October 6, 2201, 1431 Surface, First Infantry Battalion Headquarters, Operations Room The battalion headquarters had deployed several airtight desert-camouflage tents, each measuring ten meters square. All of them where connected to each other. These tents housed the battalion commander's office, the operations room, the medical room, the communications room, and more. In one of these operations rooms stood Second Lieutenant Tojoji, known throughout the battalion as a cool beauty with short hair, dressed in her field uniform. Her beauty and intelligence drew attention not only from the men in headquarters but also from other battalions. Many had tried to court her, but she rejected them all. Having no intention of associating with anyone inferior to herself, she had been waiting for a man worthy of her excellence. Even Captain Kagayama, a superior officer popular among both female officers and soldiers, was nothing more than an ordinary man in Tojoji's eyes. Besides, it was common knowledge that Kagayama had a fiancée. Always composed and calm, she never flirted anyone and maintained her aloofness. But now, she was panicking, losing her composure, and beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead as she clung to the monitor. Pride and reputation no longer mattered to her. She was oblivious to those around her. Forgetting to sit down, she gripped the mouse so tightly with her right hand that the plastic creaked. Her legs were trembling, and she felt as if her knees might give way at any moment, but sheer willpower kept her standing. Toujou had graduated from the military academy and had a year and a half of combat experience under her belt. No one in headquarters had ever seen someone lose their composure to this extent. — Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? — The first operation Tojoji had planned since joining the military was collapsing right before her eyes. The number of Lunarians far exceeded the predictions. She couldn't even estimate the maximum number of Lunarians in the current situation. The number of casualties was steadily increasing and the combat forecast combat forecast showed no signs of a decreasing fatality rate. The depth of the caves was greater than they had anticipated. A sudden, unexplained accident had occurred. An operation that should have been manageable by a platoon now required a company-level response. Everything was going against Tojoji’s plan. In this exact moment, people were being injured and dying beneath her feet. The chaotic screams and confusion from the front line flowed poured into the command center through the speakers, crushing Toujou's heart. Tojoji's plan was supposed to end with zero casualties; she had been brimming with confidence. She had dissmissed the 10% casualty rate displayed in the combat forecast as only a meager 5% increase compared to the normal margin of error. She had been certain that her own calculations were more accurate than the computer's combat forecast. A loss of 5% was nothing to worry about, or so she thought. Even if about ten people were injured, the military's medical technology could easily heal a dozen or so injured soldiers. She hadn't even considered the possibility of fatalities. How could the deaths and injuries of just a few soldiers so drastically impact the operation? She couldn't comprehend it. At the military academy she had been taught that a casualty rate of 30 percent was tantamount to total annihilation. Back than she had laughed at this statement, assuming they were only words of instructors who had never experienced real combat firsthand. It was all just theoretical speculation. It was absurd to call it annihilation when seven out of ten soldiers were unharmed, right? But real combat now showed her that in such a case manpower was diverted to treat and care for the wounded, making it difficult even to defend, let alone maintain the offensive. Sure, ff they abandoned their comrades, they could maintain the offensive, but no one would do that to their comrades with whom they had shared hardships in training and battle. The moral of the army would plummet, and front-line movements suffer. People were able to leap into the jaws of death because they believed their friends would never abandon them, no matter what. Having never been on the front lines, Tojoji didn't know that those who abandon their comrades on the battlefield have a strangely higher chance of dying later. So what was reality like? Just a few deaths and injuries had thrown the whole battalion into disarray. Occasionally, the cameras of front-line soldiers displayed images of the wounded and dead on the monitors in real time. Images burned into Tojoji's mind of soldiers whose arms had been broken by Lunarians, or whose heads had been smashed along with their helmets, their brains splattered. A sourness welled up from the pit of her stomach, and she involuntarily vomited her entire lunch into the trash can. Under normal circumstances, this would have been a familiar sight to Tojoji and she wouldn’t have thrown up just from seeing a corpse.

However, this time, everything happened because of her strategy. That fact weighed heavily on her. It was the first time she’d ever experienced such shame, defeat, and stress all at once. It was supposed to be a simple task: just destroy a Lunarian invasion base, something that had been repeated over decades between humans and Lunarians. Entrusted by Captain Kagayama, she had studied past operations and meticulously crafted what should have been a perfect plan. But had it not been herself, as Captain Kagayama's adjutant, who had reported the incident where Lunarians had developed countermeasures against armored vehicles? She should have predicted that past records were no longer reliable. All the flaws in this operation stemmed from Tojoji's miscalculations—or rather, her unfounded assumptions without even making calculations. Initially, she had intended to submit the plan under Captain Kagayama's name, but she underestimated the difficulty of the operation and submitted it under her own name for the sake of her own promotion. She should have had her superior, Captain Kagayama, review the plan. Tojoji had gotten a little praise from Kagayama, and it had gone to her head, making her think she was on the same level as him. It was obvious that the full responsibility for the operation's failure would fall on Tojoji. She bit her thumb so hard that she broke the skin, her teeth sinking into the muscle; blood trickled down her arm, but she didn't even notice the pain. How could she recover the situation? How could she reduce the damage? How could she annihilate the Lunarians? And how could she avoid responsibility? Tojoji's mind was racing at full speed, but it was all in vain. She had forgotten about her comrades fighting underground and was focused only on self-preservation. “Second Lieutenant Tojoji.” She heard Captain Kagayama’s familiar voice behind her, but she didn’t have the presence of mind to respond. “Second Lieutenant Tojoji.” Someone yanked on her right shoulder, and she snapped back to reality. In front of her stood Captain Kagayama in his field uniform. Afraid to meet his eyes, Tojoji immediately looked down. Having only seen his face for an instant, she couldn't tell if Kagayama was angry. She was too afraid to look him in the face. No, she simply didn't want him to see her face twisted in humiliation. She just wanted to avoid being called incompetent. Even at this critical moment, all she could think of was self-preservation. The Tojoji that Kagayama had seen this morning and the Tojoji before him now were completely different people. Her short, silky black hair, which had once been neatly trimmed, was now disheveled from her frantic scratching, and her formerly radiant, clear eyes were now bloodshot and red. — What a waste of a beauty. She's really pushed herself to the brink. Is she useless now? — “Second Lieutenant Tojoji. I'll take over from here. It seems we're facing an unprecedented situation. Take a rest.” “No, Captain. I'll make up for my own mistakes.” “Hmm. I see, so that's where your mind has ended up. I guess I wasn’t clear enough. Let me convey the battalion commander's order to you: Second Lieutenant Tojoji is relieved of her duties as operations staff officer. Captain Kagayama is to take over. That is all.” “Wait, please. I can still fix this. Let me try.” Tojoji mumbled in a faint voice, still looking down, but it was clear she was being crushed by some obsessive sense of responsibility and couldn’t see the reality of the situation. What could someone who couldn't grasp the current situation possibly do? “Lieutenant, that opportunity has already passed. The battalion commander has issued an order. This is absolute. If you defy it, you'll be placed in the disciplinary cell.” The moment she heard the word "disciplinary cell," strength drained from Tojoji's body, and she began to collapse to the ground. Kagayama caught her by the arm before she could fall on the back of her head. Tojoji had completely lost consciousness.