Chapter 138 : Ghosts of the Past

“-To ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍hell with the hypocrites.”

Ever ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍since the organization known as the Red Hand was founded, those words had always been both their symbol and their purpose.

They ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍were a notorious terrorist organization known not only throughout the Human Composite State, but also within the Free Planet Alliance and the Holy Galactic Empire.

Yet ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍surprisingly few people knew their origins or where they were based.

Naturally.

The ‍​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Human Composite State had buried their origins through media suppression and the eradication of information.

As for their headquarters, they constantly wandered beyond the Defensive Line aboard a fleet centered around a massive flagship.

「[Current Affairs] Red Hand: Ruthless Terrorists, or the Voice of Freedom Opposing Composite State Militarism?」

「Shocking Terrorist Attack... Ministry of National Defense Spokesperson: “We will never stand by and tolerate this.”」

Public opinion regarding them was surprisingly divided.

Terrorists.

Resistance.

Warlords.

There were quite a few who even viewed them positively.

Perhaps that was only natural.

What kind of nation was the Human Composite State?

Outwardly, it presented itself as a federal, bicameral democratic republic led by the Supreme Chancellor.

In reality, however, it was riddled with fascism, militarism, and racial purity ideology.

And that wasn't all.

Leaving aside its treatment of colony planets beyond the Defensive Line, there were endless accusations that it discriminated against and divided even the planets within its own territory.

“Recognize the Red Hand as a legitimate political party!”

“We want to live in a just world!”

“Waaaaah!”

The masses always needed heroes.

Even if those heroes weren't morally perfect, there were countless people willing to support them if they could shatter the suffocating reality before them.

Intentions could always be dressed up.

Ugly truths could always be buried.

Naturally, the Composite State government wasn't foolish.

It openly publicized the Red Hand's anti-state terrorist activities.

But to those who already supported them, such reports were nothing more than “despicable and underhanded attempts to sow division.”

“Who was it that saved the civilians at Atla Colony last time? It was the Red Hand! The National Army is deceiving its own citizens!”

To those who supported the Red Hand, the truth had never been particularly important.

Whether they sincerely believed in them...

Or supported them in exchange for money or other benefits.

The Red Hand was a sharp thorn aimed at the Human Composite State.

That alone gave it countless uses.

The closer one traveled to the outer planets, the more favorable public opinion toward the Red Hand became.

Most citizens still thought, A terrorist organization is going a bit too far...

But to anti-state separatists, the Red Hand represented an ideal.

...At least until they learned the truth.

“Fuck. Fuck!”

Staff Sergeant Paul, a Special-duty NCO of the Lemal Planetary Defense Force, cursed repeatedly as he despised the former version of himself who had once embraced that fantasy.

If possible, he wanted to punch his past self in the face.

The same fool who had anonymously donated to them several times.

BOOOOOOM!!

The explosions echoing through the corridor grew even louder.

Blood of unknown origin dripped steadily onto his crimson military uniform, staining the rusted steel floor beneath him.

“Move!”

“B-But!”

“Can't you tell?! At this rate we're all going to die!”

At Paul's shout, the young cadets following behind hesitated for only an instant before gritting their teeth and sprinting after him.

“Stop them!”

“Fuck off, you sons of bitches!”

“Gah!”

Soldiers of the Red Hand occasionally blocked their path through the corridor with firearms.

But Paul and the cadets, whose eyes had already become bloodshot with desperation, tore through their bodies without the slightest hesitation or guilt as they rushed toward the hangar.

The steel flooring of the aging vessel—something that looked as though it belonged on a ship from the Second Galactic War—rattled violently beneath their feet.

Hissssss—

Steam burst from rusted pipes that could no longer withstand the pressure.

Wiiiiiiiiing!

The alarm sounded by the Mother AI after detecting the disturbance mixed with the pounding footsteps on steel plating, overwhelming the senses.

Paul bit down hard on his lip.

Perhaps because he'd recklessly exhausted his Psionic Energy before his earlier injuries had even regenerated...

His body was steadily losing strength.

“S-Staff Sergeant! The hangar entrance is over there!”

“Run!”

The moment Paul and the cadets spotted the entrance beyond the dense steam and flashing crimson warning lights, they poured every ounce of strength they had left into reaching it.

「Hangar No. 3」

Had the captain who had planned the escape with them already opened the door?

Most likely.

He had also been rather sympathetic toward the Red Hand.

But after seeing the evidence Paul had secretly recorded, along with the cadets' condition, he had flown into a rage and helped them escape.

Captain Satra.

If it hadn't been for her...

Would things really have come this far?

For a fleeting moment, Paul directed his aimless anger toward her.

But only briefly.

“They're over there!”

“Get them! Don't let them escape!”

After glancing once at the dented hangar door, Paul heard the footsteps rapidly approaching from behind.

Grinding his teeth, he activated his Dual Gear and slammed a hand against the corridor wall.

“I SAID STAY THE HELL BACK, YOU INSANE TERRORIST BASTARDS!”

Crunch!

His fingers sank deeply into the steel wall.

The twisted metal pipes running through the corridor ripped free and shot toward the charging soldiers like countless sharpened spears piercing through the steam.

“AAAAAGH!”

“Gah!”

“AAAAAAAHHHHH!”

One man's ear was pierced clean through, his brain matter spilling from his neck.

Another had both his thigh and heart impaled simultaneously, his corpse hanging limply in the air.

