The Legion were clearly focusing their attacks on formations with many reservists, soldiers from minorities conquered from other lands, and Alba. Each time they broke through and routed the people, a veteran unit had to come in and take back the land they lost. This cycle repeated itself over and over, and gradually, the veterans’ feelings toward the reservists, minority people, and Alba their comrades died for went from sympathy to discontent.
Useless reservists. The conquered people will always be outsiders, when all is said and done. And, Republic scumbags, former Eighty-Six Legion are coming for your heads in revenge, and the Federacy has to get hounded for it.
Why is it always us?
✦ ✦ ✦
The groups directly targeted by the Legion were the ones who took the most casualties. Concentrated attacks repeated themselves, they took great losses, rinse and repeat.
This didn’t happen in formations manned by veteran Federacy soldiers of different races. They alone were constantly exposed to those terrible attacks, dying, and with this, the new soldiers gradually began to build up resentment not just toward the Legion, but also toward the veterans of the Federacy army.
They must have been using them as bait, stationing them in places where they were most likely to die. The veterans didn’t want to die, so they put the others in the most dangerous spot instead. They conquered them and then treated them as second-rate citizens.
Why is it always us?
✦ ✦ ✦
Nina’s aunt hadn’t given her permission to go outside for some time now. Whenever they did go out, she hid Nina with her body or under a coat, and she took care not to move to where it was loudest—where people were the most heated.
Nina already understood what she was doing and why—why she was trying to protect her.
“…Weißhaare.”
Someone uttered that word as they passed by them on the way to the market. The sheer enmity that person gave off made Nina shrink in fear. White hair. It was old Imperial slang mocking the Alba’s silver hair. Kids from other classes or upperclassmen would occasionally say that word at school, too. The teacher always scolded them for saying a bad word, but they never stopped. In fact, a bad-tempered teacher even called her that one time.
A weißhaare spoiled princess, too cowardly to stand and fight.
But Eugene went to the army and died there. He wasn’t a coward.
The streets were almost entirely full of what looked like evacuees from the territories, swinging their fists and shouting about something. They were short but well-built, their skin tanned and wrinkled. Their clothes looked antiquated to Nina, plain and poor.
They raised their voices and tried to get the attention of passing citizens, who regarded them with glances of annoyance and disdain. The evacuees were apparently citizens from the frontier territory right behind the second southern front. They were displeased that the reserve position being built behind the front line led to their towns and farmland being torn down.
“The army just needs to hang on and not fall back! They don’t have the nerve to protect us; they’re cowards!”
“These are our homes, our fields! Do you support this atrocity?!”
Before long, some of the passersby started responding to their calls. Mockingly.
“Isn’t that because you Vargus manbeasts couldn’t protect us? Actions and consequences.”
This made the evacuees’ expressions instantly contort. This reaction spurred more people to cry out in ridicule. They were part of the audience, hidden in the crowd, but they spoke proudly like they were talking on everyone’s behalf.
“Right, actions and consequences. You reap what you sow. This wouldn’t have happened if you did your jobs and protected the border. Stop acting like victims when you’re good-for-nothing. And why are you going on about your fields when cities next to the capital are getting bombarded? It’s all discarded land now anyway.”
“Who are you calling manbeasts?! Don’t compare us to animals!”
“And discarded land…?! You invaded us, taking away our ancestors’ names and crops and lands and rights, and now you’re calling it discarded land?! You invaders!”
In their anger, someone started mentioning a centuries-old grudge. This made someone else laugh outright. “That’s right, so kneel before your Imperial masters, you barbarian losers.”
“…Let’s go, Nina.”
Her aunt spurred her on, her expression stiff. She turned around and walked away from there as outright shouting finally erupted behind them.
Nina held on to her aunt’s hand, which was calloused from housework. Voices like these were all Nina heard in the capital nowadays. She was frightened, more so by that fact than the shouting itself.
✦ ✦ ✦
With the interrogation about the Actaeon at an end, Primevére and her group were left in a detention center in Sankt Jeder. She assumed that investigation into the Actaeon’s biology was ongoing based on the documents the Federacy confiscated, and they were being kept in detention to keep them from running in case the results of that inspection required any further confirmation.
Sitting in her room, Primevére clenched her hands into fists. There was no radio or television in this room, but she could guess at the situation outside based on the attitude of the officer bringing them food and the snippets of conversation she heard from the hall. It wasn’t just the Alba who were being discriminated against; the Federacy’s people themselves were divided and growing incensed at one another. And everyone was looking for the right target to vent all those frustrations on.
So if, in this situation…
“The Republic gets branded as being at fault for the Actaeon…”
✦ ✦ ✦
—She felt sick.
There was a market celebrating the Holy Birthday in front of Sankt Jeder. The girl was seated in the most crowded part of it, on a brick platform that a large fir tree was set on, watching the glittering lights pass by. Even at noon, the electric lights, sparkling star decorations, glass ornaments, and the people’s smiles shone bright.
She’d fled her new home and lived secretly in Sankt Jeder. The last time she was here, before she was taken in, she would have never imagined the atmosphere in this city could be so tense. Back then, Sankt Jeder looked peaceful, like paradise, a kind town. But once the thin veneer was off, it was no different than the lab in the Eighty-Sixth Sector.
But even so, this Holy Birthday market shone bright. Lots of people walked about, looking happy and joyful.
And so she couldn’t help but feel that it was unfortunate that they’d have to get caught up in her situation.
“…But I can’t do anything anymore… I can’t move.”
She felt so sick. Her field of vision was swimming, and her head was too hazy to fully compose a coherent thought, so she couldn’t move. All throughout her stomach and in her chest, the Dear cells had awakened and were reshaping her into a bomb, but she just couldn’t move.
And so…so she was here. At this festival brimming with people, all of who looked like they were enjoying themselves. Parents walked with children, friends walked hand in hand, lovers nestled together in bliss.
“There’s nothing I can do to change this, is there…?”
Her doing this here would no doubt be a very effective way of taking revenge on the Republic. She got up, hugging the big bag of nails she carried against her chest, without wearing her coat, and started walking. Her new big sister had bought her that coat after dragging her around town all day shopping to find one that looked good on her. She couldn’t bring herself to take it along for this and removed it before coming here.
The sight of her walking with unsteady steps without a coat in this cold weather drew attention. People pointed, some shrinking away from her after matching her face to the pictures of the suspects shown all over the news.
But it was too late now.
“I’m sorry.”
She didn’t listen to her fellow friends from her hometown who’d implored her to join them and go home before time ran out, to go somewhere where they wouldn’t hurt anyone. She never even replied to their messages.
Kiki, who kept her smile up even in that hellish research laboratory. Karine, the responsible big sister of the group. Citri, who was as kind, gentle, and pretty as a fairy-tale princess.
She hated them.
She hated the fact that they could smile, carry themselves like big sisters, remain kind and pretty even in that hellish research laboratory. They could have hated and held grudges against the researchers, but they didn’t, and she hated that. She hated that the thought of revenge didn’t even occur to them, that their pure, selfless integrity ran so deep.
And because she hated it so much…
…her revenge would ruin even that pure, selfless integrity.
“I’m sorry, everyone.”