Volume 4. Chapter 1: Duty Calls
86 – Eighty-Six
The stench of death lingered over the joint headquarters of the Federacy’s Western Front. The last operation had cost the Federacy hundreds of thousands of lives—four corps and over sixty percent of their total forces. Even transport vehicles couldn’t keep up with the removal of the deceased, temporarily turning the base into a morgue.
“The Eighty-Six strike force.”
Though spring had arrived, the air felt unnaturally cold as Major General Richard Altner, commander of the 177th Armored Division and the Republic of San Magnolia’s Expeditionary Unit, spoke the name of the unit.
“An autonomous mobile strike force piloting Reginleifs to suppress key Legion positions. Essentially, a foreign unit composed of the Eighty-Six... So, will they finally get to greet their queen?”
He surveyed the soon-to-be office of this “queen,” the foreign officer from the former Republic of San Magnolia, before turning his gaze to the person across from him. The aroma of substitute coffee wafted between them.
“What do you think? Will they manage?”
“I have no doubts about their combat potential.”
A cold smile appeared on the composed face of Commodore Willem Ehrenfried, the Western Front Army Chief of Staff, whose pale complexion was characteristic of noble birth.
“Most of the Eighty-Six we’ve taken under our protection are what they call callsign bearers . Veterans who’ve spent years fighting in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, despite a survival rate of less than one in ten. They’re far superior even to our soldiers who’ve undergone standard combat training. From a tactical standpoint, it would be unthinkable not to use them.”
Even though it was just substitute coffee, it was brewed properly and elegantly served in porcelain cups. Enjoying the floral aroma of the hot drink, Willem continued:
“And we now have a good grasp of the Reginleifs’ practical application. Their mobility allows them to match even Legion Wolves at full speed. Thanks to the Eighty-Six, the Legion won’t be getting their hands on our precious operators anymore.”
“Willem, I was asking whether the Eighty-Six can manage psychologically,” Major General Altner interjected.
He placed his coffee cup back on its saucer with a soft clink of porcelain.
“They know no peace, have no homeland, and nothing to defend on this battlefield... Do you really believe they can become the Federacy’s sword, despite the constant friction with our own troops whenever they’re stationed together?”
The first group of Eighty-Six accidentally rescued by the Federacy was a prime example. Though they were shown peaceful lives, they couldn’t—or perhaps wouldn’t—accept them. Their reckless determination to plunge into battles with near-zero survival odds struck fear into the Federacy soldiers. Despite their numerous accomplishments, which far exceeded those of the Federacy army, they were scornfully referred to as “monsters raised by the Republic.”
One thing Willem knew for sure: dragging those who had grown up on the battlefield into a peaceful life would only confuse them, make them doubt, and eventually suffocate them.
“Good hunting dogs need a fierce temperament. A good master, Richard, knows how to aim that temperament at their enemies.”
His aristocratic phrasing, which seemed to deny the humanity of others, drew a sharp glance from Major General Altner. In response, the Chief of Staff shrugged gracefully.
“Of course, if they fail to adjust to peaceful life, we’ll all face trouble after the war... as will they. No one wants ex-soldiers turning to crime when there are no battles left to fight, do they?”
Major General Altner raised an eyebrow.
“Surprising, Willem. I thought you’d say something like, ‘The solution is to give each of them a bullet.’”
“Well, you’d have to account for the cost of fuel to burn the bodies, the psychological toll on the executioners, not to mention the paperwork to cover up the disappearances, and the bribes for everyone involved. And even with those expenses, it would eventually come to light… just like the Republic.”
After the operation to destroy Morpho , the survival of not only the United Kingdom, the Alliance, and the Republic but also other nations had been confirmed. Soon, everyone would learn of the atrocities committed by the Republic, where the Eighty-Six—known there as the Colorata —had been an oppressed minority.
The Republic’s treatment of the Eighty-Six would go down as one of the most heinous acts in recorded history. Its stained reputation would endure for decades… assuming humanity survived that long.
“Compared to all that trouble, helping them adjust to civilian life and enrolling them in a special officer academy is a far more efficient solution. We’d gain squads of young men and women with brilliant futures ahead of them... Besides...”
Willem’s smile vanished as he locked eyes with the Major General.
“After defeating Morpho and liberating the Republic, people may be celebrating, but the reality is that the war situation continues to deteriorate. The heavy losses have severely reduced the Western Front’s military capability, meaning taxes will have to rise. We need to make use of our war dogs now, while their spears are pointed at the Legion... Otherwise, the Eighty-Six might distance themselves entirely.”
†
She had seen this nightmare countless times.
On the edge of a nameless wasteland, beyond scorched and barren battlefields, a handful of skeletons, bleached by the sun, fought against a tide of metal monsters. Without supplies or support, the skeletons, worn down by the overwhelming enemy numbers, fell one by one.
The last one, a melee specialist, was surrounded by Dinosauria and torn apart. His broken high-frequency blade stabbed into the ground like a gravestone. The tragedy didn’t end there—when the Legion tore off the cockpit lantern, it revealed the blood-soaked interior. The mangled body of the Processor inside hung limp, like a rag doll. The dead were given no honor. Their bodies were ripped apart, and their heads taken.
Lena didn’t know his face. The figure in the desert camouflage uniform being pulled from the cockpit had no face.
From beginning to end, all she could do was watch. Her voice would never reach them. She couldn’t fire a single shot to support them. She could only bear witness to their horrific fate.
How many times had she woken in the middle of the night screaming his name? How many times had she activated the Para-RAID, desperately trying to connect, only to have her heart shattered again?
She had never seen the end, so she couldn’t know for sure, but this was reality. His fate must have been far worse than she could imagine. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.
But now, she would never see that dream again.
Federacy of Giad’s Western Front Joint Headquarters.
This was where Lena woke up that morning. She adjusted her uniform with care, buttoning up her crisp blouse, donning a black jacket, and affixing her insignia and holster. She even adjusted her cap and tucked aside her single red strand of hair. Her every move was filled with the resolve of a knight preparing for battle.
She stared into her reflection, her silver eyes matching the color of her hair. Her black uniform expressed mourning for her fallen subordinates, while the red strand symbolized the blood they had shed. Staring back at her was the fierce face of the Bloody Queen , stained with those very colors.
A knock on the door broke the morning silence just as she tightened her tie.
“Colonel?”
