Chapter 3: Grant Our Wishes, Hail Mary

Chapter 3: Grant Our Wishes, Hail Mary

CHAPTER 3

GRANT OUR WISHES, HAIL MARY

A dozen or so rivers once flowed south of the Roginia River and were eventually unified to form the new Tataswa floodway. Its width reached three hundred kilometers at its widest point, and vast volumes of water ran through it.

This made it sufficient, if a bit cramped, for that creature .

It crossed the waters—littered with fallen leaves from the trees on the western and eastern banks, which, along with their delicate ripples, formed a fair twill-brocade pattern along the surface—and raised its head.

It had a long neck and a triangular head akin to a dragon’s, a crown-like horn decorating its peak. The ruler of the northern seas—a leviathan.

It gazed about the shores of the lake, indifferent to the humans swarming there. It turned its dragon-like head, its three peacock-colored eyes casting about.

The armored company pursuing the Hail Mary Regiment took in this sovereign’s unexpected appearance with stunned eyes. It stood seventy meters tall, which was small for leviathans of its race. But compared with the tiny humans, it was a giant, its appearance striking terror and despair into the hearts of all who saw it.

The remnants of the Hail Mary Regiment, who had been backed into a corner, froze up as their despair won over their fear. Several members of the armored company, who’d repressed their righteous anger and bloodlust through their well-trained strength of will and were awaiting the order to fire, failed to hide their panic at the sight of this creature.

They each pulled the trigger, and the staccato of heavy-machine-gun fire filled the area. Bullets powerful enough to tear a human in half stabbed into the leviathan’s transparent scales, only to be effortlessly deflected by the armored scales beneath them. This sovereign of the seas was capable of fighting supercarriers and high-speed cruisers with their forty-cm depth charge cannons. Mere 12.7 mm rounds were effectively useless against it.

But this was enough to make the creature realize they meant it harm.

The leviathan turned its three eyes to the armored company and parted its gigantic mouth. The next moment, a beam of blue flame swept through and burned the Vánagandrs. The heat ray effortlessly penetrated their turrets and fuselage, their binding ceramic, and the heavy metal that formed their composite armor. It detonated the shells inside the turret, making each of the Vánagandrs burst into flame one by one.

A company of sixteen units, wiped out in one sweeping attack.

The leviathan looked down on the burning metallic vehicles emotionlessly for a moment. Once it saw no one else was moving, it sank back into the brocade-like waters of the new Tataswa floodway.

The only ones left behind were the petrified survivors of the Hail Mary Regiment. After a considerable pause, they finally let out their held breaths.

“It…saved us…?” Noele whispered to herself, dumbfounded.

Her subjects reacted to her words.

“It saved us…?”

“It protected us. That monster, it protected us!”

It was the only way they could interpret what had happened. That large, terrifying creature appeared just as they were cornered. And it saved them by punishing only the Federacy army soldiers who pursued them, like it had come to rescue them.

“It saved us. It did it because we’re not wrong, because we’re right—that’s why it protected us…!”

Mele watched the water the leviathan disappeared into, dumbstruck. The majesty of the dragon tyrant of the deep blue left a shocking impression on his heart that was akin to divine revelation. That terrifying, otherworldly, gigantic creature. That monster arrived…to save the princess.

In that case, the monster wasn’t simply there to protect them. That dragon was a sword, a weapon for the princess—it was divine will, divine might.

“—Based on the footage we have, the leviathan that appeared is a Fisara, a smaller breed of Musukura.”

As commander of the Open Sea clans, Ishmael was naturally called in to explain the situation. The officers stood in the large meeting room of the second northern front’s integrated headquarters, with Ishmael standing calmly before them. As the fleet commander’s “son,” he’d spent his whole life grappling with the raging seas and leviathans. To him, Imperial nobles weren’t daunting in the slightest.

“Every year, ice floes drift to the Fleet Countries’ shores from the northern sea. Once in a while, leviathan younglings—mostly of the smaller Monokera species or the medium-sized Leuca—wander onto the ice floes and drift with them. When that happens, fleets of leviathans that usually wouldn’t approach our waters swim over in search of their young. It probably appeared in the Federacy through the Zinori port and then swam up the Hiyano River.”

