That Raging Hell
Evening
The Skies Above Arene
City of Arene, Imperial Territory
“Grantz, follow my lead!” Visha called back to the lagging rookie.
No matter how much better he was than his fellow cadets, Grantz was still a newbie to extended conflict. And it showed.
“Yes… Ma’am!” Grantz called back, breath coming out in ragged spurts.
Visha nodded, noting with displeasure that the bandages around her torso had become soaked in sweat. Her own exhaustion was making itself clearly known as well.
It had been an hour now since their temporary break back in the park. One massively draining hour of sporadic engagements with the Francois’s most elite mages. It was hard to explain just how mentally taxing it was to fight in such enclosed quarters.
Perhaps if Tanya were with them, she and Grantz could conserve their energy better.
Unfortunately, in a maneuver that was scarily clever, the Republican mages had managed to draw the Argent out and away from Visha and Grantz All it took was collapsing part of a building behind her and they were gone. By the time the two Second Lieutenants had managed to fly over the building, Tanya was gone.
Visha frowned as the faint observation formula she was running registered a spike in Tanya and some Named Republican mage’s mana output. Her frown deepened as the output cut off abruptly.
Interference?
“Grantz, contact Neumann and Koenig. I want a status report-”
“It’s no good, Ma’am.”
“Ha?” Visha glanced back.
Grantz looked up from his Type 97, frustration and fear mingling in his expression.
“The signal won’t go through at all. I think we’re being targeted by interference spells.”
“Typical. Either they’re targeting just us, or they have jammer in individual units blocking everyone. Either way, that’s a big problem for us.
“So, what do we do?”
“We do what the Major told us to do.” Visha reloaded her rifle, “Take out hostile forces. We’ll regroup with the rest of First Company, then work to reestablish communication lines with the other Company Commanders.”
“Which means taking out the enemy jammers?”
Visha nodded.
I want to find you, but you’d be much more upset if we’d abandoned the objective just for you. Please be okay, Tanya.
-=-
“Fuck off already!” Tanya grit her teeth, blasting back and up off a nearby rooftop.
These fuckers are starting to get on my last, last nerve. She mentally snarled, the open air around her providing a great view of the area around her. Because of this, she saw the exact moment the final mage from the latest batch of Republican idiots decided to act.
With a sharp cry, the mage bolted in her direction, making use of multiple illusions the split her focus. It might have worked on a mage from the Entente or the Republic.
Get real.
Tanya sent out a pulse of interference magic, dispelling all but one of the illusions. She held her position, even as the last of the images passed directly through her. Then, she spun around, the mage blade on her hand cutting through her real opponent like butter.
Eugh. Tanya grimaced, whipping her arm out to the side immediately after, blood splattering off and down to the ground below. She gave her gloves a disgusted look.
They’re supposed to be jet black and stain-resistant, yet I can see and feel the red setting in. What a mess. She shook her head. I’ll need to get new ones. Again.
“Devil of the Rhine!!
“Real original.” Tanya muttered. She glanced up, ready to take down the newest nuisance of an enemy as they charged towards her.
Uh, that’s the singular “they”, I suppose.
This time, however, it was just one mage rushing towards her instead of several. They, or rather, he, pulled up short several meters away, ostentatious armor that practically screamed Francois gleaming in the evening sun.
At least he’s not riding one of those ridiculous fucking metal horses.
“So, we finally meet.” The mage, somehow giving off the exact impression of a man that jerked off to his own reflection, brushed his hair back with a hand, “You are shorter than I’d expected from the Empire’s most fearsome attack dog.”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Tanya held up a hand, a mage blade sparking to life over it as she pointed it in his direction, “You don’t have to answer that. It won’t really matter after I kill you.”
“I am Lieutenant Colonel-”
Okay so we’re doing this now.
“I really don’t care.”
“-Severin Vianto. Captain of the Francois Republic’s 2nd elite Mage Company.” The self-proclaimed Captain continued as if Tanya hadn’t spoken. “The spearhead of the Republic’s fierce Special Forces.”
Prick.
“Remember my name, for it shall be inscribed on your tombstone. If there’s enough left of you to even fill one.”
“Funny, I’ve heard that one before. I’m sure a few of your subordinates said it too. I wonder what happened to them?” If they were going to talk, then Tanya was going to talk. “You look like you peel the crust off your sandwiches because it’s rough on your stomach.”
“I- excuse me?” Vianto blinked, momentarily taken aback.
