"…Have you been well during this time?"

In the early dawn, shrouded in pitch darkness even the moon seemed to be swallowed whole.

Leaving Laurentina, who lay quietly asleep under the blankets, Eugene carefully stepped out onto the balcony to check her phone. Various graphs and text floated across the holographic screen. She was monitoring the real-time fluctuations of a metric she had never heard of before: reality density.

Making a phone call, waiting for a beep, and observing that it was connected—all these actions made her acutely aware of what she had endured.

Hoping that her words would flow through the phone without issue, she grasped onto the fading sense of reality.

After some time had passed,

"…Well, I’ve been doing well. Our daughter."

A voice flowed through the phone, one she hadn’t heard for several months.

For a brief moment, the displayed reality density shifted slightly but didn’t reach a danger level. This was true now and would be in the future, but no one knew that fact—or even if they did, they might still be trembling with anxiety.

However, such a situation didn’t last long. The words that had been suppressed for so long, burdened by their respective responsibilities and the surreal reasons that kept them apart, began to flood out like a broken dam.

Amid those revelations, Eugene learned something new. Her journey into another world wasn’t a solo endeavor; it was evident there had been interventions, at least to some extent, from her parents and the two unknown individuals—or possibly even more.

In other words,

"…So you’ve been watching over us this whole time?"

"How could I not?"

It was difficult even to look upon her child, but turning a blind eye was not an option.

Witnessing a child in a situation where a moment's carelessness could mean losing their life was excruciating, yet not looking at all would mean missing the opportunity to offer at least some minimal help at the right moment.

While it had been the minimum help in the world Eugene inhabited, in the world she had fallen into, it had been a product of desperate efforts. Adjusting the trajectory of a bullet or two was the best she could manage.

In other words, when the world lines had yet to synchronize, that was the extent of what she could accomplish.

"I wish I could have conveyed at least a few words, but if that wasn’t possible…."

Silence.

The conversation continued, uncomfortable as it was, but there was no other choice. The place she had been was a hell that manifested in a place where the summer saw the bodies of hundreds of thousands, if not millions, rotting and triggering chemical alarms in the city.

Even if she had returned, it would be the same. Even in conversations held at the conclusion of the second world line synchronization, fluctuations in reality density had been caused; it was clear what would have happened had they made contact right after returning.

But,

"…Still, from now on, there won’t be any more of that, right?"

As she said that, it seemed that everything was now firmly in the past. The experiences that had taken place were no longer occurring in real-time but had faded under the name of 'the past.' The fact that she could somehow speak of the events that had transpired was precisely due to that.

None of the matters entwined could not be tied up neatly. If that had not been the case, the current situation could not have arisen.

Yet, Eugene bore two honorary medals around her neck, and her parents had once again grasped an opportunity to reunite with their son—or daughter.

Separately from that, as expected, a mere phone call could not cover the entirety of their reunion.

And—

"…While I would love to see you right now, I suppose there are still things left to do, right?"

"What do you mean by things to do…?"

"America."

Ah.

A short voice escaped.

Eugene, who understood immediately what it meant, forced a smile to her lips as she added,

"…Yes. There are still things I need to finish."

"Good. I believe our daughter will handle it well."

And the following words.

"Once everything is finished, let’s go out for a meal."

"Yes."

"Always take care of your health. If you run low on pocket money, let me know… I’ll be back soon, so try not to eat too much of that unhealthy stuff. Got it?"

"Yes…."

"Okay. Our daughter. Always fight on."

After a few seconds, the hour-long phone call ended, and silence descended, mingling with the deep darkness and the cool morning breeze that greeted her in Seoul.

The moment Eugene turned at the subtle vibration underfoot, she saw a familiar face.

"…You’re still awake?"

"The night breeze is refreshing."

In Laurentina’s hand was a towel.

As she carefully wiped her tear-streaked face, she gently embraced Eugene and added,

"It’s raining quite a bit."

The night sky, which had hidden even the moonlight, had cleared, and only the sound of gentle sobbing continued.

The recapture of Seattle was not far off.

—Boom!

"When this war ends, we will usher in a nuclear-free era."

"Are you saying it will be because we’ve used them all?"

"Indeed."

The heavy shockwave that seemed to shake their very souls, and the flash of lightning streaking down from the sky.

A medium-range ballistic missile that had crossed from east to west of America struck Lantern Airport in Seattle, and a column of fire soared as if it would touch the heavens. While it might not hold significant strategic value, the demolition had begun in locations where the enemy forces were concentrated.

Under normal circumstances, the moment one country launched a nuclear missile, the allied forces would repeat the same process for mutual assured destruction, but this time was different. The radar, which could be said to be their eyes, had been destroyed, and the key powers, which could be considered their fingers and limbs, had been sabotaged.

In other words, this was not a straightforward exchange of nuclear punches at a 1:1 ratio, but rather one side swinging their fists with at least three times the power.

"HQ, this is Dagger. Confirmed missile impact at Lantern Airport. Estimated CEP is around 15 meters. Confirmed complete silence of over 95% of the targets. I will send damage reports and on-site footage."

"Copy that. Please report your current location as well."

"Currently observing the battlefield from a forest park approximately 14 km east of the front line."

A brief silence.

The sensitivity of the communication antennas remained good. Nearby, rustling sounds could be heard. Apart from the squad leader of Dagger Team, who was observing through a special telescope while sitting on a folding chair, the rest were constructing fortifications or resting in the vicinity.

The skills used for capturing people could easily be adapted for construction purposes, and those who had set up movement detection traps and radar nearby had long since been loosened. They began to put on their gear, which they hadn’t removed for over ten days.

