Chapter 809 - VOLUME - 11 ( CHAPTER - I)

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SEPTEMBER 25, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, GENERAL ZETTOUR'S OFFICE AT THE EASTERN FRONT ARMY HEADQUARTERS

"I read through the preliminary version of Plan B. And I have to ask… Are you insane? It reads like spur-of-the-moment gambling notes you scribbled on the back of a napkin."

Despite the attempt to keep a level of composure, there was hesitance in Zettour's words. If his conversation partner was his regular self, he may have picked up on this.

Rudersdorf, however, met his words with a look of pure bewilderment.

Damn it all, Zettour cursed in the confines of his mind.

"Let me be clear about this. What are you trying to do here? Why would you even consider something like this?"

"To avoid losing this war. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you."

The topic of their discussion was the plan upon which the fate of the empire rested—a topic worthy of a bit more enthusiasm.

What had happened to his friend who made the same pledge of military service, with whom he shared a vision for their nation's future? Why did he have to verbally spar with the man he considered his blood brother?

Zettour swallowed his initial doubts and continued to mechanically repudiate his friend as any general in his position should.

"I'm shocked. Do you intend to set Plan B in motion the moment diplomatic overtures fail? This says we're supposed to overthrow the government, then immediately invade Ildoa?"

The imbecile sitting across from him gave a deep nod before continuing with a question from the bottom of his heart.

"What do you expect to come from this?"

Zettour was a career soldier who had watched the war develop from the inner depths of the General Staff Office. He knew the life blood of his nation was running thin.

He had faith his understanding was accurate.

This was why he, together with his long-time friend, struggled to find a way out of this mess with the least sacrifice.

Zettour gave his friend a stern gaze.

My friend, Rudersdorf, you damned fool… Just what kind of game are you up to?

"I wish to prevent the impending collapse of our nation. Ildoa has always been a weak point in our defense, and it's about time we fix that." Rudersdorf raised his head a bit as he spoke.

What an answer. It almost made Zettour want to have hope.

"And you believe there's something we can do to avoid our impending demise?"

"I think it should be avoided."

Not could, but should. It wasn't a question of possibility but an object of Rudersdorf's desire.

Is that the best he can come up with? Zettour sighed as he thought this to himself.

Was Plan B not the product of the Empire's exhaustion reaching a point where they could no longer entertain any other alternatives?

And yet here I am discussing this with my old friend. This idiot.

"I didn't expect you to be concerned with what we should do at this stage in the game, Rudersdorf. Perhaps your foresight is becoming harder to distinguish from your hope for the future."

"Zettour. Tens of thousands of soldiers have died under our command. We must…accept that we've made mistakes. But we also can't let these deaths be in vain. We must consider every possibility. We can't be the ones to destroy the very ideal our troops died fighting for…"

Many who served under Zettour had given up their lives, believing in the final victory. Not a day went by that those lost souls didn't haunt him.

Still, there was nothing he could do to change this.

The old man would have to live with this anguish for the rest of his life. Part of his duty as the deputy director of the general staff was to keep himself

current on the state of his nation. That was how he knew it was impossible for the Empire to reach the Goddess of Victory.

Ah yes, that damned goddess. She'd finally lured the Heimat to hell with the sweet ambrosia of hope.

"Listen, my dull friend. This goddess you lust for is but an illusion. Let's refrain from committing adultery… Or have you forgotten the passionate love you share with your wife?"

"I make a clear distinction between military affairs and my home life. I'll have you know I've been nothing but faithful to both my spouse and the war."

"You say this, and yet here I watch you pursue a love we both know will never bear fruit."

"It's my duty. It's what I must do."

Ah, of course.

There was an audible tone of disappointment—or perhaps despair—in the sigh Zettour emitted.

His friend had sworn to serve the Reich. He would likely do anything for his nation. He loved his homeland, but this was nothing more than him crying out and weeping at the thought of losing it all.

We need to make a choice now!

"I'm going to say this because I'm your friend, Rudersdorf." "Oh? Let's hear what you have to say."

"…You can't claim bankruptcy on a loan taken out as a gamble. Have you given any thought to what we stand to lose by attacking Ildoa? Not to mention the resources; I need everything we have to be sent to the east."

Everything required for waging war was running out. The shortages in both soldiers and supplies were chronic at this point.

"Where are you going to find the soldiers we would need to destroy Ildoa, which, need I remind you, is the only conceivable channel for peace negotiations we have? Take into account the current state of the Empire before you speak."

The impending collapse of the Empire couldn't just be conveniently ignored. Zettour was almost embarrassed that he needed to address it directly.

The two needed to assess their almost-certain defeat earnestly; victory was no longer on the table. Their defeat did not, however, have to mean the end. Though the country itself may fall, its mountains and rivers would remain.

Even if the current Reich fell, as long as the Heimat continued to exist, there remained hope for the future. The Heimat was a sacred entity. It was the object of the military's service and loyalty—and they needed to protect it. Surely, Rudersdorf wouldn't throw away the Heimat's future for a single battle…would he?

Perhaps if he were a criminal, then yes, maybe… But as he was a patriot, it should've been impossible for him even to consider.

"…Have you not figured it out yet, Rudersdorf? Why can't you understand?"

Zettour's old friend responded to his conflicted question with a grin. "Be straight with me. It's just you and me here."

These were words he had shared with his friends many times before.

Zettour smiled.

"…Things are different now. I need to act my rank. I understand how fickle it all is, but this is our reality."

"Ranks… Yes, of course. Shall I have my assistant contact yours so we can arrange a meeting? Or would it be better for us to be frank about it?"

Under normal circumstances, it would be unprecedented for a lieutenant general and a general to jest in such a manner. Zettour could only grin and shrug off the joke in an attempt to make his friend dispense with the formalities.

"Well, we both know I've been promoted. We're essentially the same rank at this point."

"I don't want to brag, but you're right. You sure are in the know…"

"I merely tried thinking like a bureaucrat for once. Our promotions are probably nothing more than…an adjustment. Or an attempt to balance out the staff."

Though Rudersdorf was quiet, his expression did all the talking. Zettour knew Rudersdorf agreed with his sentiment. It was evident that he was ashamed of what would be a de facto promotion.

Zettour himself had received a similar, politically fueled promotion-in- name to lieutenant general for simply fulfilling his duty in maintaining the eastern front.

And it was the man sitting before him who had made the necessary arrangements.

Lieutenant General Zettour, the mastermind behind the success on the

eastern front! How absolutely wicked. They may as well call me the ringleader of some clique.

The old man chuckled at himself. He never wished for this. Had Zettour known what the future had in store for him, he never would've aspired to climbing the ranks in the first place.

His youth tricked him into believing that if he could wrench open the doors of the General Staff Headquarters with his own strength, then he would find glory and triumph in the army as a pioneer who would pave the way for the Reich and the Empire.

As he grew older and more jaded, he stubbornly clung to his hope: I just need to win.

He sought victory when he was a brigadier general. It was within his grasp as a major general.

And as a lieutenant general, he continuously yearned for it. His past was so beautiful.

All he could do was sigh when he compared it to his present. There was no glory in becoming a higher-ranking general only to oversee his nation's inevitable demise.

It was a lesson in how cruel fate could be.

"As someone who will soon be receiving a meaningless star on my shoulder, it brings me great joy to see an old friend finally receive theirs."

Zettour wrapped his cutting joke in a nice package of civility before shipping his statement out to his old friend. He, of all people, had the right to make a complaint or two.

"Congratulations on becoming a general, Rudersdorf. I thought I would go down in history as the general who deserved their title the least, but it seems I'll leave that to you."

"It's the war's fault." The firm denial of any personal responsibility was perfectly on-brand for Zettour's old friend. Though parts of him had changed over the course of this trying war, that remained consistent. There was only one thing Zettour had to say in response.

"Yes, of course. It's no one's fault, really. But thanks to everything that's come to pass, it's finally springtime for us war specialists, however unpopular with the Imperial family or politicians we may be."

"Springtime?"

"The spring of black death. What do you say? How about you take a load

off?"

It was undeniable. The two men stood atop a mountain of corpses. They'd spent everything the Empire had. What's more, the Empire had nothing to show for any of it. Any sane officer could only furrow their brow. No, any patriot would find the whole debacle utterly shameful. All the more important to not forget that the tinder fueling the raging flames of this total war was their nation's youth.

They continued to throw on more and more of this precious fuel to keep the flames of war alive. They needed to be aware of what they did as they peppered the continent with the bodies of their children. Why did they make those sacrifices? What was their goal in carrying on? These questions needed to be answered, even if it meant being accused of defeatism.

