A stifling heat filled the interior of the full-face helmet, and the glow of the visor display supplementing her vision felt strangely blinding.

  The transport vehicle lurched violently. After two or three turns and a straightaway, the vehicle was engulfed in a massive tremor and a sheet of explosive flames. Emergency alarms screamed within the cabin. Crimson warning lights dyed the Peacekeepers’ helmets a vermilion that evoked fresh blood, while an inorganic mechanical voice repeated, “Attack detected. Please evacuate,” nagging like an overbearing mother.

  Everyone wanted to run. Beyond the reinforced bulletproof glass, the world was already cloaked in crimson hellfire, and Mafia combatants could be seen shouldering rocket launchers. Just as Diana was about to suggest stopping the vehicle to counterattack, another soldier slowly grabbed her shoulder, shaking his head.

  "Calm down, Rookie. Wait for the Section Chief's orders."

  "But we’re taking fire! We need to return fire immediately—"

  "I’ll say it again: Wait for the Section Chief. His judgment is our will, and it is absolute. Calm down, Rookie."

  The transport tore through the flames, plowing through the Mafia members blocking its path. A combatant on a rooftop prepared to fire a rocket launcher, but an automatic turret pierced the space between his eyebrows. He fell headfirst to the ground, a flower of red blood blooming upon impact.

  "Hound Unit and Hound One, do you copy?"

  "This is Hound One, go ahead."

  "We are arriving at enemy territory shortly. Fulfill your duty as the vanguard."

  "Copy."

  "Wolf Unit, prepare for combat. Follow the Hounds and focus on support. Fox Unit, your mission is to secure Mafia assets and analyze data. Combat is to be kept to a minimum... you are authorized to carry small arms only."

  "Wolf One, copy."

  "Fox One, copy."

  The transport smashed through the barricades and pried the shutters open before the back doors swung wide. Heavy metallic sounds echoed from the oppressive darkness. A black shadow fired a pile bunker into the torso of a gunman aiming his weapon, its single, dull-colored eye swiveling grotesquely.

  The Combat Reinforced Exoskeleton: Shinden.

  The emblem painted on the shoulders of the three exoskeletons emerging from the vehicle depicted a hunting dog devouring its prey. The Shinden, reflecting the combatants in its crimson mono-eye, caught a rocket warhead with its bare hand and hurled it back toward the thickest concentration of enemies. The minigun attached to its right arm roared, beginning a banquet of death.

  "Hound Two."

  "This is Hound Two. Go ahead, Hound One."

  "You and Hound Three suppress the warehouse district. I will hit the main storage with two members of Wolf Unit."

  "Hound Two, copy."

  "Hound Three, copy."

  Demons of steel, hunting dogs of iron, heavy cavalry heralding death. The humans piloting the Shindens were steel warriors worthy of the name "Iron Demons." They entrusted their judgment to their superiors and kicked aside piles of corpses; a sight terrifying even to their allies.

  After annihilating the combatants with overwhelming force and slicing a missile warhead in two with a super-hardened blade, a Shinden spoke over the comms. "Chief, annihilation of warehouse forces complete." It awaited the next order.

  "Fox Two, Three, Four—hurry with the establishment of the relay base. Wolf One and Two, join Hound One for the interior sweep and auto-beacon installation. Wolf Three and Four, support Hound Two and Three. Wolf Five."

  "Y-Yes, sir!!"

  "You’re with me. Fox One."

  "Orders?"

  "Once the base is set up, do not neglect comms discipline and information updates for each unit. I’m leaving this spot to you."

  "Where are you going, Section Chief?"

  "To fulfill the mission given by Silentium. I am temporarily transferring combat authority of the transport vehicle to you. Do your duty."

  "Understood, Boss."

  "Wolf Five."

  "Yes!!"

  "Don't rush."

  "..."

  "Do not miss your chance, do not offer an opening, and wish for death. Let's go."

  As Diana chased after Edes, who was sprinting into the depths of the warehouse drenched in screams and cries, a red laser pointer dot appeared on her armor. Her visor display flooded with red warning colors, projecting the word DANGER, but the crisis vanished with a single gunshot.

  Smoke rose from the muzzle of an assault rifle. Edes was gunning down enemies with precision while running. He swapped magazines with practiced hands and crushed the neck of a blocking enemy with his bare hands. He was a master warrior... a skilled soldier who made a living of killing.

  "Don't stop. Move."

  "...Yes, sir!!"