—Snap!

"Removal of insects within a 50-meter radius is complete."

"There's a pretty good stream nearby; could you fetch some water?"

"Squad leader, switch to automated observation and come eat."

As he waved off their concern, the moment he turned his attention back to the comms, several pieces of data transmitted through the antennas were shared with all members of Dagger Team through their watches. It was a sort of map. However, Seattle was not visible on it.

The data pointed to a region further north.

"This shows the drop points for upcoming drones and the current status of the landing points held by HQ. Aricon and Violet are conducting operations near Vancouver, so I hope the nearest Dagger Team can check the nearby areas marked on the map."

"Understood. I guess it means we need to check the presence of surface-to-air missiles and their available statuses."

"Exactly. I’ll give you three weeks at most. We’ll drop a large number of stealth SUAVs as well. I’ll mark the routes for you, so check them later. The higher-ups say that if we achieve even half of the operational objectives, it will be considered a success."

"I’ll rest well and prepare to depart."

"May the gods be with you."

After finishing the communication, Owens was stared at by all the members of Dagger Team. This was only natural. They were all human, and it wasn’t pleasant to move to another location while they had just been enjoying their time.

As they were about to start putting their gear back on, he raised a hand to stop them and added,

"We leave in two days. It’s a reconnaissance and coordinate securing operation, so it’s not that serious."

"That’s good to hear. If we walk about 10 km a day, it should be easy."

"Wouldn’t it be better to finish quickly and return to the forward base?"

"I’ll consider that later."

—Rustle!

Meanwhile, an ominous noise echoed in their ears. The sound of crackling wood and the sizzling of food frying in a pan came through, followed by a portion of red meat dropping into the melted butter on a heated skillet.

And then came the sound of a dog.

"I'm hungry; is it okay if I take a bite early?"

"I know you guys can eat raw meat, but can you please hold off? I didn’t hide it for nothing until the end!"

"I didn’t say anything, why are you dragging me into this, Chester?"

Logan added in a disgruntled tone.

William Chester, a former chef. In other words, the head cook of Dagger Team. The meat he touched was sizzling to perfection.

Having fashioned skewers from nearby branches and disinfected their surfaces with pulses, the Dagger Team members eagerly grabbed pieces of the freshly grilled meat.

It was a scene that hardly matched a war, but there was a reason this was possible.

"When did you get this?"

"Three hours ago, it was sent by drone from the forward base. You wouldn’t know since it was before you all joined."

"What a delightful surprise."

And indeed, it was so.

Of course, this was undeniably a rare event. In the past, during Operation Chariot and similar endeavors, they had to carry massive amounts of combat rations—though not MREs, they used RCIR instead to ensure their health and taste.

Given that they were merely a few dozen kilometers from the forward base and that the enemy’s air defense had mostly been dismantled, this was feasible. And while it was natural, it was a more substantial motivator than merely restoring America to its previous state.

Moreover, they didn’t have to be constantly on guard. Their movement detection radar scattered within several hundred meters could automatically detect and deal with any approaching enemy forces.

So, they gathered around and began chatting.

"I think I heard the Canadian forces were moving southwest."

"Aricon and Violet are guiding them. I think fighting will start in that area in less than a week. I’ve heard that they secretly asked how to manifest 'Shadows' from over there."

"Haha, should we ask the kid again?"

"I’m not sure if that’s even possible, but who knows? We’ll have to ask directly…."

Unlike before, when they had been thrown into combat without a moment’s thought, they now had plenty of time to think. The war that had felt like it would never end was finally within reach.

So the conversation continued.

"There are talks that once the recapture of America is over, Dagger Team will be made chief instructors for SOF training."

"Hmm…."

"…Even if we might not agree to it, it’s quite plausible. The personnel who could attempt such a special mission have probably dwindled significantly, so they’ll need to replenish."

As he said, this was indeed true.

Furthermore, it was only natural that the higher-ups wouldn’t send Dagger Team back into the front lines once the recapture of America was complete.

Right now, they had been reluctantly sent to the battlefield due to the circumstances, taking on the dirty work, but their continued activity amid these situations proved they were indeed irreplaceable personnel.

And the members of Dagger Team wanted that as well.

"It’s about time we set our weapons down. Those addicted to combat would probably need to be shot at for twelve hours to come to their senses."

"Haha."

But.

As they continued to talk, an uninvited guest arrived.

—Rustle.

The radar beeped loudly, and a hologram appeared before all of them.

It showed not a person but… a gray bear ambling toward the area where Dagger Team was stationed.

Under normal circumstances, they would have immediately grabbed their weapons, but instead, they exchanged looks and broke into hearty laughter. Logan, who was still chewing, sighed and spoke.

"Well, just go check it out, right? Just go check it out."

"Ask if there’s a good salmon spot nearby."

"Salmon only comes upstream from September to November, you idiot…"

The gray bear, approaching with a rustle, and Logan, who was waving her hands in front of it.

Their gazes met. The bear opened and closed its mouth a few times before letting out a low growl, and Logan shook her head, waving her hand. Yet it didn’t leave, so she pulled a hammer from her multipurpose pouch, and only then did the gray bear seem satisfied, grabbing the treat she tossed before walking back the way it came.

The whole scene was being recorded.

"What did it say?"

"Well, it was just whining for food. It probably just woke up from hibernation and is hungry."

"Thanks to that, we don’t have to worry about bear hunting."

"It’s always appreciated."

That was the daily life of Dagger Team.

The gunfire in Seattle still hadn’t ceased.