I warn you this is far from my best chapter, even by standards of my early writing. Nothing technical, just boring story-telling. Also, note that most characters, when speaking the local Falmart language, will be using a broken version of it since they are far from fluent with it. This should be already known from last chapter, but still a disclaimer.

Neither GATE nor GuP belong to me.

Thanks to user Charlie Meiou for his input into improving this chapter back in early 2017. I was close to abandoning this fic before that.

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Chapter 3
Unhappy Encounters

Forest near Coda.
7:22 hours

The group surrounded the body of that blonde woman they had just rescued from the well, with their helmets and hats at the height of their chest as a sign of mourning and respect, staying like that for a few moments before turning around and slowly returning to their vehicles. Khoakin, one of the last of them, was passing over the body when he accidentally kicked it with a foot, causing a groan of pain from the elf, a very weak one, that made him stand next to it for a few seconds surprised by what he had heard. It was then when he saw that the elf's chest began to move slowly again, with the sound signaling a very erratic breathing...

"Hey, oxygenated hair! Get me some first aid tools, quick." Khoakin yelled, attracting everyone's attention.

"Why?" The tank crew member answered reluctantly, his spirits down.

"Just do it." Khoakin hurriedly ordered, crouching in front of the elf near her nose. "Quickly!"

The tan-skinned blond ran to the tank and returned with it's first aid kit, which Khoakin snatched from him in a matter of seconds. Tearing the elf's clothes on the chest, he took out some tissues and wiped the surface of any debris, dirt or things that had stuck to it from the stagnant water of the well or the fall, and then glued the ear again. This time he covered his other ear, and with his other hand he gestured to the group for silence to the group that looked at him confused. For a few seconds he heard nothing until he felt something soft: an almost non-existent heartbeat.

"She is alive!" He exclaimed, turning his head towards the rest of the group. "She's fucking alive!" He repeated. "Quick, help me or she won't be for long!"

The first to emerge from their surprise were Miho, Roth and Sasha, who approached the russian officer and helped him carry the now alive elf woman to the surface of one of the tanks, where they checked her again. She was, indeed, alive, but without proper care she wouldn't last long.

Roth was, perhaps by far, the most knowledgeable of radio communication in the group among the europeans. While he had heard that one of the japanese girls had a radio operator license, he didn't fully trust the abilities of the easterns in emergencies like this. In a couple of quick strides he reached the half-track, calling Alnus-based Falmart Command over the radio.

"Foxtrot Charlie, do you copy?! This is half-track 231, Downfall 7-7, over!" Some static was heard, the radio waves struggling with the forest around the group and the lack of infrastructure. Roth tried again. "Does anyone receive me?"

"Downfall 7-7, this is Foxtrot Charlie. We receive you with clear signal. What is the situation?, over."

"Finally! Foxtrot Charlie, we have a severely wounded civilian that needs immediate medical attention. We need some life support equipment, and we need it now! I doubt she lasts long! Coordinates are... hum..." Roth struggled with the improvised map of the region drawn by imperial prisoners back in Belgium. "Hotel Bravo 5-2. Do we have any air vehicles available?, over."

"A japanese school brought a UH-1 Iroquois, it's currently finishing assembly. As soon as it is ready we'll send it to you, over."

"Understood. LZ is clear, we'll mark it with flares. Hurry up, damn it!"

Roth gave the radio to one of the crewmembers of the half-track and returned to the main group, ordering for him to be notified if Falmart Command gave any indication. Meanwhile, on top of the chassis of the IS-2, the ill elf was being treated in different ways; her clothes were changed, was piled up with blankets, and the crew of the tank even turned the engine on for it to provide heat. Unfortunately, as the minutes passed, and to the students despair, the mysterious patient finally gave a silent and final breath, one as silent as the one that made them notice she was alive, finally leaving the living world. The group of students, in discomfort for the most part, did not speak in the long process of digging a small ditch and burning the body there, Roth going towards the radio to report what happened.

"Foxtrot Charlie, Downfall 7-7." While his voice was neutral, a hint of sadness could be noticed on it.

"Come in, 7-7."

"Cancel MEDEVAC, I say again, cancel MEDEVAC. The patient is gone."

"Sorry to hear that, 7-7." The radio operator back in Alnus seemed to feel the same as the soldier, despite keeping his professional tone. "Is Kommandant Nishizumi over there?"

"She..." Roth spotted the japanese tank commander. She was looking at the place where the elf was buried, hollow eyes. He was aware that Miho had seen combat during the Battle of Flanders but, despite that, he had no idea what thoughts were going through her mind nor what her ideas regarding warfare were. "Kommandant Nishizumi is busy right now. European 2IC Petrakov is available, though, over."

"Pass me to him."

"Understood."

Roth threw the microphone in a sign of helplessness and impotence. It didn't go very far thanks to the cable to which it was attached, causing the distance traveled to recede and the noncommissioned officer to take it back into his hand. He searched for officer Petrakov and, as he had expected, he found him sitting on a rock in the sideways, analyzing the scene with cold eyes.

"Captain Petrakov, Falmart Command wants a word with you."

Petrakov gave no verbal answer, but nodded and went to the radio on the half-track. Roth took a few seconds to keep analysing the rest of the group: the japanese tank crews had returned to their vehicles, no doubt crying or about to if the ones visible in their hatches were any sign of their status. Contrary to their commanding officer, the russian tank crew was noticeably sad, though they showed it far less than the others. The germans of his unit were also keeping themselves together, but they wouldn't be combat effective for a while. Finally, as he was finishing his inspection, kommandant Nishizumi walked away from the spot where she stayed glued for the last ten minutes, going to her tank. Roth approached her quickly.

"Kommandant, should we stand by for a bit? Most of our units are not combat effective in their current status." Miho gave no reply, just looking at him with hollow eyes for what appeared to be eternal seconds. Roth thought that maybe he used terms that the japanese tank commander didn't understand, given her lack of fluent skills with the language, so he toned the few jargon used down a little more. "Our soldiers and students need to recover from this. Should we rest for an hour or so?"

Miho gave a tired nod and retreated to her tank, mumbling something under her breath. Roth thought he heard words such as "Flanders" and "romans" in her speech, but given that most of it was on japanese, he wasn't able to understand most of it. He shrugged and went back to his half-track, where he found Khoakin still talking to the radio and his german squad waiting on the vehicle.

"Dietrich," he called Hans, commander of the assault team, gesturing to him to come closer. "Go tell the other teams we'll be resting here for about an hour before moving."

"Yessir." Hans nodded tiredly, no doubt resenting the night with little sleep they had and the demise of the town, standing up and leaving the half-track. Roth turned to the MG team.

"Feller, take both teams and mount overwatch around the convoy. Be careful with the debris and weakened structures."

"Roger that." The grenadier nodded and patted the shoulders of his men. Soon they were locating themselves around the perimeter, searching for any activity. Enemies appearing were a very small possibility, given that the forest caught fire the night prior, but Roth wasn't going to risk it with the team's morale this low.

"This is a shit-show." The voice of Khoakin coming from next to him made Roth jump a little, taking a step back. "Morale is low as hell. Our men will recover quickly, probably, but the japanese girls are probably staying combat ineffective for a looong while."

"Did you finish talking with HQ, or did you throw away the microphone while shouting you would do whatever you want? You seemed to like doing that last time."

"As much as I would like to say it's the latter, yeah, I finished talking with them. Is harder to get away with trashing the radio when HQ is crewed by westerners. Apparently, they're planning something big. Orders are to return to base, if possible arriving today. We'll have a few days of rest before moving out again, this time with many more people. Said rest will probably be to recover from what happened to both us and other teams. Who knows what the hell they found."

The two watched the destroyed landscape of the small town, away from the rest. They were some of the few in the team that were relatively unaffected by the incident, by one reason or another.

"There was nothing we could do," Khoakin murmured after a while. Both knew that regardless of what they had done, she would have died anyway. They had arrived too late.

