Ground collapse

Mood was terrible. Body, pushed without proper rest, rattled with fatigue.

Yet something felt remarkably good. Peak condition. Kill if desired, no effort required.

Win every fight. As if preordained. No enemy, no weapon, posed any threat.

—Counterbug, online! Attach to enemy Defender’s emission device!

Boomer’s energy grenade punched a hole in the hostile Defender. Hartie’s palm-sized, bat-like drone slipped through.

Drone appeared to be shot down by Tomos’s countermeasure system—then emitted a specialized electromagnetic pulse.

The surrounding blue barrier collapsed in unison.

—Go, Gerello!

—Smoke drop! Nanomachine fill: three seconds!

Tomas is targeting us!

Cyphs too—disrupt the enemy's FCS!

Ioh's unit eliminated the enemy force that had entered the water purification facility through ambush and surprise attack, then pushed back a following enemy unit all the way to the large elevator used for material transport.

Weedran had crammed Tomas, Cyphs, and personnel into the elevator to the point of overcapacity, yet that still wasn’t an issue.

Darting through the facility with unrelenting speed, exploiting localized advantages with precision, eliminating enemies with calculated shots.

The disparity in force wasn't a matter of double or triple advantage—beyond such metrics entirely.

Still, as previously noted, Ioh was in peak condition.

Goblet!

Tomas, protection enhanced. Thirty seconds until seizure.

Io surged into the smoke screen while the Boomer reduced the Cyphs to slag with a captured laser launcher.

That's right. The one who always leads the charge is this man.

Snake Eye reveals the enemy's position. Hostile environment. Close-quarters combat. No opponent matches Sergeant Io.

In a world thick with delay, he eliminates three targets instantly. He follows with a fragmentation grenade. Confirming the enemy unit is temporarily disabled, Io activates his jump unit and lifts into the air.

Target: Tomas. On this point, Io even holds a fondness for Weedrun.

The toy is always generously lent, so gratitude is warranted.

Sergeant Io covered! Hartie advancing!

Gelero advancing!

Under Boomer's covering fire, Hartie and Gelero move forward.

A plasma grenade is thrown from the enemy side, but Boomer's energy grenade still lingers in the air—its phosphorescence silenced.

Boomer, showerbug confirmed! Hartie!

Counterbug engaged—last one!

I’m out of energy grenades too! Io, we’re past our limits!

The bat takes flight again, confusing the enemy’s identification system, drawing the self-destruct weapon. The repulsive swarm of cockroaches, mesmerized, follow the bat’s path—then turn sharply back toward their master, detonating violently and scattering lethal shrapnel.

Tomás, acquisition complete. Rebooting.

It’s going to break loose—evacuate!

The streamlined spider shudders, its large roller tips on the legs emitting a high-pitched whine.

And by the time it reached that point, the fate of the Weedran unit was already sealed.

—

On the ground level, Tomás bursts through the transport elevator’s shutter.

Multiple Weedran transport craft, apparently waiting to recover their allies, were confirmed. The pitiful lizards had mustered a feeble defensive posture, but Io shoved Tomas into them and shattered it.

Explosion in an instant. The lizard was crushed into scrap metal.

The laser launcher pierced the rear of the transport craft, shaped like a bird clutching a cage, detonating the aft thruster. Fragments tore through nearby Weedran units.

—Aggressive Link, mark enemies on the fly! Advance suppression, follow me!

Io advanced. Hartie and Gereiro followed behind. Amidst flames, smoke, and screams, they maintained a crouched firing stance, inching forward at minimal speed, never stopping.

Reload!

Cover me!

Position switch. Hartie moves forward. Gereiro halts beside Io, scanning full perimeter. Engage on sight.

Io finishes reloading, taps Gereiro’s hip. Gereiro instantly reverses, shifts to rear guard. Io switches again with Hartie. Forward pressure resumes.

Sudden cessation of covering fire. Communication from Boomer, stationed atop the water purification facility’s roof via jump unit.

— This is Boomer. Captured laser launcher’s fried.

