Operation: Rescuing Moimisu

"Never thought Tomas could move this fast!"

"Appears to be a modified model. Improved propulsion system and additional tires are visible."

Hmph. Not like that before.

Io grips the handle of what looks like a maintenance hatch on Tomas's back, bracing himself.

Smooth, aerodynamic contours. One would assume such a bulky frame lacks mobility, yet it moves surprisingly fast.

Multiple wheels, each as large as a man's torso, are mounted on the underside of the multi-legged chassis. Likely designed for ground travel. Same principle as the walking tank Cyphs.

This mechanical feel—gradually starting to understand why the lizard likes this design. Or rather, why the creator of this world does.

"Surprisingly comfortable. Lizards make decent machines after all."

The机体 lurches upward, briefly savoring weightlessness. Likely bounced by a ground ridge.

Impact upon landing is immense. Overwhelming force.

Incidentally, the lizard that once piloted this Tomas now lies as a bloodstain, firmly adhered to the right rear leg of the Tomas.

"Goblet! Is Moymisuka holding on?!"

"Insufficient data to determine.

However, extreme disadvantage is strongly suspected."

No staring contest. Full-force combat never lasts more than a few seconds.

If not acted upon, Moymisuka will be crushed.

Io has already approached the power station area. Advancing through the terrain, cleaving down thin trees and small rocks with the Tomas.

Familiar battle symphony—firing, explosions—echoes in the air.

Tension begins to rise. The exhilaration before the real engagement starts.

What’s the VIP we’re supposed to rescue?

Camille Crouan. Pilot of the Condor assigned to guard Moimiskar.

A bust shot appears at the edge of the field of view. Helmet and visor obscure the face completely—gender is indistinguishable.

The file lists her as female.

Daughter of Vitto Crouan, president of the Duivenne provincial council on the Karaf continent. She was scheduled for early evacuation from Karaf but refused.

That’s going to be a tough one. Alive or dead, doesn’t matter.

Failure to extract her renders this operation pointless.

Harsh words. Implies the rest of the unit has no value in her rescue.

Still, whatever Goblet says now is irrelevant. Even if this AI lacks will, the action will fall to me.

So—save the 3552 before the world, and Moimiskar along with it.

Agent Io, engaging hostiles.

Breach them!

Reached the perimeter of the power facility. Multiple Cyphs scurrying about are visible.

Lizards clinging to the concrete wall, firing at the facility. Perfect rear flank position.

Tomas’s turret extends, retracts with the shot—automatically loads the next round, vents smoke.

Enemy disorients. A brief lag before recognizing their own weapons have been seized.

...right? Sometimes they ignore minor details and attack the player character with overreaction.

First round highly effective. Avoid firing at main facility structures—risk of collateral damage.

I’ll handle that! Silence the Cyphs!

Io breaches through shattered concrete blocks and fencing.

Tomas swerves sharply under Goblet’s control, plowing through a Cyph and racing between what appear to be chemical storage tanks.

—Enemy comms封锁 lifted—

—Connect!

Sliding into rubble near by. The lizards are shrieking and panicking.

Easy shot. The enemy is completely disoriented.

—Moimisuka Team, this is Squad 3552, we’ve taken them from behind!

—...What?! 3552?! “Assassin Io”?!

What’s with that nickname? Can’t you come up with something cooler?

A muttered curse as he rakes Raven fire indiscriminately.

—Borrowed an enemy Tomas mid-operation. It handles well—don’t attack it.

—Captured a Tomas? How are you controlling it?

Corporate secret. More pressing matters at hand.

Tomas plows into the enemy vehicle ahead of Io’s line of sight.

The difference in armor and mass is stark. The vehicle spins once, flies through the air, and crumples against equipment.

If anyone was inside, they’re minced meat by now. Not even a lizard’s hamburger—too repulsive to imagine.

‘Io, enemy forces are beginning to withdraw.’

‘What? Already cleared?’

‘Likely regrouping. Letting them retreat would invite another assault.’

Surprised, but that’s how it goes. Retreating once after a surprise attack is the smart move.

‘Pursue with Tomas. Just borrowed it—still want to play with it.

Don’t wreck it.’

‘Understood. Tomas will operate solo for now.’

Engages hidden enemy. Magazine empties. Reload time a waste. Io draws the handgun and rolls from cover.