"Have you killed someone before?" Roth asked the russian. He sighed before taking out a bottle with a transparent liquor that he should not have with him, that being vodka, offering it to the german. Roth gave a small smile before receiving the bottle and taking a quick swig from it.

"Several people, if you ask me. Mostly accidents in the middle of the battles between academies, back in the old system." Roth had to suppress a shiver at the mention of the 'old system', though Petrakov was largely indifferent to it.

"Wait, mostly? As in, you killed someone on purpose or something?"

"Even during duels, you know when something is going to kill people. Artillery, for example."

"Oh, right."

"As I was saying, most were during duels with other academies. Maybe the only one I feel remorseful for was once in a game of what you westerners call 'Total War' against the Finns. They made some kind of trench system during early winter, and my commander decided to bombard them until they left the trenches. When the trenches resisted the artillery for a lot of reasons, he instead ordered a full armored assault."

"But wasn't the terrain all disfigured due to the artillery?"

"Exactly." Khoakin took a long swig from the vodka bottle. "That's exactly what happened. Some 50 meters from the trenches the tanks in the center were bogged down in the craters and the support infantry was massacred by machine guns. I was on the left flank, less attacked and with a lot more luck. That until some poor bastard appeared in front of us a fired a fucking panzerfaust at my tank. That 'faust, combined with the ice and the terrain, made us drift out of track, and the Finnish was paralyzed by fear on his place at the tank going full speed at him."

"And... what happened?"

Petrakov gave Roth a funny glance.

"What do you think happened?" The russian gave a small chuckle. "Of fucking course we crushed him on the spot. I had half my torso outside the hatch, so I saw it all. It was a genuine accident, so for once I was out of trouble. Nothing remained but a bloody mess of meat and cloth and a dented helmet, which I myself gave to his family. I wasn't well received, and of course I wouldn't be, but they appreciated the gesture."

"Sounds rough. I guess that kind of stuff happened in the old system."

"You also were here back on the old system, right?" Khoakin asked, standing from the rock and stretching a little. "After all, the first time we worked together was less than a year ago, so... this is your second year?"

"Yeah. I was in the Incident too. Those were dark times."

"Well, shit. I've heard that that was a mess. Count yourself lucky to be alive."

"I do, I truly do. Though I was out cold for most of the heavy fighting, recovering from wounds." Petrakov finished stretching and started to walk, Roth following suit. "But at least I learned something thanks to the Incident."

"What?"

"Well... that you can't cheat death after all!" An ironic laugh followed the statement, both russian and german sharing it, before heading back towards the main group. The vodka bottle was left on the tomb of the unknown elf, next to an improvised cross made of two sticks to mark it.

"What should we do with the prisoners?" Asked Roth before approaching the vehicles too much. They were near the tanks, but still out of audible range.

"What about them?" Khoakin answered with another question, a raised eyebrow on his face.

"I mean, it's a miracle they haven't escaped yet, but I don't really know if we can take them back. We lack the space to move them adequately, and now our crews are pretty demoralized on their own. The trip back to Alnus won't be short either."

Khoakin observed the four individuals who most of all looked annoyed at the waiting, all of them tied to the half-track with a rope. An idea appeared in his mind, his indifferent expression once more appearing on his face.

"Do you have something to mark a track and something to mute a sound?"

"I use a rope or some reflective tape. As for the noise thing, I can improvise with some blankets from Coda we kinda 'forgot' to give back. Why?"

Khoakin took out his personal gun. "I'll take care of them. If anyone asks, they've escaped."

Roth didn't need to ask to understand what Khoakin was going to do. In silence he gave him a reflective tape and ordered his men to patrol the other side of the perimeter, himself taking the overwatch of the sector to prevent anyone from approaching. After a while, Khoakin re-emerged from the forest, the prisoners nowhere to be seen, the reflective tape burnt and four bullets less on his personal gun magazine.

An hour later, the armored convoy left the burned town, all of them aware that the four prisoners had "escaped." Those who knew best stayed in silence, not wishing to disturb the already sour mood surrounding the group...

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Anzio Private School.
Meanwhile...

"So you're saying you got some kind of instructor or something?" Pepperoni asked Duce. The commander and her two second-in-command were heading to one of the secondary heliports at one end of the Italian themed private school Anzio's aircraft carrier, the Aquila.

"I have! I talked with Kay the other day and she was very kind, offering us to contact an instructor to help us train our new unit so that we don't make a fool of ourselves in the new world." The Duce replied happily. Not only had she gotten a highly trained instructor... it was also very cheap thanks to Kay! Should she thank her with canned anchovies when they meet? The answer to that question would be left pending, since the aforementioned had left with her school detachment to the new world a few days prior.

"Let's just hope he's a good person..." Carpaccio timidly commented, walking slightly behind the pair that were talking animatedly, who upon reaching the area marked with a white "H" a flat sector waited a few minutes. Not long after, in the distance, a Bell UH-1 Iroquois approached from the horizon, landing after a few minutes.

Once on the ground, one of its cargo doors opened and a man in his late thirties appeared. He had a short yet tousled blonde hair, tanned skin and a tall height. He wore the regular uniform of the US Army, with the tab of the famous United States 75th Ranger Regiment, among other distinctions. He had a somewhat large backpack on his back, giving the impression of still being on active duty. He walked over to the three students at the side of the helipad and stood at attention, carrying his hand to his temple.

"Major James Johnson, ready for duty!" He introduced himself raising his voice due to the helicopter's engine noise. Despite that, his face showed confidence accompanied by a juvenile professionalism. Anchovy nodded in approval at that, while his two vice-commanders looked at each other nervous and somewhat surprised at the fluency that the american had while speaking japanese.

"Welcome to italian-influenced Anzio Private School, major! I'm Anzio's tanks and infantry club commander Chiyomi Anzai, but you can call me Duce or Anchovy!" Anzai and Johnson shook hands energetically. "You have everything you need?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, eyeing the helicopter from which only the pilots got off, carrying only a plastic bag with some refreshments.

"I have everything I need in here!" He replied proudly, patting his backpack. Anchovy smiled.

"Then let's go." The group began their walk to the main building of the school, Anchovy at its head followed by the visitor and her two seconds in command. On the way she explained the situation to the major.

"In short," Johnson spoke. "You want me to train a group of your girls to act as an airborne light infantry or special operation forces unit so you can fight in the new world alongside the other european schools?"

"Yes, that's the gist of it. We have had financial problems for a while, especially with the tanks, but equipping infantry is way cheaper, besides the possibility of getting borrowed vehicles from the europeans. Considering the other japanese schools only sent tanks, having some kind of infantry is a much more viable and effective way to cooperate. We had prepared the foundations of this unit in advance in anticipation of a duel against the Europeans, but that duel was canceled due to the unfortunate attack by the Saderans."

"I see ... well, you are in luck! Two of my nephews went there too, so I will take special care with your training so you make a good impression on them." Johnson said jovially, attracting the attention of the tank commander.

"Your nephews...?" She thought for a bit. "Is one of them, by any chance, a blonde named Kay that goes to Saunders University High School?"

"Exactly! Do you know her?"

"Yes! In fact, she helped me contact you in the first place." Anchovy answered, slightly embarrassed.

"Well well, would you look at that. This has suddenly turned a lot more interesting..." Somehow, Chiyomi and Johnson ended up laughing together in a diabolical way while Pepperino and Carpaccio looked at each other, worried about what could come out of that union of personalities.

"So, I read a bit about it before calling you, but what are your specialties?" The question drew the laughing to an end, the instructor back to his business mode.

"I'm a former US Army officer at the 75th Ranger Regiment. After retiring I went to work as an instructor at the Rangers High School back in the States." Anchovy's eyes glittered dangerously. "Regarding specific specialties, I would say light infantry and airborne tactics are my forte."

"Carpaccio!" The aforementioned jumped of surprise at the sudden calling, running next to their leader. "How many european schools sent paratroopers or special units?" The blonde girl quickly checked some of the papers that she carried with her, notoriously messing them up due to the nervousness.