“You heard me.” Tanya activated mage blade over her other arm, “I’m a bit busy right now cleaning up your mess, so let’s hurry this up, shall we?”
“You arrogant-”
Vianto grit his teeth at the casual dismissal, before shaking his head and relaxing. He chuckled, easily melding back into his arrogant-yet-refined-gentleman look.
“How crude. And they call you White Silver.” He pointed, his lip curling into a snarl, “Even as the Devil that you are, your hands stained crimson with the blood of my comrades and countrymen. Your gleam is muddied at best; Rusted Silver is far more apt a title.”
Hm, he’s too close for me to pull out my gun right now. Close-ranged combat it is. Joy.
“Insult me, accuse me, call me whatever disparaging title helps validate your delicate sensibilities. I don't care.” Tanya tensed up slightly, ready to launch herself at any moment, “But don't pretend your hands are sparkling clean compared to mine, you igniting spark in this flaming rebellion that's engulfed Arene. Rest assured, if we were to shake hands, the blood wouldn't know on which hand it began, and on which hand it ended.”
Vianto dropped his haughty act as quickly as he’d adopted it, a shadow overtaking his expression.
“We will see.”
It was silent. A slight breeze ruffled their hair, neither biding a single centimeter.
Then, by some unseen signal, the two bolted forward.
-=-
Elsewhere, the other members of the 203rd were in tight spots of their own.
I can’t reach the other Companies. Koenig ducked behind a halfway-imploded chapel, quickly checking the magazine on his rifle. A wide-range interference spell? That takes skill.
He launched himself away from the wall, just in time to escape an explosion blasting it to pieces.
They’re able to track me out of sight, even when I was minimizing my mana presence. Koenig shot upwards, lasering in on an opposing mage that had their back turned. He aimed, squeezing the trigger and sending a piercing formulae-boosted bullet directly through their cranium. That was too easy-
His eyes widened and he spun, barely deflecting an enemy mage’s mage blade with the stock of his rifle. The gun split in half, Koenig letting the remnants fall from his hands as he darted backwards out of melee range.
Like I said, too easy. A jammer always has another mage within sight as backup. And considering the skill levels, the one I took out was definitely the backup.
Koenig split off, sending out illusion decoys to gain a temporary reprieve. One illusion flew directly toward the jammer, immediately dissipating for its efforts. The real Koenig, meanwhile, settled behind a nearby clock tower a block away.
They’re highly-skilled, yet somehow, none of their mana signatures are registered. That means they haven’t been active on the Rhine Front until this very moment. Major Degurechaff was right. Things will move more quickly now; the Republic is bringing out all the stops. These are Francois elites, brought out now that the situation is tilting Imperial-favored. They must finally be scraping the bottom of the barrel.
Again, Koenig leapt away as the wall behind him exploded. This time, however, he turned to the jammer mage, a smirk lighting his face.
In other words, they’re running out of ammo!
-=-
“I’m out of ammo! Bastards!!” Neumann tossed his gun to the side. “Regular bullets aren’t working anyway, not with those barriers!”
“What do we do?” His wingman yelled, ducking behind a largely demolished stone wall.
“Give me a minute!” Neumann yelled back, taking cover behind a wall of his own.
Across the street, however, the Republican mages had no intention of giving him that minute.
“Shit!” He threw up his active barrier just in time, as a brick thrown with magically enhanced strength threatened to turn his brain into a Jackson Pollock painting.
“We won’t hold up like this for long!” His wingman hazarded a glance over the wall, flinching as another brick threatened his life as well. “We’re take severe damage at this rate!”
Dammit. Dammit!
Neumann grit his teeth, glancing around at the rest of his Company. The building shuddered around them, some trying to throw bricks back and others ducking behind cover just the same as him and his wingman. All were beaten and bruised in some way or another.
I didn’t want to do this.
“Quickly, contact Major Degurechaff! Ask for her assistance!”
“Will do!”
Serebryakov is going to give me so much Hell for this.
“Shit! No good!”
“Hah?!” Neumann shot his wingman an incredulous look.
“An interference spell is blocking communications! We’re on our own!”
“Damn it all!” Neumann resisted the urge to slam his head into the wall.
Of all the goddamn times, of course the Republic chooses now too-
“Oh wait, I’ve got it!”
-make the biggest mistake of their lives. Neumann grinned.
“Send the call for aid right now!”
“Yes sir!” The wingman held up his Type 97, “All Companies, Fourth Company is pinned down and under enemy siege! Requesting assistance on our position ASAP! I repeat, Fourth Company is pinned down and under enemy siege! Requesting immediate assistance on our position! Over!”