  Her throat was parched to the point of pain. Her body, encased in the combat suit, felt like it was burning. Sweat pooled inside her tactical gloves, and the finger on the trigger trembled slightly.

  She used to think there was nothing scarier than a battle where you couldn't see the end. A stalemate was a psychological weapon that whittled away a soldier's mind, an abyss with no bottom. But more than that, a chaotic battlefield where friend and foe were mixed was a potent poison that corroded the spirit of a new recruit.

  Chunks of meat blown to smithereens, charred corpses, bodies with hearts and foreheads shot through with terrifying precision, flattened piles of mince meat... If she activated the ventilation in her full-face helmet, the stench of death in the warehouse would likely pierce right through her nostrils. The reeking poison would surely violate the mind of a girl who had never known war. Swallowing her bile, Diana kicked through a pool of blood, activated her visor's night vision, and proceeded through the door Edes had kicked down.

  "Halt."

  Glint. A light scattered in the darkness. It was unclear if the night vision had pixelated a light source or if it was a glitch. However, call it a woman's intuition... Diana unconsciously covered her head, and a silver dagger slammed into the barrel of her assault rifle.

  A figure in black with unnaturally long limbs attacked. From the front, rear, and ceiling—three black-clad figures crept in. Their pupils were all dilated; they appeared to be heavily dosed on stimulants.

  "Gh—!!"

  She drew her handgun and pulled the trigger. In a situation where ricochets were the least of her worries, she visualized the CQC moves drilled into her body. She kicked the face of a black-clad figure leaping to drive a blade into her neck, and with the knife gripped in her other hand, she stabbed into a long arm, slicing straight through the artery.

  Cybernetic surgery? No, that wasn't it. The blood gushing out was human crimson. If they were mechanized, the blood would be the dark red of artificial fluid, and a knife wouldn't have sliced through so easily. She used her arm to pin the leg of the figure wrapping around her neck, fired a wire from her flank, and sent a current from her energy pack surging through it.

  Blue-violet lightning and the smell of searing flesh. The figure’s limbs went rigid, the costume burned away, and the mask covering the face fell to reveal a hideous, patchwork visage. With tongue lolling out and eyes glaring in the dark like a madman’s, the figure shook its strangely swollen head like a pendulum. Screaming, ignoring the electricity, it sank filthy, jagged teeth into Diana's armor.

  Teeth fell out, teeth shattered, gums bled, yet the figure kept biting like a tenacious dog. This was no longer human; it was a beast in human shape. A hellish ghoul lower than a cur. Diana let out a voiceless scream, pumped several bullets into the head that resembled a case of hydrocephalus, and stomped on the convulsing corpse with all her might.

  "Haa... Haa..."

  "Let's go."

  Edes' voice struck Diana's eardrums through the comms.

  "Satisfied? Time is finite. Stop playing with the small fry and move, Wolf Five."

  "Satisfied...? I—"

  Piles of corpses upon corpses, rivers of flowing blood. Edes, who had built this mountain of death, swung the super-hard blade in his hand to clear the blood, then fired his assault rifle into a black-clad figure that was still breathing.

  "Did you... do all this, Chief?"

  "Obviously."

  "..."

  "Kill them all, and the path opens. Wolf Five, you're taking too much time on a single enemy. Be quick, be swift, be certain. Kill them. Understand?"

  "...Yes."

  Speaking in a flat, emotionless voice, Edes wiped the blood from his helmet visor and broke into a run again.

  Shoot, stab, crush, kill. Wiping the blood splatter from her visor, the tactical gloves soaked in copious amounts of fresh blood felt heavy.

  She didn't know how many ambushers she had killed. Five... maybe more than ten, but counting had become too much of a hassle. She stomped on arms reaching out from the concrete floor and shot through heads wrapped in black hoods. The motion of ejecting an empty magazine and loading a new one was no different from the drills she had repeated dozens of times; it was merely a preliminary action for killing.

  She couldn't find a reason to justify the act of murder. As long as she was in the profession of a soldier, she thought she was prepared to kill. Her boot soles gripping sticky blood, her armor stained with gore shining under the flickering lights... If her parents saw her standing on a battlefield, killing people so casually, what would they think? What would they say? They might praise her for doing her duty, or they might revile her as a murderer.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  But... if there was meaning in this slaughter, surely it was for the sake of the mission. She stained her hands with blood to fulfill her duty as a soldier, carving a path through murder. Soldiers made their duty the mission given from above, using killing as a means to protect thousands, tens of thousands of lives beyond this place.