Lena smiled. She hadn’t seen his face… not until yesterday. But she would never forget his voice. Over the past two years, it had been a gentle support for her. His calm, steady tone and clear diction had comforted her. Now that voice was right beside her, and she would never have to see that nightmare again.
“I’m awake. Please, come in.”
There was a brief, almost hesitant pause. Then the door softly opened, and Shin stepped inside.
His black Onyx hair and crimson Pyrope eyes stood out. She had learned only yesterday that his older brother, Rei, had the opposite coloring. The steel-blue Federacy uniform seemed to suit him naturally. His slender frame and pale face matched the mental image she had formed of him from his voice, but his hardened physique was proof of years spent on the battlefield.
“Colonel, the transport will arrive at the base at 8:25. Please be ready by then.”
“Understood,” Lena replied shortly. She turned, glanced back into his crimson eyes that reflected her dark silhouette, and nodded. “I’m ready… Let’s go.”
Recently constructed, the Rustkammer Base—“Armory”—stood in Wolf’s Land, an uninhabited region bordering the former Empire and manufacturing territories. For the Eighty-Six strike force, now new to Lena, this was their main base of operations.
It was a vast installation surrounded by forests stretching westward from a nearby highland. A river separated the base from a nearby town nestled in the shadow of old fortress ruins, just a short walk away.
The barracks housed approximately ten thousand Processors and a support staff large enough for an entire battalion, along with nearly a thousand other personnel and multiple hangars for Reginleifs. There was also a runway for transport planes and a training ground spanning several sections of the base.
The base had been deliberately placed near the town not only for logistical convenience but also to help reintegrate the Eighty-Six into society. Having spent their childhoods on the battlefield, they needed a chance to acclimate to peaceful environments. The Eighty-Six who had been sheltered six months earlier were still attending a special officer academy, while the senior four—Raiden, Theo, Anju, and Kurena—had returned to the barracks under the guise of handling paperwork. This left Shin as Lena’s sole escort.
As the sun beat down mercilessly on the airfield, Shin offered to carry her luggage and the cat carrier.
“Let me take those.”
“Oh, it’s fine. They’re not heavy.”
Shin ignored her protests, took her belongings without a word, and began walking ahead. Considering it would be rude to wrest them back after his insistence, Lena reluctantly allowed it this time.
“Thank you very much.”
“It’s nothing.”
That curt tone could have widened the distance between him and anyone else, but… for Lena, it felt nostalgic. She glanced at the young man beside her, whose head stood a bit higher than her own, and couldn’t help but smile. Her eyes caught on a red scar faintly visible beneath his collar—a ghastly mark running across his neck, reminiscent of an execution wound, as if his head had been severed and hastily reattached. A battle injury, perhaps? It looked old.
After their brief meeting yesterday at the memorial with the four broken Juggernauts and five hundred seventy-six fallen Processors, she had hardly had the chance to talk to Shin and the others. Her formal reception at the Federacy’s Western Front Joint Headquarters had occupied most of her time. As a representative of the Republic, she had also been obliged to attend several social meetings. She hadn’t had a moment to rekindle old friendships.
She had spoken to Shin only briefly during the car ride to the base, learning just enough about their two-year reconnaissance mission and their eventual arrival in the Federacy. She hadn’t had the opportunity to ask about the scar… but perhaps it was better to wait until he brought it up himself. Whatever had left such a horrifying mark on his body must have left an equally deep wound on his heart. For her to broach the topic carelessly would have been unkind.
Sensing her gaze, Shin turned to her.
“Something wrong?”
“N-no, it’s nothing.”
It made her happy just to look at him… but that was too embarrassing to admit. Lena turned her flushed face away, and Shin shot her a suspicious glance.
“By the way, I noticed you were promoted. Congratulations.”
“Oh, yes… thank you,” Lena replied shyly, unconsciously touching the insignia on her collar.
Attaining a senior officer rank was already difficult, and a commander’s rank—like colonel—even more so. Of course, wartime promotions could sometimes be absurdly swift, but for a soldier still in her teens to achieve the rank of colonel was unheard of.
“It’s mostly for appearances, honestly. Traveling to another country with a lower rank wouldn’t have looked good.”
On the other hand, the Federacy’s representative to the Republic’s relief operations had only volunteered as a junior officer. Half a year after the fall of the Grand Mur, many Republic citizens still awaited rescue, hoping others would fight in their stead or refusing to fight for themselves at all.
The plan was for the Federacy’s rescue forces to withdraw after reclaiming the Republic’s northern administrative sectors, leaving their defense to the Republic’s military. But Lena had little hope for such an outcome, considering the state of things.
“That’s true for you as well, Captain Nouzen. You’ve been in the Federacy’s military for only two years, yet your rapid promotion to captain must speak volumes about your achievements.”
“All the ranks above mine are vacant, which shows how chaotic the country’s situation is...” He shrugged, offering a faint smile.
Lena stared at him in surprise. Until today, she hadn’t known what Shin looked like, yet it felt as though his expression had softened. The cold tone of this Eighty-Six boy always seemed to… hold something back. He suppressed it with such ferocity that it seemed as if he might break at any moment.
The timer ticking away the moments until his death had guided him for years. His goal had been to free his brother’s soul from its mechanical prison. And he had achieved it. For now, at least, he had completed his mission. Perhaps he could finally find peace—perhaps he could finally remember his brother with a bittersweet fondness, despite having been forced to kill him.
“As a tactical commander, I expected you to have aides or subordinate officers. But you’re alone.”
“No one volunteered. I do have scheduled meetings with some Processor candidates and… a technical officer. Major Henrietta Penrose.”
Lena paused slightly before finishing the name.
“...Oh, the Para-RAID consultant,” Shin said with a faint, puzzled nod, seemingly unaware of why Lena had hesitated before saying Annette’s name.
She glanced at him. Henrietta wasn’t typically shortened to Annette, which was why she had given both the first and last name without abbreviations. Perhaps Annette had introduced herself that way to Lena because she didn’t want to be reminded of the boy who used to call her by that nickname—a childhood friend she had hurt, abandoned, and hadn’t seen since.
“You really don’t remember…?”
“Remember what?”
“Never mind,” Lena said, shaking her head to avoid the question.
After all, this wasn’t her place. If Annette wanted to talk to him about it, she would.
The brief silence between them was interrupted by a “meow” from the cat carrier in Lena’s hand.
Shin glanced down and blinked in surprise.
“You brought a cat?”