-=-
“All Companies, Fourth Company is pinned down and under enemy siege! Requesting assistance on our position ASAP! I repeat, Fourth Company is pinned down and under enemy siege! Requesting immediate assistance on our position! Over!”
Grantz gave her a nervous look, “Ma’am!”
“I heard it.” Visha turned around, glancing over First and Second Company. “Fourth Company needs help! Make sure to let them know the bar tab is on them after we save their asses. And Second Company! Make sure Lieutenant Weiss know he owes me for doing his job for him!”
“Yes Ma’am!”
Visha nodded, “Let’s go!”
-=-
“All Companies, Fourth Company is pinned down and under enemy siege! Requesting assistance on our position ASAP! I repeat, Fourth Company is pinned down and under enemy siege! Requesting immediate assistance on our position! Over!”
Koenig activated a radio spell.
“This is Pixie 03. Third Company is on its way, over.”
He glanced down at the rapidly cooling corpse of the enemy jammer. Then, with a careless shrug, he took off, the rest of Third Company following suit.
We’ve almost got them.
-=-
Almost got me there. Fucking hell, why does he have-
Tanya contorted backwards, twisting in midair to avoid another magically enhanced strike.
-a fucking broadsword?!
A crescent-shaped slash of magical energy swept underneath her arced back, slicing the tip off a nearby church’s lightning rod.
Tanya spun forward, axe kicking down. Vianto shifted, catching the blow on the shoulder instead of the top of his head. His pauldron dented from the force, its leather straps snapping as it was sent hurtling to the ground below.
Vianto darted backwards, barely catching Tanya’s mage blade on the hilt of his sword. They held for a moment, locked in magically enhanced stalemate.
Tanya was the one to break it, pushing off and launching a point-blank optical spell with her other arm. Vianto went flying, crashing through several buildings before finally coming to a stop a few blocks away.
Damn… Tanya panted, wiped a bit of blood from where she’d accidentally bit her lip earlier. She flicked it away. This fight is going on longer than I’d like. If I keep fighting him with just the Type 97, this won’t end soon enough. And why haven’t any of the other Companies reported in? Jamming?
Off in the distance, a glowing figure rose from a dust cloud.
Tanya clicked her teeth. Managed to get a barrier up in time, eh? He has power and skill; I’ll give him that.
The figure glowed even brighter for a moment, before making a beeline in her direction.
I’m tired of this.
Tanya breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. The figure grew closer, Vianto’s features contorted in a righteous fury.
In, and out. In, and-
Just as he was about to slam into her, Tanya’s eyes snapped open.
One gold. One blue. Her barrier sprang to life, Vianto’s blade sparking uselessly off its surface.
“Damn!” Vianto reeled back, quickly readying himself for another strike. He didn’t get the chance.
His eyes widened. “She’s-!”
Tanya appeared above him, moving so fast she almost seemed to teleport. Her hands were clasped above her head, a massive aura of mana surrounding them.
“Adieu, Lieutenant Colonel.” She spiked her arms downward, the blow crashing straight through Vianto’s active barrier like a hot knife through butter.
…No, even butter would put up a better resistance.
BOOM
The ground shook, a massive plume of dust and debris kicking up at the impact.
The gold faded from Tanya’s eye.
“Ouch.” She shook her hands out, pain dripping from the tips of her fingers.
“A bit much, perhaps.” Tanya sighed, “I don’t take kindly to imitation tactics. They say it’s the sincerest form of flattery, but I just don’t see it. Especially not when your version of airdropping is used to incite senseless violence and rebellion.”
Silence met her remark.
“What am I doing? Preaching to a dead man?” She turned, glancing across the heavily damaged city around her. “Well, dead or about to die, at least. Should I make sure…? Hm?”
Tanya looked down, her Type 97 buzzing against her chest. She gripped it with one hand, pulling it closer to her face.
“Hello? This is Pixie 01, over.”
“Major! Are you alright?”
Tanya blinked.
“Vish- er, Lieutenant? I’m perfectly fine. What’s the status of the battalion?”
“Oh, thank god.” She could hear Visha clear her throat, “Right, the battalion. No fatalities. Most of Fourth Company is wounded at varying levels, about half of them are receiving field medical attention and will be good to go shortly. Third, Second, and First Companies have no serious casualties.”
“Excuse me? What the hell did Fourth Company do?”
-=-
“Umm.”
