, Lena thought that he spoke not out of his inherent restraint, but because he was indifferent to her.

Once again, something inside her seemed to tighten, but she pulled herself together and tried to apologize.

In reality, this was also cowardice.

From the very beginning, she intended to apologize to all of them, but Smiling Fox or Shapeshifter probably wouldn't have listened, so she never dared to contact them.

"I'm sorry. For what happened during the day, and for everything before that. I'm really ashamed... I..."

Her hands clenched tightly on her knees.

"I'm Lena. Vladilena Mirize. It's late for introductions, but... Could you tell me your name and the names of your comrades?"

Silence ensued.

Lena felt uneasy. The distant, indistinct noise only emphasized the prevailing silence.

"If the words of Smiling Fox affected you..."

Absolute indifference. He seemed to state dry facts.

"... then I must inform you that there's no need for that. It's not what everyone would want. You didn't create the situation we're in, and it's beyond your power to change it, I understand that. There's no need to take accusations to heart for not doing what you couldn't."

"But... I showed disrespect by not even attempting to learn your names."

"There was no need for that either. Why do you think in the pararayd, which cannot be intercepted by the Legion, only call signs are officially used, and the personal data of processors is classified information?"

Lena's lips tightened into a thin line. The answer was unpleasant but very simple.

"Because curators shouldn't see people in processors," she replied.

"Correct. Most processors perish before even lasting a year. A curator alone cannot bear such a number of deaths—hence this rule."

"But that's cowardice! I..."

She noticed that she had raised her voice and lowered it.

"I was a coward too... But I don't want to be one anymore. If you don't mind, could you... perhaps tell me the names?"

Shin was surprised by her persistence and sighed again.

"If it's from today, Sakura, who perished, was named Kaie Tania."

"!"

Through the pararayd, there was jubilation, but then the curator, apparently realizing that this was the name of the just deceased girl, calmed down. Shin continued to name the names of his friends—against the background of excitement from the other side, his voice sounded particularly cold:

"Deputy Commander Shifter—Raiden Shuga. Smiling Fox—Seoto Rikka. Snow Witch—Anju Ema. Shooter—Krena Kukumira. Black Dog—Daia Iruma..."

He listed 20 names, after which the curator drew a line:

"I'm Vladilena Mirize. You can call me Lena."

"Yes, you already mentioned... And your rank?"

"Oh, right. Major. Just a novice, though..."

"Then I'll call you Major Mirize. If you don't mind."

"Well..."

Shin still only addressed her as a superior in rank, and Lena smiled sadly.

And then she suddenly asked:

"Today, apparently, there's no one... What are you doing?"

Shin hesitated.

"Name."

"Huh?"

"I'm preserving Kaie's name... Because we, '86,' aren't entitled to gravestones."

He took a small piece of metal and held it up to the light— the thin aluminum alloy allowed the blue lunar shimmer to pass through. On the rectangular surface, one could see Kaie's full name—Shin had carved it with tools—and the inscription in her native language, covered with a thin layer of red and black paint— "Kirschblüte*," under which a sakura blossom with five petals was drawn. It was a fragment of the cladding of her juggernaut.

"In my first squadron, we made a promise to each other. When someone died, we took a fragment of their juggernaut, carved their name on it, and carried it with us. That way, the last survivor could lead the others until their path came to an end."

In reality, finding even one fragment of a deceased juggernaut was often impossible. Then any pieces of metal or wood at hand were used. Names were scratched onto them with nails, and they became the only evidence of the existence of the deceased.

Everything changed only thanks to Faid—he remembered the details of the corps well and could find the necessary fragments. If possible, he tried to bring those fragments on which the call sign was drawn.

Shin kept all the collected fragments with names in the cabin of his juggernaut. Initially, it was comrades from his first squadron, and then from all the others. He kept the promise he made to them.

"I have always remained the last. So I am obligated to lead them. All who fought alongside me and perished will be with me until my journey ends."

The calmness in his voice struck Lena to her core.

She realized she was wrong, and he spoke like that not because he felt nothing.

A sudden wave of shame washed over her.

Death everywhere, numerous deaths—and he silently accepted them all. He carried them on his shoulders, showing no sorrow, as if it were meant to be.

Today, one person died during the day, and all she did was cry, refusing to face death. To all the others silently bearing the burden of their friends' deaths, it must have looked disgusting.

"And how many approximately are there now?"

"581. Including Kaie."

He replied quickly, without hesitation, and Lena bit her lip. How many people had died under her leadership over time? She couldn't say. Much fewer, but she didn't know the exact number.

"...So that's why they call you the Gravedigger, right?"

"That's one of the reasons."

He quietly buried his comrades by the hundreds. Instead of forbidden graves, there were small aluminum gravestones, preserving the memory of the deceased.

It's no wonder he's so beloved. He's kind, this young man named the Gravedigger.