The Hiyano River flowed from west to east along the northern part of the Womisam basin, and then it meandered north and connected with the Empire’s only northern military seaport of Zinori. The port bordered the Fleet Countries’ territorial waters, so a leviathan entering Zinori and swimming upstream along the Hiyano River wasn’t impossible.

“But those things have a sense of territory, too, so they wouldn’t attack humans on their own turf unless provoked. It’ll return home once it finds its youngling, so we can probably just keep an eye on it from a distance until it does.”

“It’s looking for its young…” One field officer leaned forward. “Can’t we use that to our advantage? If we capture the youngling, we could have its parent attack the Legion. Or we could raise the youngling and train it to obey orders.”

Ishmael fell silent for a long moment.

“…Don’t you think we’d have done that by now if it was possible?”

In the eleven years of the Legion War, and even before that.

“If it was possible, we’d have used it against the Empire or the United Kingdom… We’ve tried, but it never worked. That’s why the Fleet Countries were vassals to the Empire and United Kingdom for centuries.”

“…True enough,” the staff officer said and went quiet.

“Right? Besides, even if it is a young one, it’s still a leviathan. Even the younglings of smaller breeds like the Monokera are much larger and stronger than humans. They have sawlike organs capable of cutting through metal plates. And a Musukura youngling would be way too much to handle. The moment anyone approached it, they’d be burnt to a crisp… And to begin with…”

Ishmael cracked a strained smile. The Open Sea clans failed to hunt down the leviathans, but the United Kingdom’s Dragon Fang Mountain and the Alliance’s holy Mount Wyrmnest did derive their name from another creature.

“…The earth wyrms of the land were driven to extinction, weren’t they? And just like we can’t use radars or fighter planes anymore, neither wyrms nor leviathans are as menacing when they’re outside their natural territory.”

In other words, they weren’t adapted to fighting the Legion, the true rulers of land warfare.

The same news reached the Strike Package, who were preparing for an advance operation near the new Tataswa floodway. During one of the scheduled meetings held between the commanders of the Federacy, Alliance, and United Kingdom to ensure there was no friction among the different countries’ soldiers, Vika’s representative, Zashya, said this:

“If that is the case, there might be no need to actively hunt it down, since the leviathan and Legion could end up attacking each other. The Legion don’t distinguish between people and animals, and if the Legion were to attack the Fisara, it would retaliate.”

Just like how the Fisara’s heat ray was able to melt the Vánagandrs, it could just as easily destroy Löwe. And on the other hand, even a leviathan’s thick armor scales couldn’t withstand a direct hit from tank shells capable of penetrating sixty-centimeter-thick iron plates.

“I’m not sure about that…,” Olivia said, frowning. “Would the Legion really recognize the Fisara as a threat? They do indiscriminately attack any warm-blooded creature that exceeds a certain size regardless of if they’re human or animal, but a leviathan is fifty meters tall. It might actually be too large.”

The Legion were made to be weapons for massacre. Their targets were typically enemy soldiers—in other words, humans. They shouldn’t feel driven to kill animals. Still, since they were inflexible machines, the accuracy of their distinction abilities was deliberately lowered so that whenever they were unsure if they were faced with a human or an animal, they would default to simply killing the target. That said, when faced with a clearly nonhuman animal, with a distinctly different heat signature and size, it would stand to reason they wouldn’t recognize it as a target.

“As far as I know, the Legion only kill wolves and wild goats. I’ve never heard of them killing cats or rabbits. So the opposite should probably be true, too. They wouldn’t attack an animal that’s too big to be human.”

Grethe asked them to wait and turned on her RAID Device. After a short exchange, she turned off the Resonance.

“…I asked Captain Nouzen and a few of the others, and they said that while they’ve seen the Legion kill wolves, sheep, and pigs, they did not appear to kill large animals like horses or cows.”

Much like supplies in cities, abandoned livestock remained around battlefields and were often seen near the Republic’s Eighty-Sixth Sector. So the Eighty-Six were familiar with how the Legion reacted to them.

“But…as a matter of fact, when we fought them in the Fleet Countries…,” Zashya started saying, but then she stopped herself. “No. It was the leviathan that initiated the attack in the Mirage Spire. And neither the Morpho nor the Noctiluca ever engaged it in combat. Which means…”

Grethe nodded. She had come to the same conclusion. Just as she’d expected, things weren’t going to be that easy.