Visha glanced over at Neumann, who was being treated for a dislocated shoulder and wood shrapnel across his side. Despite this, he had a wide grin on his face, as though throwing the main supporting beam of the building he and the rest of the Fourth had been holing up in was something to be proud of.
“…You’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Visha could hear Tanya sigh over the radio spell.
“Fine then. And the enemy mages? I believe I’ve disposed of them all over here.”
“They’ve all retreated to a singular block in the northeastern section of the city. According to Koenig, they’ve started fortifying the area and are holing themselves up.”
“That’s good.”
“It is?” Visha’s brow furrowed, “Won’t they be harder to reach?”
“If they’re holing themselves away, they won’t be able to cause trouble elsewhere. More importantly, they won’t bother us anymore.”
“Right…”
It was silent for a moment.
“Well adjutant, I believe we’ve more than done our duty. Once I arrive, we’ll plan our next step. We should be able to close out this chapter of the war before long.”
-=-
I’ve wanted to help my country for as long as I can remember. My Fatherland means everything, and if going to war is what will save my home, then of course I’m the first to sign up.
Grantz gripped the stock of his rifle, the leather of this gloves creaking from the force.
To be given the opportunity to work under the White Silver, the strongest mage in the Empire and perhaps the world, was a dream come true. I still feel like I’m dreaming, to be honest. But this… is this really a dream, or a nightmare?
“To the soldiers of the Francois Republic within the city of Arene: release your captives at once. By order of Clause 3, Article-”
Major Degurechaff… she looks as though a weight is pressing her downwards.
Smoke rose in the distance. Cratered buildings, smashed city streets, and demolished towers dotted the horizon.
That’s right. She is our Commander. Which means this is her burden to bear. Our actions are her responsibility. But how is that fair? How is it fair that this terrible decision rests on her shoulders alone? And this situation. Should we really be doing this?
“Repeat. This is the final announcement. This is the Imperial Army-”
Ah, that’s right. Just focus on you own survival. Move forward.
Grantz shook his head.
Who would want to be a soldier? No matter how I think about it, this is Hell. At least this will be over soon. We’ve done our part. We’re issuing the surrender. The end goal is in sight. We should be able to- ah!
His eyes widened.
They… they shot them. The Arene citizens, revolutionaries, they… shot the captives!
“Did you find them, Lieutenant?”
“Yes. Here, watch.”
What? Grantz turned.
Major Degurechaff’s expression was blank as Second Lieutenant Serebryakov showed her a recording from her Type 97.
“How regrettable.” Her hands clenched. “I wanted to save them, but it doesn’t matter now. Does it?”
“No.” Serebryakov shook her head. “It looks like only enemy forces are left in Arene, Major.”
“Send the video back to Rhine HQ. It’s time to pull back. The artillery bombardment will begin soon, and I’d rather have only Republic mages caught in it. Head to the rural outskirts.”
Artillery… bombardment?
He would soon learn what they meant.
-=-
Have you ever witnessed Hell?
“War is hell,” they say. The Rhine Front was “the closest thing to Hell on Earth,” many claimed. Mud, blood, shrapnel, and gun smoke intermingling with the disgusting taint of vomit, decay, and death. It was impossible to step a meter without finding a dead body, or a broken carcass of machinery, or the scattered puddled remains of soldiers with thoughts of heroism in their brains, only for those brains to splatter in the dirt.
Nothing could be worse than that. It was beyond a nightmare. Description did it no justice. They were the hellish byproducts of the worst invention of humanity amplified and displayed for all who dared to witness it. The closest thing to Hell on Earth, without the fiery rivers and tormenting demons.
This was not the Rhine Front.
Yet, it was Hell all the same.
Fire raged across the landscape, burning houses, offices, churches indiscriminately. No, even “fire” was too tame a word for such an event. Instead, it was an inferno. A blazing bonfire of carnage and carcasses.
If the Rhine Front was a true Hell, then this was a Biblical one, straight out of Dante’s work. The fiery river of conflagration rushed through the streets; it’s roar greater than any number of artillery pieces firing at once.
And you could be forgiven for believing demons were running amok, for the sound of human lives, of human pain and suffering calling out into the evening air was prevalent even over the crackling avalanche of flame. It was a bestial heat, rushing Phlegethon rending flesh from bone until even the bones were nothing but charred soot stains on melted cobblestone.
Even the lone river running through the city was not spared. Steam rose like serpents, the vicious hissing of the rover barely drowning out the cries of any who dared think to retreat into its water. Dante himself would have been horrified. Or delighted, to see his work so clearly reflected in reality.