"A-academies from the United Kingdom and Germany have brought special units. The russian only conventional soldiers, as far as we know." She reported. Anchovy turned to the american officer with a devilish smile, a signal that Johnson caught immediately.

"Are you thinking of Italy's Folgores?" He deduced, being answered by Anchovy with a nod. "I see... I look forward to how capable your women are." The place was filled again with a low but dangerous laughter, one that caused both Pepperoni and Carpaccio to gulp and pray for what was to come. One of them could even swear that the lighting around them was turned off as the laugh continued.

Meanwhile, two helicopters from the JASDF approached the main heliport of the carrier, each carrying various boxes of supplies...

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Town of Coda
Hours later...

Shortly before noon the armored convoy entered once again to the small agrarian town of Coda, coated in a cloud of pessimism and reluctance over it. This was noticed by the elder of the town who, when the convoy stopped at the outskirts to rest, walked towards the group. Shifting his gaze from one member of the team to another, he finally opted to approach one of the tall boys in gray uniform. Said boy turned out to be Roth, the reason he was chosen being that he appeared way more composed than his peers.

"What happened?" He asked, worried at the expressions worned by most of them. Specially affected were the girls in the iron horses, to whom he looked with obvious concern.

"Remember forest with village?" Roth spoke the local language in a broken manner. The elder nodded. "Well, forest is burn. Trees were burn. No people alive. Last person died with us."

The elder stayed silent, his face showing his understanding of the incident. Even after the display of strength they showed the previous day, he couldn't prevent a surge of empathy and pity towards the teenagers. At the end of the day, he realized, they were still children facing death. He also knew that it was wildly different to see death in a battlefield compared to the regular, mundane world, something he learned out of experience though his younger years. Eyeing the group once more, he invited the most affected girls to rest at his house while they stayed in Coda. Roth struggled to explain that he wasn't in charge of the group, in the end just saying that he would ask.

Miho Nishizumi was still unfazed, her gaze lost in the inexistent horizon of the trees surrounding her tank, sitting on the chassis of it. Roth didn't like that stare. It reminded him of the survivors of the Incident, back during the final days of the Old System of the military academies. His gaze shifted towards a dark-brown haired girl with a striking resemblance to his commander, who was sitting besides Miho. Said girl casted a cold glance towards the european NCO, who just turned away.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Just some rounds on the crews. Need them to recover so we're not toast if we are ambushed on the way back."

"I see..."

A few seconds of silence ensued, each looking at different things.

"Did something happen with the elder?"

'Right,' Roth finally remembered, 'she's kommandant Nishizumi's older sister."

"Nothing, miss Nishizumi." While a year older than her sister, more experienced, also part of the japanese tank clubs and herself a tank commander in the group, Maho Nishizumi was not granted the kommandant title by the european military academies. In fact, she wasn't granted any title. This put her outside of the chain of command, unlike her sister who was in some sort of limbo regarding it, something that made it difficult to deal with her on Roth' eyes. In the end, he opted for a civilian way of addressing her. "Just telling the news."

"The news?"

"That the forest is burnt and a whole village decided to check if the Underworld is a real thing or not."

In hindsight, he deserved the hate-infused glance he received: he should have checked his words around the demoralized tank crews. Maho Nishizumi turned away her gaze from the NCO, who in turn went in search of kapitan Petrakov. He found him not far from his tank, checking his handbook about the local language.

"Oh look, if it isn't Roth." The greeting was the usual, though the russian's gaze didn't leave the handbook. Apparently, Khoakin was truly not a stranger to death, if he had recovered so quickly. It was good, though, since they needed someone sharp to give orders in case something unexpected happened. "What brings you here?"

"Standard answer is just doing some rounds, 'captain.'" The snort given by said captain was a clear indicative that his way of saying his rank annoyed him, much to his personal delight. "But I got a proposition from Coda's elder that I wanted to discuss."

"Why not kommandant Nishizumi, then? I guess she must have recovered during the way back. She did kill quite a few romans herself back on Flanders if I'm not mistaken."

"Kommandant Nishizumi has a fucking thousand-yard-stare as of this moment. And the proposition kinda involves her too." Khoakin turned his gaze from his handbook towards the NCO, his eyes as serious as the ones from the german had become. "Coda's elder said that he could lend his house to the most affected girls in the group so they could properly rest while we stay here on Coda. Guess that would include kommandant Nishizumi."

"No shit. She may be fine to take and give orders, but surely as hell she isn't going to be thinking straight anytime soon."

"Should we take the offer?"

Khoakin thought for about two seconds.

"Yeah, sounds good. Dispatch two of your men to keep guard there too. This is the ancient world with a tint of the middle ages, I'll guess that more than one adult male will try his luck with undefended teenagers."

"Right."

"Also, even if she resists, tell the kommandant's older sister to remain in her tank. She, at least, looks way better than her sister and is a known face among the japanese girls. We need her outside in case something bad happens."

"Do you want to do that yourself? She might hate me now for a comment I made a couple minutes ago."

"Wait, you too?"

Russian and german looked at each other with an eyebrow raised, both sighing at the same time.

"You know what?" Khoakin finally said. "I'll take command of the entire thing. Just let her do what she wants."

"Isn't that your job in the first place?"

"Do I look like I came here to command a group of sad and traumatized girls?"

"No?"

"Exactly. Now get moving."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." Roth stretched his arms towards the sky, walking towards his halftrack. "What did I do to deserve this?" He asked nobody, arriving to the vehicle.

"Dunno. Did you anger the wrong person?" The comment from Hans got some laughs from the rest of the crew. Roth just looked at him mildly annoyed.

"Well, well, congratulations Hans. You just won a ticket to mount guard at the village elder's home for the next three hours." The laughs now were directed at the obergefreiter. Roth took the chance to relax a bit, sharing the laugh.

"Alright, is my loss." The corporal sighed. "So, what were you discussing with the russian?"

"We'll probably be resting here for a while. Get comfortable, gentlemen, for it will be a lazy lunch at the team Downfall 7."

"As if the sun wasn't bad enough." One of the grenadiers commented. The rest laughed a bit, preparing to unpack their things for lunch. Hans approached Roth.

"So, that thing of keeping guard at the elder's house... it was a joke, right?"

Roth tried very, very hard to suppress his grin. He had partial success, but it was enough.

"Of course not, obergefreiter. Pick one man and watch over the girls that will be resting there. You may be relieved in some two hours."

"But my lunch...!"

"Well, tough luck my friend."

Another round of laughs was shared by the german group.

XXXXXXXXXX

Two hours passed with no major incident other than the wind and occasional questions from the locals towards the students still in their vehicles, which helped them improve their understanding of the local language. Some of the Coda villagers, looking at the rations the teenagers were issued and eating, were kind enough to share with them some food, though it was water the most seeked out donation. In many ways it was a "thank you" message for the defense of the village the day prior, and they were happy to provide help to the sleep-deprived child-soldiers.

The stillness of the after-lunch laziness was interrupted by a whinny: a horse got out of control from some house and ran down the main street, under the curious glance of soldiers and villagers alike. That wouldn't have been a problem (the sentinels were quick to avert their gaze back to the surroundings of the town, just making sure to be out of the way of the animal), had it not been for the young girl with light blue hair in the middle of the road who could not see the imminent danger and was thrown around by the animal, catching everyone by surprise. Barely a few seconds after animal and girl crashed with each other two shots rang in the air. The horse fell limp to its side and the german infantry surrounded the young woman. Roth examined her quickly with a hard-pressed glance and immediately went towards the half-track, climbing inside it towards the radio.

"Foxtrot Charlie, this is Downfall 7-7. Do you copy?" White noise was heard as the radio once again struggled with the lack of infrastructure. "Gottverdammt. Could this thing work at the first try for a change?" His complaint was cut off by the disappearance of most of the white noise, making him repeat the call. "Foxtrot Charlie, do you copy? This is Downfall 7-7, over."

"7-7, Foxtrot Charlie, we receive you. What's the situation? How far is the team of Alnus?, over."