“It’s the one from the Spearhead Squadron’s barracks who used to stay near you.”
“I see…”
His expression didn’t change, but that was just the kind of person he was. The cat, on the other hand, seemed to recognize his voice, meowing excitedly in response.
“What did you name him?”
“Thermopylae.”
“Thermy” for short. Shin went quiet for a moment. Thermopylae was the name of a battlefield where a small army had faced an overwhelming enemy force and lost.
“Not Leonidas?”
“No.”
“Your naming sense is terrible.”
“Says you, Captain. This little one stayed with you, so he couldn’t be Leonidas. And he didn’t meet a noble end in battle.”
“Maybe, but Thermopylae feels…”
“Then what did you call him before the special reconnaissance mission?”
The Processors of the Spearhead Squadron hadn’t given the cat a name, as he wasn’t a comrade in arms. Shin had referred to him using the name of an author from a book he’d been reading.
“I think… Ogai?”
“Don’t tell me you were reading The Boat on the River Takase back then?! That’s even worse!” Lena groaned in frustration.
“The essence of the story is different,” Lena continued her rant, her voice tinged with frustration. “But to summarize, it’s about a young man who killed his younger brother. And you were on your reconnaissance mission to fight your own brother—who had become a Shepherd—with the full knowledge that one of you might have to kill the other. Reading that book in such a situation isn’t just bad taste—it’s outright masochistic!”
“It just caught my eye. There wasn’t much thought behind it…” Shin trailed off, his tone unperturbed. Then, as if recalling something, he added, “Oh, by the way...”
They had arrived at the largest hangar on the base, connected to the first barracks, where Lena’s office would be located. The massive doors were open, the space inside currently empty as the Feldress were still in transit. The hangar had high ceilings, several overhead cranes, and walkways crisscrossing the second level.
“Colonel…”
“...Yes?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to be very angry about this, but please direct all your anger at me.”
“Excuse me?”
Suddenly, a gruff voice barked from above:
“Ready—!”
Startled, Lena turned toward the sound, her instincts alerting her to some form of danger.
“Fire!”
Before she could fully process what was happening, a deluge of water poured down on her.
“Kyaaaaa!”
With a loud splash, Lena was soaked to the bone. She instinctively flinched, looking around in shock as water dripped from her hair and uniform. A group of young men and women, wearing either military uniforms or work attire, stood on the upper walkways holding empty buckets. It was clear they were responsible for the impromptu drenching.
As Lena stood there, too stunned to speak, Shin reappeared, having prudently stepped away just as the command to “ready” had been given. He approached her now, his expression a mix of mild guilt and awkwardness.
“It’s just water, so don’t worry… Right, Staff Sergeant Bernoldt?”
“Yes, sir!” barked a stout, middle-aged soldier standing proudly on the walkway. “We pulled it straight from the nearest water supply! Two idiots tried to bring buckets of paint, but I made them dump it on themselves as punishment!”
“Oh…”
That explained the two soldiers in the corner, one covered in red and the other in white paint. Casting them a quick glance, Shin addressed Bernoldt in his usual calm tone, though it carried an authoritative undertone.
“Before you go to the showers, wash off at the water station so you don’t clog the drains. And clean up the mess here afterward.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Understood, sir!”
Their responses, loud and desperate, were met with a dispassionate nod from Shin. Meanwhile, Lena remained frozen, processing what had just happened.
“Is this… some sort of tradition for welcoming new officers in the Federacy?”
“No,” Shin replied, shaking his head. “The Federacy hasn’t existed long enough to have such traditions…”
“Captain Nouzen, stop making excuses and explain yourself,” interrupted a new voice, cutting through the air like a whip.
Lena turned to see a young woman approaching, her stride confident and commanding. She carried a few towels in her hands. Lena’s eyes widened in recognition—it was Colonel Greta Wenzel, the commanding officer of the Eighty-Six strike force and, technically, Lena’s superior.
“C-Colonel Wenzel?! My apologies—”
“Oh, cut the formalities, dear,” Greta said with a wry smile, tossing a towel over Lena’s head and beginning to wipe down her soaked uniform with another. The towels were warm, their scent suggesting they had recently been dried in the sun.
“You’ll find spare clothes in your quarters, and the bath is already prepared. At least Captain Nouzen had the decency to order the towels in advance.”
“My apologies…” Shin muttered, his expression a mix of regret and resignation.
“But your lack of foresight just proves you’re still a boy, Captain. It’s endearing in its way, but if you don’t shape up as an escort, she might start to dislike you.”
“Colonel...” Shin’s tone was weary, as though used to her teasing.
“Oh, am I talking too much? Blame yourself for letting your Feldress record such juicy conversations in its operation logs,” Greta quipped, laughing as she handed off the towels and walked away.
The staff sergeant, who had descended from the walkway, saluted briskly.
“We’ll take care of the cleanup from here, Colonel.”
“Staff Sergeant Bernoldt,” Greta called back sharply, “what exactly do you plan to do with the towels that a young lady used?”
“Please don’t joke like that! Especially in front of the captain! Damn it, she’s probably the same age as my kids! She doesn’t even—”
“Doesn’t even what?”
“Ahhhhhhhh! Forget it! Just forget I said anything!”
The animated exchange, hard to imagine between a senior officer and a subordinate noncommissioned officer, faded into the distance as Greta left. Shin, sighing in exasperation, turned back to Lena.
“You should change quickly. I’ll escort you to your quarters.”
Lena’s personal quarters were located on the upper floor of the first barracks. The space was divided into two rooms: a reception office at the entrance and a private bedroom in the back. Despite being on a military base, the rooms prioritized comfort over the spartan practicality typical of commanding officers’ accommodations. The decor was in a soft pearl shade, perhaps chosen with the young lady’s tastes in mind.
Shin set her luggage and the cat carrier down on the floor before stepping out. The black cat cautiously emerged from the carrier, sniffing the unfamiliar surroundings. The large windows in the office offered an unobstructed view of the town across the river, its silhouette framed by the ruins of an old fortress.
In one corner of the town, a newly built school served the Eighty-Six who had been removed from internment camps and were finally receiving basic education. While a single psychological support team was typically assigned to a division-sized unit, two teams had been allocated specifically for the Eighty-Six. It should have been the Republic’s responsibility to provide such care...