  Beyond the lives lost to crime, there is an infinite future. The future becomes a seed of hope illuminating a despair-filled world, eventually becoming light. Women and children are the foundation for tomorrow; men are the swords and shields to protect them. To protect people and secure tomorrow, soldiers grip guns and pull triggers. Isn't that meaning and reason enough to fight? That is why... amidst the flashing lights and unbearable screams, she stood on a battlefield that effortlessly shattered human ethics.

  Her hands, her fingertips, the joints squeezing the trigger felt seized up, as if stakes had been driven into them. Kill one, and another appears, charging with beast-like roars. She wanted to scream that it was all the same no matter how many she killed, but her throat was dry, and no voice came out. Instead of a voice, she pulled the trigger and shot the enemy dead. Bright red blood sprayed, splattering against her armor.

  Fighting to protect the future? Fighting for people? Committing murder for the sake of hope or light is a contradiction. Turning a blind eye to the dilemma, ignoring the fact that those she killed also had a future—that is nothing but arrogance. Even with the absolution of a "mission," even holding up the immunity of "duty," drenching oneself in blood cannot be called good; it is nothing but evil. So, what is she fighting for? For whom? Why is she killing people?

  "Is it painful?"

  "..."

  "Even if it’s painful, even if you groan in agony, do not stop your killing hand. That hesitation, that negligence, that doubt will take your life. Even if you are tired, the enemy cares nothing for your condition; they will fire their guns, flash their blades, and try to slit your throat. Wolf Five, if it’s too hard, then quit being a soldier. Go find a different job topside."

  As if feeling no fatigue at all, Edes cut down a black-clad figure, slamming the corpse pierced by his blade against the gray concrete wall, firing several rounds into it as it slid down leaving a smear of blood.

  A born soldier, a completed weapon, a man of steel who showed no mental wavering even in harsh environments... The uninspiring Edes she usually saw and the Section Chief of the Lower District Gate Administration Bureau performing a dance of death before her eyes were two completely different people. Inside her helmet, breathing raggedly, sweat beaded on Diana's forehead.

  She didn't know what lay beyond killing, and killing, and killing. Clinging to a fragile humanity, like protecting a flickering candle flame in the gale of battlefield chaos, her heart, wavering between soldier and human, was already exhausted.

  She couldn't see the end. She couldn't escape the fighting. She wasn't killing to protect; she was killing to survive. A powerful ego roared within Diana, laying bare her desire for survival, stripping away shame and facade.

  "No rebuttal? Fine. Check the point. Measure distance to target."

  "..."

  "Move swiftly, Wolf Five. You are moving with me. If you understand your superior's orders, then hurry."

  "When..."

  "..."

  "When... will it end? This hell... When will I be released?"

  After a moment of silence, Edes suddenly struck Diana down and pressed the muzzle of his gun against her visor.

  "Do you not have ears? I did not authorize questions. I have no need to answer your doubts, queries, or questions. If you understand, then move, Wolf Five."

  His cold voice, devoid of emotion, echoed in the corridor.

  "Seventeen seconds."

  "..."

  "The time wasted by your selfish hesitation is accumulating even now, pushing the burden onto other units. Move. Move and contribute to the squad, Wolf Five. Fulfill your pride as a soldier and your duty."

  She had thought the people of the Lower District were trash. She thought her heart wouldn't ache no matter how many she killed. But reality was different. Even if they were enemies, they were humans just like her. There shouldn't be anyone who feels nothing when a human kills a human.

  "But, Section Chief, they are human beings...!!"

  "I thought you considered the people of the Lower District to be lower than dogs?"

  "But... even so!!"

  Grabbed by the collar and slammed against the wall, the impact stopped Diana’s breath for a second.

  "Fox One, do you copy?"

  "Yes, Boss."

  "Report your status."

  "Warehouse district suppression complete. Hound Two and Three are mopping up remaining forces. Hound One, Wolf One and Two are securing the perimeter."

  "Understood. Fox One."

  "Yes."

  "I’m cutting comms for three minutes. Clear?"

  "Reason?"

  "Education. I have something to tell the rookie."

  "...Make it quick, Chief."

  "Sorry for the trouble."

  Edes loosened his grip on her neck. Diana fell to her buttocks on the ground, coughing. Turning his back to her, Edes spoke coldly. "There is no meaning in fighting."

  "..."