"Do you wish to keep up this dance of death, rattling our bones like the skeletons we are? Or do you think it's about time we made our preparations to head back to the graveyard?"

Zettour stared into his old friend's eyes from across the plain desk at the command center…and found himself praying that his friend would close his impossibly opened arms.

"You're a general of the Imperial Army now. So what if they call us egotistical? We make the decisions now, do we not?"

It was impossible for Zettour even to pretend he was a good person at this point.

That said, being evil wouldn't stop him from doing what was right for his country. He could fight for the fatherland's future, for the stability of the Heimat. It was, after all, his duty to think of how to bring an end to this war. How he would end it. How it would end.

He needed to think about how to make his nation's final moments as painless as possible. Being the political soldier he was, Zettour was already considering this route. He watched as the man who sat across from him silently blew out a puff of cigar smoke.

The expression he saw was one of fatigue as Rudersdorf patiently waited for his old friend's retort.

"Zettour…I know we're in a tough situation right now. This is a dilemma for the fatherland." The idiot continued with his cigar wedged between his lips and a look of firm resolution.

"But the Reich's Generals can't be the ones who make idle complaints.

You and I are nothing more than cogs in this machine dedicated to victory." "Ah, yes. You and I are the two cogs that proudly display our stars earned

with the deaths of our nation's youth."

"I won't pretend their blood isn't on our hands. But that's the exact reason we can't afford to lose. Our defeat may be inevitable, but there's no reason we should accept it lying down. We are soldiers of the Empire. We need to overturn the inevitable once or twice before considering throwing in the towel."

Damn it all. He's right.

The old man showed a wry grin before shaking his head to forget his despair.

"…Do you mistake our nation for the empire of the dead, Rudersdorf?"

It was fine and good to fight for the Empire's future. Sadly, their reality wasn't kind enough to let them play around with theories. Furthermore, the two of them had the misfortune of being the country's two highest-ranking generals. They were nothing but two incompetent fools running the disastrous show from their desks. With the state of the war, it was imperative they frankly discuss the coming fall of their nation, but they refused to accept defeat.

This was their final stand against reality. The senior staff officers would bend fact and logic if it was convenient. But it was impossible to create something out of nothing.

Doing so would be a miracle beyond even the senior staff's wizardry. To create a miracle that could not be, the race of people known as the general staff officers needed to rouse themselves.

And yet…

"Despite everything, you're still pursuing victory. That's why you want to nip Ildoa in the bud while you still can."

His friend gave a quick nod as if to say precisely, prompting Zettour to give his honest opinion.

"Rudersdorf, Ildoa will remain neutral until we're on the very brink of defeat. They may be a bunch of cunning opportunists…but their raison d'état is much more sensible than ours in that regard. Plan B should focus on taking care of the imbeciles in our own country."

"So you think we should leave Ildoa unattended? You see them too much as a business partner. See them for the thorn in the Empire's side that they

are. You mustn't ignore the geopolitical implications." "You do have a point there…"

He gave a slight nod, but not without adding his own mental addendum.

The collapse he fears so much is inevitable at this point.

That was only cause for even more worry. If this idiot Rudersdorf were to remain fixated on victory, it would only increase the risk involved in carrying out Plan B.

He wished to unify the country's leadership and secure their southern border. While this may have theoretically been the best course of action, it was beyond what they could realistically accomplish.

"This is all a bit pie-in-the-sky, is it not?"

"…It's our duty as senior staff officers to bake a pie we can eat."

Though General Zettour gave another nod of agreement, he simultaneously began to feel this indescribable feeling welling up within him.

There were already vague signs that there may be a leak within a small part of the army.

Whether the source of that leak was a spy or simply an error in their ciphers…if Zettour's instincts were on their mark, then the Empire would have to fight with significant restraints.

Were the General Staff to impose a policy of victory-over-all, then more traditional methods may not be so effective in finding a path of survival.

God. Oh, God.

You're a rat bastard, you are. Return my prayers.

Return my hope.

You've given us a destiny completely lacking in mercy. You're toying with us.

Are you going to destroy our nation with some sort of divine intervention?

…So be it.

If that's how this must end.

He smiled.

We'll accept our fate.

He'd already dedicated his life to the Heimat. Why not become the bastard it needed him to be?

Forgive me, my friend.

"Now, we're getting off topic. You came here to discuss Plan B. You

even brought my most valued apprentice… Let's get down to brass tacks."

Zettour shot a glance at Rudersdorf. He seemed relieved. He wasn't a bad person…

"I'd like to include her in the discussion. Do you mind?" "Not at all."

"Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, show yourself in!"

General Rudersdorf's booming voice makes its way all the way to the waiting room. His voice carries like none other, but the issue here isn't how it carries, but what it carries. Whenever he calls for me, it usually means trouble.

I suppose there's no point in trying to escape from reality…

The brief flash of annoyance on my face goes away on pure reflex.

People are social animals. We're used to wearing many different masks. I don a serious expression before trotting my way to Rudersdorf's office like the good little soldier I am.

One must answer a superior officer's beckoning with great haste, after all. There's nothing to be gained from making a superior wait, and it could even cost you. With a quick but controlled knock on his door, I receive the impatient invitation to the meeting I was expecting. All right, take a deep breath. Once the door is open, I'll give a brisk greeting at the appropriate volume.

"Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, reporting for duty!"

Now, as I give the salute that has engrained itself into my muscle memory, I will perform a brief reconnaissance of the room.

Yes…it appears things can only get much, much worse. The tension in the room is palpable. It's more than that. I expected it to be bad when I opened the door…but this is beyond anything I could've ever imagined.

I can't shake the instinctual feeling of how terrible things are. My nerves won't calm down. It's almost as if I'm about to be ambushed by the enemy.

I want to do nothing more than turn around and hightail it out of the General Staff Office. But that's not an option for Tanya…so with even more energy than before, I address my superiors.

"May I inquire the purpose I've been called here today?"

As I ask this question, the first thing I must confirm is the expressions of my two superiors. Unfortunately, this is no small feat, as these two men are monsters… They both seem their usual selves at a glance. The ashtrays on Rudersdorf's desk, however, tell a different story.

General Rudersdorf is smoking cigars, like he always does. The state of affairs of General Zettour's ashtray, however, is not so ideal. Judging a superior's mood by how much they've been smoking may seem a bit simpleminded…but the amount of cheap military cigarette butts currently stuffed into his ashtray makes his frustration obvious. He isn't even smoking cigars.

I feel a shiver run down my spine, which only makes me straighten my posture more.

Though General Zettour is smiling, it would be prudent to assume he's practically brimming with rage right now. Well, maybe rage is a strong word. After all, he hasn't knocked the ashtray off the table yet, and there's still a uniformness to the way he's cramming them in there. It may be more of a composed anger.

Either way, he is not happy. And that's putting it lightly. And if General Rudersdorf is knowingly ignoring this fact despite their long relationship… well, that's also somewhat alarming.

The most foolish thing a subordinate can do when their superior is displeased is ask why. Standing stiffly and formally at attention, I keep my mouth shut until General Zettour calmly addresses me first.

"How is your battalion, Colonel?"

"We'll be combat-ready soon, sir. Though…according to Captain Ahrens's report, our unit strength has been cut in half due to the delivery of new tanks."

Unexpectedly, General Rudersdorf is the one who responds to my answer. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and asks with a bewildered look about him:

"Cut in half?"

"We've come into possession of a great many tanks riddled with defects. Without confidence in our mobility, the Salamanders cannot conduct our usual maneuver warfare."

"…Are they really in such poor condition?"

I can hear the confusion in his voice, unable to picture what I mean. The

disconnect with reality is evident in his question. I suppose General Rudersdorf, in his noble position as the Deputy Director of the General Staff Office, doesn't understand the true state of the eastern front.

New models always come with problematic new systems. Not only that, but it's far too early for the tanks on the eastern front to undergo a dinosaur- like evolution.

"Come now, Rudersdorf. Perhaps you've been away from the war front for too long now?"

"What?"

This blossoming conversation between two generals ends on that note. For General Zettour remains silent with nothing but a grin on his face, leaving the unavoidable task of explaining his comment to Tanya. If fate is inescapable, then it must be embraced. I'll have to choose my words carefully and try to sound like a specialist.

"The new vehicles sport thicker armor and a higher-caliber armament, undoubtedly making for a more powerful vehicle. But…the more features that get rolled into the tanks, the less reliable they become. They are also several tons heavier now, which can't be avoided when making them bigger. We can only do so much to decrease their weight."