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Lena headed into the bathroom attached to her bedroom. The room was tiled with vibrant ceramic, and the faint floral scent in the air suggested essence had been added to the bathwater. She removed her light makeup, turned on the luxurious faucet, and let the hot water run over her.
After a moment’s thought, she realized she still hadn’t received a proper explanation for what had just happened. Opening the door slightly, she picked up her Para-RAID device, which lay on a towel nearby, and activated it.
“Um, Captain…”
The connection abruptly cut off. After a moment, the synchronization reestablished itself.
“Why did you disconnect?” she asked, her tone mildly accusatory.
An embarrassed response came through the link.
“Why are you using the Para-RAID right now?”
“We didn’t finish our conversation earlier.”
“We can finish later… at least after you’re done with your bath, please.”
Lena frowned.
“Why can’t we talk while I’m in the bath?”
“Why?” Shin echoed, sounding baffled.
Tense silence followed before Lena broke it with firm insistence.
“Two years ago, in the Spearhead Squadron barracks, you used the Para-RAID to explain the Black Sheep and Shepherds… while I was in the bath.”
“Yes, but… you didn’t seem comfortable with it, so there’s no need to force yourself.”
“Well…”
She had been uncomfortable.
The Para-RAID transmitted only auditory sensations, but the synchronization made it feel as though they were speaking face-to-face. Lena realized her embarrassment was likely palpable to Shin, and it only made his hesitation more pronounced.
Adding to the awkwardness was the background noise of running water, her steady breathing, and the sound of droplets sliding down her hair.
“But now isn’t…”
The connection abruptly cut off again. This time, it seemed Shin had deliberately removed his Para-RAID device.
Raiden climbed to the upper floor to deliver documents to Greta’s office. He paused in the corridor when he saw Shin sitting languidly on the blue carpet adorned with white flowers. Shin was near the office of their Tactical Commander—Lena—likely waiting for her to finish changing after the little “welcome” she had received. For some reason, Shin was kneeling.
“What are you doing…?” Raiden asked.
“Nothing…” Shin sighed, though his response didn’t match the tone.
Shin only replied after Lena exited the bathroom, dressed in a blouse and skirt, entered her office, and knocked on the door to call him in.
“I’m sure I know the answer, but I still have to ask: you’re dressed, right?”
“O-of course!”
“If that’s the case…”
His voice was hard to discern through the thick oak door, designed specifically to prevent eavesdropping. Lena still needed to dry her hair and apply makeup, so she returned to the bathroom, continuing their conversation via Para-RAID.
“About what happened earlier…”
It was still awkward for both of them, making normal conversation difficult. Setting aside the hairdryer and picking up a comb, Lena listened to him.
“The combat personnel in the Strike Force are mostly composed of Eighty-Six volunteers, but the key word here is ‘mostly.’ The unit also includes Federacy soldiers, who are obligated to follow orders… and among them are those who had acquaintances in the Republic.”
Lena’s breath caught at the explanation. The Federacy had accepted about ten thousand Eighty-Six—enough for a large squadron. Yet, it was a paltry number compared to the millions of Colorata who once lived in the Republic. Ten thousand survivors were all that remained after the country’s atrocities. The rest had perished, whether in internment camps, during the construction of the Gran Mur, or on the battlefield in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. The Republic had reduced them to livestock in human form, sending them to their deaths without proper burials.
The Republic’s population before the Legion War had included people from neighboring nations. Naturally, some of them had family and friends abroad. And those who learned about how their loved ones were exterminated…
“Orders are absolute for soldiers, but that doesn’t mean they won’t doubt a senior officer from the Republic. When you were appointed, Sergeant Major Bernolt, Colonel Wenzel, and I received complaints and objections.”
She recalled the Federacy soldiers of various ages and races standing on the bridge. Each had uniquely colored eyes, yet they all gazed at her with the same coldness.
“Such dissent cannot be suppressed with mere strictness. Moreover, trying to quash dissatisfaction would lead to even worse consequences. That’s why I allowed them to enact ‘retribution’ upon your arrival just once. I was the one who explained the details, discussed it with Colonel Wenzel, and gained her approval. As I said before, if you’re angry, direct it at me.”
Lena shook her head. The “retribution” had only been buckets of water. Most likely, there had been more elaborate ideas that Shin had undoubtedly rejected outright. He must have relied on his deputies to ensure that Lena was spared harsher vengeance, even though he himself was one of the Eighty-Six and had every right to seek retribution against the Republic’s citizens.
“This is a well-deserved punishment for me. I can’t be angry at—”
“No, that’s not true.”
Shin interrupted Lena’s self-deprecation with a tone that carried irritation, bordering on anger.
“We, the Eighty-Six, are the only ones entitled to demand anything from the Republic. Federacy citizens, even if they’re relatives, are not part of this story—they have no right to exact vengeance… They can think whatever they want, but their actions are an absurdity cloaked in the guise of justice.”
“Captain…”
“The Federacy is just a country of people. They tie justice to their national politics, but… that doesn’t make them more righteous or ideal.”
His dry, detached voice was full of… indignation or sorrow… or perhaps a resignation that transcended both emotions.
“And one more thing… I’ve said this before, but you are not responsible for what happened in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, and there was nothing you could have done to change the situation. This is not your burden to bear, Colonel, and you shouldn’t let yourself be the sole person they take it out on.”
“And that’s why…” Shin continued as Lena remained silent.
“That retribution was unjust toward you. Such treatment is undeserved, and yet you accepted it. Don’t belittle yourself. If someone disrespects you, discipline them according to the Federacy’s military code. You have both the authority and the duty to do so.”
Duties. The word choice was so characteristic of Shin. Had he only said “authority,” Lena might have hesitated to act even after his explanation. But as it was her duty, she had to. Shin wasn’t trying to change her mindset; he wanted to shield her from mindless vengeance while also keeping her from falling into the trap of self-blame.
He might have had the face of a cold-hearted God of Death and spoken in an indifferent tone… but Shin was astonishingly kind. So much so that it hurt her.
“Thank you…”
The new uniform on her bed was a deep blue, similar to the Republic’s. Naturally, they couldn’t provide black right away. After changing into the uniform adorned with a colonel’s insignia and even donning an armband, Lena spun before the full-length mirror for a final check before heading out into the corridor.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Captain.”
Apparently, he hadn’t been idle during that time. He closed the electronic document he was reading on a device before turning and blinking in surprise, his eyes lingering on her new outfit. Come to think of it, this was the first time Shin had seen Lena in this uniform. During their reunion yesterday and earlier today, she had been wearing her black one.
