September 27th 2201, 0136, Officers' Quarters KYT As I soaked in the bath, I recalled the day, three years ago, when I’d first held Kikyou in my arms. After Kikyou had come to her senses, me and her had sat side by side on the sofa, catching their breaths, and Kikyou had made several declarations to me, which I had accepted. • I will always love you, Captain. • I will never tie you down. Please feel free to be with other people. • Starting tomorrow, I will be living with you. I will be in charge of all housework. Please dispose of anything you don’t need without hesitation. • If it’s all right, I would be happy if you treated me like your mistress and let me spend my final days with you. I had expected Kikyou to demand that I marry her or take responsibility for her in some way. Accelerated Synths had reproductive organs but were unable to produce sperm or eggs. It was convenient for men. There was no reason for me, who was a walking ball of lust, to refuse. Kikyou was an Accelerated Synth and only had a lifespan of twenty years. On top of that, she was a soldier, and the possibility of her dying on the battlefield was high. Even if she did, the same went for me. I stood on the same battlefield as her, and since I was a Natural, my DNA hadn’t been artificially adjusted. There was a possibility that I would die young from some kind of illness. Up to this point, however, I hadn’t noticed anything wrong with my body, and the combat forecasts had remained low probability, except for that last battle. As promised, Kikyou never interfered with my relationships with Saika and Suzuran, either. She really was treating me like her favorite. In this situation, even if I did find a fiancé, she would keep her promise and continue to treat me as her lover. That didn’t necessarily mean the fiancé would allow me to keep three mistresses, however. After we got out of the bath and ate the curry rice Kikyou had made for us, she didn’t return to her room. As usual, she was dragged into my bedroom. After a short while, Kikyou was pressed up against me in my bed, breathing heavily. Both of us were flushed and lightly sweating. “I really am a piece of shit, aren’t I?” “Yes, you’re one of the worst. There’s no denying it.” “And yet, why do you do so much for me?” “I don’t know. I do it because I want to.” “You’re faithful to your own desires, aren’t you?” “Absolutely.” “But don’t you get jealous when I spend time with other people?” “Everyone has lots of things we like. As long as I am in second place, I don’t mind at all.” “Why second place?” “I will leave this world before you do, Captain. Not only because of my lifespan, but also because I'll sacrifice myself to protect you in battle. If I were in first place, there would be no one left to take care of you after I'm gone. So I want you to marry a natural-born human, have children, and live happily.” “You really wouldn’t get jealous if I married someone you didn’t know?” “No. In fact, I would be able to devote myself to loving you without having to worry about taking care of the house or anything else. Besides, I’m an accelerated synth, so there’s no way I could bear your children. I’m sure it would be fun to dote on your wife’s children, too.” “Even if we’re just speculating, I think it’s more likely that any woman I marry would be the one telling me to break up with you. Humans are naturally possessive. It’s just me and the people around me who are different.” “Yes, Captain. The people around you are certainly unusual. It’s not normal for all of us to share your circle of friends, nor would it be easy to accept. And you do the same thing with all of us. So if the time ever comes that you have to cut me out of your life, please don’t hesitate to do so. But thinking about it that way, Captain, you really are a piece of human garbage.” “Oh no, you’re going to make me cry.” “If you’re going to act like that, you should have done so long ago.” “You’re right. There’s no point in pretending anymore. I guess my desires are just too strong. It’s a real problem.” “But I still love you...” Soon after, I could hear her cute snoring. After the operation ended, she’d prepared the bath for me, made dinner, and kept me company. It was only natural that she would be exhausted. I decided to give in to my own drowsiness. October 5th, 2201, 1000, 1st Infantry Battalion Headquarters Conference Room, KYT All the members of the First Battalion were gathered in the conference room. Of course, that included me and my group.