Furthermore, there is no guarantee these colossal heaps of metal we call tanks will be able to traverse the wilderness between the Federation and us. Of course, there's no need to articulate this given my current company. General Rudersdorf huffs in cigar smoke with a groan before showing a dim expression.

"I must admit, my experience made me a bit biased. Colonel… considering your ample experience in the east, what do you think can be done about the new tanks?"

"I believe our chances would improve if it were autumn. Though the snowfall could pose a problem…we would at least be able to achieve some mobility compared to the muddy ground we're currently dealing with." That said, Captain Ahrens has already aptly lamented about the truth in his report. Tanya's job is to make sure his warning is fully understood. "Fundamentally speaking, the problem lies within the weight and maneuverability of the tanks. The improved firepower comes at the cost of their mobility. The time of year has never affected our tanks this much before."

"So they sink in the mud. I'll remember that."

The old strategist gives a somber nod, and my boss is wearing a large grin. This is an interaction I've seen time and time again, and it always leads to more problems for Tanya.

"Now that lesson time for the Deputy Director of the General Staff is over, Colonel… Let's bring this meeting back on track."

And here I was hoping we could keep this discussion off said tracks… I quickly stifle these feelings of anguish. With as stern a stare as I can muster, I look General Zettour square in the eyes. Ah, crap.

"I would like to ask you about your capability to fight." "Yes, sir! Ask me anything."

It's quite frightening, really. Listen to how friendly General Zettour's tone of voice is. His eyes are smiling, his cheeks are bunched up by that affable grin, and his shoulders are relaxed. Not to mention how composed he seems! This is terrifying. Like seeing a tiger that's cornered its prey.

"Are the new tanks the only issue?"

Speak your mind, he casually prods me with his smooth tone. His facade of a benevolent superior willing to listen to their subordinate almost brings my guard down, but I can't allow myself to be fooled just yet. All it takes is one look in his eyes. He may be smiling at me, but I can tell from his eyes that he's stone-faced on the inside.

His cool, calm, and collected demeanor is nothing more than a camouflage he hides behind as he observes me. Under his stare, not unlike the gaze of a scientist observing a lab rat, I can't help but wonder whether I'll be able to answer him with a smile. This will probably be exceedingly challenging. Even Tanya, who has worked with the general for quite some time now, can't expect to avoid an instant of hesitation before responding. But that single moment is already too long, and there's no choice but to act like the trained pet she has become.

"Perhaps I should address the lack of artillery shells in our stock. Or the lack of horses used to deliver said artillery shells? I should probably also take this opportunity to protest the use of my aerial mages for detached missions."

"Anything else?"

"I have grievances with how slow the air fleet is being deployed. The aerial support we've been promised on several occasions always seems to be out of commission, forcing my Kampfgruppe to defend themselves. How do you feel about the fact that I could've had a new Kampfgruppe ready for

deployment with just the reinforcements promised to me alone?" "That's enough. So it's business as usual."

I swallow a groan and offer a small nod at the nonchalant summation when a surprised listener cuts in.

"Wait, are these not all significant problems?"

It's rare to see General Rudersdorf with such a look of confusion about him. More importantly, the fact that an assessment of front-line conditions is what triggered this reaction is more than enough to send chills down Tanya's spine.

"On the eastern front, this is what we call ideal." "Even with all those problems?"

"Yes."

General Zettour is as pleasant as can be in the face of a speechless deputy director as he continues.

"Reliable commanding officers and reliable veterans. That's what makes the Salamander Kampfgruppe so desirable. It's difficult to resist the desire to use them in other operations. They're in a class of their own, which is why they have the special privilege of not being broken up to scrounge more leaders for other units."

You understand, right? my superior asks with a look, and I can only silently nod back.

The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion is powerful, and there are no plans to break them apart. This is in spite of the fact that they hold a relatively large amount of the Empire's veteran mages. It truly is special treatment in its own right.

Then again…this poses its own problems for Tanya.

"Rudersdorf, this is the true state of the stability on the eastern front you take for granted. Understand that we are barely managing to scrape by as is."

"You'll figure something out. You always do."

"I can give you my honest word that tricks will not keep us in the game for much longer. We are merely hanging on by the skin of our necks here."

This exchange between my superiors tells the story of the extreme discrepancy in understanding what's happening on the Empire's war front. It would've been an honor to be here spectating this if I were a historian. However, it's worth noting that it would only be enjoyed in the afterlife even then.

When things don't go as intended, a superior may shift some of their burdens onto their subordinates. This is a disaster for the worker when even a single superior does so, but Tanya is currently watching both of her bosses scowl as they chain-smoke! Needless to say, there is nowhere for me to escape. All I can do is stand at attention while I bask in the secondhand smoke and wait for my superiors to speak next.

Oh, how wonderful it would be if they'd let me leave right now. Unfortunately, these two fog machines have a habit of crushing Tanya's hopes and dreams. With a pensive furrowed brow, General Rudersdorf is the first to finally break the silence.

"Why don't we lay out everything on the table and openly discuss Plan B."

"Fine idea, General Rudersdorf. We're two friends. Let's be frank with each other."

This is it. I need to interject right now. It may be my only chance, but maybe if I'm lucky, there is the tiniest inkling of hope for me yet.

I need to be both modest and sincere with my tone. If this works, they may just let Tanya out of here.

"Is it all right for me to be here?"

No, this is above your rank, Lieutenant Colonel. Is it too much to ask for a little compassion in the form of a dismissive phrase?

Aaand he's smiling. The ringleader of the General Staff is smiling in a way that almost proves this world's God has abandoned it.

You needn't worry about that. General Zettour's grin silently affirms my greatest fear. Then I feel General Rudersdorf offer me a firm pat on the back. He's grinning from ear to ear as he mercilessly informs me of my fate.

"It's the opposite, Colonel. You're the General Staff Office's shining star.

Your battalion will be at the center of the operation."

What a funny idea. So amusing, in fact, that the self-preservationist in me almost wants to scream.

The center of Plan B? …Damn it all to hell.

"…Perhaps I should express that it would be my honor to be in such a position."

There is so much I want to say as the person being corralled into this mess. But considering my rank, I am limited to vague terms to express my discontent.

I shouldn't have to mention that I'm currently racking my brain for an excuse to leave.

Anything would work; there must be something. I'm prepared to use any excuse in the book so long as it will allow me to avoid signing my death sentence here and now. This is the plank of Carneades. Hell, I'll pledge my allegiance to the Communists if it comes to that, at least on the surface.

But alas, there is nothing. I suppose this is just how the world works. "Colonel, you seem quiet. Are you not excited? I plan on assigning you

the most honorable of duties."

General Rudersdorf glares right at me. I find myself so perplexed by his question that I can't even decide how I should answer. From a self- preservationist standpoint, the answer is a hard no. Ugh, I have a bad feeling about all this. But being the political animal Tanya is, it is nigh impossible for her to escape this. I know full well that to even attempt it would be suicidal both socially and administratively.

This is a real conundrum. I feel an irresistible urge to curse the universe. I know that the embodiment of evil, Being X, must be behind all of this.

And as always, it falls on the shoulders of us humans to fix the shitstorms the so-called gods concoct. It would be Tanya's most trusted and reliable superior, General Zettour, who would take up the burden this time.

"Come now, Rudersdorf. What, are we forcing our subordinates to give the answers we desire now? Don't tell me you've sunken so low as to try and fish for compliments from the troops."

Heavy support artillery comes crashing down from my flank. As much as I appreciate the support, it seems General Rudersdorf isn't going to budge on this one.

"Pipe down, Zettour. This is a question the girl needs to answer."

Except I really don't want to. I don't want to be involved in this at all. My only wish is that you wouldn't try to bring me into this in the first place!

"I understand how difficult this must be for someone who has sworn loyalty to their nation, and while you may need some time to sort out your feelings, there'll be problems if you can't reply."

What an absolutely terrifying statement. This man is on a mission to make me answer his heartless question!

His eyes are homed in on me. I can see the unwavering determination. Shit, shit. Those are the eyes of a man who knows he's in the right. He's

exactly like that Being X, whom I so very loathe!

"It's fine. A level of indecision can be tolerated. But know this is what must be done."

Rudersdorf says he can accept this, but his eyes tell me he needs me to comply… I hold myself back from letting him know just how screwed I'll be if I follow his orders.

Agh, how stressful it is to be unable to say what you truly wish to! "General, is this question of necessity?"