And now she understood the reason behind her anxiety about her appearance. She wanted to make sure that every detail was perfect… like a girl preparing for her first date. Under Shin’s curious, attentive gaze, Lena’s cheeks flushed pink.
“Colonel, is something wrong…?”
“N-no, nothing,” she practically squeaked in a high-pitched voice, which, of course, only made it more obvious.
Now she began to focus excessively on small details she hadn’t considered before—or perhaps had subconsciously tried to ignore. Their sudden reunion had deeply unsettled her, especially since they had only communicated through Para-RAID, separated by hundreds of kilometers. His voice now felt so close, and with their height difference, Shin’s mouth was at the level of her ears.
She couldn’t help but notice how much taller he was than her. His body radiated warmth, and she didn’t need to look back to know he was near. She hadn’t realized a man could feel so warm, and for some reason, it made her head spin. Placing her hands on her chest to calm herself, she took a deep breath and managed to suppress the blush on her cheeks before speaking as if nothing had happened:
“You were going to show me around the base, right? Let’s go.”
Her voice, however, remained slightly higher than usual…
Lena averted her gaze from the smile Shin couldn’t suppress and walked ahead, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. She could sense his quiet presence behind her, about half a step away. Shin’s habit of moving silently somehow unsettled her in a strange, thrilling way.
“What are they up to now…?”
The junior officers lived in shared quarters, each room equipped with two beds, desks, wardrobes, and a shared bathroom. Frederica sat puffed up on a bed, swinging her legs and staring ahead with her crimson-red eyes.
“Fine, they had meetings with Greta and the command staff, but now they’re just wandering through briefing and conference rooms. It’s like I’m watching newlyweds! How dare they misuse their positions for—”
“Uh, Frederica…” Theo muttered dejectedly, leaning against the half-open door. “What exactly are you doing? Spying again?”
Her red eyes immediately snapped to him. Theo noted with fatigue that every time she peeked into someone’s past or present with her ability, her crimson eyes began to glow.
“I’m not spying, you dolt! This is merely a precaution in case that woman tries something suspicious while stringing him along.”
“Calm down… He’s just showing her around the base. The colonel only arrived today, and Shin is her direct subordinate. There’s nothing improper about it.”
“Maybe so, but…”
“Besides, you were there when Shin stuck his neck out for her, so you should understand.”
The Federacy’s Feldresses were equipped with operation logs that recorded sensor data, footage from gun cameras, weapon readings, and pilot communications. Naturally, the log captured the conversation between Shin and Lena—though neither knew who the other was—after the destruction of the Morpho. That recording, the first information about the Republic in ten years, also served as the first contact with a Republic survivor and was replayed for the Western Front Army commanders… much to Shin’s dismay.
“Exactly! When it’s shoved in your face like that, it’s even harder to accept! Haven’t we spent more time on his si— Ahh?!”
Frederica suddenly lifted her head, startled by something only she could see. A wicked grin spread across her face.
“Theo, I’m feeling hungry…”
Theo smiled broadly.
“Oh, really? The weather’s nice today. Let’s head to the commissary and grab some food. Maybe take a walk.”
The commissary was a store on the base. Frederica panicked.
“N-no, that’s not what I meant, I, uh…”
“Let me guess: Shin and the colonel went to the cafeteria, and you want to interrupt them. Too obvious.”
At that moment, they heard Kurena’s loud, drawn-out “Aaaaaah!” Before anyone could react, she took off like a dog spotting its owner. A window in the corridor overlooked the cafeteria, and she must have seen the pair there.
“Hold it!”
Before Kurena could gain momentum, Anju intercepted her and tackled her to the ground.
“Ouch! Anju, what are you doing?! Let me go!”
“Sweetie, this is as far as you go. It’s rude to interfere, you know.”
“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow, my arms! You’re definitely going to break something, Anju! Ow-ow-ow-ow-aaaaaahhh!”
Witnessing this heartwarming scene, Theo turned back to the room. His smile remained, but his expression made his intentions clear, causing Frederica to step back in fear.
“We. Are eating. Outside. With Kurena, Anju, and Raiden.”
“…Got it.”
In the Federacy base cafeteria, everyone received the same meals regardless of rank, but the buffet allowed people to choose their portion sizes. Clumsily filling her tray—with Shin and the staff eagerly helping her—Lena carried it to an empty table.
This base was primarily home to processors undergoing officer training, and Lena was in the junior officers’ cafeteria, the largest one. Cooks, staff, and soldiers worked around a massive boiling pot so large Lena thought she could comfortably sit inside it.
The culinary cultures of the Federacy and Republic were different, so Lena’s tray was filled with an intriguing variety of dishes: the Federacy’s unique thick black bread, a creamy mushroom soup with an enticing aroma, a boiled vegetable salad, red pepper stew typical of the Federacy’s southern regions, coffee, and apple pie. At the center of her tray was a fragrant steak topped with gooseberry sauce.
Excitedly cutting a piece of the steak, she placed it in her mouth, her silver eyes widening in amazement.
“It’s delicious!”
Shin smiled warmly in response to Lena’s adorable reaction.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve had real meat… Is this venison?”
Abandoning any pretense of feminine manners, Lena began to eat heartily.
“Yes… Raiden mentioned that all food in the Republic was synthetic, so I thought you might want to try something different. It was worth gathering everyone to go hunting in the forest.”
“All this… just for me?”
“No, everyone just happened to be free that day.”
As they spoke, Shin devoured his food with alarming speed, shoveling it into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days. For someone his age, his appetite was as robust as his health. Lena found it oddly comforting to watch him rapidly clear a tray twice the size of hers. What a boy he is at heart, Lena thought with a faint, mental smile.
“Soldiers need something to occupy themselves when there are no battles. Back in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, we used to go hunting and fishing on safe days.”
“…”
It sounded cheerful, but Lena felt like she’d been doused with cold water. Shin noticed her inner turmoil and offered a bitter smile.
“Don’t look like that. Even in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, we had our own ways to find entertainment.”
The Legion loomed ahead, and the Republic had cut off their retreat. They knew that after five years of oppression and forced conscription, death awaited them. The battlefield was steeped in despair, but even so…
“We didn’t plan to end our lives miserably just because our deaths were inevitable, and we certainly weren’t going to sit idly by, counting down the days. If we were destined to die, we wanted to spend each day without regret… smiling in the face of death. That was our one and only form of protest.”