"We are currently in a small town called Coda, coordinates Golf Delta 7-5. We have a civilian case here, this one with serious physical injuries. We're going to need some MEDEVAC for this one soon, over."

"Roger that. Stand-by." Roth waited for around half a minute, the radio coming back to life. "Downfall 7-7, do you copy?"

"Affirmative, send traffic."

"We're sending the Iroquois towards you. Status of the LZ?, over."

"LZ is clear, villagers are friendly. We'll use flares to mark our position once the Iroquois is here, over."

"MEDEVAC will take it's time, do your best to keep that civilian alive."

"Understood. We'll treat her as best as we can here, but I'm afraid we're short on medical supplies currently."

"Copy your last. Anything else, 7-7?"

"We'll be arriving in Alnus by the late afternoon. Be advised, japanese female crews are pretty demoralized, so maybe they'll need some help, over."

"Acknowledged. Have a safe return, 7-7. Foxtrot Charlie out."

Roth went back towards the wounded girl massaging the bridge of his nose. For him, the day was going from bad to worse by the second. The commander of the MG team, Gefreiter Feller, walked up to him with a report of the light blue-haired girl, who was surrounded by villagers and a couple other grenadiers.

"She has a bruised leg and the other has some light fractures and a few open wounds. There's no lethal damage, but she won't be able to walk for a while even with treatment." Feller sighed, taking off his helmet and taking off some sweat from his forehead, passing then a hand through his hair. "She got it cheap. A horse running over you isn't a laughing matter."

"First, put your helmet back on." The Gefreiter rolled his eyes, doing as instructed. Roth continued. "Second, yeah, she got it cheap." The two germans arrived at the wounded girl, who was biting her lips to, if they had to guess, not scream in front of everyone. The two kept speaking on german, trying to get as few people as possible to understand them. "Do we have anything with us to help her? Last time I checked, medical supplies weren't a priority, though I think we still had some nice things."

"Some first aid kits, though we used some with the now dead elf. I told Bücker to get a couple of the remaining ones to start working."

"Good. That will save us some time." Roth clapped his hand, getting the attention of all the grenadiers present. He saw Bücker arrive with the first aid kits, and got to issue orders immediately. "Feller, you and your team go back to sentry duty. The village is clear and it must remain that way for when the helo arrives." The Gefreiter nodded, instructing his team to different positions around the perimeter. "Bücker, get captain Petrakov here right now."

"There's no need. I'm here." The sudden appearance of the russian officer startled the germans, who didn't see him come, but Roth was quick on recovering. "Do you need something?"

"Could you send your crew to keep watch over the girls in the elder's house? I want Hans and his assault team to check the village thoroughly to discard any hidden hostiles. I'll get the half-track crew to help me treat the wounded civvie."

"Sounds like a plan." Khoakin turned to his tank, calling his sister. "Sasha, with me to the elder's house! Mikahil, contact Falmart Command and tell them to issue any further instructions to you!"

"Half-track 231, get your asses over here!" Roth yelled at the same time. The crew of the vehicle was already dismounted, and was quick to arrive. Roth then turned to the soldier with the first aid kits. "Bücker, give me that and relay instructions to Dietrich. Quickly."

"Yes sir."

"Good. I already told Alnus about the situation and a helo is on the way. Let's get this lady ready for an air trip to Alnus!"

Soon, the whole european section of Downfall 7 was active, everyone doing their assigned work. The grenadiers under Feller keep watch of the surroundings, while the ones under Hans Dietrich checked meticulously the village house by house, not paying much attention to the local's complaints if they ever arose. Khoakin and his sister took over the guard at the elder's house, keeping any villagers away with their piercing, hostile gazes, all while Roth and the half-track crew worked on the wounded civilian. A splinter was soon improvised with a wooden board gifted by a local, and a tourniquet was put in place. The girl spent the whole time suppressing any noise or complaint, watching the unknown soldiers treat her carefully. The other crews, meanwhile, sent one of two of their members to observe, but soon retreated at the sight of the wounds.

The group was working on cleaning the wounds on her legs and putting everything in their place as well as they could when the elder of the village appeared. He was accompanied by both Nishizumi sisters, the younger one noticeably better, and a member of Khoakin's crew, Yuri.

"What happened?" Maho asked them, staying a few feet away from them. Miho made an attempt to speak, but her sister raised a hand at it. It was clear she was still trying to help her recover from what they experienced that morning.

"A horse ran over this girl. MEDEVAC is on the way by air as we speak." Roth answered, his sleeves rolled up and his hands stained with blood and dirt. Both sisters, as well as the elder, noticed the attention on the girl's face. Despite struggling with the pain, it was noticeable that she was very curious about what was happening around her: the uniforms, the tools, the techniques and, above all, the language. After a while she muttered a few words which she had to repeat, given that no one was paying attention.

Unfortunately for her, none of the germans understood her.

"What did she say?"

"No idea, man. I speak german, not weirdish-fantasy-setting."

"Crap, I have my pocket translator in my jacket, but my hand is so bloody I'll ruin it if I get it..."

"... I use magic."

Miho's words came to everyone's surprise, especially since she hadn't spoken to anyone other than her sister for the last few hours. Combined with the low volume of her voice and her not being used to speak german, that meant nobody understood her.

"Come again?" Asked a confused Roth, an eyebrow raised. The other grenadiers kept working on the wounded civilian.

"I can use magic. That's what she is saying." The younger brunette spoke clearly this time, allowing her companions to register her words properly this time. "The elder told me yesterday that there was a sorcerer and his apprentice in the vicinity of Coda, and by her words and clothes I can guess she is that apprentice." Miho spoke to the girl on the ground, to the confusion of the germans present, gaining a nod from her. The now identified apprentice pointed to a "weird-shaped cane" a few meters from them, asking for it to be handed to her, something the young tank commander did. With it on hand, something happened that made both the germans and japanese open their eyes wide: after a few words out of her mouth, a blue light came out of her staff and slowly moved towards the damaged legs, healing the small open wounds and partially fixing the broken bones. The spectacle continued for a few seconds until she was finally out of breath, falling unconscious. The military students who watched could not believe what they had seen, and some who were quite religious took a couple steps away from the magician, slightly scared or skeptical.

"What the..."

"This is some next-level fantasy shit."

"I might need a beer to process this..."

"So she is indeed a magician," Maho confirmed, still wide eyed.

"I can barely believe it. Imagine the possibilities if the medics learned this magic..." Roth's dialogue was cut short by another of his soldiers.

"You are not serious, right? Who knows how the hell this works?"

"We don't know that. Why turn it down?"

"Dunno man, I ain't touching that without a cross or something strapped to my neck and my hand bathed in holy water."

"As lovely as this conversation is, it's news time." Khoakin appeared among the crowd, more than a couple of people jumping away from him. How had they missed him? He was taller than all the locals, and even taller than the few germans with them. "MEDEVAC is approaching and the crew wants us to signal the LZ. Falmart Command also wants us to continue towards Alnus ASAP, so we're moving as soon as this civvie gets extracted."

"Have the crews recovered yet?" Roth's question was relevant, but the captain dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"They are recovered enough. If they need more time, they'll get it at Alnus."

"What if we find bandits or other hostiles on the way back?"

"Command has already cleared the area around Alnus and prepared mobile units as a QRF. We're not that far out from the safe area, and the sooner we get in there, the better."

"I see."

"So that's it, ladies and gentlemen. Wash your bloody hands, grab your gear and mount your vehicles. We're leaving with that civvie." Khoakin pointed at the apprentice for a couple seconds, just enough to make his point. "Roth, take it from here. I'll get the jap' crews to their tanks and prepare to move."

"Understood. Crew, prepare this lady for transport and finish that splinter. Make sure it's firm."

"Roger that."

"Obergefreiter Dietrich?!"

"Here!" Hans appeared from a nearby house, his team behind him. All of them had their SMGs on their hands, but the safeties were still on.

"Report."

"Just a couple houses left and we're done. All clear so far."

"And the locals?"