Today’s operation was the extermination of the base of Lunarians that we had discovered a few days ago. In summary, the First Battalion, about three hundred soldiers in total, would be storming the crevice. We had sent a drone into the cave and discovered that there were about four hundred Lunarians inside, and that there were few branches in the path, meaning that one battalion should be able to handle the operation. Company 14 would attack the crevice with incendiary weapons, turning the cave into a hell of fire and asphyxiation, while Company 13 would mop up any Lunarians that tried to escape. Once the fire from the incendiary weapons and the escaping Lunarians had died down, Company 12 would launch a mortar attack into the cave. The command believed that about 80% of the Lunarians would be incapacitated by this point. Then Company 11, to which I with sixty-four other soldiers, plus the ten members of the headquarters, belonged, would charge the crevice and deal with the leftover 80 Lunarians. I was satisfied with the division of roles. Company 14 was good with handling dangerous substances, Company 13 had a particularly high firing accuracy, Company 12 had many former artillery soldiers, and Company 11 had a high survival rate in close-quarters combat. It was a plan that made good use of each unit’s strengths. This didn't mean that the other squads were lacking in other areas. In fact, all the squads had achieved passing scores in their basic abilities. This was simply proof that the command center had a good grasp of each squad's characteristics. The forecast I was most concerned about was the following: Battle Forecast: The special operation will transition into a battle to exterminate the enemy. In some places, it may rain blood. Casualty rate: 5 percent. It wasn’t a bad forecast. If three hundred soldiers participated and we exterminated four hundred Lunarians, and fifteen of us died or were injured, command would consider it an acceptable loss. War is a ruthless game of subtraction. It takes years to raise soldiers, but we can be killed in an instant. Command’s job was to find the most efficient way to take down the enemy while minimizing friendly casualties. My squad, 1111, would be the vanguard of Company 11. We were a rare squad that excelled at close-quarters combat, and we had earned the nickname “Mad Dog Squad” among the other units. Each unit's operation outline was sent to individual terminals. I confirmed the data and verified my squad's role. All that was left was to execute it as planned. If there were any issues with the operation, changes would be sent to the terminals in real-time. The meeting ended, and as soon as I stood up, the three members of Squad 1111 immediately followed me. We went to the squad's room, where we thoroughly checked our equipment in preparation for combat. It was a scene we had repeated many times. My heart was filled with the thought of ensuring that my squad didn't suffer the 5 percent casualties predicted in the battle forecast. A 5 percent loss for a squad was nothing, but for an entire battalion, the threat was very real. The probability was the same, but with a different denominator, the likelihood of casualties became almost certain. On top of that, the probability meant something completely different for the previous defensive operation and this offensive operation. In the last operation, the underground city’s artillery batteries had been available to us, but for this operation, we didn’t have an artillery battalion. This was a pure infantry operation, and we wouldn’t have any fire support. My mind was filled with negative outcomes. If the reconnaissance information was wrong, the operation’s foundation would crumble. For the time being, I would examine the information I’d been given, assume the worst, and proceed with the operation. I didn’t care if the other units took losses; I just wanted my squad, 1111, to come out of this unscathed. No matter what kind of operation it was, the conclusion was always the same. I would protect the squad members I held dear. That was my code of conduct. October 6th, 2201, 0530, Operation Area In the dim light, the battalion set up a base of operations three kilometers from the crevice. We lined up the armored vehicles we would be using for the reconnaissance mission and the precious few tanks we had in a semicircle, with the battalion headquarters placed at the center. Since this operation was close to the underground city and the target was also underground, instead of the armored vehicles we normally used for reconnaissance, most of the personnel were transported in covered cargo trucks. My squad had also been brought in by truck. The armored vehicles and tanks, precious resources, were deployed only to the extent necessary to defend the command center. After we got out of the trucks, we had to make our way the rest of the way to the crevice on our own two feet. It was like a pleasant picnic. I put on my helmet and a map of the whole zone appeared on my monitor. The operation was about to begin. The 14th Company began moving, and the 13th, 12th, and 11th followed in succession. When the 14th Company reached the crevice, they skillfully poured liquid Iwakram into it. Since petroleum couldn’t be mined anymore, Iwakram had become the sole source of energy. Liquid Iwakram was a dangerous substance that could ignite with just the slightest spark. The 14th company worked diligently and silently, even though we were in a tense situation where static electricity or a spark from contact with metal could set off a fire in the blink of an eye. Occasionally, a Lunarian would emerge from the hole, and they would stab it with their bayonets from all sides to silence it. Firing would have been a suicidal act that could have ignited the Iwakram. Through the radio, we could hear the 14th company’s tension in the occasional sound of someone swallowing. The 14th Company withdrew from the crevice as one coherent mass. The tactical monitor displayed a message that read FIRE PREPARATIONS COMPLETE. "All units, take cover," the battalion commander ordered, but I and the others were already in position. There were no fools standing out in the open on an exposed plain like this, where the enemy could see us from a mile away. Our helmet visors were already set to maximum opacity. “Ignition in five seconds. Two, one, ignition.” A pillar of fire several dozen meters tall erupted from the crevice, brilliantly illuminating the area, and a heavy bass sound reverberated for several seconds. I wasn’t sure if it was by chance or by design, but the blast seemed to shoot straight up into the air. I checked the wind speed on the monitor, but it hadn’t changed. The 14th Company withdrew, carrying the now-empty oil drums. A Company that was unarmed and burdened with unnecessary equipment would only get in the way. The 13th Company lay in wait and opened fire at the flaming Lunarians that leaped out of the crevice. As the Lunarians crawled out of the crevice, they were immediately pounded back into the inferno by the 13th Company. Not a single one was allowed to escape. After a while, a pillar of fire rose from a crevice in the distance. The two crevices must have been connected underground. It was easy to imagine the flames licking through the subterranean tunnels. As the sun rose and the overcast sky began to lighten, the 12th platoon, which had positioned itself behind the 13th, began firing mortar rounds into the crevice. The mortars ran on Iwakram fuel and power, so there was no limit to the number of rounds they could fire. The mortar shells exploded one after another inside the crevice, and the ground trembled slightly. Occasionally, armor-piercing rounds were fired, and the grenades continued to explode deeper and deeper into the crevice with meticulous precision.