We are but slaves to necessity, or perhaps devout members of its religion. In the social group known as the Imperial Army, the senior staff officer is, without exception, a class of person who sees being restricted to logic and duty as a good thing.

I give an ever-so-slight glance to General Zettour in an attempt to seek his aid, but General Rudersdorf attacks first with his own passionate spiel.

"Necessity is the determining factor that compels my assignments. I'm willing to hear your opinion on the matter, but it should be self-evident that at this stage in the game, carrying out your duty without fuss is all the Reich needs from you!"

His remark clarifies that he isn't likely going to accept a rebuttal. At this rate, silence is my only option. Of course, that isn't a real choice to begin with. Should I challenge him on this? Or should I perhaps make a beeline to the military police? But what if the MPs are already under the influence of the General Staff?

The vortex of conflicting interest Tanya has found herself at the center of is harrowing. But then a glimmer of hope appears.

"Truthfully, this is more of a question of what may be necessary." "What are you getting at?"

Caught off guard by the remark, General Rudersdorf looks to his side to find General Zettour as stone-faced as can be. With a wave of his hand, he calms General Rudersdorf down. I couldn't ask for a more reliable ally!

"Tell me, Colonel Degurechaff. Could you order your battalion to ruthlessly take control over the imperial capital should the need arise? Even if it meant, for instance, having to eliminate any friendlies who resist?"

Correction!

I was wrong!

And with that, my only bead of hope shot straight through my heart and

down to hell.

To be honest, I'm having a tough time figuring out whether or not he intended to help me with this question. You see, I'm fairly certain we could do it. In fact, I think it's basically guaranteed. General Zettour probably doesn't know this…but I'm quite proud of how much I've come to know my subordinates in our long time spent together. My soldiers follow their orders, no matter what. I should add that they are also bloodthirsty war hounds who aren't picky when it comes to an opponent. An attribute I feel is virtuous in times of war.

I tell them who we need dead and they loyally follow my every order! I wouldn't put it past them to start plugging in the coordinates to the Imperial palace while I give the briefing! What incredible discipline! What unparalleled obedience! But who in their right mind would ever create such monstrosities?! Oh, right, me! Damn it!

"They're your soldiers. Give us your honest opinion."

General Zettour kindly puts the ball in my court, but what should I do with it? Should I tell him the honest truth like a simpleton? I can't allow myself to do this. The thinnest of lifelines has presented itself. This might be the only way for me to escape this discussion that is well beyond my rank and pay grade. There's no way I'll let this chance pass me by.

"Please excuse me…could I take some time to think about my answer?"

I look up at the two and find they have contrasting expressions: General Rudersdorf is clearly displeased and General Zettour is extremely satisfied.

It's safe to assume the former wants me ready to kill. But what about the latter…? Is it safe for me to believe in his supposed reluctance? Or is this some sort of loyalty test?

"Colonel, I wouldn't put it past this imbecile to try and pressure you into giving a hasty answer…but feel free to ignore him."

"He may be saying that in jest, but he's right. I want to hear your honest opinion as a strategist and commanding officer without delay."

Behind the veil of sincere silence, Tanya is cursing up a storm. On the inside, she might as well be foaming at the mouth with irritation. Can somebody point me in the direction of the nearest dump? There is a boatload of complaints I wish to dispose of!

"I would appreciate it if you didn't bully me so much."

Talk about power harassment. Seeing as I want to change my job anyway,

I would run for the Labor Standards Inspection Office if I could. Sadly, the Reich's bar for labor laws is nonexistent, especially regarding its military.

Oh, labor standards. Labor standards! How I long for you so! We yearn for you on the front lines of this alternate world!

The libertarian in me is utterly humiliated by these feelings, but nonetheless, I must face the brutal reality I find myself in. I take a deep breath and reorient myself. This is a monumental decision that must be made. My troops may be the enforcers of a coup d'état. While being kept entirely in the dark about their plan is an issue in its own right…being placed at the center of it is far worse.

"I agree that it is our obligation to fulfill our duty. But I worry about the mental state of my soldiers. We need to consider their viewpoints and internalized moral standards on an individual basis."

As I express these sufficiently legitimate concerns, I think with all my might.

Were I in Modu Chanyu's position, I would take pride in personally shooting my father down with my own bow and arrow. But this isn't Mongolia, nor is it the second century. The saddening fact of the matter is that despite the raging war, these are modern times. It's safe to say that cultural and legal standards hold far more value than they did in the Mongolian plains. The last thing I want to do is set myself on a collision course with these values.

Conducting a violent revolt would end with me being painted as the villain. This would send any prospects for a job change to the bottom of the sea. I can do only one thing to avoid this all too predictable future. I must fool them.

"I'm sorry to say that it may be difficult."

I'm not declaring it can't be done, but they also can't interpret my statement in a way that suggests it can be. This predicament is made even more apparent by the troubled tone of my voice. I'm sure I sound utterly distraught, even from the perspective of onlookers.

And yet, General Rudersdorf responds with an unexpected look. He crosses his arms and searches for the right thing to say…before showing his understanding.

"That's fair. We'll figure something out down the line."

He's delaying the decision. Or, more aptly, he's simply being indecisive.

Either way, it seems I've managed to maneuver my boat through the skerries threatening to beach me. For now. More time is what I need to prepare for my next evasive maneuver, and any amount helps. What I could use right now is an excuse, be it a long-term assignment or deployment to the front lines— anything will do—to distance myself from General Rudersdorf.

Anything can happen during a war. Expect the unexpected, right?

Speaking of unexpected, General Rudersdorf looks like he's about to casually toss a bomb into Tanya's hands.

"Here's an idea. Would you like to be promoted?"

I stiffen up and blink blankly. A promotion? Everyone wants to be promoted, and I'm no exception. It's human nature to desire advancement. A completely and utterly natural thing to pursue. That is, if we're in normal circumstances.

"I don't quite like the sound of that."

I can only chuckle bitterly to myself at the obvious bait. Times of crisis can spur changes in core values. And what a dramatic change this is for Tanya. It's identical to how violent fluctuations in market value can affect the price of goods. A promotion in times of peace is something to strive for, but safety takes precedent over prestige in times of crisis. I mustn't mistake what holds true value.

"You almost had me there."

The HR department doesn't hint at dramatic personnel changes without a proper motive. And yet! I can't deny the temptation of moving up in the ranks! There is an undeniable allure to gaining a higher position, especially before attempting to change your job.

This offer, however, is a carrot that General Rudersdorf is dangling in front of his would-be pawns. There is no scenario where this carrot isn't laced with rat poison.

"So you are interested in pursuing a high rank?"

He's enjoying this. I keep up my serious expression while I genuinely lament having to deny his offer.

"I appreciate your generous evaluation from the bottom of my heart. But I am an officer with responsibilities. I have an obligation to my soldiers as their officer, and I can't allow myself to leave them."

After all, if I bite your carrot, you're going to make me do something highly illegal. What General Rudersdorf sees is a patriotic, passionate officer

who cares about her soldiers, a facade Tanya must keep up despite how jarring it feels to reject an open offer for career advancement.

"I know how much you love fighting alongside them on the front lines… but being pushed up through the ranks by the Personnel Division is another one of your obligations as an officer. Lieutenant Colonel, do you have any interest in commanding your own regiment?"

"What? You want me to head my own…regiment?"

"Even ignoring the fact that this is a time of war, you've accumulated far too many accolades. The more medals you accrue, the more difficult it has become to use you for various operations. There is an increasingly loud voice demanding we bring you back to a legitimate career path."

A legitimate career path. That sure sounds delightful. Even with my iron will to change jobs, there is a part of me that finds it somewhat difficult to resist such an attractive offer. I feel my throat drying up. Is this offer a part of his plan to keep me in the General Staff Office? The offer is far too attractive, but the Empire's ship will be underwater before long… Then again, a ship is still a ship until it sinks…

"You're suggesting I take a position similar to Colonel Lergen's, correct?"

"That man is far too mainstream, so it would be slightly different…but yes, along those lines."

In short, my criteria essentially match those of the gentlemen who have experience as field commanders in name only. It's an incredible offer. Being a member of the General Staff, it's technically possible for Tanya to follow the same career path as Colonel Lergen.

Though, it's hard to ignore the unique path I've had to go through. I haven't gone through the same primary school–military academy–first regiment–war college pipeline to get into the General Staff Office. Hell, I didn't even go to preschool in this life. Although I have experience as a soldier for a company when you include my time as a mage officer, my career path is very different from that of any other officer you'll find in the army. This is why there has been a delay in my progression through the ranks. I also can't shake the feeling that there is a bit of discrimination afoot.