"A few complained about the forced entrance, but nothing worth mentioning."

"I hope so. Either way, we're leaving as soon as the civvie does. Check the houses left quickly and mount a perimeter around our vehicles. Make sure everyone is accounted for and ready to leave."

"Right away, sir."

"Gefreiter Feller! Round your men and protect the LZ!"

"Will do, unterfeldwebel!".

Roth gave himself a second to sigh.

"This is so beyond my paygrade..."

"At least you are getting paid." Said Khoakin by the sidelines. Roth chose to ignore that.

"Wait, Roth is getting paid? Isn't he a student?" Maho asked, an eyebrow raised. The russian shrugged.

"The norm is to get paid, these schools are funded or sponsored by governments and the military after all. A few are private, but they also get their funding through different means. Military students mostly get paid, albeit something among the lines of half to a quarter of the minimum wage, since not many are in there for the battle simulation with shrapnel flying around..." he stopped talking for a bit, thinking. "Still, I don't get paid because, erm... reasons."

"Reasons?"

"Yes, reasons. And we'll leave it at that."

"What about the other magician? We can't just take away its apprentice..." Miho's concerns were valid, but Khoakin was barely annoyed by it.

"Don't know, don't care. His fault, probably. Surely the old man here will tell him."

"..."

"Something on your mind, kommandant?"

"Shouldn't we give him something so he can trace her back... or something?"

"You have something for that?"

"I have." Maho's comment threw the russian off. He had forgotten about her. "Would a pen suffice? I'm sure nobody in this world but us has them."

"Brilliant. You do that, I'll go deal with the other crews. See ya in a few minutes."

Away from the group, Roth was already in the middle of a small clearing next to the village surrounded by a wide perimeter of Feller and his men. With one last survey of the area, the NCO took out a gun and fired a red flare towards the sky. A minute later, a helicopter that left the inhabitants of Coda astonished, given that to them it seemed like a metal beast was answering to the call of the foreigners, appeared and descended to the ground level, its side door opening as soon as it reached the ground.

"DOWNFALL 7?" Shouted the paramedic, with Roth nodding. "LEAD US TO THE CIVVIE!"

Using hand gestures and his own movement, Roth led the medical teams towards the center of the village whose entrance they had just descended, arriving towards the light-blue haired and still unconscious apprentice. The crowd has made space for them, scared of the loud vehicle and with the half-track crew keeping the area clear.

"Splinter ready, sir!" Informed one, taking his hand to the temple.

"Prepare the vehicle to move and start the convoy! Pick us up on the LZ." The NCO ordered. The crew vanished in a matter of seconds, the paramedics soon working to install the wounded on a stretcher. With all checks in place, the medical teams moved back to the helo and boarded their patient, its personal belongings to one side.

"HOW'S THE ROAD TO ALNUS?!" Roth's voice, despite him shouting with the full power of his lungs, was barely audible.

"CLEAR! RUSSIAN PATROLS PROTECT IT!"

"ROGER! SAFE TRIP!"

The air vehicle took off. A few seconds later, the convoy stopped next to them, Roth, Feller and the remainder of the grenadiers boarding the half-track. With the Sun starting its descent, nobody spoke much aside from the occasional check-up between vehicles and identifications with patrols on the route. It had been a long while since they left the previous day, and most of them just wanted a shower, a hot meal, and sleep.

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

Mess Hall, Alnus Hill [Occupied by the Academic Coalition]
Later that day...

After a few hours, the seventh recon team was finally able to return their weapons and vehicles to the armories and hangars, most surrounded by a cloud of melancholy and demotivation. But their day was still not over, even with as little of it as remained, as Miho found out after crossing the entrance to the base's mess hall, one not as cozy as they were used to back in their school cafeteria, and having to duck down to prevent a plate of food from meeting with her face. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you asked), the dark-skinned blonde of Petrakov's team, Ivan, did not have the same luck, as he was just stepping in when the plate made contact with his head and his uniform was left stained by the mix of tomato sauce and spaghetti. Muttering curses and insults he stormed into the hall, followed by the curious rest of Downfall 7. But...

"Can't you worry about your own things for once?! I always have to organize everything myself, everything myself! It's always me, always me! Will you ever, yer stupid cunt, even worry about being alive, let alone ready, for a single mission without me checking yer sorry arse?! Because I can assure you and bet on it if you want, that the day when you graduate arrives, if it even arrives that is, you will not even show up as you are just surfing at some random beach that you found interesting half a country away!"

"Blah blah blah, relax, serious gal! It's not like the world's gonna end just because I grant myself a leave of a couple days from time to time! Besides, when was the last time you even took a leave? I mean, aren't you always, like, there at the office with that stern frown and your tidy little uniform and what now? Come-ooon~, have you ever heard the word 'fun'? I mean, I know we are already here on a vacation of sorts, but I could do ya a little favour and show you a nice place if you want when we go back to Earth-"

"Don't even try to sweet talk yer way out of this one or you are meeting the floor face-first in the next minute! And besides, what vacation are you talking about?! We're here on a mission, ya wanker, a mission, one you shouldn't even take part of! You know how many americans are in this world already? One too many! Which is why you should do all of us a favour and send yer sorry arse back through that portal!"

... what they expected certainly wasn't an argument between two people in uniform in the middle of the hall. One was a shoulder-length red-tinted brunette girl, wearing a uniform the group did not recognize. The other was a blonde with messy short hair and somewhat taller than his counterpart, with a different yet still unknown uniform.

That, until both Petrakov and Roth catched up with them.

"I have a question: the hell is going on here?"

The russian's question was countered by the german's one.

"I have another one: what are the USAF and the RAF doing here? I haven't seen any planes or a runway yet."

"Well, I have a better one: why are the americans here? I thought the only borgar-lovers allowed were exchange students, and they're less than a handful. Though I'm not sure if they are allowed to use their original uniform if that's the case..."

It was probably not necessary to mention at this point that both air force academies' personnel were constantly throwing food at each other, food that, subtly or not, other students were leaving at an arm-stretch distance from them. The stains around the pair were a clear signal that the argument had been going on for sometime now. The last dish thrown was again spaghetti, one that once again found its mark on the blonde russian student.

"Beats me. Wanna take advantage of the commotion and skip the line to get some hot food?"

"Works for me. Let's go."

As the two veteran soldiers slipped away towards the counter where the food was being served, the former pair continued with their little argument.

"Oh, you're breaking mah lil' heart, Mary! And to think that a certain british pilot told her superior that their best woman would not go to the other side if a certain pilot from the good ol' US of A didn't because otherwise you could not fight well!"

The gasp from the observers of the fight was clearly audible, many now locking their gaze at the female pilot whose face was transitioning through all the shades of red known to mankind in a few seconds. Her answer also came stuttering, not really vouching for her defense.

"B-bollocks! That's a goddamn lie! I don't know where you got it from or who told you that, but it's nothing but a vile lie!"

Luckily for her, the hall's doors were slammed open with a loud noise, which made many turn their heads to see who interrupted their fun. Their smiles soon fell off their faces, many hurrying their way out of there.

"What in the holy hell is going on here?!" General Rose Marshall, field commander of the british Lord's Academy, shouted as she walked in at a quick pace. The pair arguing froze in an instant, barely turning their heads towards the interruption of their fight. Both pilots, as soon as they register the annoyed general heading towards them, left the plates full of food about to be thrown and stranded at attention, clicking their heels and carrying their hands to their temples, soon followed by the small crowd around them, with more than one plate being left to fall and crash onto the floor. The european members of Downfall 7, away from the commotion, imitated those further away from the scene and just stood in their position, the japanese crews imitating them out of peer pressure.

"General Marshall!" Answered the girl, Mary. "If I may speak, I was telling this piece of a wanker how he is supposed to behave when on mission! But nooo! He is always messing over here, playing over there... it's so annoying!"