“The leviathan only counterattacks when provoked on land, and the Legion don’t seem to attack large animals. We can’t expect them to fight each other and make the Strike Package’s battle any easier.”

After ordering the Ameise and Rabe to carefully investigate the situation in the northern front, the commander unit made its decision.

<<Firefly to all units. The use of the dirty bomb is deemed to be the action of a renegade enemy unit acting on its own.>>

This wasn’t some tactic of the northern front army, but an accident of sorts caused by deserting soldiers. And the nuclear fuel the renegade unit possessed could be utilized based on the commander unit’s knowledge from before it died . The commander unit considered taking it from them and putting it to use—but their protection prohibited them from both creating and employing nuclear weapons, which included dirty bombs.

That meant the renegade unit lost any potential value it might have had, and since the Legion were resistant to radiation, they became nothing but another target for elimination. However, for the northern front’s army, the renegade unit was a threat. Since the army was human and susceptible to the radiation, they had to go to the trouble of hunting them down, taking them into custody, and recovering the nuclear fuel.

This meant that the renegade unit effectively bought the Legion time to prepare.

<<Recommencing offensive operations. Apply pressure to the northern front, search for the unit possessing the dirty bomb, and interrupt any enemy reconnaissance operations into Legion territory. Warning: Strike Package presence in the second northern front has been confirmed.>>

That was the second boon the renegade unit granted the Legion. Their intelligence told them the Strike Package was poised to take part in an operation to seize a production plant in the western front, but the renegade unit had exposed their presence in the second northern front instead. They were to secretly take part in an advance operation here, but they’d been drawn out early, exposing the Federacy’s attempt at deception.

No Face’s unit had made preparations to intercept the Strike Package, but thankfully, the same was possible here in the second northern front, where they were able to force the Federacy into an advance operation and set a trap accordingly.

<<The unit under Grilse One’s command is to remain in shutdown mode. Attempt to capture the Strike Package and high-priority target Báleygr.>>

The Hail Mary Regiment may have destroyed the armored unit pursuing them, but they couldn’t go back to the warehouses they’d hid in previously, since their position had been exposed. And so the surviving members sneaked through the forest, avoiding search parties, and arrived at the ruins of a village that still had some intact stone buildings.

S NEENIKEIT —the name of the village was just barely visible on the faded signpost, the letters eroded from exposure to the elements.

When Noele and her unit members finally stopped to rest in the assembly hall, the sole structure with an intact roof, she was unable to contain her excitement. The only survivors were a single company made up of Noele’s subjects and Ninha’s subordinates, and the only nuclear weapon they had left was that held by the main force.

But the leviathan defeated their foes and saved them. It acknowledged their justice.

She wasn’t wrong. She still wasn’t. She didn’t have to give in to the terrifying thought that she’d made a mistake.

Mele returned after hiding the truck carrying the nuclear weapon in a warehouse at the edge of town. As he approached her, unable to contain his own excitement, Noele felt herself freeze up. They’d spent over a day fighting the Federacy’s pursuit, covered in mud and sweat, and she had no hot water to wash off with. She was now painfully conscious of this fact. But moreover, when she thought they were done for and Mele stepped up to protect her, she nearly blurted out her feelings for him. He didn’t realize, did he?

Noele was a noble’s daughter, and Mele was a serf. There was a class difference between them. So she resolved to never tell him, to forever keep the secret of her fleeting, sweet first love for him locked away in her heart.

“Mele, er…,” Noele stammered, her hands fidgeting.

“You’re amazing, Princess!” Mele said, grasping her palms, still ignorant of her feelings. “It saved us. God saved us, because you were right all along!”

His eyes were full of complete trust and genuine worship. Those blue eyes looked straight at her, from nearly point-blank range, with something akin to passion. Noele did everything she could to restrain her discomposure, feeling all the while like she was on cloud nine.

“—Yes!”

Mele acknowledges me. He believes in me! I’m so happy, so happy, so happy…!

And she wanted to answer his trust.

“We’ll continue the operation,” she said excitedly. “We’ll take the nuclear weapon, too. Next time, it’ll work—”

“Right, the leviathan is on our side!” Kiahi cut in. “We can have it help us kill the Legion, too!”

“Huh?” Noele was dumbstruck by his unexpected words.

I want to use the nuclear weapon… The flame of our hometown that made me and everyone else I love happy… The leviathan proved I was right, so the nuclear weapon should work, too…!