If there is such a factor in play, it must be due to my lack of a formal education. How humbling. There is logic in applying filters across the board for things like this. I'll happily recognize this as an ex-HR representative.

Simultaneously, the danger of using a filter is the possibility of removing people with skill and experience. I find that filters are counterproductive in the hiring process when misused. All that being said…it seems a job change is the only way out for me.

In terms of contracts, advancing too high in the ranks and receiving training at a higher level can make it difficult to change jobs later on. An employee who uses their previous company's funds to get their master's in business at a top university only to transfer out once they've finished will undoubtedly have difficulty finding a new job. If this case is similar, then I should remain sincere.

After making a series of considerations in her head, Tanya ekes out her answer.

"I'll have to pass."

Had this offer come a few years earlier, I'd be chomping at the bit.

But it is too late for me, in both a systematic and age-related sense. Everything comes down to the fact that Being X had me born into this world a mere nine years before the war started. This is why I hate that self- proclaimed god.

"Darn it, she rejected me."

While General Rudersdorf lets out a defeated sigh, General Zettour has an almost-jubilant smile on his face.

"What's wrong? Can't handle a little rejection?"

He holds his soldier's tobacco in one hand and raises a brow in surprise. General Rudersdorf responds with a wry smile as he begins to hoist himself out of his chair. He then shoots a regretful glance at the clock on the wall before letting his shoulders fall.

"Well, I must begin preparations for my next meeting."

"With the officials from the Council for Self-Government? Here's some advice… Whatever you do, don't make any empty promises to them. At the same time, don't paint a picture of doom and gloom."

General Zettour says this with a knowing look, to which General Rudersdorf responds with a somber expression.

"Are you that concerned about it? You can come with me and oversee the meeting if you wish."

"We'd be too perfect a target if we showed up together. A Federation agent wouldn't be able to restrain themselves from throwing a bomb at us."

"Have they infiltrated us to that extent?" All three of us sigh in unison.

A feeling of anxiety fills the room before the master of the eastern front shares a warning with a grave expression.

"There's no proof that they haven't, and I believe it's already happened… Unless you or Colonel Degurechaff have any evidence to the contrary?"

"…I do not. I'll keep that in mind."

"One more thing. Appearances are important, so I arranged for a new guard to escort you." General Zettour sighs as he grumbles to himself. "You see, I don't want to draw attention to the fact that we have children serving as military officers, for diplomatic reasons. We need to act like the powerful country we are, so I assigned you a new cadre of elite soldiers who look the part to protect you."

"Ah, yes, assigning your men to take me to and from the meeting while you sit back and relax, I see."

With an uncomfortably stern expression to the point of seeming exaggerated, the person in charge of the eastern front was as serious as could be.

"Don't be like that. Watch your surroundings. The guards are there for your protection."

"…I understand. I'll accept your guards. They're probably less annoying than the last group."

My boss lets out a sigh, presumably at his counterpart's stubbornness. With his fingers pressed to his temples, he laments to Tanya in a way that makes his exhaustion obvious.

"Can you believe this man? He never will change. I can only imagine your enthusiasm when you have to accompany him as a bodyguard."

"One of my soldiers, First Lieutenant Grantz, comes to mind. I only wish he was here to hear you say that. I'm sure your kind words would have him choking back tears."

I shoot the deputy director a glance and catch him feigning ignorance. "Ah yes, he was one of the soldiers you lent me as a guard. He's

commanding the company, I believe. How is he?"

"I imagine that at this very moment, he's already fallen victim to the Empire's beer."

The two of us share a good laugh.

As I watch General Rudersdorf gather his things and hurry out of the room to meet the officials from the Council for Self-Government, I am overcome with relief at having successfully survived this meeting.

The talks will likely lack any real substance. They just want the impression of the army cooperating with the committee—something utterly unnecessary in these desperate times. This man is running the General Staff Office. Every second he has is a precious resource.

After we watch him quickly leave the office, General Zettour gives a wry laugh.

"He's always in a hurry, that Rudersdorf."

I feel the same way. I wanted to properly thank General Zettour for making the arrangements for a new convoy. It was what Tanya and her men were sent here to do.

"Thanks to your kindness, my subordinates and I will finally have some time to rest."

"Well, you make sure to get the rest you need. It will be a long trip back." It was the perfect way to repay my troops and me. This man is a good boss. Though, I would soon find myself regretting not picking up on the early signs he is showing now. You see, when it comes to working every last human being you can find to the bone, General Zettour and General Rudersdorf are the same creature. No, putting them in the same league almost feels silly considering how much this man puts me through the wringer. My boss's simple act of kindness shouldn't have warranted an emotional

reaction.

"Ah, I almost forgot. Colonel, there's something I need you to do." "Anything for you, sir."

This is no time to be excited about some time off. But nothing could possibly be more enticing than the word vacation at that very moment. To think, while I'm still basking in the glory of having managed to finagle my way out of General Rudersdorf's troublesome proposition—

"Oh, it's nothing too serious. I just may need you to assassinate a close friend of mine in the near future. You only need to bear this in mind for now."

—now I have to navigate this. "Understoo… Huh?"

I cut myself off mid-nod and look at my boss in shock. He just warned his

friend to be wary of his surroundings, and now he's humming the tune of his death. I was under the impression that I have impeccable hearing, but I may have to get my ears rechecked.

"Sir?"

Yes? He looks back at me with an expression of utmost sobriety. This is the moment I realize what kind of a monster I'm working for.

Part of me still wants to doubt my hearing…but this is far too important to let slide. I need to make sure I'm not mistaken.

"Could you repeat that for me, sir? I think I may have misheard your orders."

"I want you to paint the wall with the contents of my close friend's cranium. Is that less confusing for you?"

He says this as smoothly as can be. There's literally no way to misinterpret his words. He's treating it like it's nothing.

Does he want me to murder General Rudersdorf? "I request to know your intentions."

"Oh, are you interested in the reason?"

"I can't murder somebody without reason. I'm a soldier. An officer who knows both honor and duty."

Playing the part of a serious commanding officer has its benefits. It all depends on how you use it. I put a little space between myself and General Zettour. Should he close this gap and meet me halfway, it would allow me to be franker with him. And I won't have to wait long for that to happen.

"You see…that man is a strategist through and through."

There is a sadness to the chuckle General Zettour gives as he begins to share with Tanya how he truly feels.

"When plan A fails, he has a plan B ready. If that plan proves unsuccessful, then he'll have a third plan on the back burner. He only has victory in his sights. That is how he operates."

That's the soldier in him; it's his nature. Those who have been on the front lines long enough realize that this very nature is a double-edged sword for most who wield it.

"…Making swift and decisive choices with firm resolution is what strategists do. Their entire being is fixated on unconditionally forging a path to victory."

The empire has never experienced defeat before. Our nation thoroughly

believes that fate is on its side due to it being an emerging superpower. This sentiment remains true for our war effort as well.

How can we win? That is the only question for a strategist. The majority of the Empire's population can't even ask the question Do you think we'll win? And for the few of us who can, this is precisely the reason for our unhappiness.

With a lonely look about him, General Zettour laughs to himself.

"Since the dawn of our nation, the Imperial Army always found a way to win in the end. Adverse circumstances are something we've overcome many times in our history. We bide our time with defensive actions, then attack when the time is right to claim victory."

I can hear both love and hate in his tone for the lost legend of which he speaks.

"Our inability to win this war is without historical precedence. To think it's something our generation must face…is all but outrageous."

"General Rudersdorf doesn't seem willing to accept this change in history."

"He most likely won't. For he is an excellent strategist. And sadly for him, he is a strategist who knows no defeat. Therefore, even if he can perceive his defeat, he would never actually process it."

General Zettour groans as he speaks, a sign of the hopelessness he feels when he thinks of his long-time friend.

"That idiot. He just may decide on his own to execute the Plan B we created for the worst-case scenario simply on the premise that there are no other options." He cradles his head in his hands as he continues. "Not only does he seek to carry out a military coup, but he wants to invade Ildoa immediately afterward? All in the name of victory? All that does is delay our nation's suicide. He wants to start a new war to continue the current war. War is a means to settle a conflict. It can't be the goal."

"Is this where you two disagree, sir?"

The answer to this is, of course, yes. He doesn't have to say anything; his demeanor says it all. An exhausted General Zettour nods before shaking his head in annoyance.

"I'm a weak man. I can only support a Plan B that plays into a clean defeat for our nation." His lips curl with a moment's hesitation before continuing. "General Rudersdorf is different. He's a loyal strategist to the

great Empire. The only plan he will try to come up with is one that prevents our nation's defeat. If the times were different, I would likely hang for my defeatism."