“…”
He was likely telling the truth. Two years ago, Lena had synchronized with the Spearhead Squadron every evening, and every evening they seemed to be having fun. There was something endearing about their distant conversations, teasing, and loud arguments over trivial matters. They eagerly sought out those precious moments between battles, despite knowing that no one would praise them and they had nothing to protect. They lived fully, even though all that awaited them was a meaningless death.
“I’d like to try fishing someday…”
Shin’s expression shifted, now carrying a hint of mischief.
“Then you’ll need to start by collecting worms.”
“W-worms…”
Like many girls her age, Lena despised worms—especially the wriggling, squirming kind.
“Digging them up will be…”
“It’s not hard. Just lift any rock by the river, and you’ll find plenty.”
“I’ll… do my best…”
Lena’s tragic, suffering expression was too much for Shin to handle. For the first time she could remember, he burst into loud laughter. Lena scowled as she realized she was being teased.
“You’re much more of a troublemaker than I thought, Captain.”
“Sorry, but your face turned so stiff I couldn’t help it,” Shin replied, still chuckling. “If worms are too much for you, maybe hunting would be better. We can skip the butchering part, but I’m sure you’d handle a rifle just fine.”
“Ah, a rifle…”
Lena suddenly remembered something that made her set down her utensils.
“When we reclaimed the First Sector, the military police responsible for shelters went hunting to provide Republic citizens with fresh meat. They thought synthetic food might have gotten dull…”
The military police, besides fulfilling their duties within the army, were responsible for establishing and managing shelters for refugees and prisoners of war. But since the war was against the Legion, there were neither, and they seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the rare assignment.
“The elderly were happy—at least some of them—but the children threw the meat away without even tasting it. They said it smelled like blood.”
“…”
The war with the Legion had started eleven years ago, and the Republic had been sheltering within the Eighty-Five Sectors all that time. Children born during this period had never eaten natural food, including meat.
A person’s sense of taste develops at a young age, largely influenced by the food they grow up eating. It was possible those children would never fully appreciate food made outside of factories. They might never enjoy the cuisines of other countries beyond the Gran Mur.
Sensing Lena’s unease, Shin spoke.
“They’ve never seen other races either—only Albas. So they might not recognize someone as human if they’re not Alba…”
Lena nodded.
“Our first operation will be reclaiming the Republic’s northern sectors. Honestly… I’m a little worried about sending you to fight there under those circumstances.”
Ostracism or hostility from the Republic’s citizens—whether expressed through words or other actions—would likely be all too apparent for the Eighty-Six.
“It’s not much different from when we fought in the Eighty-Sixth Sector… But was there really nothing but synthetic food in the Republic? Keeping livestock constantly might be tough, but surely there were still rabbits or pigeons.”
“We didn’t know how to catch animals, and I doubt anyone understood how to butcher them properly… I don’t think it ever occurred to anyone that they could be hunted and eaten.”
Compared to the bland, tasteless synthetic rations given to the Eighty-Six, the Republic still had food worthy of being called such. The desire to try something better didn’t often arise.
“Not that I’m one to talk… I have no idea how to cook either.”
The Milizé family had once been considered noble, after all, and Lena was their sole heiress. She wasn’t supposed to soil her hands, which meant no cooking or housework—ever. Shin calmly sipped from his cup of coffee substitute.
“I’m not much of a cook either.”
“Ah?”
Lena stared at him. Shin seemed like someone capable of practically everything, and she couldn’t imagine there was anything he wasn’t good at.
“That’s… surprising.”
“Well, I can manage a bit, but Raiden says my sense of taste is a little…”
Setting his cup down, Shin placed a finger on his lips.
“…dulled.”
His uncertain tone suggested he didn’t fully grasp how bad it was. Which made sense—unlike sight or hearing, taste wasn’t something easily measured. Raiden had likely been as diplomatic as possible with his critique.
“I don’t know much about spices, I won’t deny it, but even I notice when someone leaves eggshells behind. Although, to me, it’s still edible with them.”
“…”
That clumsy mindset made it abundantly clear just how inexperienced he was. Even Lena, who knew nothing about cooking, could tell. Still…
“Eggs, hmm… How do you even crack them?”
She had heard their shells were quite hard. Maybe a hammer was needed?
“…”
This time, Shin paused for several seconds.
“You know, there’s a beginner’s cooking club on base…”
“There is?”
“They teach you the basics, like how to hold a kitchen knife properly. So far, Frederica—the squad mascot—is the only one who’s joined. Maybe you should sign up too, Colonel.”
“Only if you join with me.”
“I’m fine as I am.”
“What? Why?”
The intelligence officers seated nearby struggled to contain their laughter as they listened to the barrage of absurd questions.
Their argument continued even after they finished eating, with Shin pouring himself a second cup of coffee substitute. He stubbornly refused to yield, which only strengthened Lena's resolve to improve her cooking skills just to prove him wrong. With an unusual enthusiasm, she headed toward the hangar, while Shin, a suspicious look on his face, followed close behind.
The hangar, empty just a few hours ago, was now filled with newly arrived Feldresses. Two soldiers, previously covered in red and white from the earlier commotion, had cleaned up and finished their tasks. The hangar housed the Reginleifs, the new high-mobility weapons piloted by Shin and his comrades. The machines now rested in the spring sunlight, their long legs folded beneath them.
At the sight of the Feldresses—superior to the Juggernauts in every way—Lena’s heart fluttered. White as polished bone, they radiated a cold and fierce beauty. At the same time, they gave off a sinister impression, like skeletal remains wandering the battlefield in search of their lost heads.
Lena recalled a memory. From the interception gun station on the Gran Mur, she had witnessed a white flash slicing through the pre-dawn blue darkness, confronting the dragon-like Morpho. She remembered hearing that the Reginleifs were designed based on the Juggernauts recovered after Shin and his group were rescued by the Federacy.
Her guess about their similarity to the Juggernauts had been spot-on. In that sense, Shin and his comrades had saved her life back then. Of course, the greatest contribution came from the processor piloting that Reginleif, but without its mobility, it wouldn’t have been possible to defeat the Morpho. This reminded her that she needed to find that officer and thank them.