But Mele nodded firmly in agreement.

“You’re right. God chose the Princess. We can have the leviathan beat the Legion for us!”

“This dragon god is more suitable than a stupid bucket.” Rilé nodded a few times in agreement. “It’d be easier to let it fight our battles for us.”

“And when I get near that nuclear stuff, I get the taste of metal in my mouth,” Milha said, grimacing. “And it’s not like I licked anything… It’s creepy.”

“What?! That’s scary!” Yono cowered like always.

“Don’t worry, the leviathan won’t make you feel like that. Right, Princess?!” Otto laughed it off in his usual carefree manner.

They all directed smiles as bright and frank as a clear summer sky at Noele, who began by silently watching the others, then gradually started to feel that maybe they were right.

Yes, perhaps it really was for the best. The leviathan was like some kind of God that had swooped in to save them, so maybe relying on it would be a good idea.

Mele repeated it feverishly, with that same look of trust and worship.

“That’s right, the princess was chosen by God! That leviathan is the princess’s sword!”

I was chosen. Yes, I—I was right the whole time. So I have to be confident. I shouldn’t doubt or worry or think too hard about anything.

Noele tried to tell herself that, but she couldn’t shake off her anxiety. She felt like she should choose the nuclear weapons in the end, because she was more familiar with them. Or rather…she didn’t know anything about the leviathan, except that it saved them.

Could they really rely on something they didn’t understand?

Everything—the stupid renegades getting their mission postponed, seeing the Federacy’s predicament, losing part of the operation area because of the dirty bomb’s radiation, the appearance of a leviathan, and the Hail Mary Regiment getting away.

It had all finally gotten to Shin. He was at his limit.

He sat in the shared office they’d sectioned off in the barracks, leaning his back against a sofa tiredly. Seeing Shin look up at the ceiling, completely still, Raiden told him:

“Well, you know, you tried your hardest.”

“…I can’t take this anymore,” Shin grumbled like a child.

“You want some coffee? I can go brew a fresh pot,” Raiden said, a sardonic smile on his lips.

“I wanna see Lena…” Shin kept going, his voice listless.

“Whoa…”

Shin was so dispirited, he was actually voicing his wants in front of other people. He really had it bad.

“You’re suffering from severe Lena deficiency, aren’t you, Shin?” Anju asked with a strained smile.

“On top of Lena not being here, it’s one idiotic development after another. I can see how you’d run out of batteries… Can’t blame ya. You’re allowed to be down for the count today.”

Shin tried to keep up appearances, be it maintaining the unit’s morale, preventing Lena from worrying, or simply not damaging her good name. But with things this absurd, he could only keep his cool for so long. Raiden was fed up with the situation, too.

But then Kurena asked with a curious tilt of her head:

“Why not use the Para-RAID to Resonate with Lena, then? Maybe talking to her a little will cheer you up.”

“Hey, Kurena, cut that out,” Raiden scolded her.

“Is this your idea of payback, Kurena?” Anju asked.

“Huh?”

“He doesn’t want Lena to see him when he’s at his lowest.” Raiden glared at her. “He’s been staying cool around her until now. Keep his masculine dignity in mind, would ya?”

“…If you care so much about my pride, could you at least not talk about it right in front of me?” Shin said grumpily.

“Shin, that’s on you for sulking in the common room,” Anju noted.

“I see, I see.” Kurena nodded a few times in understanding. “I’ll Resonate with her, then!”

“Huh?” Shin jumped off the sofa in surprise.

“Kurena, what?!” Anju stared at her in shock.

But Kurena ignored them and turned on the RAID Device. Honestly, what she was doing wasn’t allowed, and for all they knew, Lena didn’t have her RAID Device on to begin with.

“—Ah, Lena.”

But as it turned out, Lena did have it on, because the Resonance connected. Lena replied, her surprised voice like a silver bell. Behind her, Kurena could hear TP, whom Lena had taken along to the medical facility.

“Kurena? Is something the matter?”

“Yeah, actually, Shin is suffering from severe Lena deficiency right now.”

“Eh?”

“Hey, Kurena!” Raiden called out.

But Kurena ignored him and tossed the RAID Device over to Shin with an unconcerned expression. Despite having frozen up in surprise, Shin somehow caught the silver ring.