All this and more, Grantz and the rest of the 203rd observed from the safety of a series of rooftops.
This… Grantz covered his mouth, barely keeping from throwing up. This can’t be a nightmare. Not even nightmares are like this.
“HQ to Pixie Battalion.” The radio crackled to life. “Several enemy mages are serving as a rearguard for the retreat of remaining hostile forces in Arene. All enemies in Arene must be eliminated. Over.”
Huh? Grantz felt his eyes widen. He looked over frantically, to the nearby rooftop he knew his Commander was standing atop of alone.
“This Is Pixie 01.” He heard her reply. “The enemy forces are within visual range. They appear to be guarding an evacuating group. Over.”
“Pixie 01, can you eliminate them? Over.”
“We can. But…”
“After the remaining mages have been eliminated, the artillery will fire once more. Remember, only hostile forces remain in Arene. Do not dally. Over.”
Grantz looked around frantically. Everywhere he looked, he saw the blank expressions of his comrades. Second Lieutenant Serebryakov glanced at him, before turning to reload her rifle.
“…Acknowledged. Pixie 01, out.”
We can’t. We can’t! If we wipe out those mages, the people they’re guarding-
Grantz shook his head, taking off without a second thought. No one tried to stop him, though perhaps they simply didn’t react fast enough. Reaching the edge of the rooftop, he jumped, using a quick burst of a flight spell to land on the other.
There!
“Major! Wait!”
Commander Degurechaff turned her head.
“Second Lieutenant Grantz. What is it?”
“Major,” Grantz panted, “Haven’t we done enough?!”
“Hm?”
“If we take them out, then- Major, they’ll be helpless.”
“Grantz.”
“We can’t! Those people will die!” He stumbled forward, reaching out a hand. “Please Major, reconsider!”
Smack!
Grantz fell backwards, a bright red mark adorning his face.
The Commander let her arm drop.
"Second Lieutenant, carefully heed this lesson I’m about to bestow on you. Someone must die so that someone else might survive. This is the truth of the world. “
“Major, I-”
"This is the order from our superiors. Use an observation spell. Look.”
Grantz did as she said, turning his gaze on the far away group. And what he saw… Anger. Hatred. Eyes burning with a fire that had nothing and everything to do with the literal fire raging all around. The color drained from his face.
“The enemy you let go will take up arms once more... to shoot you. We must eliminate the enemy forces if we wish to survive.”
For the first time, Grantz noticed the single tear track running down the Commander’s face, standing out against the grime and blood.
Leaving an enemy alive meant another person willing to shoot you in the back. And failing to perform your duty meant having the Empire itself willing to shoot you in the back. It was truly a lose-lose situation.
Grantz clenched his fists. His vision blurred, drops of water hitting the rooftop below. Suddenly, he froze. A hand patted him on the shoulder.
"That anger, that frustration and sorrow... all those powerful and devastating things you’re feeling right now, they’re eating you alive, aren’t they? That's good. That means you're still human. Surviving means knowing these emotions. Living means making them your own. Allow them to sharpen the steel of your heart. Survive now with that anger, frustration, and sorrow, so that someday soon you shall be able to live."
"Does that... make it easier?" Grantz wiped his eyes roughly.
"Perhaps.” Her hand tightened, “Some would say it is easier to forget. To pretend like the bad things never happened."
"I don't think I can forget. But...I wish I could go back. To before this had happened. I feel so naive now."
"There is no going back. Not anymore. You wouldn't belong there now. Remember, but do not dwell on what cannot be changed."
"I'm sorry. I don't-"
"Listen to me. Really listen.”
Grantz looked up. In that moment, Commander Degurechaff truly resembled her namesake. The White Silver… she practically glowing.
“To dwell is to stagnate. To stagnate is to die. You have to go forward. Ever forward. Do what you must in order to survive. That is all you must do. Don’t worry about anything else. Let your superiors be the ones to worry."
The Commander turned, walking toward the roof’s edge. She raised her submachine gun.
“Now pick up your gun, Second Lieutenant. These are our orders. At the very least, fire until your gun is empty. Until you are unable to.”
That’s right. It’s an order.
Grantz grasped at his rifle, pulling it roughly off his back.
I’m a soldier. I have to follow orders. That’s what it takes to survive.
He didn’t bother checking his ammo. It had been reloaded a while ago.
I have to follow order. I have to follow the Commander. I have to-
The barrel of his gun lifted. A spark of mana caressed the length of the weapon.