She scanned the row of five Reginleifs, each equipped with its unique weapons. Then her gaze fell on one that stood out the most—Shin’s unit, Undertaker . Its standard armament included four KOPRAs, a pair of anchors, and an 88mm smoothbore cannon. However, Shin’s preference for a high-frequency blade set it apart. Lena turned to Shin, the pilot of this formidable machine.
“May I… touch it?”
“Hmm? Yes,” Shin replied, nodding with mild confusion.
He didn’t quite understand the question’s intent, but Undertaker was a partner he trusted with his life. Such a treasured machine wasn’t to be touched without permission. Lena ran her hand over the cold metal surface, scarred with countless marks. Shin had only served in the Federacy army for two years, yet the number of battle scars spoke to the intensity of the fights he had endured.
“Thank you for protecting Shin. For keeping him safe on the battlefield.”
The Reginleif bore the name Undertaker , just like Shin’s Republic Juggernaut. If machines could have souls, this one had surely inherited the spirit of that Juggernaut. Lena’s fingers traced the emblem beneath the cockpit’s light. Her eyes lingered on the personal insignia—a headless skeleton with a shovel slung over its shoulder. Shin smirked faintly.
“You read up on the Juggernauts before coming here, didn’t you? The equipment is standardized; I doubt you’ll find anything surprising.”
“Maybe, but… well, the first model came to the Republic’s aid, so…”
For some reason, Lena didn’t want to share the full story of how another processor had saved her, so she fell silent without elaborating. Then she suddenly remembered something, excused herself, and walked over to the brigade’s maintenance commander. After a brief conversation, she returned with an item in hand.
“What’s that?” Shin asked.
“Well… I’m not entirely sure myself.”
The plastic case hadn’t been opened since it left the armory. Opening it now, she revealed its contents.
“I believe this is yours, Captain.”
Inside was a 9mm automatic pistol with a double-stack magazine, once used by the Republic’s ground forces. After they disappeared from the battlefield, the Eighty-Six processors often carried such weapons. Shin’s eyes fixated on the item in the case, and then he froze.
“Captain?”
“Colonel, where… did you get this?”
“Outside the Gran Mur, when the Federacy came to rescue us.”
“…”
Shin fell silent, his expression pale. Though his face was typically unreadable, Lena thought she could detect a flicker of unease, though it was hard to be certain.
The pistol had been found by Shiden—the Queen’s Knights’ captain—amid a field of lycoris flowers after the destruction of the Morpho and during the Federacy’s rescue operations. Yesterday, during Lena’s reunion with Shiden, the latter had handed her the pistol with a mischievous smile, instructing her to give it to the Strike Force’s captain—Shin. According to Shiden, he had dropped it.
The pistol hadn’t been lying there long, leading Lena to conclude it belonged to the processor of the Reginleif, who was, as it turned out, Shin. But that couldn’t be true. There had only been one Reginleif. She knew this from their earlier encounter.
Lena recalled the rough, youthful voice distorted by interference over the speakers. The pilot hadn’t introduced themselves, but she remembered the insignia of a headless skeleton with a shovel on the worn armor. The same emblem she had just seen moments ago on Undertaker .
The headless skeleton didn’t look back at her—because it had no head—but it was unmistakably the same. The reaper burying the dead. The reaper— the god of death.
It couldn’t be…
She stared at Shin—the processor, the pilot of that Reginleif. He averted his gaze, refusing to meet her eyes. And now Lena was certain.
“So it was you?!”
His eyes darted as if searching for an escape, but then his shoulders sagged in resignation.
“Yes, I…”
In stark contrast to Lena’s fiery gaze, Shin looked down awkwardly.
“I’m sorry… about back then.”
“Eh?”
“I mean… I didn’t know it was you, but I was very rude…”
“Um…”
Forgive him? Forgive? Then what had I said to him? I… don’t remember at all!
“N-no need to apologize. I was in despair myself… I don’t remember much about what happened, but it’s possible I was rude too. I was exhausted at the time, and I probably said something in the heat of the moment,” Lena stammered, flustered as she tried to apologize.
Saying she didn’t remember was likely even worse, but Lena only realized that after the words had left her mouth, which made her even more flustered.
Shin, however, exhaled in relief.
“No, back then… you saved me.”
She remembered. That Federacy processor—Shin—had looked like a lost, defeated child, unsure of where to go next. She didn’t know what battles he had faced in the two years since the special reconnaissance mission and his arrival in the Federacy, but she knew he had launched a suicidal assault through Legion territory to confront the Morpho. The situation must have been utterly dire for the Federacy to order him to do that. If she had managed to help, even a little…
“Thank goodness. If that’s the case, then… I’m glad.”
She turned her attention back to the pistol case, and this time, Shin accepted it.
Shin couldn’t take possession of a weapon without checking it first, so he headed to his quarters to leave the case there.
“By the way, how did you know this pistol was mine? Did someone hand it over?”
“Yes. Yesterday at the joint headquarters, I ran into Cyclops… Captain Iida. That’s when they gave it to me.”
“Cyclops?”
“The captain of the unit I was assigned to after your withdrawal for the special reconnaissance mission.”
“…”
The brief conversation darkened Shin’s mood, if only slightly. Though, as usual, his expression barely changed, making it hard to tell. He roughly placed the case on the table, and Lena, standing at the doorway, peered inside, unsure if she was allowed to. Compared to her own room—lavish quarters befitting a high-ranking officer—Shin’s room was the modest living space of a processor.
Two years ago, she had pegged him as a bookworm—or rather, someone who wasn’t selective about what he read. That impression seemed accurate. The only decoration in the cold, sparsely furnished room was a shelf crammed with books. As she studied the titles, ranging from philosophical and technical manuals to novels and, for some reason, picture books, she asked:
“By the way, why didn’t you reveal yourself to me sooner? I know the Federacy has confidentiality protocols, but you could have at least sent me a message…”
It was one thing not to disclose their identities during the operation to destroy the Morpho, but afterward, Shin had known that Lena would become the commanding officer of the Strike Force. Embarrassed, he replied:
“Sorry about that. During the rescue operation, we were constantly on the frontlines, and afterward, when the Strike Force was formed, the confidentiality protocols became much stricter. We weren’t allowed to contact anyone outside.”
“…”
Lena had asked the expeditionary unit about the headless skeleton emblem several times but received no answers due to confidentiality regulations. Now she recalled how Commander Richard had stifled a laugh while his chief of staff, Willem, had smiled knowingly. She had also requested the personal file of the processor, which should have contained their name, but the process had been delayed so much that she never saw it. It felt like everyone had conspired to keep the two of them apart…
“And besides, I was certain you’d catch up to us, Colonel.”