“…You’ll regret this, Kurena,” he said grimly.

“Not my problem. This is just payback.”

Yes, payback. She was allowed a little payback. The guy who turned her down was moping around and thinking about another girl right in front of her. So she was allowed a little bit of payback against her bully of a big brother.

There was no helping the fact that the Para-RAID was connected or that Kurena had spilled the beans to Lena, so Shin put on the RAID Device as he left the office and walked to the adjacent room. Watching him leave, Kurena proudly puffed up her conspicuous chest.

“I wish he’d pay more attention to me, you know.”

She may have decided to drop out of the running, but she still liked him.

“You’ve gotten strong, Kurena,” Raiden said, looking terrified.

“I can’t stay his baby sister forever, you know!”

“Big Brother looked a bit pitiful back there, so having you act stronger balances things out,” Anju said.

“Right?! He’s pitiful!”

She spoke loudly, despite knowing that the wall they’d used to section the living room off from the office was thin and that Shin could probably hear her. In fact, Raiden suspected she was saying it with that in mind. He couldn’t help but sympathize with Shin. He wished Theo would come back already, because he had a feeling the girls were getting out of hand.

Anju and Kurena’s chuckling filled the room like the chiming of bells.

“Actually, this brings back memories of the Eighty-Sixth Sector.”

“Yes, Lena was far away, and we only heard her voice while we were relaxing, just like that.”

But then Anju’s sky-blue eyes wavered in sweet, pained reminiscence. The fate they’d accepted and even, on some level, wished for, was now far away. The comrades they’d fought with for so long, the people who were always by their side, were now gone.

“We’ve changed a lot since then… I never would have imagined Shin would feel comfortable acting depressed in front of us. And you too, Kurena. Back then, I never would have imagined you’d Resonate with Lena.”

Kurena blinked a few times. “You’re right, come to think of it.”

She chuckled. She felt a wave of nostalgia, mixed with a hint of regret and sadness, but also pride.

“Yeah. I can’t stay a baby sister forever, either.”

She couldn’t let the scars of her childhood haunt her forever. She couldn’t keep being afraid to walk forward toward an unknowable future.

They then heard the doorknob click. They turned around, expecting to find Shin, but it was Frederica.

“I could hear you from outside. Did something happen?”

It wasn’t that Anju didn’t want to tell her, but she felt it was inappropriate to explain to Frederica memories that she didn’t share with them.

“Yes, well, let’s just say Kurena’s maturing,” she replied with a chuckle.

“Yeah, that. And Shin being worn out for once.”

Raiden expected Frederica to complain about their answers, but instead…

“…So Shinei, too, is weary,” she whispered with a heavy expression.

Raiden took a deep breath and asked her a question. His smile waned as he looked straight into the small girl’s eyes.

“What about you? Is anything wrong? You look like something’s been on your mind since the last operation… What happened?”

Frederica trembled. She tried to restrain her surging emotions, but she couldn’t hold them back, and large tears began running down her smooth cheeks. The walls were thin…so she couldn’t quite say the words she wanted, for fear of others hearing her.

“Forgive me. For being unable to join you on your last operation. Unable to fight alongside you.”

She’d forced all the sacrifices onto Raiden and the others—and that one-eyed general. And in the meantime, she’d simply sat back, safe and sound.

Raiden cracked a bitter smile. “…That’s what you’re beating yourself up over?”

“No, it is not. I am a Mascot, and yet—”

The empress of this country, and yet—

“I must remain on the defensive. I can do nothing. I’ve done nothing.”

“…I see.”

Raiden didn’t deny it or say she was wrong. Neither did Kurena or Anju, who listened to her in silence. They could tell she was hurting, because being powerless hurt.

“You know you don’t have to be impatient, but you can’t help feeling it anyway, right?” Anju asked.

“…Aye.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should push yourself,” Kurena said.

“Ugh…”

“Stop trying to carry so many burdens all the time. You’re already a Mascot.”

Already an empress.

“If you tried to carry any more weight, we’d lose our place, you know?”

“…Are you…” Frederica hiccuped in between her tears. “Are you telling me to forsake you…?”

Raiden frowned, and Frederica continued, sobbing.

“Viktor told me something. He said that if I lack the power to protect you, I’d be better off forsaking you than trying to protect you for naught.”