Thinking about this, Lena widened her eyes.

"Gravedigger..."

In his obliviousness to how he was addressed lay Shin's essence—he was absolutely indifferent to everything, whether it was Lena or himself.

"I don't think I've heard your name yet..."

Shin blinked. The curator probably thought he didn't want to introduce himself, but that wasn't the case. He simply forgot.

"I apologize. Shin'ei Nōzen."

Shin didn't care how he was addressed. After all, whether it was a name or a call sign, it was just a set of symbols, differing only in usage. However, his short response elicited a strong reaction—Lena gasped and looked up.

"Nōzen?!.." she repeated, astonished.

Bam! Something seemed to fall on her side, like a chair or something similar. Apparently, she suddenly stood up.

"Perhaps you know someone named Shorei Nōzen?! Callsign Dullahan, with a headless rider-skeleton drawn on his juggernaut!"

Shin's eyes widened slightly.

†

"Let's fly to the front, Lena. Let's see everything that's happening there."

On that day, Colonel Václav Mirize of the regular republican army, along with his ten-year-old daughter, directed a reconnaissance plane towards the front.

"...Dad, haven't you already seen war?"

"Yes. And not only war but even more terrible things it brings."

Václav's service term was nearing its end, and while he fiercely fought alongside his soldiers defending his family and compatriots, the beloved homeland was devising disgraceful laws insulting the honor of soldiers.

Some of those they were supposed to protect stopped considering them human, expelled, imprisoned, and forced them to fight.

He still couldn't forget that incident in the small town.

The regular army was destroyed, hastily replaced by people who lost their previous jobs due to their own stupidity or cruelty. They lacked training, and their first duty was considered sending ordinary people to the front at gunpoint.

And with already low morale in the military ranks, desertion and violence began to flourish everywhere.

He remembered. He remembered how in front of two children, their parents were killed—under jokes and mockery.

These children will never forgive Albe and the Republic.

"...This must end. And as soon as possible..."

The plane leisurely flew on. Václav wanted to show his little daughter the world beyond the wall.

The residents of the first district almost never venture outside the wall. The plane crossed the most remote districts, with their factories on the hills and solar, geothermal, and wind power stations scattered across plains and forests, and Lena enthusiastically admired the majestic Grand Muur, resembling a mountain range. Soon, they flew over the plains bathed in the evening sun, and among them—a lifeless concentration camp, a pile of dilapidated barracks surrounded by barbed wire and a minefield. At the sight of it, Lena darkened and fell silent.

Looking at his daughter, mesmerized by the window view, Václav smiled. Clever child. She didn't need lengthy explanations—she learns by seeing with her own eyes.

Commandeering a military aircraft for personal use and transporting civilians on it was a clear violation of army rules, but Václav wasn't concerned. The modern republican army was entirely composed of incompetents who were happy to play gambling or computer games during work and in their free time were interested only in alcohol and women.

"Could we fly a bit beyond the frontline base and then turn around? I want to show the battlefield," Václav said to the pilot. The pilot, visibly pleased, nodded—usually, he never got to fly beyond the 85th district, but this time he got permission for a long flight.

"Affirmative, Colonel... But there's currently a ban on transport aircraft flying over the area."

"So what? We won't reach the combat zone, and considering the current speed, we'll only land late in the evening. The Legion is inactive at this time anyway."

The Legion's machines remained active only during the day—this was because they required electrical energy to move. Typically, they used energy packs produced at power plants deep behind the lines, but in such extraordinary circumstances as now, the packs quickly ran out, and each machine resorted to its own foldable solar panels. Since generating energy at night was impossible, the machines tried to avoid clashes in the evenings—being deprived of the ability to move made them easy prey.

Truth be told, he wanted to show Lena the battles and their brutality...

Václav watched his daughter's small back and smiled sadly, wondering if he was putting her life in danger.

But there was one thing Václav forgot.

Or perhaps he thought that only the "Eighty-Six" could perish on the battlefield?

He forgot about the reason why the surrounded Republic couldn't negotiate with other countries, just as it couldn't conduct air strikes.

Porcupines.

At the beginning of the war, they flooded all the Republic's districts and completely destroyed its aviation. They were zenith autonomous armed machines resembling a mountain of needles. They concealed their presence using jamming butterflies.

In the black night sky, dimly lit by the people living below, a crimson explosion bloomed with a deafening roar.

They hit the engine under the left wing. Smoke billowed from the plane, and it tilted and plunged toward the ground.

This was noticed by the commander of one of the squadrons on evening patrol.

"...Look, there's a reconnaissance plane just..."

"Huh? Ah, don't pay attention, Dullahan. Those dumb pigs probably flew out again to admire the sights. For us, the "Eighty-Six," the death of white pigs is like a holiday."

