Lena firmly asked him to stop. Shin had to smile at this Handler who would go so far to mourn the death of people…of Eighty-Six who weren’t even human.

“Yes. I don’t believe in it either… But…” Looking up, knowing full well that there was no heaven or hell out there, he narrowed his eyes in a somewhat pious manner. “I do think that if this is what you get to see before the end, maybe it’s not so bad.”

As the Holy Mother’s sculpture drifted in the dark water, a pious smile on her lips, a single streak of white light cast a faint, silvery glow on her.

The Carious Saber’s Edge

The frozen twilight battlefield was covered in blue passion flowers blooming out of season and silent as the eternal slumber of death. It was in this chilling blue that Shin snapped out of the combat heat that dominated his thoughts.

Looking around the battlefield through the veil of his optical screen, he saw no movement, no stirring. Only the smoldering wreckage of Legion lying amidst the sea of flowers, silently run aground with nary a flame billowing from them.

Look though he may, there were no enemies left—no people, either—in this battlefield that had long since slipped from the dominion of man.

For a second, the thought crossed his mind that he was once again all alone, but he soon shook his head. That wasn’t true. His comrades on this special reconnaissance mission were all still alive. They were simply too absorbed in combat and strayed away from him. If he focused, he could hear Raiden sigh through their linked Para-RAID. He said, with a half-exasperated voice, “Come back already, you moron.”

Giving a brief “Yes,” Shin turned off the Para-RAID and disembarked from his Juggernaut. The darkening sky lost its vivid blue colors only for a golden sunset to momentarily take its place before melting back into a darker, colder hue of blue. And all around him, as far as he could see, was a crushed and trampled azure that seemed to reflect the heavenly sphere.

Looking back at it, the Juggernaut he had fought in had worn out and damaged its armor and armaments all from the long march and repeated combat all the way here. With this and the armored being clad in the color of dried bone, the whole thing truly looked like a rotting, headless skeleton.

He used Shin’s spare parts to replace what had been broken in the battle that started their mission. His high-frequency blade had snapped, its sharp cross section glinting dully in the gloaming. How long had it been since they set out on this special reconnaissance mission? They’d come a long way. They were probably outside the Republic’s former territory by now.

Shin narrowed his eyes, recalling the words he entrusted her with. That Handler—Lena—would come to this place.

A cold blue descended on the skies of the Republic capital of Liberté et Égalité, impeded as it was by high-rise buildings. As Lena passed through the garden outside the military HQ on her way home, she suddenly stopped to look up at that lapis lazuli hue.

It was the sky heralding the long autumn night, a dark sky on the cusp of winter, the season of death. Are Shin and the Spearhead Squadron somewhere out there, under this same sky? Or are they…?

Where are they now? How far did they go?

Would Lena catch up to them and reach this place where he stands today?

Shin pondered as he watched the sun completely dip into the horizon and a blanket of darkness sink over the field of blue flowers. Would she hold on to that wish until after the war ends? Or would she come here in the middle of the war? The blue flowers of crucifixion bloomed as far as the eye could see. Their vines extended not into the heaven, but crept across the ground, clinging to the soil—bearing their crosses.

He marched, unsure of how far he went, through a battlefield ruled not by men but by the Legion, fighting and pushing forward. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if he was still alive or if he’d died. He could feel vividly how many days of endless marching and fighting were gradually whittling him down.

And yet.

Someday, she’ll bring flowers.

At his back was his Juggernaut, sprawled out like a bleached corpse, emblazoned with his Personal Mark of a headless skeleton. Even broken, the warrior’s skeleton still had a keen edge—like the tip of a sword, like the point of a spear.

And just like that edge, there was one thing that would never fade from his mind, even addled by the battlefield as it was. Her face, unfamiliar though it may be, was the vision he most longed for.

Kitten

Thinking about it reasonably, if there was no room for the Eighty-Six within the eighty-five Sectors, even though they were Republic citizens, surely there would be no room to keep a cat. That strange, dreary thought hung in Lena’s mind for a moment as she held up a high-class brand of cat food with a fancy logo on the can.

Since the Republic was surrounded on all fronts by the Legion, the cat food on its store shelves was all synthesized, free of precious rare resources. It looked like meat and smelled like it, too, which meant it was probably better than the synthesized rations the Eighty-Sixth ward got, which the Processors aptly described as “plastic explosives.”

Lena wouldn’t go so far as to say that one shouldn’t own a cat in these conditions, but the fact that the food it got was better than what they sent to other humans could only be described as backward priorities, to put it lightly.