“That idiot…”

“Am I not allowed to wish to help you if I’m powerless to do so…?”

Raiden scratched his head, his expression sour. Did that stupid prince have to be so harsh to a kid?

If she was pretending to be a saint and reaching out to save people, even though she lacked the power and resolve to help them, and if she was going to play the victim after failing to become a savior and abandoning the ones she wished to help, she would indeed have been better off never trying at all, but…

“Wanting to save someone isn’t a bad thing. He just meant you shouldn’t try to do things you’re not capable of or take responsibility for things you don’t need to shoulder. That idiot, Vika, he…”

In all likelihood, he didn’t mean anything that admirable, but. “I mean, he’s a prince. He has to save everyone and take responsibility for all those he fails to save. That’s a weight he can carry because he’s a prince and he’s prepared, but it’s not easy. I think he was just trying to tell you to not try to carry it, too.”

“…”

“I know that admitting you’re powerless is hard and painful in its own way, but…don’t force yourself to do things you can’t.”

Otherwise, her attempt to escape her own powerlessness would just lead her to take up responsibilities too heavy for her to bear.

Frederica finally nodded.

“…Yes.”

“And if he said it the way you described it, he went too far, so don’t be afraid to talk back to him. Want me to speak to him for you?”

“N-no, no need for that! I am no child!” Frederica shook her small head.

She then thought over Raiden’s words and nodded again.

“He did speak out of turn, but I will answer him with my own words. I’ve no need of your meddling overprotectiveness, Big Brother.”

“Oh-ho.” Raiden hummed, impressed and amused.

“However, hmm.” Her upturned crimson eyes glanced toward him.

It was the unconscious, natural gesture of a younger sister fawning on her older brother.

“I would be allowed to get back at him by putting a caterpillar plush in his boot, yes?”

“…”

Raiden wasn’t sure if it was her conscience that led her to suggest a plush rather than a real caterpillar, because the bugs were out of season, or simply because she was too afraid to touch one.

“…So long as you won’t cry when he dissects the plush, go ahead.”

Due to the thin partitions in the barracks module, Shin could hear Frederica’s conversation with Raiden and the others from the adjacent room.

Spare her some attention.

Apparently, there was no need for that anymore. As he listened to Lena share all sorts of interesting things that happened to her in the medical facility, Shin took a deep breath of relief.

“…That girl.”

The suburban medical center Yuuto was in was used by civilians as well, meaning the entrance wasn’t as restricted as a military hospital’s. As they gazed down through the large window in the lounge overlooking the front yard, which civilians living nearby used in place of a park, Amari muttered something, her dark-brown eyes narrowing grimly.

“That’s the girl who took away the kid who came to visit us.”

Yuuto walked over and glanced in the same direction. The front yard was surrounded by well-groomed trees, and standing under their leafless branches was a girl with long, flowing beige-colored hair, appearing lost in thought.

“The kid said she was an Eighty-Six, too. She was adopted into the same house and was his big sister now, so she came to pick him up.”

“…What is she doing here?”

Eighty-Six who hadn’t enlisted were rounded up and reexamined by the military. A few of them had supposedly run off and were currently missing, so that girl was likely one of them… But if so, why come to this medical center, where the army might catch her? Needless to say, neither Yuuto nor Amari knew her.

“Say, Yuuto…,” Amari whispered suddenly. “Do you think the Federacy military really just wants to take them under protection?”

“…Yeah.”

Honestly, Yuuto didn’t think the military was all that trustworthy. He might have believed them before the large-scale offensive, but not with the way they were conducting themselves now. To begin with, the Strike Package always had a propaganda aspect to it, established to buy sympathy from civilians and foreign countries. Many in the military saw the Eighty-Six only as very skilled hunting dogs. But now they weren’t even trying to hide it anymore—just like that military police officer.

Soon, the Federacy military would no longer bother hiding its blemishes. It would be in no state to maintain even a facade of composure or humanitarianism.

“I’ll go ask her what she wants…,” said Yuuto. “We can call the military police later, right?”

“Want me to go?”

“No.”

Amari had only recently healed. Besides, Yuuto was a battalion commander, and she was his subordinate. And more than anything, she was a younger girl. Amari would likely get mad if he told her that to her face, but the fact still remained. He didn’t want her to have to brave any dangers if he could avoid it.