But the commander had already closed the cockpit and started the engine. Red, like blood, hair. Glasses and black eyes hiding behind them.

"Hey, Dullahan..."

"I'll go to help... And you keep patrolling."

She opened her eyes and saw a sea of fire.

Propping herself up with both hands, Lena raised herself, sat up, and looked around abstractedly.

Everything is burning. Dad too, burnt, lying motionless now. Nothing remained of him above the chest.

From somewhere came a loud scream, and it crawled out through the narrow passage in the fire.

A giant silver monster loomed over her like a mountain, and the dim reflection of the flames danced on its sides.

The crimson glass eye glinted menacingly. The universal machine gun mounted behind gleamed with a sinister dark gray color. The creature resembled some kind of insect, and its legs moved agilely beneath its completely immobile body—it seemed to glide across the ground, and it was terrifying.

On the monster's path appeared a pilot. He let out an unintelligible cry and began shooting haphazardly at it with a rifle, holding it at his hip. Most bullets missed, and the rare hits only sparked off the armor, which the Ant didn't even pay attention to. Calmly approaching, it made a light swipe with its front limb. The upper half of the pilot soared into the air—as if in some horrible comedy—while the lower half, spewing a spurt of blood, collapsed to the ground.

The Ant's optical sensors turned, and Lena saw her reflection in them.

At that moment, she was literally petrified with helplessness.

"If anyone survived, cover your ears and lie face down!" came a barely discernible voice from a broken speaker.

And then, from behind the dancing flames, a four-legged spider leaped out. The darkness of the night sky and the crimson fire merged behind it.

Its mark was forever imprinted in her memory—a headless skeletal rider.

It aimed two heavy machine guns at the Ant and opened fire. The roar of gunfire ruptured eardrums.

The machine gun rounds pounded into the Ant like a storm; compared to this weapon, capable of smashing concrete walls or armored tanks into splinters, the infantry automatic rifle seemed no more than a child's toy.

The weak armor of the Ant shattered into pieces, and eventually, it fell silent, turning into a pile of scrap metal.

Lena's head was throbbing from the gunfire, and she cautiously got up. The four-legged spider, clanking heavily with its limbs, approached her directly.

"Are you okay?"

Hearing a human voice, she was startled and, without saying anything, recoiled. The spider's body opened up like a mouth, and its front part tilted backward. A human figure rose from inside.

He had blood-red hair and wore glasses with a black frame. He was a young man of about twenty, slim and intelligent-looking.

The one who saved Lena, her "big brother," was called Shoréi Nóuzen.

They were standing at the entrance to a building where there were many mechanical spiders—her brother called this place the "base." Stars twinkled in the sky, and there were so many of them that they could illuminate the land below—you'd never see such a sight in the first district.

There were many other people at the "base," but her brother forbade her from going far, so she didn't approach them. She understood that she was being watched with suspicion from a distance, and it was a little scary.

Her brother told her his name, and Lena blinked in surprise. It seemed very strange and unfamiliar to her.

"...What a strange name."

"Yeah. It's an imperial surname, only my father's family bears it. And the name is rare too."

Smiling sadly, her brother shrugged.

"You can call me Ray, or else the full name is too hard to pronounce. It's quite common for our family, but the republicans aren't used to it."

"And are you not a republican?"

"My parents are from the empire, but my younger brother and I were born in the Republic... By the way, yes, I have a younger brother. About your age, I guess. He must have grown up by now..."

Ray smiled, but he seemed very sad. He looked into the distance, as if immersed in warm but bitter memories.

"Do you not see him?"

"...No. I can't go back yet."

At that time, Lena didn't yet know that during their entire service, the "Eighty-Six" were only entitled to one day off.

"Are you hungry?" her brother asked, but Lena didn't feel hungry, even though she hadn't had dinner. She shook her head, but Ray, frowning, offered her hot liquid chocolate, thinking that she wouldn't refuse something sweet.

For a place like this, it was unheard of hospitality, and even little Lena understood that.

"...Father..."

"Mm?"

"He said we did terrible things to the Colorata. Why did you defend me, aren't you one of them too?"

Such a direct and complex question made Ray furrow his brows. Adults always made that face when they wanted to tell her the truth.

"...They really mistreat us. Deprive us of freedom and insult our dignity. No one forgave that, and such things cannot be forgiven. They don't treat us as people or citizens, but as savages, stupid and cruel pigs."

For a moment, a cold rage flared up in his black eyes. He took a sip from his mug.

"And yet, we remain citizens of the Republic, born and raised here."

He spoke quietly but resolutely.

"Currently, we are not recognized, but it's just another reason to prove it. Defending one's country is a proud duty of a citizen. That's why we fight. We fight and defend. We prove it in action... Can we liken ourselves to those incompetents who only know how to talk?"

Lena blinked several times. To fight. To defend. To prove. But those monsters were so big...