The White Silver is our guide. I’ll follow her path faithfully. I have to, if I want to-
His mouth opened, “AAAAAHHHH-”
Bang.
-=-=-=-
Two Weeks Later
Hans von Zettour Office, Strategic HQ
Capitol City Berun, Empire
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Major Degurechaff, thank you for travelling here on such short notice. I’m sure you’d rather be with your battalion right now.”
“I am at your disposal, sir.”
Zettour winced.
“Yes, well, please have a seat.” He gestured at one of the offices two couches, settling into the one opposite of her. “How was the journey? Not too strenuous, I hope.”
“It was fine. My Vice Commander offered to accompany me, seeing as he’d been injured in our latest… operation, and would be otherwise an unpopular commodity in local brothels. My adjutant offered to come as well. She seemed oddly worried. They both did, in fact. But I turned them down.”
“Right…” Zettour trailed off.
It was silent for several awkward seconds.
“If I may be frank, General, why have you called me here? I doubt it’s to discuss the local climate, political or literal.”
Zettour sighed. “Straight to the point as always. I’ll give you the same courtesy then. Soon, we will put into motion a series of operations that will end this war. You’ll learn more details when the time is right, but I believe you deserve to know that much.”
“And how can you be so sure of this outcome, General?” Tanya’s voice was quiet, lacking its usual strength. “How shall the 203rd be involved this time? Shall we destroy another city for you?”
“Major, I-” Zettour let out a breath, “Major Degurechaff, you and your 203rd have been vital to the war effort. I’d like to commend you for that.”
Tanya inclined her head.
“That being said, I believe we have been a bit… too reliant on your talents. The General Staff has agreed to allow your unit to rest for the time being.”
“Why?”
Zettour blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Why, General? That doesn’t make any sense. This war is approaching a critical moment. Can you really afford this?”
“The 203rd is not being removed from the war effort. You may shelve your concerns there.”
“That’s not my concern at all, sir. My concern is that the war effort will be for naught. So, I ask again. Can you really afford to bench your elite unit right now?”
“Like I said, the 203rd will still be involved in the war effort. In fact, you will play a key role in ending this conflict for good.” Zettour leaned forward. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Major. The rebellion in Arene has severely damaged our war sustaining power. The northern flank of Rhine Front is pulling back to compensate for this loss.”
“But that’s not true, sir. The production centers of Arene were mostly damaged by the rebellion, yes, but they were also largely repaired when I left. The rail station from that area is how I got here, even.”
“You’re right, Major. It isn’t true. However, our enemies don’t know that, do they?”
Zettour saw the brief flash of recognition cross the Major’s face, before it immediately faded back into the blank apathy she’d been sporting.
He would admit to know one the trickle of worry in the back of his mind.
“Once the army is withdrawn, I will have the best of your 203rd take part in an operation that will end the war. But before that, we'll need to thoroughly fool our enemies. A recon-in-force will be carried out by a mage unit, covering our escape and convincing the Republic of the opposite.
"Let my 203rd do the recon-in-force."
Zettour blinked, "Now, there's no need to be so hasty. We'll need you at full strength for the later operation, so I think it’s be best if-"
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't believe any other mage unit is appropriate for such an important mission. Allow me and my battalion to take on both operations."
"Are you sure? This will be an extremely dangerous mission. The mage battalion we've considered has already accepted the risk. Again, we'd like the 203rd to be fully rested for-"
"I can't accept that sir. My battalion is the best suited for this operation. Please allow us to carry out both operations."
"Major, are you not worried about your soldiers?"
"Can you ask that honestly?"
"Major?"
"My soldiers will be in far more danger should this war continue. As will everyone else. General, how many more innocent people will die if this war is extended? How many must suffer unnecessarily because we hesitated at the wrong moment? This must end as soon as possible. Give me the order, and I will take on this role and fulfill my duty."
"You mean, your battalion will."
Tanya said nothing. Zettour took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
It was silent yet again.
The General sighed. "…I get it now. I see it clear as day. Major, you’re burning up."
Tanya tilted her head, displaying the most genuine sign of emotion Zettour had seen from her all meeting.
"No?"
"Yes, you are. You're burning up clear as day. You just don’t realize it. I suppose that’s our fault. One day soon, you will understand. Eventually, you’ll look down for the first time and see the burns."
He put his glasses back on.
"Very well. The 203rd will take on both missions. Godspeed to you."
"Thank you, sir." Tanya stood and saluted.
"And for what it's worth." He said quietly to himself, after the Major had left the room, "I am sorry.”