"Have you considered shifting your thought process to seek out victory?" My superior gives a lonely chuckle that makes it obvious he has.

"In terms of strategy, I've given it deep thought. Depending on the circumstances, it wouldn't be impossible to eke out a win of some sort in the end. But, operationally speaking… It simply can't be done… The results are clear as day."

With a scratchy voice, he chides:

"…I can't allow our ancestor's legacy to end with a misconceived mass suicide."

What he says is right, but his wording is far too indirect.

I need to make him say it in more explicit terms. Just in case I have to testify in a court of law at some point down the line.

"Sir, I am a soldier."

Essentially, I fear for the future if I act without clear orders and a very solid explanation for said orders. I stare straight into his eyes, and in the most earnest tone I can muster, I ask him what a soldier needs to ask.

"As a soldier, I need to understand your true intentions."

"Lieutenant Colonel, I am a good person, but an evil member of this organization. I'm obligated to prepare for our collapse."

Ah, there's that term again. Obligated. What a convenient concept.

Although, it is as ruthless as it is convenient.

"If Colonel Lergen manages to plot a course for reconciliation, then it would solve all of our problems. But the buck stops with me to come up with the plan in case he fails."

The self-sacrificial nature of his sense of duty is incomprehensible. That said, his interest doesn't conflict with mine. If there were a financial receiver who could accurately assess the current situation, it'd help significantly mitigate the shock of the declining Reich's eventual bankruptcy. As a stakeholder, I would be in the right to side with General Zettour. Nevertheless, even if I can explain my case to the jurors, I still won't have enough to convince them. I need a bit more.

-x-X-x-

[Image]

-x-X-x-

"I understand if a patriot like yourself chooses to gun down the defeatist before you, Colonel. You've always been a realist who considers avoiding defeat a victory."

What do you say?

General Zettour tempts me with a smile.

"So, are you going to shoot me? Personally, I think it would be more logical to shoot my friend."

"And that's why you want to remove him?"

"Yes. We need to do it so this war can end. For peace. I'll take responsibility should the need arise. I just need your help."

That's basically the perfect answer. I give him a B+. This should meet the bare minimum of what I need. I answer him with a slight grin, which General Zettour follows with a gentle nod.

"Then I will leave it to you to take care of my dear old friend."

"The deed will be done as soon as you give the order. But there is one more thing I must ask."

I want to learn everything I can in this moment. I want to know what his plan is, who will be doing what, and what I need to do. If I can't quit this game, I at least need to learn its rules.

"What is your plan?"

"Don't play the fool, Colonel. Well, I can see why you would want me to declare my plans. I'd be happy to oblige so listen closely. If we're going to resort to a contingency plan, the Reich needs to be ready to close up shop. I'm prepared to lay out everything on the table in order to make this possible."

Where most people aim for a V-shaped recovery, General Zettour wants to calmly settle any outstanding debts. He even has a closing sale in mind. I'm suddenly quite captivated by his plan; I want to hear more. This is starting to get interesting. General Zettour stares attentively at me as he silently takes a puff of his cigarette before abruptly standing up. He then walks over to the window and, without saying a word, begins to stare off into the sky.

I've never seen his back look so small before.

I wonder if even the great General Zettour is tormented by helplessness.

With his back turned to me, he continues to speak.

"There isn't much we can do. I simply want to make our emergency

landing as soft as possible."

He seems so fragile. Or perhaps those words offer insight in their own way. I can't tell what the general is feeling in this moment. He stares up at the ceiling and puffs out cigarette smoke with a sigh.

"What we need is more time. Then we should be able to stick our landing. In that sense, that numbskull Rudersdorf and I may be seeing the same dream. Only the endings are different."

People tend to want to carry on as normal, even if they struggle to scrape by. The natural desire to maintain the status quo can be quite frightening. But there's hope yet, as the rational individual known as Zettour appears resolute in his desire to reject this implicit bias.

"However, I am a senior staff officer. Whether I like it or not, my whole being is telling me…Plan B needs to put an end to this all."

With the way things are going, this means settling for defeat. It appears that with respectable intelligence, anyone can pick up on the fact that the Empire is a lost cause. Anyone with logical reasoning should be able to make this rational prediction. What is surprising for me is that there is only one gentleman in the Imperial Army willing to openly discuss our impending defeat.

Leaders with unique perspectives are in the position to greatly divert history from a potentially ruinous path. The problem is, when they come forward with their big plan, this is usually what you get:

"I've looked into the current plan and, unfortunately, it is the same strategist drivel filled with hopes and dreams of victory."

"You don't have an issue with a single source of command, do you?" "Not at all. But it's his plan itself I can't agree with. Forcing the military

into control of the nation before our final moments will only make our downfall more dramatic. We need to make the arrangements necessary to end the war."

It is a complex situation, and General Zettour has likely been run ragged coordinating the private sector, the government, and the military. I sigh deeply, as if the anguish drawing from my resignation to accept my fate has taken shape in my mind.

"Whatever the case may be, we will not be able to avoid disarray… If we make a mistake, it's only natural for the enemy to take advantage of it. To ensure these negotiations happen, we need to strive for peace."

General Zettour offers this painful conclusion as if he were a mathematician solving an equation.

"Given what we must do, my great and powerful friend Rudersdorf will become a nuisance. We need him out of the way. Killing him…is our only option."

My inner businessperson feels an undeniable revulsion to my superior's ruthless intent. The word tolerance has long since been removed from Tanya's dictionary. And when people are tired, sometimes their inner selves come out. An undeniable sense of rage is what drives my next remark.

"What a foolish notion." "What?"

"You seek to kill him because he is a nuisance? How absurd."

It is utter nonsense. So we're just going to kill the man? That's entirely out of the question—an irrational argument not worth a moment's discussion. "A necessary sacrifice. I'll take responsibility for what follows. Are you

one to hold tools of death in contempt?"

He misunderstands me here. I wonder if all the stress is why General Zettour is suddenly willing to justify such an outlandish thought? Though not without concern for what's to come, I attempt to correct his way of thinking.

"You say you wish to simply kill the man. But you can't be serious." "I meant every word."

"It is an absurd idea. If those are your orders, then I am obligated to shoot you here and now to defend my dignity."

Considering the circumstances, I can't afford to be on the wrong side. Even if General Zettour is willing to accept the fall of the Empire, I can't accompany him if he proceeds in a way that can't be realized.

"…Are you seriously against killing an ally this late in the game?"

The color drains from his face as he ekes out his question, which only adds to my utter disappointment. He's making a colossal misunderstanding.

"My apologies, but that isn't quite what I mean. I simple wish to suggest that your way of thinking is completely off the mark."

"What do you mean? What are you trying to say?"

"Again, I apologize for my insolence. But, sir, do you…really need me to spell it out for you?"

I study my superior, who only shakes his head before me. "…I'm not sure what you're getting at."

I'm almost astonished. I'm not against killing people. I'm simply denying the efficacy of assassination in these specific circumstances. Why is he so surprised by my reaction?

"It's a waste of a good human resource. Sir, we are not in a place where we can afford to lose our higher-ups so easily, never mind throwing them away."

"We're removing a cancer from our organization. It will not be painless…"

"That's just it, sir. Pain is a necessary part of the process. What I'm trying to articulate, though, is an issue with how you are approaching this."

This is tactics 101! Even the best laid goals can't be achieved if the strategic approach is completely misguided! I'm curious as to why today of all days I can't get through to him.

I'm not going to pretend that I'm the perfect communicator. I'm proud to say that I'm humble in this regard despite being a specialist. Naturally, I excel when it comes to things like being attentive or clear with my wording or picking up on unvoiced intentions…but I'm not perfect.

And I also understand that sometimes there are misunderstandings. But on the battlefield, a misunderstanding can kill you as sure as any bullet. Taking into account my experience on the battlefield, I know that I can communicate more efficiently than most.

On top of that, we both know how the General Staff conducts business.

We share the same values. General Zettour and I speak the same language.

It's strange we would ever talk past each other in the first place. It's practically a miracle.

The stress must be to blame. I bet it's influencing our ability to process information. That just means I'll need to be direct with him, which is fine.

I reconstruct my logic before laying it out for him.

"Humans need to be killed efficiently, but their lives should not be wasted."

I believe this from the bottom of my heart. This is a hill that I'm willing to die on. The waste of good human capital is a cardinal sin. It is nothing less than our duty to carefully develop and properly use that precious capital. And there isn't a single soul who appreciates waste.