“Huh?”
“I was sure you’d follow our final path. I thought if I reached out or came to you myself, it might seem like I doubted your ability to do so on your own.”
“So… you remembered.”
“Of course.”
Shin spoke in his characteristic calm tone, as if it were nothing at all. But for Lena, no other words could have made her happier. He remembered—he believed in her and that she would one day catch up to them. Lena bit her lip. This was the perfect moment to say what she had wanted to say. If she didn’t seize it now, she might never find the courage again.
“Shin,” she addressed him by name.
Shin turned toward her, closing the door to his room. Lena cleared her throat awkwardly before continuing.
“Could we… call each other by our names? In public, it wouldn’t be appropriate, but in other…”
Major.
The Eighty-Six had always addressed her by rank, as a mark of distance. It underscored their relationship: oppressor and oppressed. A white pig safe behind the walls, and the proud Eighty-Six outside. It drew an invisible line, a reminder that they weren’t close enough to use each other’s names or pretend to be friends.
But now, she had stepped beyond those walls. Even if she hadn’t stood beside them on the battlefield.
“For these two years, I’ve fought tirelessly, though it doesn’t compare to what you’ve endured. Even if I couldn’t make my dream a reality, at least I never ran away. Can you see me the same way you see the others…”
Like Raiden, Theo, Kurena, and Anju. As comrades-in-arms.
“…and call me by my name? Could you, please, call me Lena?”
Shin looked at her in surprise, as if caught off guard. It was as though he had only addressed her by rank out of habit, not malice. A faint smile appeared on his face.
“I don’t mind. But on one condition.”
“Condition?”
“Yes.”
As Lena braced herself, Shin spoke:
“Please, stop making such a sad face.”
His words pierced Lena’s heart like a knife.
“I don’t…”
For some reason, her response came out awkwardly, as if her voice were caught in her throat… as if she were on the verge of tears.
“You do. Honestly… it’s starting to weigh on me.”
There was concern in his voice and gaze.
“When I told you to remember us, I didn’t mean to remember our deaths. I didn’t mean for you to live every day trying to atone for sins you never committed… I didn’t say those words to punish you, so you’d go around with such a tortured expression…”
It was as if he were saying he didn’t blame her for anything…
“So, stop wearing that somber uniform. It doesn’t suit you… And the same goes for your hair.”
After a brief hesitation, he gently took one of her long, silky strands between his fingers. It was dyed red—the color of the blood shed by the Eighty-Six.
“You don’t need to do this anymore. You have no sins that need atoning for. No one condemns you, so please, stop… Stop bearing a cross that doesn’t exist.”
Lena slowly shook her head.
"It’s not a cross... It’s not guilt. It’s armor. The black-dyed uniform. The red strand of hair. All of it was armor I desperately needed to fight alone in the Republic, where everyone had forgotten what it meant to fight."
“But…”
The words escaped her pink lips without her realizing.
“…no one stayed with me. Not you, not anyone—all those I commanded after you left moved forward, leaving me behind.”
A calm voice in her mind urged her to stop, but the bitter whisper broke free.
"It was your country that exiled them. Your country that sent them to their deaths. You have no right to say anything, no right to cry to him about your loneliness."
“No one believed in me. No one would fight alongside me… No one stood by my side.”
"Even though I begged, ‘Don’t leave me.’"
“My uncle and mother died, and I was left completely alone… If I hadn’t pretended to be strong, I would never have lasted this long. If I hadn’t called myself the Bloody Queen, if I hadn’t believed in that lie myself, then I…”
“I understand.”
“…would have broken long ago.”
Shin acknowledged Lena’s vulnerability without a word. Perhaps he saw himself in her confession. Maybe the boy her age had taken on the name of the God of Death for the same reason—to survive on a battlefield of certain death.
“But you don’t need it anymore. You’re not alone now… You have me, Raiden, and the others by your side.”
The warmth of his body, slightly warmer than her own, which had once made her nervous, now comforted her. It lent weight to his words and gave her hope.
“Didn’t you want to fight alongside us?”
“!..”
Lena had reached her limit. She pressed herself against the person finally standing by her side and cried like a child.
“Well, they’re… how do I put this? A troublesome couple, huh?” Theo said, holding one hand over Frederica’s mouth and using the other to restrain the squirming girl.
“Didn’t think I’d spend the whole day covering for them from these two,” Raiden replied, holding Kurena in the same manner.
They were at a corner in the corridor where Lena clung to Shin, crying loudly. Raiden and Theo hid in the shadows behind the wall, whispering as quietly as possible so Shin’s sharp senses wouldn’t catch them.
Anju sat on the opposite side, observing Shin and Lena with a handheld mirror, a fox-like grin on her face.
“Kurena-chan, Frederica-chan, you really need to learn some self-control. I get it—you don’t like seeing another girl steal your big brother away, but at least let them have today.”
Kurena and Frederica let out muffled protests, either in disagreement or indignation. They probably wanted to say, “He’s not my big brother!” but their complaints were tactfully ignored.
Shin would have done anything to keep the recording of his conversation with Lena after the destruction of the Morpho from ever being heard, but Theo was glad they had. Shin, the God of Death, who fought alongside them and carried their fallen comrades to their final resting place, had been told by the tearful Curator what they had always wanted to say but couldn’t. Because it was for their sake that Shin had borne that burden.
“I’m glad the Colonel didn’t die.”
“Agreed.”
Anju snapped her mirror shut.
“He’ll notice us any moment. Time to clear out.”
“Fiiine.”
“C-c-confirmed.”
All the effort Lena had spent on her makeup had been for nothing.
“I’ll re-dye the strand,” Lena said, her voice hitching as she hiccupped.
Shin gave her a faint smile.
“I think that would be best.”
“And I’ll change my uniform too.”
“Yeah.”
“But I’ll keep wearing the black one until a replacement arrives…”
“You could just wear the Federacy one, couldn’t you?”
“No, that’s too…” Lena started to say, but she stopped herself. She had put up with Shin’s antics for so long that she figured it was her turn for a little payback.
“Did it… suit me?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Huh?”
Caught off guard, Shin stared at Lena. Unable to think of an answer, his mouth hung open. Seeing the normally composed and distant Shin flustered like this, Lena couldn’t hold back her laughter.