"General Marshall... I was just defending myself, you see? She was the one who started all this mess in the first place, and I'm sure most people here want to eat in peace, but with her screams and shouts it simply isn't possible. That's all the issue." The blonde spoke calmly, in a convincing tone that did little to hide his trembling shape under the hawk-like gaze of the general. It also didn't help that it was obvious that many of the presents were enjoying the argument. The few attentive ones also noticed the cold sweat that broke on his forehead.

General Marshall rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself and end the conflict without resorting to screaming at both officers in the hall.

She couldn't.

"For God's sake ..." she muttered in a low voice, then raising the volume drastically. "... you two! You're coming with me, NOW! And don't you even dare try to escape your punishment, because I can guarantee you both that those fucking romans will be the least of your problems! Freaking hell on earth will fall short on you if I catch you a minute out of your post or disobey me! Now first and foremost, before any formal punishment I can come up with later, you are cleaning this mess that you've made on the floor alone. You have until ten o'clock, and poor of you if this isn't as clear and shining as my office by then because then you'll be in real trouble! Do I make myself clear?!"

After such an outburst, there wasn't much the pair could do to defend themselves. Both muttered a "Yes, ma'am" and excused themselves with a fearful nod and ran out of the place, probably in search of the cleaning tools for their future task. The rest of the hall stared wide-eyed at the british general, who in turn returned them a look that made several gulp and break a cold sweat.

"And as for you lot..." A chill ran down the spine of several soldiers. "Not a word of this." And with that said, she left the building, causing more than one to release a sigh that they did not know they were holding.

Most of the members of Downfall 7 got their food, ate and went to bed in record time, still with the spitting image of the general in their minds. Which was probably a good thing, considering the bad day they had until then.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Kapitán Petrakov, what a surprise. I thought you would be getting drunk in some shadowy corner of the base at this time, considering you arrived back today." The serious tone of the general was cut by the tired answer from the russian tanker.

"Believe me, generál Isakovich, that was my plan. Sadly, there are matters that must be attended to before I can grab a bottle or two from the german kitchen's storage."

"Oh? That's rich. I never thought I'd see you apart from a bottle since that time in Finland."

"Me too, but that's not relevant right now."

"Well then, enlighten me, Khoakin."

Said officer took a couple steps towards the window, from where he could see the evening activity of the base. The sun was setting, and the lights were already on while people hurried their business to be back in the barracks before curfew.

"To be brief and to the point, Levka, we need more european soldiers. Infantry, to be exact."

"Don't you already have a squad with you? A german one, I think."

"Yeah, and commanded by that unterfeldwebel Roth too. I don't have anything against them, they do their job properly. I'm simply saying that they aren't enough. Do I need to elaborate?"

"If you think it helps your case, then go on."

Petrakov returned his gaze to his general and friend, the latter sitting behind his desk in the dimly-lit office. "Our infantry has too few numbers. Other advanced teams have at least two squads worth of infantry, but we only have one since we are, quote on quote, 'reserve', yet are still mobilized the same as the other teams." He took his time to roll his eyes at the word. "The japanese crews are not that trust-worthy right now. We had a pretty demoralizing event this morning, and their morale and combat effectiveness fell harder than Army Group Center during Bagration." Both russian exchanged a grin at the mention of the crushing victory of the Soviet Union during 1944. "They were out for the entire morning and at least half the evening. Roth and I had to improvise with the european troops, that is, a single infantry squad plus the crews of the half-track and my tank, a guard for the convoy, the guard of the house with the recovering depressed girls, treat the wounded civilian, check the village house per house and mark the LZ for the medical extraction. We were really overstretched, and I think I'm being generous with my appreciation."

Isakovich crossed his hands, holding his face on them as he thought.

"Are you suggesting we dismiss the japanese crews? That's political suicide. We're already on thin ice regarding the issue of troops or politicians from the EU overseeing us, not to mention any attempt of the UN to bypass our blockade on their mission to discover what's in this world."

"How are you blocking that again?"

"Security Council veto. As long as the UK and Russia are on the permanent council, the UN isn't going to move much against us."

"What about the americans?"

"Between the US exchange students in european academies and the data the brits share with them, they are conformable for now."

"What about the EU?"

"That's another issue. They won't move much since we have the UK and Germany with us, but the french, spaniards and italians aren't exactly willing to be left out of the spoils of this world. Not that I trust the german leadership that much either way."

"Right. Well, back to the issue at hand... nah, at least the jap crews we have are good enough. I saw them in action in a raid yesterday and they can carry their weight. A little rest and they should be back in proper form." He shrugged. "I'll say it again: we need more infantry. Germans, british, russians... hell, even the few americans in the base work. Just give us some more trained people to work on the ground and we should be pretty much okay for everything except the heavier tasks that require even heavier forcers either way."

Isakovich stared at the russian for a few seconds, before nodding and relaxing on his chair.

"I see. Well, I won't make any promises, but I'll bring this issue to the other generals. Maybe they'll grab some idle squad and throw it in your direction, but I wouldn't hope for any state-of-the-art troops."

"If they can fire their weapon and hold their position, that's good enough for me. I've worked with worse troops, and even with some not of my own, as you must well remember." Isakovich frowned at the comment, knowing full well what Khoaking was talking about. "Either way, I'll leave it to you, Levka. I think I'm done here. If you'll excuse me..."

The captain turned himself to leave the premises, when Isakovich talked again.

"A small question, before you go." Khoakin stopped in his tracks and gave a side-look at his superior. "Why didn't you bring this matter to your superior, Nishizumi or whatever her name was?

"Kommandant Nishizumi is..." Khoakin gave himself a second to think of a proper word, taking the chance to fully turn towards his superior. "...currently unavailable. She is recovering pretty well, she was already back on her feet giving orders during the second half of the afternoon, but she would not make a strong case given her state if she had to negotiate this with another general, say, like Scott from the Royal Guards Academy or Hermann from the Panzer Akademy. They would eat her alive before stripping her of the only squad we have for any reason, or no reason at all." He finished with a small shrug.

Isakovich frowned.

"And what about that german in charge of the Recon Teams? He could negotiate that with other generals as the one in command of all advanced units."

Khoakin's face almost divided itself from the grin he gave his superior, though he managed to control it after a second or two.

"I don't really think Schmidt will willingly ever grant me a request that isn't signing my resignation letter or something very obvious, at least without a general around him." At the puzzled look of Isakovich, he continued. "It probably wouldn't matter to him to sacrifice the japs only to get back at me."

"Why? I had understood that Schmidt was at least a decent commander."

"Oh, he is, I'll grant him that. It has to do with another thing."

"With what?"

"He's a survivor of the Incident, and one of the few officers of the Panzer Akademie left after it. Only reason he is still a captain is because they need people in the company-level officers until some from the next generation reach that commission: as soon as enough people ascend to captain, he's one of the first to go up. Major, maybe even Oberstleutnant as far as I know. Think Levka: why else would a captain have complete control over eight teams, each equivalent to a reinforced armored company or platoon, with several more captains below him without anyone questioning it? Surely that would be the work of a major or something along those lines, right?"

Given that information, it was crystal clear why said officer was given that responsibility without a doubt by the germans.

"I see. Well, I'll talk with the other generals about the infantry issue. Captain, you are dismissed."

With a last salute, Khoakin Petrakov left the HQ on the road to the barracks, more than willing to drown himself in a fair bit of stolen alcohol.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, would you happen to have any beer with you?"

"Beer? Freaking soda water is a luxury right now. If it was already hard to get and smuggle it into the academies back in Europe, just imagine how hard it is to actually get it here when all shipments are scanned by some multinational EU-bulshit commission before being brought here."

"Do you have some or not?"

The teen sighed before taking out a large bottle of german beer, opening it. "You are lucky I have a friend in the commission," were the words of the latter. Both NCOs drank for a while, one finally breaking the silence after a few minutes.

"How have things been on your end?"

"As you would expect. I thank the russians for taking most of the patrols: they have fuel almost for free, we don't. I'm tired of walking from here to there carrying tools all around." He gave a short sip to the bottle. "Don't we have recon units for this?"