Barrel’s melted. No covering fire possible.

— Enough, Boomer. Guard Pax.

— Copy. Don’t slack.

Tomos smashes the last enemy transport. Executes the writhing lizard in the inferno. Io inhales, pauses.

— (Snake Eye, maximum output)

Range effect fifty meters. Increasing. Record update, Agent Io.

Shot the one hiding in the rubble. Ran over the two attempting to flank. The remaining enemy fleeing—leave them be.

Gunfire and artillery echo from not far off. Assault force under Crewk should be approaching as planned.

(Snake Eye, shutdown)

Agent Io, all enemies in vicinity eliminated. Outstanding performance.

All units, maintain alert. Await Boomer's arrival.

Already here.

Turning back, Pax stood behind, shielding Boomer, who had arrived.

Helmet damaged severely from high-caliber sniper fire.

Pax, burdened with gear—either fallen comrade’s or enemy loot—handed Boomer the next weapon.

He’d been told to abandon it and run if things got dangerous, but that hadn’t happened.

‘This is Captain Creeke’s temporary squad scout team—Maxen.’

‘I know that name.’

‘Sergeant Io, current temporary squad is drawing enemy forces at six hundred meters east.’

‘Maxen, you’re… higher up.’

Sergeant Io’s sharp senses detected a gaze from above, from the upper floors of a nearby building.

Two soldiers in Lincoln unit armor were looking down on them.

Apparently had broken away from the squad to provide covering fire.

‘Can that Tomos still be operated?’

‘It’s a borrowed toy. Let me use it a little longer.’

‘Rejoin Captain Creeke. I’ll guide you.

Two relay points along the route are holding sniper teams in wait. Escort them.’

Little Lady’s map data updated. Io called Tomos back to nearby cover.

heard that? Swap your magazines now. Move forward using Tomas as cover.

Maxen delivered the good news.

— Captain Creeke sent this.

A carry case drops from the building. It rolls to a stop before Io’s team and opens, releasing gas.

— We couldn’t bring weapons—shortage—but here’s emergency recovery serum and grenades. A few rounds too.

— Appreciate it, Scout Team.

— Thanks go to the Lieutenant.

Maxen turned and vanished into the building. Heading to a sniper support point, apparently.

— Cool guy. …But.

Hartie sighed, rummaging through the box.

— We’re using recovery serum too much. Should’ve been dumped into a bio-tank by now, hooked to dialysis.

— …Hey, Guerrero, need this?

Hartie asks with a frown. Guerrero had taken fire multiple times—shoulders, thighs. Possibly more.

Guerrero shakes his head.

Treated. Not needed. Take it yourself.

Then good. Do as you like.

Hartie says nothing more. Guerrero glances at his wrist chrono, offers a dark smile.

Time. Death—will be repaid.

Grinding. The ground begins to tremble. Intensifies. Soon unsteady on feet.

A grinding sound. Like a large animal’s cry.

Oxanun splits open. Debris and soil swallow the enemy.

A tall tower tilts far off. Then the outer structures begin to sink.

…Seeing it for real—unbelievable sight.

Never pulled off destruction on this scale, not even in Sinclair."

Boomer, kneeling and bracing himself, seems unwilling to think about the virus.

Hartie doesn't seem able to let go.

"Kharaf... left everything behind. Did this.

...Not dissatisfaction. Can rebuild what's broken. Can reclaim Kharaf.

...But what about Kharaf Virus?"

A surreal, inexplicable spectacle. The historic streets of Oxanun vanish in an instant.

Everything collapses.

...Mission successful....Objective... achieved.

Zagi... it's over...

Gelero collapses, head bowed.

—

The mixed temporary unit under Crook’s command is inexplicably energized.

They had been waiting for Io. The weight of being a hero in the war against Weedran was heavier than Io himself realized.

Every soldier in Oxanun knew Io’s victories were not exaggerated propaganda. They had learned it firsthand.

Now they are seeking another miracle. At the very end, in this final, hopeless situation, they still believe—somehow, it can be turned around.