"Aren't you scared?"

"I am scared. But if we don't fight, we won't survive."

Ray shrugged, smiled, and suddenly looked up at the stars.

The velvety black night sky was sprinkled with star dust. The stars twinkled and seemed to ring, but in reality, there was a terrifying silence around. The dark patches of sky seemed infinitely deep and dark.

The smile disappeared from his face, and words escaped his lips—sincere, like a prayer.

"I can't die. I have no right to. I must survive to return to my brother."

†

Lena turned 16, but she remembered those words and Ray's face as if it were yesterday.

That's why, upon hearing the same surname, she panicked so much that she jumped up. The chair fell over, the tea cup shattered, but she didn't even notice.

As Ray had said, his surname was so rare even in the Empire that Lena had never met anyone with it all this time. Nouzen. They were definitely relatives, and considering that Shin was about the same age as her, he could very well be...

Shin finally replied.

For the first time in all this time, his voice contained traces of shock just experienced.

"...My older brother."

"Your brother... I see..."

He wanted to see him, but couldn't. He prayed to return...

So that's what his younger brother was like.

"He told me he had to go home, that he wanted to meet you... How is he doing now?"

Warm memories and thoughts flooded Lena, but Shin answered her in his usual cold manner:

"He's dead. Five years ago, on the eastern front."

There it was.

"...I'm sorry."

"It's nothing," he replied shortly. As if he didn't care.

She remembered the expression on Ray's face when he talked about his brother, and conflicting emotions engulfed her. The gravedigger, of course, was accustomed to deaths, but there was clearly something else behind his indifferent silence.

She was about to reproach him for his coldness, but Shin quietly said:

"You asked earlier what I wanted to do after I leave the service."

"Hm?.. Ah, yes."

"Now I don't want anything, in or out of service. But there's something I must do... I'm looking for my older brother. All these five years."

Lena lowered her head. Strange, he said Ray was no longer alive.

"So... his remains?"

He smiled faintly.

Though it was more like a cold smirk.

Cruel, mesmerizingly sharp, and as dangerous as an ice sword. Insane.

"...No."

†

The next day came.

After consulting with Shin, the curator soon contacted all the processors, offered them her sincere apologies, and asked each of them for their name. Seo felt terribly awkward.

"...Shin. It was too much."

"You probably regret it yourself. Not what you said, but how you said it."

Seo pretended not to look at the others. They caught him, and it annoyed him a bit.

Daiya smiled, Anju, for some reason, looked at him softly and even patronizingly, while Krena demonstratively turned away, as if showing that she didn't care and had no relation to the topic under discussion. And this, even though she was just as angry as Seo at the time, and if he had stayed silent, she would have definitely spoken up instead.

"So, should I just address you as Major Mirize? Well, you already know our names from Shin..."

"Correct. But I haven't heard them from you."

So until she got permission from each of them, she wouldn't use their names, even if she knew them. Well, what a hassle.

Shin remained silent, Lena behaved like a child aware of her guilt, awaiting punishment, and Seo was beginning to get annoyed by it all. Whether he was angry or stubborn, he didn't care what others thought of him.

"In my first squadron, there was a commander..."

Lena was clearly taken aback by such a sudden change of topic, but Seo continued.

Through the para-raid came a short sigh.

It was Seo who heard his last words. They were retreating, leaving the commander ahead, and Seo was closer to him than anyone else. The commander decided to speak up on the radio for the last time - just in case, simply because it didn't matter anymore whether they would hear him.

"I knew you hated me. It's understandable, so I didn't say anything. It's normal. I didn't come here to help you or save you. I... I just couldn't forgive myself if you fought here alone. The thought of it scared me. I came to the front only for myself. So it's normal that you didn't forgive me. Don't forgive me."

After that, his words finally drowned in the noise of interference, and the connection was cut off. Seo realized that the commander had counted on it, so he didn't use the para-raid. He came here with a firm intention not to go back, he wanted to die in battle.

Seo regretted that he didn't get to know him better, and he regretted it to this day.

After expressing himself, he stretched. All his comrades already knew this story, and he had replayed it in his head hundreds of times. Now that so much time had passed, it couldn't touch him anymore.

They fought against that crappy world their compatriots had built.

Next was Raiden's turn.

His dark steel eyes narrowed coldly.

Lena, apparently, smiled.

Raiden smirked. A kind of friendliness reflected in his stern, animal-like facial features.

Lena openly laughed.

Shin absentmindedly listened to the conversation, then suddenly remembered his conversation with Lena yesterday.

Shorey Nousen.

He hadn't heard that name in a long time.

And he thought he would never hear it again. He even managed to forget that such a name once existed. Shin never called him by name, not until the very end.

His right hand automatically adjusted his scarf.

Older brother.

Chapter written by
NoveLight ™
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