"Mind if I join you?" A new face appeared. Roth looked at his two comrades sharing the alcohol, shrugging. "Don't worry, for once I won't report it. I'm too tired for that."

"Then you are more than welcomed." One made a gesture for him to approach, offering a little box to him. "Cigarettes?"

"No thanks, I'll pass."

"Whatever. Klein, you up?"

"Nah, man. I'll pass too. Just give me the beer and I'll settle."

"Works for me." He tried to light his cigarette but found, to no avail, that his lighter's fuel was apparently done. "Aw crap. Anyone got any fire?"

"I do. Here." Roth handed him his lighter, which he got back after a few seconds. The three stood there for a while, having some small chat while relaxing on the quiet night, until Klein brought back the previous discussion.

"By the way..."

""Hm?""

"As I was saying before Roth appeared, why are we even manning those observation posts and going out in the first place? Don't we have recon units for that stuff? They are the most suited for this type of mission."

Roth shook his head, taking the chance to answer as the other sighed. "You know as well as we do that Hausser will only deploy them for a major or critical operation. Low-intensity trips like these won't move her."

"I thought the commander of the recon units was Fleischer."

"He is, but on the administrative level. The field commander was major Fromm, until he was killed when things turned ugly during the Incident and an artillery shell decided to visit his head. Hausser had to take emergency command of them in the middle of the chaos. She is still traumatized by what happened there, including the massacre they suffered."

"How bad was that massacre again?"

"Some say their casualties were around 60%, most of those either dead or too injured to come back. The russians had no mercy when they finally caught them."

"Tough luck."

"Can't the commander of the multi-academic Recon Teams, Schmidt, make her move? As far as I know they're acquaintances, maybe even friends."

"Nah, he'll surely side with her. They worked closely during the Incident, and since then they cover each other's backs."

"Then what about Fleischer?"

"He could, but he won't. He is more worried with raising again the recon elements than with the expeditionary force. Hausser has carte blanche from him."

"Now's when you tell me he has a crush on her."

"Hey, who knows. It may be the case."

The three shared a laugh.

"Changing subjects, Roth, I heard your unit rescued some kind of wizard." Klein took another swig of his beer, Roth nodding.

"Yeah, an apprentice of a magician. Really weird stuff. Horse ran over her, she partly healed herself with some magic while we had to improvise a splinter with some wood and treat with a couple first aid kits. I think we spent all our first aid in two days. Is not even active combat, yet there went some four or five."

"Wait, come again. How many first aid kits did you have?"

"Ehm... five, I think. Maybe four."

"Five." Klein's face was one of shock. "Five." He repeated, turning towards the third NCO present, Franke. "They have five goddamn first aid kits for what, forty men? We barely had like one per platoon!"

"One per platoon...? You are kidding. There's no way the number's that low."

"It's the truth, Roth." Franke sighed, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his boot. "Maybe it's because Recon Teams are made from multiple academies, but, well, you see the difference. It may be because we are fighting roman-wanna-bes, but while we're not missing bullets, we could definitely use some more general supplies from the quartermasters."

"Fuck... shit's worse than I thought." Roth turned his gaze above, contemplating the dark void that was the night sky. "At least food's as bad as ever."

"Heh. Ain't that the truth."

XXXXXXXXXX

Knock knock.

The hits on the door made Miho snap back to reality, turning her face towards the door. She shook her head to awake herself and answered in the affirmative, allowing who she thought would be another european military officer ready to ask her some questions about some small stuff she forgot to add in a report that, admittedly, she already did half-sleep. Big was her surprise when, instead, a very familiar face appeared on the frame.

"Kay?"

"Hey Miho. How's it going? May I come in?" The Nishizumi nodded, allowing the other Sensha-do commander to close the door behind her and sit on the other side of the desk inside Miho's room.

"What are you doing here?"

"You remember that Saunders High wasn't fond of the idea of sending students to fight, right?" The brunette nodded. "Well, that doesn't mean we are going to let you go unsupported. We talked with some of the european military academies about what we could do to help, and they almost unilaterally agreed on transport, logistics and supplies. Apparently, while they may move more money per year, they are on much tighter budgets than we are." She explained. "We offered some supplies including medical equipment, food and fuel, plus some trucks and a few helicopters for transport with students to drive them. They agreed to let us in almost immediately, though going by what I've heard, they will most likely smuggle in alcohol using our shipments."

"Alcohol?"

"Yeah. That's what my brother said before coming here, at least."

"Your brother?

"Yep, my brother. Rick Johnson, american citizen and pilot in the USAF Academy of Texas. Came to Alnus for a joint deployment with some british air academy, probably to support some missions." She massaged her nose's bridge. "This overcomplicated military stuff is too much for me, I tell you."

Miho nodded, barely processing the avalanche of information Kay was giving her. She tried to clear the important information, her brain finally clicking on a coincidence.

"The helicopter of this afternoon was yours?"

"Yeah, we brought them here around noon. Three, I think." Kay raised three fingers, but lowered her hand when she saw Miho's face. "You okay?"

"...yeah, I think I am."

"You aren't." Kay sentenced, erasing her smile. "Is it because of what happened to the elf this morning?"

"How do you know?"

"I told you: my school brought those helicopters. I was helping with the assembly when the radio message from one of your soldiers asking for medical help came in. The engineers hurried their work, but they were still too late. They kind of blame themselves, but I'm not really sure if they are really guilty. Going from what I've heard..."

Kay was going to keep talking, but cut her words at the face Miho was doing. The struggle was clear on her visage, and tears were beginning to appear on the corner of her eyes. The blonde japanese-american closed the distance and hugged her, patting her head.

"It's okay. You did what you could." She told her, holding the now fragile girl. She couldn't prevent a frown from appearing on her: the conflict would be turning for worse, and there was little more she could do to help either Miho or her classmates.

If only the world wasn't so complicated.

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

War Room, Alnus Hill.
D-Day +19.

Two days after that an old man with both gray beard and hair, identifying himself as Cato el Alestan, appeared on the outskirts of the Alnus' Village and recently finished fort, using the pen left by Maho as a countersign for being the magician apprentice's teacher. Reunited with her, she confirmed his story and both were reunited, using the old man's magic together with the medics' diagnosis to quickly heal all the severe wounds of the girl. While still weak and needing support to walk, her recovery was on full speed, shocking everyone who saw her state when she arrived. With the magicians reunited and the refugee's village officially created and growing, the academic generals decided to focus on the next objective: the agrarian city of Italica.

With the intel gathered from the civilian running away from the scorched earth policy of the Saderan Empire, the planning boards of most of the european academies had more or less independently arrived to the conclusion that said city was a priority target, not only because of its closeness to Alnus, but also thanks to its strategic relevance: a major food production center of the Empire, and also in the middle of the road that connected the east and west parts of the country. It was with that in mind that, barely five days after the Recon Teams returned to Alnus, a meeting between some of the generals and the recon team's commanders, plus the two fighter pilots, was called.

With military personnel doing various tasks around them, the officers surrounded the planning table in the middle of the room. Said table carried several elements, the most important being the tokens for the recon teams, the map of the region, and the aerial photos taken by the planes that both pilots used for passing above Italica the prior days, a F9F Grumman and a Gloster Meteor.

"Commanders," began Hermann, the general of the Panzer Akademie. "As you may well know by now, if you've read the files we sent to your unit's quarters, the next big objective of ours in this new world is the seizing of the strategic city of Italica. I trust you all understand why it's important." The officers nodded. Even Miho, having no real prior military experience, understood the reasons behind the capture of the city: severing the food supply and communications was a two-birds-with-one-stone situation that the generals were likely to not let pass after all. Even if she didn't, Petrakov was next to her using the excuse of helping her with anything she didn't know. "With that already established, this meeting will be to design the plan to capture the city. The two officers accompanying us are Squadron Commander Carter from Dover Air Academy and Captain Johnson from Texas Air Force Academy, who will support you on this mission."

"Excuse me, general. Will it be just us? No more support or other units?" Asked captain Meyer, from the 4th team. Several more officers nodded.