— Moimisuka 02, all units, advance! Support 3552!

Sergeant, can Condor still move?!

Climbs the wall while suppressing fire, immediately cuts in.

Shooting with minimal exposure. At point-blank range, one lizard’s head explodes. Io drags the corpse close, uses it as flesh shield, then shoots the second one in the back.

— Io, multiple enemies inside facility.

The door behind bursts open. Three lizard faces.

Those who were fighting inside now appear, belatedly.

— Hey, this one’s mine.

Io is ready. Covers face with one arm, rolls the flashbang with the other.

One of the items borrowed from the Sinclair team’s vehicle during the joint operation with the Reaper.

The explosion shatters hearing completely. Lowering the arm, Io sees the lizards writhing.

— Correcting neural function.

Doing such a thing at this range, Io cannot expect to come out unscathed.

But what Io has, and the enemy lacks, is the presence of Blue Goblet.

Tinnitus. A single lizard lunging blindly with its gun is instantly shot. Then another. Then another.

By the time Io aims to kill, the handgun is empty. Io leaps at the final one.

Avatar support works precisely. A hyper-realistic melee motion. Io drives a kick straight into the struggling Weedran’s knee.

The force and weight of the strike bends the leg beyond its limits. The leg twists in a direction it must not bend.

Reverse joint. You’ve mastered the Cyphs, huh. Hold onto the enemy’s right hand, right shoulder. Twist your body, drop your hips.

Stomp on Weedran’s head as he collapses in a scream. The feel of the skull cracking. Visceral.

“This thrill, might become addictive.”

Too late. Already addicted. Io’s already fully immersed in this game.

Switching the magazine on the revolver while calling out behind him. Thanks to Goblet’s support, his hearing was recovering rapidly.

“How long are you planning to stare?”

Soldiers burst out from inside the facility. They move quickly, pressing against nearby rubble to begin perimeter surveillance.

Good gear. Decent movement too. Following a story with no weapons, no supplies—just a squad of boy soldiers—makes one envious.

The officer saluted. Io’s body responded automatically.

“Thank you for the rescue—but just you alone?”

“Regrettably.”

“Expecting further aid?”

Too much hope from an NPC. What did he expect from a boy soldier squad?

“Cut the jokes. You’re the rescue unit.”

—

A map lay spread across a dusty desk.

“This is the point where we were attacked by anti-aircraft guns not listed in our intel.”

Orland Bashikim, commander of Moimisuka 02, pointed to a location fourteen kilometers east of Skordy Mountain, home to a power station.

To the northeast, a city served as a Weedran stronghold.

The interesting part was that, according to pre-mission data, the northeastern town of Skordy Pule was supposed to be completely uninhabited.

“The Weedran in Skordy Pule must have set up the anti-aircraft guns.”

...If the reconnaissance unit had done their job for the pay, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

A member of Moimisuka’s squad quipped. Orlando scratched his shaved head and reprimanded the man.

“Keep your mouth shut. All units are restricted in operations for force preservation.

There’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Nothing we can do about it? Shouldn’t you work on that phrase, Lieutenant?”

Moimisuka had heavy casualties and equipment depleted from the prior engagement.

While Io’s team conducted their meeting, preparations for treatment and evacuation were underway in frantic haste around them.

The situation was bad. That kind of tension fed the atmosphere. Orlando, commander of Moimisuka 02, lacked cohesion—further worsening the mood.

‘Agent Io. Blue Goblet continues wide-area surveillance.

The volume of流动 data in the surrounding area is increasing. This is Weedran's assault unit.

(Already here? I kicked Tomas's ass thoroughly enough, didn't I?)

It seems we overdid it.

(What do you mean by that?)

"Made the enemy take us seriously," Blue Goblet puts it.

(How much time do we have? Rough estimate is fine.)

The next attack is predicted in as little as seventy minutes.

Quite a bit, Io thought, studying the map.

Realism is good, but it drags the pace in a game.

That resort facility, where we split from 3552, is six kilometers south. Seen this way, it's surprisingly close.

If the enemy's attention is drawn here, Io's tactical maneuver is working perfectly. 3552 will survive the crisis.

"Lieutenant, I'm back."

"Corporal, good work."

Watching from above as the enemy is pursued, Tomas is something else. Can’t even rent two or three more machines like that.

Ask Sergeant Io about that.