"If we must kill a general, the Reich needs to ensure a return on all the investment that went into that man. We aren't, or at least, I'm definitely not

someone who advocates for murdering staff on a whim." "Then what do you advocate for?"

"I advocate for peace."

I declare this sincerely and solemnly. As an individual forced to participate in a war dominated by chaos, the only thing I seek is order and peace. Naturally, I also believe that General Zettour loves peace with all his being.

All civilized people long for peace, lest they be criminally insane warmongers who would use their own nation as fuel to wage an all-out war.

I continue to speak from a perspective of beautiful peace and productivity. "Without a shred of doubt, I love peace and only peace. Though, as a soldier dedicated to my nation's interests, I merely wish to carry out my

duties as efficiently as possible."

I refrain from adding and earn my paycheck. Regardless, from the way I see it, fighting a war we can't win is a terrible business model. We need to be more efficient about how we do things; we need to use our capital more carefully.

We don't need the honor from the heroes of our past, but we should absolutely reap the benefits of whatever they left behind. Using our time and effort on a venture that can't be won is not much different from pissing away our careers. The more we kick and scream to try and salvage our emotional investment, the more our feet sink into the quagmire of defeat.

That being said, I don't want to open up loose ends in the department I'm trying to leave. It would be foolish for me to spare any effort to complete my resignation procedure before changing jobs.

As a human resource who always makes it a point to do her best, Tanya will remain subjective and appeal to her superior the best she can.

"If we kill General Rudersdorf, all we're left with is a single murder. But if we were to stop the mastermind behind a coup d'état, it would serve a purpose in increasing our influence."

With General Zettour listening intently, now is my chance to sell this idea to him. This is no different than explaining a strategy. He holds the key; I just need to make him realize it.

"I would like to strongly suggest that we focus on devising a plan for what happens after we foil General Rudersdorf's Plan B."

"I see. We shouldn't remove the cancerous Rudersdorf, but…"

Precisely.

I give him a small nudge in the right direction.

"His death would trigger a selective purge of soldiers within the army. We can use the confusion to bring the Supreme High Command under the control of the General Staff Office and effectively create a short-term central command for the war."

"…A counter coup. This would be my…our…Plan B."

I find aggressive and decisive action to be most efficient. We'll be able to end the plot to overthrow the government and seize complete control over the war effort at the same time.

General Zettour grasps this within an instant, which fills his mind with one thing: hope.

"The mayhem may increase compared to merely taking Rudersdorf out of the picture…but it may help quell existing turmoil within the Empire."

This would bring us much closer to the original Plan B's goal of creating a central command. No, it will surely meet this goal. And legally, to boot.

"The bloodshed will be kept to a minimum. It will allow us to maximize our returns with as little effort as possible. It should be terribly easy, too."

"You make it sound simple. We'll be killing our own this time, Colonel.

Do you understand what this means?"

He then shows a more morbid expression… I wonder what he isn't getting here. The premise has gone over General Zettour's head. Why would Tanya ever want to kill an ally?

"Excuse me, sir, but where exactly is the issue?" "What? Wait, do you know what you are saying?" "Sir, is there a reason to deploy my troops?"

I'll borrow what Cao Cao said during the conflict with the court eunuchs who eventually sliced up a certain butcher: There is no need to summon the troops.

A countercoup is fundamentally a display of power made in the name of

law and order.

"Military force is to be used against our enemies. The police should be more than enough."

If we're going to assault an enemy base in the east, then yes, we need to deploy combat engineers, mages, artillery, and infantry. But we aren't heading to the east for this one. Our target is an office in the Empire. A

couple of peace officers in uniform should be more than enough.

"A single MP unit will be able to easily apprehend all of those involved in the coup."

"Are you suggesting we hand the General Staff over to…?" General Zettour doesn't finish his sentence.

He instead closes his mouth and reaches for another one of his cheap cigarettes. Using a lighter that appears to be a recycled bullet cartridge, he quietly lights his tobacco. He looks to the ceiling every now and then and adds to the lingering cloud of smoke above. A short amount of time passes before he finally…comes to a conclusion.

"Not bad." He utters these two words to himself. "If we deploy our own troops, it will cause widespread panic. There's no reason our little surgical procedure…needs to be carried out by mages." He smirks, or maybe it is a sneer. General Zettour rubs his chin as he cheerfully exhales a big puff of smoke. "It seems my head is still in the east."

"You mean you're too used to fighting a war against barbarians?"

"Yes, that's right. I've become so immersed in the barbaric process of war that I forgot how to fight battles back home."

He chuckles at his unbecoming lack of judgment as his brilliant mind is likely filling in all the gaps at a blistering speed. The cigarette in my superior's mouth highlights his dastardly grin accompanied by the devilish gaze of a scheming child.

"If we can preemptively end this using only the MPs, then…"

The rest of the sentence is lost as he exhales a big cloud of smoke, but it's clear what he was going to say.

"We'll get exactly what we want, with little to no sacrifice on our part.

Then we will be able to centralize our military's leadership during the trial."

General Zettour responds with a nod, then shoves his cigarette butt into his ashtray as if it were the most satisfying smoke he's ever enjoyed before promptly taking out a new one. After quietly smoking for a moment longer, he then says something as if he is speaking to himself.

"…A secret feud will take place behind the closed doors within the Empire…"

"Yes, that's what needs to happen."

"Well, it's always better for surgical procedures to be as unintrusive as possible. So, tell me, with the board the way it is, what would your next move

be?"

He asks this question as if he were a military academy professor. I almost feel like we're in a classroom on campus on a lovely afternoon.

Soldiers who come from an academic background are cut from a different cloth. We're talking about killing someone here, and he makes it sound so elegant in a way I never could.

"I want to hear your opinion, Colonel."

"I think we should start by drawing General Rudersdorf out of the General Staff Office and keep him somewhere where we can reach him."

Ideally, we make his death look like an accident. The purge would start after we find proof of the coup in the personal belongings that he leaves behind.

The most convenient circumstance would be for him to simply be killed in the line of duty, but there aren't any scenarios where the Deputy Director of the General Staff Office would expose himself to enemy attack. Even if we can draw him near the eastern front, how exactly would he end up dying there?

"Explain to me how you would do it."

"We need a reason to bring him to the eastern front without drawing attention…and figure out how we'll weather the shock that will inevitably rock the army."

Just as the study of urban economics dictates, there is a considerable advantage to be gained from proximity alone. This general principle applies to authority as well. A worker fears the boss who sits next to them, not the boss in a different office. So if we're going to make an accident happen, the east is the best location.

Not to mention…dying on the battlefield isn't what I would call unusual. "Perhaps we can use Colonel Lergen to lure General Rudersdorf to the

east?"

"That can't be done."

The way I'm shot down without hesitation arouses my curiosity. "Oh? Do you mind if I ask why?"

My superior shows a wry expression.

"We must bear in mind that Rudersdorf has Colonel Lergen working on a peace deal with Ildoa."

"Is that not a testament to his trust in the man?"

The fate of our nation rides on those negotiations. It only makes sense that he would put the man he trusts most on the job. My intuition tells me that General Rudersdorf places a great amount of faith in Colonel Lergen, but it seems General Zettour disagrees.

"Rudersdorf is merely going along with the negotiations as a compromise. It's not about Colonel Lergen's ability…but where he stands. He would have the colonel working on preparations for his Plan B if he truly trusted him."

"Trusted him to take his side?"

Precisely. General Zettour nods as he wedges yet another cigarette butt into his ashtray.

"I know from having the entire eastern front thrust upon me. His faith in people is proportional to how abusive his assignments are. He gives the worst of tasks to those he truly trusts."

There is a tone of pride in his speech, and it's painfully clear where this is going.

"Well, that makes this easy. Sir, excuse me, but…" "You don't need to say it."

My smiling superior easily qualifies as the single most abused Imperial officer given how he's been forced to shoulder the fight against the Federation.

"You want me to do the dirty work, don't you?"

I silently affirm General Zettour's question with a nod, and he smiles back. It's a big, brimming smile.

Quite frankly, almost a bit too big. For a man about to kill one of his best friends…the way he then quietly whispers "very well" is rather gentle.

"How will we do this?" That's the easy part.

"What if we arrange for an accident to occur while he's in the east? What do you think of a plane crash?"

"Those do happen every now and then."

"Yes. How unfortunate it would be if there was a maintenance issue."

It is difficult to prevent accidents in an air transport network that is chronically overworked. This is considered quite problematic, and the Empire has taken ample precautions to study how to improve the reliability of our flights. However, during times of war, necessity is often prioritized over safety, with the occasional accident being the price we pay.