A third had narrowly avoided his vital organs, yet remained skewered in place, writhing helplessly and screaming as though mounted for display.

Yet as Paul watched the scene unfold directly before him...

His face contained not the slightest hint of guilt or hesitation.

Only satisfaction.

And fury.

You psychopaths. You insane bastards.

Until now, he had genuinely believed in the Red Hand's cause and cooperated with them.

But the moment he saw what they had done to the cadets, he came to utterly despise them.

Every time the cadets were brought back, they seemed... wrong somehow.

Suspicious, he had crawled through the ventilation ducts into one of the research facilities.

After witnessing what happened there...

He hadn't been able to eat properly for days.

“They're not having their personalities erased. We're merely making them a little more favorable toward us. However, some cadets possess stronger mental barriers than others.”

“And what happens to those?”

“We have no choice but to reset them. Ah, don't worry. There are plenty of martyrs willing to fill the vacancies. Like Liberto, for example.”

“How interesting. But is this really the fastest you can manage? We need more Special-duty Officers.”

“Unfortunately, this is the limit for a research facility aboard a ship. Besides, stabilization takes time. Not to mention the considerable number of specimens that end up being discarded...”

The researcher's confident voice that he had overheard still echoed in his ears.

Treating cadets...

Treating human beings...

Like laboratory rats.

Nowhere within them did he find the resistance fighters battling the Composite State for justice that he had once imagined.

The reality was far simpler.

They were nothing more than rabid bastards consumed by hatred.

He could say it with certainty.

If he could turn back time...

He would use every credit he had donated to the Red Hand to support orphaned elves instead.

That would have been infinitely more humane.

“Fuck. Fuck!”

Uttering the profanity he hated so much once again, Paul threw himself into the hangar.

Gathering every remaining ounce of strength, he slammed the mangled door shut.

CRAAAAAANG!

The thick metal door crumpled inward with a heavy metallic roar as it sealed itself shut.

Seeing it close, Paul collapsed backward onto the hangar floor, now soaked with blood and filthy wastewater, gasping desperately.

“Haa... Haa...!”

Though merely a Dual Gear-class Special-duty NCO, there was a reason he had earned a First-Class Knight Medal after fighting during the closing stages of the Third Galactic War.

After catching his breath, he brushed back his sweat-soaked hair and spoke.

“Alright... now we escape—”

But then...

A prickling killing intent and overwhelming sense of wrongness crawled across his back.

He couldn't sense the cadets anymore.

No...

More importantly...

Why was the hangar so dark?

The cadets who had entered first should have turned on the lights.

Even if the power had failed...

Could it really become this pitch black?

Swish—

Instinctively, he raised a hand and touched his own face.

At that very moment, a man's voice, mixed with the eerie sound of shifting air, brushed against his ears.

“-Ss. You're quick to notice.”

“S-Spare...”

Only then did Paul realize his eyes had been removed without him feeling any pain.

He wet himself in terror as he tried to beg.

The only reply was a single sentence accompanied by horribly twisted laughter.

Slice.

A tiny tear in space opened.

It swallowed Paul's head whole.

The headless body, severed as cleanly as though measured with a ruler, collapsed helplessly into the pool of blood before becoming still.

“Ah... Ahhh...”

“P-Please spare us... P-Please... W-We only came because... because that bastard said we should run...”

The lights in the hangar had never gone out.

The cadets never even dared look at the face of the man sitting atop the corpse wearing a captain's insignia, whose head had likewise disappeared completely.

Instead, they trembled like leaves while kneeling upon the blood-and-filth-covered floor.

“-Sssst.”

Each time the man exhaled, the black gas mask covering his neck and lower face emitted a harsh hiss as it shifted slightly.

He had messy crimson hair.

Hideous scars crept across the portions of his lower face not concealed by the mask, writhing with each breath.

After quietly watching the cadets for a moment...

He lazily extended one hand.

The hangar door Paul had closed vanished entirely.

Thunk.

A few fragments of steel that the black void had failed to consume fell weakly from the air.

The Special-duty First Lieutenant waiting outside in a crimson uniform suppressed a slight tremor before saluting.

“Loyalty. To hell with the hypocrites. Sergeant... may we escort the cadets away?”

“-Ss. Get lost.”

Before the cadets could even process the bizarre sight of a first lieutenant addressing a sergeant with honorifics...

They were dragged away by Red Hand soldiers, disappearing beyond the corridor.

Left alone inside the old hangar, the crimson-haired sergeant remained seated for a long while.

Eventually, he took out a silver dog tag.

Its name had been violently scratched away with a knife.

――――

RH+ A

■■ ■

UP56-1170098

――――

Thinking back to those days that could never return...

Days he himself could never return to...

His gaze toward one particular man became impossibly complicated.

Respect and contempt.

Trust and distrust.

Regret and fury.

That man had never trusted them until the very end.

And in the end...

He had abandoned them.

“-Ss... Jin Crow.”

A ghost of the past had spoken his name.

Meanwhile, at that very moment—

Jin Crow instinctively dodged the fist flying toward him before driving his elbow straight into the Vice Governor-General's solar plexus.

“Ghk!”

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Revenge for my arm!”

After noticing the prosthetic arm replacing the Vice Governor-General's real one, Jin Crow frowned and stared at the muscular man with thoroughly exhausted eyes.

“...I'm tired.”

It seemed increasingly certain.

There truly wasn't a single normal person left in this galaxy.