— So the recon map we got during the operation briefing was useless after all. — As I watched the bombardment destroy the cavern, I thought about how the battle forecast had updated. Battle Forecast: Artillery bombardment, followed by a mop-up operation. About 60 percent of the Lunarians have been neutralized. Casualty rate: 10 percent. This was the information I hated the most. A casualty probability of 10%. That was a 5 percent increase. One in ten of us was going to die or be injured. And the 11th Company, to which I belonged, was going to be the main fighting force in the mop-up operation. It was only natural to assume that casualties would come from among our ranks. The actual casualty rate would probably be even higher. It was proof that the operation wasn’t going according to plan. In the operation briefing, we were supposed to have neutralized 80 percent of the Lunarians by this point. At 60 percent, we were 20 percent behind schedule. In other words, we would have to fight twice the number of Lunarians we had expected in the confines of the cavern. When I checked the tactical monitor, I saw that the 111 platoon would be the first to enter, followed by the other platoons in numerical order. In the 111 platoon, the 1112 and 1114 squads would be the vanguard, the 1111 and 1113 squads would be the rearguard, and the 111 platoon command squad would be in the rear. The 1112 squad had probably volunteered because of Jabami’s grudge against me. On the other hand, the 1114 squad had been assigned the role of "canary" because of their poor performance in the last battle. They’d been deemed personnel who wouldn’t be too painful to lose if we fell into a trap or were caught by surprise. Now, would the gung-ho 1112 squad and the scaredy-cat 1114 squad be able to work together effectively as the vanguard? For a moment, I wondered that, but I quickly reconsidered. Commander Kagayama in headquarters wouldn’t have approved such a mismatched formation. In other words, the 1112 squad —or rather, Lieutenant Jabami— had been planning to use the 1114 squad as a shield from the beginning. It was all probably because of Jabami’s suggestion. Headquarters wouldn’t have had any reason to object, so they just approved it. Warrant officer Imori had drawn the short straw. Well, I guess he brought it on himself. If I hadn’t gone to rescue him during the last battle, he would have been dead by now. He should count his blessings that he’s gotten a few extra days of life. A countdown appeared on my tactical monitor. It showed the timing for our entry after the mortar attack ended. When the countdown reached zero, it would be go time. When the countdown hit two minutes, the sound of the rocket launcher stopped. When the silence returned to the battlefield, we could faintly hear explosions and screams coming from the crevice in the cavern. “1111 squad, confirm equipment. Fix bayonets. Top up your Iwakram ammo.” “Kikyou, ready.” “Saika, ready.” “Suzuran, ready.” I received reports that the squad was ready from my squad radio. Even without my instructions, I knew my subordinates would have finished their preparations long ago. The countdown hit ten seconds. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, now. “11th Company, advance.” The commander gave the order via radio. The 11th Company, which had been crouching on the ground, started running for the crevice all at once. The 111th platoon, the one I was in, overtook the 112th and 113th platoons and was the first to enter the crevice. The 1114th platoon fired blindly into the cavern, and the 1112th platoon lobbed hand grenades in deeper. The cavern was filled with flashes of light and explosions, but there was no response from the Lunarians. The temperature inside the cavern was more than fifty degrees, and the oxygen concentration was lower than normal, but that had no effect on our armored suits. The lights equipped on our helmets illuminated the interior of the completely dark cavern, revealing piles of charred Lunarian corpses. I tried switching to the thermal sensor, but as I’d expected, the corpses were radiating heat, and the air was hot, too. Everything was tinted red, and I couldn’t make out any details. In the end, we had to rely on the old-fashioned method of using lights. While we'd lose the lement of surprise when we turned on the lights and thus reveal our position to the enemy, the Lunarians had excellent night vision, and having no light at all would put us in a disatvantage in this darkness. This might have been the reason the probability of death or injury had risen to 5 percent. There was no room to walk with all the Lunarian corpses piled up, so we had to trample over them to get to the back of the cavern. I felt the softness of flesh and the hardness of bone under my feet, but that was normal on the battlefield. Sometimes, you had to build a wall out of corpses and hide behind it. As the 111th platoon proceeded through the cavern, we used the guncameras attached to the muzzles of our assault rifles to peer around corners and make sure it was safe to proceed. On the tactical monitor, I could see another platoon proceeding through a different cavern, and they didn’t seem to be encountering any resistance, either. As we descended into the cavern, I checked the tactical monitor frequently to make sure we didn’t end up shooting at our allies by mistake. The walls and ceiling of the cavern were black with soot from the incendiary rounds. It seemed the grenades had burned the cavern to ashes. I and the rest of the platoon descended carefully, but the battle forecast showed no change. The probability of death or injury was still 10 percent. The only explanation was that an undamaged Lunarian force was lying in wait ahead of us. We had no choice but to proceed cautiously through the cavern. Maintaining the necessary tension, we plunged deeper and deeper into the gloomy abyss where death awaited us.