"I'll have my troops make sure that there is an accident."

General Zettour responds to this proposition with a moment's silence. He clamps his lips on his next cigarette without saying a word before lighting it. After gently clouding the air around us, he vocalizes his concern together with another puff of smoke.

"It's a good plan overall, but the plane crew will also be caught in the accident."

He drops his fist onto the desk before continuing.

"You talk about minimal costs, but the crew will be our own soldiers.

Soldiers who were assigned to the wrong plane, on the wrong day."

What honorable words. He is completely correct in a humanitarian sense. I agree with him, I really do. The lives of others need to be held in the highest of regard. Even if this is a necessary procedure…tell that to the people whose lives are sacrificed.

I should be embarrassed by his criticism—by the way his glare rebukes my idea.

I should be, but I'm not. For it is General Zettour who made the remark. "Sir, could you…"

"What is it?"

I don't mind the look of disgust. You're free to pretend to be a man of good principles if you so wish. In fact, the sentiment itself is worthy of praise. But, setting all this aside, I'm afraid I must point out…

"Could you please take a look in the mirror? Your jaw seems to be acting up."

"Oh…oh?"

A slightly perplexed General Zettour begins to rub his jawline. I'm assuming what's happening to him is entirely unconscious.

The real change happens, though, the moment his hand touches his mouth. It could only be described as a dramatic change…the way the scorn in his eyes brightens up like a summer's day.

"I can't help but notice how pleased you seem about all this." "…Is that the kind of face I'm making?"

Honestly, he looks like a serial killer doing what he enjoys most: murder. The joy is practically flowing from his gaping grin. There's little denying that my boss is essentially a highly capable, utterly relentless…psychopath.

"Yes…it appears your brilliant suggestion had me overjoyed. While I am

aware of the crime we will commit, it seems I can't elude necessity's motherly push."

They truly are one and the same, Zettour and Rudersdorf.

From my perspective, the two of them are both loyal patriots—through and through—to the strange societal construct known as a nation. A point that I can't help but feel makes them both irrational beings, but…perhaps my viewpoint is influenced by the time and place I originally came from.

In any case, be it people from my times or these times, pandering is always a social constant.

"The deputy director is a great man."

He is a perfect strategist. This issue has never been his ability to strategize but his temperament. What the Empire needs now is someone who can manage our bankruptcy. It always makes me so sad when a mismatch in human resources such as this occurs.

This is why, the very least we can do for him is…

"He is a great man who I feel is suitable to become the foundation for the next hundred years of the Heimat."

Oh, how I wish I could take a picture of this wonderful smile on General Zettour's face! I think I can chalk up my appeal to my boss as a success.

"Colonel, should I thank you?" "Only if you wish, sir."

"Ha-ha-ha-ha, what a great answer. Let us give praise to our mother." My eyes open wide. I'm caught off guard by his remark.

"Our mother?"

What is he saying all of a sudden? General Zettour is always incredible… He's the ideal superior. Maybe it is due to the war, but as of late, sometimes he can act a bit strange. I occasionally have trouble responding to him, being the sensible person I am. In times like these, I do what any social being would do and quietly hear him out.

"Yes, the mother who offers us her cruel embrace. If there is a god in this world, she is without a doubt Mother Necessity."

He's getting religious on me. Is he faithful to necessity? I guess in his religion, necessity is maternal.

"She is a cruel but mighty deity. Do you not agree?"

Being X is an egotistical piece of shit, but…if there truly is a Mother Necessity, then there's a good chance she is exactly as General Zettour

described in his brief monologue.

"You may be right. That would make her the same as you."

"Come now, there's no need to pander to me. You're making me blush."

I lower my head in apology…though I'm a bit confused by the way my superior waves his hand to his as if he feels the need to physically brush away my praise.

Is he genuinely happy? Did he take that as a compliment? It would be quite terrifying if that's the case…

"All right, if the worst-case scenario ever comes into play, we will have Rudersdorf meet with an accident. I plan on returning to the imperial capital when that happens."

"What shall we do about making arrangements for the military police to move after the accident happens?"

I was ready to act as the messenger to a person General Zettour trusts should the need arise. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, this monster has his own way of doing things.

"I'll handle it. I can do that much from my office."

He says this like it's nothing, but the extent of his influence within the General Staff Office is truly impressive—a product of his long career. It makes me jealous. His record and experience give him options unavailable to a newer member of the organization like me.

Which reminds me of another question at the back of my mind.

"There's one more thing I'd like to confirm. You plan on parting with the eastern front, correct?"

"That is correct."

"Will this not spell trouble for our war effort in the east?"

The war front there is only sustainable thanks to General Zettour's cunning. The place this man has brought us with his unique approach to tactics and strategy is nothing short of a miracle.

A change in leadership would be enough to bring this war to its inevitable conclusion.

"I assume we'll have to retreat as we won't be able to support the front line.

"…I can prepare a position for you if you're up for the job. I could make you a senior staffer at the very least."

"I've heard that keeping the troops battle-ready is a tall order even for

inspectors with the rank of lieutenant general. But for a lieutenant colonel? I doubt I would be able to get anyone to heed any of my commands."

What I want to avoid most is becoming General Zettour's right-hand officer. It would be a bed of nails. I would be in a position to take responsibility for all the confusion of this war. And I definitely don't want that. Besides, I wouldn't be able to exercise any of my skills there. My talent would waste away as I partake in crushing negotiations.

People need to refuse jobs they know they can't do effectively. It can be difficult to do this in a logical company, but maintaining an environment where workers can say no is incredibly important for an organization.

"You don't see it happening?" General Zettour shoots Tanya a hopeful gaze, but he can't have his way. "I have high hopes for you. I'm sure this is a point of pride for you?" He presses the request again.

"Is there anything I can do for the eastern front outside of leaving it as well? Honestly, I don't think there is a single soul in the Empire who could take it over for you."

Quite frankly, I just can't see anyone, even the most capable of successors like General Romel or even General Rudersdorf, being able to fill General Zettour's shoes. The situation is far too complicated. There's no winning move for Tanya or anyone else to make as the commanding officer there.

The most she would be able to do is keep damages to a minimum. And to do even this, her only choice would be to slowly retreat so that her Kampfgruppe wouldn't get caught out of position in the ensuing confusion.

In that same vein, I should also ask what level of damage my superior is willing to accept in order to evade said confusion.

"Either way, we need to contain the chaos of the eastern front. I believe the situation there, which has a strong spillover potential into our home country and the entire war front, should be decisively stopped."

"You have nothing to worry about in regards to that. There is still space in the east that I created."

Hearing General Zettour say this gives me a different idea.

I remember the organization General Zettour created to govern our conquered territories. It's a vicious organization, a council that touts the dream of independence to the many minorities that make up the Federation.

"Could we use the Council for Self-Government for a deep operation…?" "I know I created it for such a purpose, but I doubt they could manage it

now."

He's probably right, so I simply nod.

The council was a rushed project, after all. They would never rise to the occasion on their own. What power they did have was backed by the assurance that the Imperial Army would squash any real opposition.

"The foundation for their existence lies in the Imperial Army holding the front line. They can't do more than maintain public order in the regions I've placed them."

The most they could do beyond that is handle logistics in the rear. "Do you have faith in them?"

"No, but I do have faith in the Federation."

"…That they will do something to make the Council for Self-Government view them as their mortal enemy?"

General Zettour nods silently. The Council for Self-Government's understanding that the Empire has no territorial ambition is based on pragmatism and national raison d'état.

"If you've thought it out that far, we could just firebomb everything." "That won't work, Colonel. There's too much land to cover in the east…" General Zettour then expresses his inner defeatist.

"There's no need for us to sow the seeds of hatred." "If we win, they will be called loyalists."

"If being the operative word."

We both know the chances of this are slim, reducing this entire conversation to mere banter.

"Those are mighty strong words to hear from a lieutenant general."

"Do you want me to tell you we'll win? Then, Colonel, I'll need you to fight hard for our victory."

"I spoke without tact. Please forgive me."

He nods and we both sigh. This is what it means to accept our unfortunate reality, our bitter fate.

"This is why, Colonel, things may get tough for your troops." "Well…that's how it always is and has been."

"Then please, do continue." This country is black.

We're doused in our own blood, which has oxidized to a jet black. As much as I love being in the black, I'm not a fan of breaking the law or

exploitative systems.

Damn this forsaken world to hell. "I'll do what I can."

"Perfect, let blood flow in the name of necessity."