“I’ll go.”

When Theo went to the PX to get lunch, he found Annette sunken into one of the cheap-looking table sets. One corner of the PX was a food court with several Federacy fast-food chains. He spotted her lying face down on a table absent of any food, and having seen her, he couldn’t leave her alone.

“What is it, Annette? Too hungry to move?” Theo asked jokingly, but Annette ignored him.

She simply kept her face buried in the table and grumbled:

“You can just call me a traitor and be done with it.”

“Huh? Why?” Theo asked, honestly baffled.

Annette rested a cheek against the table and answered, despite her posture making it hard to talk.

“The Republic betrayed you again, and I’m one of those Republic traitors.”

“We never believed in the Republic, so it can’t betray us, and even if what it did was betrayal, that doesn’t make you a traitor. You just did— What do you call it? Exposure? Indictment? Yeah, indictment.”

Either way, it was a legitimate thing to do. He didn’t know the rules of the Republic military, which Annette was a part of, but she did the right, ethical thing.

“…It’s too late for an indictment.”

For the children who had been turned into wiretaps, this came ten years too late.

“I should have realized it sooner, much sooner… Research into the Para-RAID had only just begun when I joined the army, but there must have been some army documents, something involving the Para-RAID, some old records. If I’d looked at that, I’d have figured it out…!”

Maybe she could have saved them before things got to this point.

“…I see.”

She might have been able to do it, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. And since she couldn’t…

“So…won’t you? Won’t you call me a traitor?”

In place of those young children who weren’t allowed to blame anyone.

Theo grimaced.

“Like hell I will. I mean, I know I say some awful things in the heat of the moment, but I do regret them and learn from my mistakes, you know.”

From the strength of his tone, Annette could tell there must have been some history she wasn’t aware of, but she didn’t think asking about it would do either of them any good.

“Right… Sorry.”

“But I do get it. Sometimes, being the one getting blamed feels easier.”

He wasn’t going to fault anyone here, he didn’t want to say these kinds of things, and to begin with, they weren’t close enough for her to ask something like this of him. But then again, he didn’t feel comfortable just pushing her away altogether. Theo paused for thought, and after failing to come up with the right response, he said this instead:

“Remember that fried-bread stand you told me about back in the hospital? I tried it, and it really was good. The minced meat, the onions and the pepper, that fragrance they put on it, and those weird spices… It all seriously came together.”

“…Right.”

“And you know, the café chain over there, they have a delicious nuts-and-chocolate tart.”

With her face still pressed against the table, she raised one eye to wordlessly glance at him through her bangs. A bit daunted by this, Theo carried on.

“Wanna have some? For now, just dedicate today to eating something tasty.”

“…”

“You can have some of their coffee with it, too. The kind with lots of cream and caramel sauce. They can draw something on the paper cup too, like a dog or a cat.”

Annette finally smiled.

“You’re on.”

The girl introduced herself to Yuuto as Citri Oki.

“—On paper, I’m called Citri Myora now. But my stepfather says I don’t have to force myself to use it and that I can call myself by my old name if I want.”

She was originally from the United Kingdom, a Taaffe from their territories. She had long, flax-colored hair and faint-purple eyes. Her face was pretty, like a doll’s, and the classy, long one-piece dress she wore suited her. Her hair was fixed with a light-purple ribbon that matched her eyes.

And that just made the hard, filthy boots she was wearing stand out.

The look wasn’t too unnatural, given the low temperatures of late autumn, and after living on the battlefield for so long, it didn’t much bother Yuuto. Nor would he notice the sweet scent of solidified oil unique to a girl who hadn’t groomed herself in days.

Citri did seem to mind, though, because she sat on the other side of the bench from him. Or maybe she felt awkward next to Yuuto, a fellow Eighty-Six like her, who—unlike her—had fought on the battlefield.

“I didn’t enlist, and you all are recovering in the hospital so I thought my visiting you might just be a bother, but…there’s something I had to ask.”

“The Republic officers who had you gather intelligence on the Federacy army are already in custody. You don’t need to get information out of us anymore.”

Citri tightly gripped her hands, which rested on her lap. Her hands were different from those of any girl in the Strike Package. They were the frail, dainty hands of a girl who never had to grip a gun or a control stick, who never had to fight. For Eighty-Six around Yuuto’s age, that was almost unimaginable.