  "Diana. From our perspective, the 'tomorrow' we gain by killing people is like a sugar cube. Poke it a little and it crumbles; it dissolves and disappears. A sweet dream. ...Even if it's meaningless, even if it's worthless, we still have to protect it. Do you know why?"

  "...Because we are soldiers?"

  "That's right. We are Peacekeepers. Even if we witness a cruel reality, even if we know the unbearable truth, we must not break the sweet dream that people live in. We have no choice but to swallow the sin of killing, the evil of looking straight into hell, and keep living... Diana."

  "...Even if I swallow it, I can't digest it! If I stay on this battlefield, I’ll be lost forever!! Surely—no, absolutely, that’s what will happen!"

  "That is that, and this is this."

  "...Huh?"

  "Diana, I think that hesitation is your virtue. War is right beside us, and beyond the continuous killing lies nothingness. Because there is nothing, the heart goes numb, and eventually, you start thinking this is normal. That's why... you are fine as you are. Keep hesitating outside the battlefield, keep asking yourself who you are fighting for. So, that is that, and this is this... Diana."

  "...Chief, have you..."

  Have you gotten used to the fighting? To the battlefield? The moment she tried to weave those words, Edes returned to his ruthless soldier's voice. "Time's up, Wolf Five. We fulfill our duty."

  "The point is close. Check magazines and equipment, then we breach. Clear?"

  "...Yes."

  She stared at the door visible at the end of the hallway.

  Kicking open the door, Edes and Diana stormed in, assault rifles raised. What entered their vision were two figures.

  "Ailee."

  A neutral voice, neither man nor woman. A shadow wearing a bizarre headpiece of complexly interlocking brain matter and gears held up a yellowish-green vial to a man who was trembling and sobbing—Ailee. With a tone that was amused, pained, and filled with sorrow, the shadow spoke wearily.

  "How foolish, how base, how vulgarly stained is the soul... truly filthy. Don't you think? You have already lost the great cause and been poisoned by a rotten conviction."

  "You two! Hands behind your heads, get down! This is Lower District Public Security. If you don't resist, I'll kill you painlessly."

  "Lower District Public Security..."

  "That's right. Drop the object in your hand. Otherwise, I kill you in five seconds. I will kill you while making you feel like the most unfortunate wretch in the world, regretting that you were ever born. Choose, Trembling God."

  One red laser dot aimed at the shadow's head, the other stopped dead between Ailee's eyebrows. Ailee, who had been trembling slightly, began to shake even more violently. "Prophet!! Mercy! Give me one more chance!! Next time, next time I will definitely do it right!! So please... grant me your generous mercy..." Instead of the two soldiers pointing guns to take his life, he clung to the shadow called the Prophet.

  "Ailee, I am sad. Do you know why?"

  "B-Because I focused only on my own desires and neglected the Order!!"

  "Wrong."

  "Because I did not look to your heart and went against the Order's teachings!!"

  "Wrong."

  "T-Then, why..."

  Slither... Moving like a snake extending its neck toward prey, the Prophet peered into Ailee's eyes. Softly, like a whisper, in a tone used to teach a child, the Prophet spoke into the ear of Ailee, whose face was twisted in extreme terror.

  "Why do you not desire death? To wish to keep living... I am saddened by that fact."

  "I was always thinking. About your actions, your thoughts, your emotions... I strongly believed that eventually, you would understand my wish and embrace the great cause for the sake of prayer. But in the end, you can become neither my Faust nor my Mephistopheles... Gretchen has vanished somewhere. You, who steal nothing and hold no Walpurgis Night, were not the vessel... It is truly sad, pitiful, and foolish."

  A dry gunshot rang out, and an empty casing danced in the air. Edes had pulled the trigger of his smoking assault rifle. The bullet struck the Prophet's headpiece, scattering the decorative gears and brain matter like a splash of blood.

  "Boss, orders to fire?"

  "Shoot!!"

  "Gh—!!"

  "Commence firing!! Targets are two members of the Order of the Trembling God!! Lethal force authorized!! Wolf Five, shoot! Kill them!!"

  The concrete wall was destroyed in chaos, the smell of gunpowder filtering through the helmet's ventilation. Amidst the dust blocking her vision, Diana tracked the lingering heat signatures and kept pulling the trigger, watching Edes draw his blade.

  Is he planning close-quarters combat? Is he going to charge through this bullet storm and take their heads directly? Her finger loosened for a split second, but Edes' voice echoing inside her helmet—"Keep firing!! Don't worry about me, Wolf Five!!"—brought the strength back to her trigger finger.