The door creaks open violently.

A woman enters, her golden hair shaved short, thick brows, a deep scrape across one cheek.

Not tall. Slender frame, but visibly trained.

She carries a helmet in her right hand. Equipment differs from the others.

This is Camille.

“Assassin Io. A pleasure meeting you. Grateful for the rescue.”

“…Operation ID Io-200. Stop using that senseless nickname.”

“200. Sounds better than calling you by number. Whatever.”

Io takes the offered hand.

“Camille Koulange. I’m the pilot of Condor.”

The blue eyes flickered. The VIP in need of rescue seemed stubborn, as expected.

Sergeant Major—should be the highest rank on site—but looked surprisingly young.

Something in the bloodline, perhaps.

"Introductions are fine. Back to business.

The transport is repairable, but escape remains difficult as long as anti-air guns are active.

Detours aren't feasible. High risk of interception by enemy主力 units."

Orlando showed no concern over the 3552 incident.

Natalie’s resigned words had been correct. No one here truly intended to save the boy soldiers.

Understandable. The Moimisuka unit members had families, friends. None wanted to die.

"Just asking—does the transport have seats for us?"

...Sorry, Sergeant. If things have come to this, I must prioritize my own unit as commander.

Wait a moment, Lieutenant. You’re abandoning the children?

They’re right nearby. Just six thousand meters straight-line distance.

Camille snapped. He jabbed a finger at the map, irritated.

Thirty-five-fifty-two has over twenty personnel. There’s no way we can fit them all.

Our unit’s original role is escort. We exceed the transport’s capacity.

Not bad reasoning. If the sky’s out, I’ll accompany Thirty-five-fifty-two on their field trip.

Isn’t that what an escort unit does?

Camille, I don’t have time to debate with you.

The two men stood tense, locked in confrontation. Ioh stepped in.

Partially agree. We don’t have time.

Enemy re-attack within sixty minutes at best. If we don’t resolve this by then, you’ll all die.

Blue Goblet swims through Io’s field of view.

—Proposing a tactical plan.

Two hostile anti-air installations remain. With the captured Tomas, long-range bombardment can destroy them.

Agent Io, escort the Tomas.

—(Fine, I’ll take it. No point dragging out this pointless debate.)

Io points to the two locations marked on the map, selected by Blue Goblet.

—Eliminate these two, and we can return?

—…Indeed, feasible.

—I’ll use the Tomas to attack. You stay out of range.

—Once the anti-air installations are destroyed, you’re free to leave. I’m returning to 3552.

Orland stares at Io, face grim.

—…You’re certain? I’m leaving you behind.

You won’t be able to board the transport even if we regroup. Only increases the chance of detection.

Better to scatter and hide in small numbers.

We want rescue, not a funeral escort.

3552 is in an enemy-dense zone. Returning won’t achieve anything. Just one corporal…

Orland’s words cut off.

“I’m responsible for bringing the kids back alive.”

The silence settled. Goblet spoke.

—Computation complete. Three movement routes proposed.

Including Moimisuka as combat assets is pointless. Proceed with the operation.

Is that settled? Io turns away and exits the room.

Outside, Tomas waits. Three Moimisuka operatives watch it nervously.

—Wait, Corporal.

Kamiyu came running. Hand on hip, looking up at Io with a teasing smirk.

A crisis, yet she grinned like a mischief-maker. Tough woman.

“Annoying, isn’t he? That lieutenant.”

“Cute compared to Weedran.”

“Predictable. A sergeant’s words carry weight.”

……“So, really, can you pull it off? That last tactic. Can I trust you?”

Tomas suddenly moves. Clunk, clunk, clunk—his multi-legs shift into a crouch, lowering himself before Io.

Io scrambles up the multi-legs to perch on Tomas’s back.

“Seems someone’s got a stake in you not dying, Sergeant Qulange.”

“…What’s that? Too bad, Sergeant. Trying to earn my favor is pointless.

We’re estranged. At best, we’d be pointing guns at each other.”

Camille spoke without hiding her irritation. Io snorted through his nose.

Finish this quickly and get back to 3552.

I don’t know what complexes you have about your name, and I don’t care.

If I'm not trustworthy, come up with an alternative on your own.

But regardless— I’ll carry it out.

Tomas snapped into a sharp turn and launched the moment Io gripped the back handle.