‘A certain classified operation for the defense of Oxanun has just been completed.

The results are what you’ve all seen. The Weedran forces that infiltrated Oxanun have been decisively crushed.’

Yuaris’s voice echoes. The soldiers who know nothing scream in triumph.

All they understand is that the enemy—so strong they could not hate enough—screamed as they were swallowed by rubble and debris.

They couldn’t imagine what was happening behind the scenes.

— You really went all out. That medal’s still not enough for you, is it?

The enemy unit, flanked by Io’s group and the temporary squad, lost its combat capability and withdrew.

The first to appear, stepping on the lizard’s corpse, was the Salmatia Heavy Cavalry.

Significantly reduced in number. Only six remain, including Oliver.

The six were battered beyond recognition. Their signature assault armor looked on the verge of total collapse.

— Execute the retreat per the operation plan. Shrink the defensive line. Hold the ship. No further orders will be issued.

The command center abandons command authority to prevent intelligence acquisition by Weedran. All data will be erased.

Afterward, we will conduct maximum delaying combat until the end, using all remaining defensive capacity.

All further communications will be conducted through the cruiser Valovelin’s command functions.

…………To all who participated in this battle.

………………Thank you.

Communication ends here. — For Sitalskia.

Io slowed the Tomos and waved at the soldiers.

Ahead, Crewk stood on the hatch of a quadruped tank, and behind him, the 3552nd Squad leapt in celebration.

—Pax!

The short boy charged forward. Shorty.

Pax and Shorty embraced, then exchanged loud insults.

—Shorty, that toilet location you said was total bullshit!

—I said “probably over there”! And seriously, you didn’t need to use the toilet at all—just do it right there!

—You—! You’re helping me clean toilets in Audar, got it?

Laughter ripples through the crowd. Crook leaps down and kicks both of them in the rear, one after the other.

This is no time for play. You’re a burden to your comrades!

“Sorry, Lieutenant!”

We’re isolated, deep in enemy territory. Move out—now.

Sergeant Io! Can you use that captured weapon?!

“As you see.”

Lay Tomas flat. Spin him once, sharply.

Crook nods, satisfied.

Fall back while we maintain rear security with the tank unit and the Sarmatians. No time to waste.

Understood, Lieutenant. And… sorry about earlier. About everything.

Crook’s face hardens, but he does not lash out here and now.

“Get the launcher vehicle moving! Has Corporal Carlyle finished repairs?!”

The order had already been relayed. The temporary squad’s soldiers move without hesitation.

A sudden comms burst. From Michelle.

She’s slumped in a salute beside the hexapod tank—apparently wants to speak in private.

—You’ve got something to say to me, don’t you?

The squad begins its retreat, Crook leading. Io follows, keeping Tomas close, unable to suppress a wry smile.

—Michelle. You’re getting the worst part of the play.

—…That’s it? Just that? You’re kidding, right, Io?

—Sorry, Michelle. But you’ve got one more scene to deliver.

—There’s more? …Fine. I’m ready, I’ve made my peace.

Thirty-five fifty-two leaps into the transport. Soldiers salute it into motion.

Before they’ve moved far, Boomer speaks up.

—Gerello’s not here.

Sergeant Io rises from atop Tomas, glancing back.

Gerello sits amidst the rubble-strewn street, saluting.

Hartie establishes a connection immediately.

"This is Hartie. Gerello, what are you playing at?"

Gerello does not respond. Still saluting, he watches silently.

Boomer’s expression remains unreadable.

"Hey, Gerello. I’ve got things I want to say—but—

still, you did well. You and Sergeant Zaji make a solid pair."

Gerello says nothing again. Just a faint, breath-like smile.

"Sergeant Io, leaving him behind?"

"Some find death a kind of salvation."

"...I don’t agree, but the burden of the operation rests with the one who issued the order.

Ideology doesn’t matter. She is a soldier."

"If you were in his place, could you accept it?"

Hartie shook her head. Naturally, sideways.

Multiple meanings. Complex emotions. Expected, given the circumstances.