  Sweeping away the dust, Edes slipped into the Prophet's guard with the agility of a tiger-wolf, swinging his blade in a fierce barrage. Crimson sparks flew. The sound of assault rifle fire echoed, and the shadows wielded by the Prophet clashed and burst against Edes' blade, unfolding a seesaw battle of offense and defense.

  Shadows that lashed out like whips and struck with the destructive power of explosives. They were twelve mechanical wings deployed from the Prophet's back. Steel wings that handled both offense and defense, from blocking bullets to intercepting enemies, parried Edes' fierce onslaught and deflected every single bullet heading toward Ailee.

  "We are in the middle of doctrine right now... Peacekeepers, I wish you would be quiet for a moment. I am... grieving. Why does everyone rush toward unhappiness, living while whipping themselves with pain..."

  Covering their face with both hands, the Prophet, shaking their hair that resembled gold thread, wept tears through the gaps in their fingers.

  Manipulating the twelve wings skillfully, the Prophet overwhelmed Edes, blasting him into a steel container and severing his left arm at the shoulder. As Edes screamed in unimaginable pain, the Prophet let out a sorrowful sigh.

  "Death is an unavoidable terror; life is the pain of walking through a burning hell. One does not live because they want to die, nor do they live because they do not want to die. There is nothing as full of hardship as a life full of contradictions, and nothing as full of pain as a death met all alone... For what purpose do we live, for what purpose do we die? The answer is only one... People live because they want to obtain a satisfying death. Simply... if one prays in this moment, it is because they wish to savor the beautiful you, the moment of happiness, for eternity..."

  "P-Prophet, I-I am..."

  "Faust sold his soul to Mephistopheles to gain tomorrow. Macbeth rode the advice of three witches and fell into hell. Dante passed through the gates of hell and obtained Beatrice's forgiveness at the summit reaching heaven. ...Ailee, who is there for you? Who says they need you? Who would desire you, who loses nothing, steals nothing, and only takes? Ah, Ailee... you are truly full of sorrow, dull, and foolish... Ailee... you dull-witted one."

  Her body trembled, and the finger pulling the assault rifle trigger went slack. Click—the slide locked back. Realizing she was out of ammo, Diana was terrified by the Prophet clad in grotesque divinity.

  There was a mind being swallowed by madness. Indescribable terror drove a wedge into the edge of her heart, connecting with her psyche. Every word he or she spoke wiped away Diana's sense of incongruity, forcing a twisted holiness upon her, trying to make her accept it.

  She wanted to run away from here. Pretend the mission never happened, abandon her duty. Taking a step back, projecting an escape route on her visor... Diana saw Edes collapsed and bleeding.

  "..."

  If she ran away after being swallowed by terror and madness, what would happen to him?

  "..."

  He would definitely be killed. There is no way the Order of the Trembling God would overlook a dying soldier. Obviously—they were insane, and the value of life to them was different than it was to her.

  "Hrgh...!!"

  Screaming, Diana drew her blade and slashed at the Prophet, only to be deflected by the steel wings. She slammed into a container, groaning in agony, but as she stood up again, the flame of wrath flickered in her eyes.

  "Don't underestimate me," came the words wet with saliva. I won't yield, her heart trembled, her spirit rousing itself. She pulled the wing that had pierced her flank out of her body, activated the armor's muscle contraction function to apply first aid, and gripped her blade once more.

  Killing someone for the sake of the mission. There is no legitimacy anywhere for killing someone. The profession of a soldier fights to kill, and killing to achieve an objective is a mirror of sin possessing the duality of means and ends. The ultimate ego of killing an enemy with one's own hands, for one's own sake.

  Protecting someone, protecting the future—even saying such high-minded things, the underlying thought is the ego of wanting to protect the self. Because people cannot admit that, they seek meaning in fighting and killing, struggling to obtain an indulgence. However... if one can admit even that, ego becomes power, becoming the source of an unyielding determination called "resolve."

  "...Boss."

  "..."

  "I cannot become like you. Absolutely not."

  Edes, taking shallow breaths, nodded slightly. Seeing that, Diana turned off the escape route display and readied her blade.

  "That is why."

  "..."

  "I will protect those within my reach. To do that... I will kill the enemy. That is the profession of a soldier, isn't it? Section Chief."

  Steel wings flapping, she fixed her gaze on the lamenting Prophet.