Opening the can with a deep sigh, she poured the oddly stiff glob of synthesized protein—covered in what appeared to be sauce and some other mysterious dressing—onto a plate.

“Here you go. Time to eat.”

She knelt and placed the platter in front of a black kitten with white socks sprawled on a cushion in her room’s corner. It was the kitten Shin and the Spearhead squadron raised in their barracks. It saw them leave for a battle they would never return from and was left in her care along with their final words. In their eyes, this cat was probably a symbol of a brief, transient time of serenity.

The kitten eyed the needlessly elaborate cat food she placed before it with disinterest, and then looked away. Apparently, the glob of synthesized protein didn’t strike it as appetizing. She knew the Spearhead squadron went hunting when they had the chance, so it was probably used to getting scraps of that.

Or maybe…what the kitten didn’t like was the fact that Lena took it away to live cooped up inside these walls. Lena’s mother insisted that any animal kept by filthy Eighty-Sixers must have been just as dirty, so Lena didn’t take the kitten out of her room.

And since she was busy with the new unit she was appointed to, the Brisingamen squadron, she didn’t have much time to spend with the kitten during the day. What’s more, since the “nature” that decorated the First Sector was all fake, well-prepared, and covered in insecticides and herbicides, there were no bugs or birds outside the window.

Compared to a life where it was free to prowl, where there were animals and bugs to see…and most importantly, where it had a big family in the Spearhead squadron, this life was too different.

“…I’m sorry. You must be lonely with all of them gone.”

She softly patted its fluffy fur. The curled-up cat opened one eye and looked up at her emotionlessly. Looking back at him, Lena smiled with a hint of sadness.

“I…I feel lonely, too, without them.”

It’s been a while since the last five members of the Spearhead squadron left for the eastern front, but she still felt inclined to switch on the Para-RAID at the same time every night. Every night, she would speak with those soldiers whom she only knew by their voices, and every night she looked forward to hearing the composed, serene voice that always greeted her first.

Good evening, Handler One.

Shin. How far have you gone? Where are you right now? Have you fallen? Are you asleep? The fact that I don’t even know that…makes me so lonely.

The kitten, who let her pat it to her heart’s content so far, stretched out its feet and rubbed its face against her palm. She stood and it nestled against her bosom, letting out a soft meow that was closer to a breath.

I’m lonely. That’s what she thought it said.

“Yes.”

I’m lonely, without you. I’m terribly lonely.

Growth

Meals were something Frederica always did on her own. So, having other girls close to her in age there, even if they were older, was a new experience. Her foster father (on paper), Ernst, was always swamped with work and rarely came home, and the maid, Theresa, had her breaks while Frederica dined, so they didn’t eat at the same table together. The situation was much the same before she came to this mansion. And so…

“You eat like gluttons, you lot!”

Even if they didn’t remember the particular dishes anymore, people remember the cuisine they ate in early childhood for the rest of their lives. Over the last week, Theresa gathered recipes and tried her hand at different kinds of Republic cooking. And so, Frederica now stared with stunned eyes as the dishes on the table were picked clean in moments.

Frederica hadn’t finished half her plate yet, unaware she had halted her knife and fork to stare in amazement. Ernst, meanwhile, seemed to have predicted this and called Theresa over with a knowing smile.

Shin, Raiden, and Theo were still in their growth spurts, of course. Kurena and Anju wouldn’t grow much taller, but their physiques and figures were still due to settle into feminine maturity. On top of that, years on the battlefield meant that, compared to other boys and girls their age, they had much more muscle mass and a higher metabolism that required more food.

In other words, Ernst had anticipated they would eat this much. Or rather—

“Is there enough, everyone?” Theresa cocked her head, concerned. “I could make second or third servings, if you’d like?”

“Oh… No, it’s fine. It was great, though,” Raiden said.

“My, I’m glad to hear it. Thank you.”

Frederica shuddered, looking upon their exchange. “Wait. Are you to say this is enough to satisfy you…? Just how much can your stomachs contain?”

“You won’t grow if you don’t eat this much, munchkin,” Kurena cooed at Frederica proudly, licking a bit of sauce that stuck to the edge of her lips.

Frederica grumbled, her eyes moving between Kurena, Anju’s…and then her own chest, in that order.

Large, appropriately sized, and…relatively restrained (euphemistic language).

“…Is that how it works?” she pondered.

“Hey, what are you looking at, you precocious brat?” Theo asked, impolitely resting his chin on his hand.