"Not immediately. Your purpose as Recon Teams will be to scout ahead the city and check the possibility of taking it by storm with your current means. If that's not feasible, you may call for troops to reinforce your numbers, as well as air support. We will dispatch occupation soldiers either way to keep control of the city, but they won't carry heavy equipment so your call is still relevant."

"Understood." Meyer backed down, with general Marshall now taking a step forward.

"As you can observe, the city itself is not that big for our standards, but it does have a sizable scale for current times. What's important are the fields surrounding it, the source of its strategic importance. Those fields go through many kilometers, and the terrain is also flat. No other known settlements are nearby, save by less than a dozen agricultural villages at some distance." While she talked, her hand moved through the local maps and aerial photographs. "The last bits of important information are two: first, local sources told Recon Team 6 that the local garrison was part of the group that attacked through the GATE, which turned out to be the army that appeared in Flanders. Barely anyone has made it back, so the city is, besides an improvised militia, defenseless."

Eyes flashed towards one another. All the officers of the recon teams present were looking at themselves with glowing eyes, no doubt already creating plans for their advance. For Miho, instead, that bit of data made clear why they were being sent alone towards the city.

"No news on imperial reinforcements?"

"None so far, but our capabilities of getting said information, while not cero, is pretty close to that. The idea of sending the eight teams is precisely so you can answer to any threat that appears."

"What's the second bit of information?"

Hermann answered this time. "Aerial photographs identified what appears to be a camp near the town. So far we haven't been able to recognize its members, and all refugees have declared themselves ignorant on the matter. Don't bother them, but be ready to respond to any attack from them."

"Understood." Schmidt nodded. Finally the third general present, general Ivanov from the Female Educational Institute of St. Petersburg, spoke.

"We will provide all the supplies the recon teams or pilots need, as long as you request them on due time. The operation starts in three days, and you have until tomorrow to provide a list of equipment. That's all." The three generals nodded at each other before saluting the officers, leaving afterwards. Schmidt took care of signaling the pilots to join the group around the table, where he cleared the map of the city with the aerial photos around it.

"Going into more detail," he began, taking out an extendable pointer and using it to signal specific points of the map. "You can see, ladies and gentlemen, that this city can only be attacked on three sides: east, west and south. The north side has a lot of rocks and I don't wish to be ambushed there, and probably neither do you. The city's castle is at the center, equal distance from the three main entrances through the wall. That leaves us with a set of options for the approach and, if necessary, offensive. Anyone has any special ideas?"

"Should we try diplomacy first?"

"As in 'hi, I'm from an invading army and I request to take your city'? I doubt that works, to be honest."

"No, no, he has a point." As everyone turned its face towards Khoakin, he raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Care to elaborate, rat?"

"You want a fight, nazi?"

"C-could we please, go back to the issue?" Miho's plea worked, and both officers, while not saying anything, conceded. Schmidt nodded at the russian officer, allowing him to speak.

"Well, if this is based on the ancient and medieval world, they surely have a custom where surrendered and conquered cities are pillaged after being taken. You know, rape of women, looting, burning of the buildings... that sort of things." Many nodded. "So, if the city is undefended, we can offer them the chance of an honorable surrender: we make no harm to the city and respect its internal government and whatever stuff we have to sell them, and they allow us to take it. If they are truly defenseless, they will nine times out of ten take the offer."

"And that tenth time?"

"They are governed by some fanatical zealot and we have to take it by force either way. It shouldn't be that much of an issue, given that we have what, around a company's worth of infantry plus a hell of a lot of tanks for support? It wouldn't even be a battle before they start surrendering en masse."

A few seconds of silence went by, with the only noise being those made by the work of the War Room personnel while the officers' stares went from Schmidt to Petrakov. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the former noded.

"Alright, that's good enough. Captains Adams and Rosslov, you and your light teams will go first and scout ahead. I want a report on whether or not there's imperial presence on Italica by the time the rest of the teams arrive."

"Yes, sir."

"What about the unknown camp, hauptmann Schmidt?" The question came from one of the german officers. Schmidt shrugged.

"We'll deal with that after the issue of the city is solved. If it's necessary we'll dispatch one light team to keep watch of them meanwhile. Is there anything left?"

If anyone was to say something, that opportunity was lost when one of the headquarters soldiers approached Schmidt, handing him a paper while whispering something to his head. Schmidt nodded and received the paper, which he looked at briefly.

"Captains, some news just arrived. The politicians moved and the generals want us to keep them entertained." He pointed to the paper in his hand, though not showing its contents. "The First Japanese Tank Brigade, or JTB, will be joining us in this operation." Miho's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her nationals. "Some twenty tanks or so."

"Will they fight with us? I'm really doubtful of their effectiveness." Came the immediate rebuttal of one of the presents. Miho wanted to reply at that, but between not knowing who said it her lack of knowledge on how the japanese tank crews were in the first place prevented her from doing so.

"No, I don't think so. They will arrive later. Command is expecting us to take this city by ourselves, so they will probably play more the part of psychological terror as the 'enemy reinforcements' that be a combat unit. This is mostly an infantry issue, so no tanks are not really of any help. Maybe they want us to take some photographs with them after we surrender the city."

The analysis was cold and a bit cruel, but it didn't take a genius to see that it was the opinion shared by all the presents. Schmidt gave a salute and dismissed the officers, who in turn saluted back and left with the order of preparing the equipment and supplies lists to send to headquarters. Miho, escorted by a happy Petrakov at the perspective of finally seeing, in his words, 'big combat', silently slipped back to her quarters.

In three days time, she was going back to war.

XXXXXXXXXX

South Gate, Italica
D-Day + 22
12:00 hrs.

The trip should not have taken them that many hours, but the fact that they were going through hostile territory made them advance cautiously (too cautiously according to some officers). When they reached the city walls, though, they found an unsuspected surprise: scattered corpses and various materials next to them, unmistakable signs of battle as far as the sight reached. Miho lowered her binoculars after scouting the wall for any sign of life, taking note of the fact that, while slightly damaged, the door wasn't forced or broken.

"Maybe the guards are resting?" She thought to herself.

"Better question yet: what should we do? That jackass of Schmidt is waiting for us to do something, after all." Khoakin's comment was much more lively than the entire section of the wall, sitting on top of the Panzer IV together with both Nishizumi sisters.

Further back in the column that was Downfall 7, Roth organized the supplies and the team's members for an eventual forced entry into the city.

"Let's try to enter peacefully with diplomacy. If they are indeed militia instead of military,if we offer them protection we should be able to take over the city before whoever is attacking this place appears again." Miho commented, her hand at her chin in thought. She looked at the russian officer with doubt in her face. "D-does that sound good?"

"Yeah, pretty much indeed." The russian gave a nod of approval before walking to his tank and taking the radio offered to him by his crew. "Downfall 7, we're going to try and enter peacefully. Stay alert and nobody opens fire unless the kommandant or me gives the order or, well, we're toast. Self-defense is also allowed. Roth, you are going with them. Everyone else, 7-2-Actual takes command of the unit as of now, over." Khoakin listened to the various vehicles of the team confirm the orders, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I hate diplomacy."

The armored column began to approach the city slowly, its members' eyes glued to the walls with no sign of life in them. Stopping a fair distance from them, Miho descended accompanied by Hana and Roth. Petrakov, meanwhile, made sure to relay the events to Schmidt's command post, a couple kilometers to the south.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Miho asked aloud as she knocked on the small lateral door with her knuckles. She carried her pistol on her hip while the NCO had his MP40 across his chest on a strap, but Hana was unarmed given her lack of training on firearms (which gave ground for the refusal of command to grant them weapons, Miho being saved due to the fact that the pistol she carried was her own). She had, either way, given Hana light instructions on how to use the P38, in case the need came.

The place was still silent, causing Miho to knock on the door again and repeat the question. This time, though, there was an answer: a small visor, just a thin and short line of the door, opened, showing a pair of eyes observing them.

"H-hi! We just want to talk with whoever is in charge..." Miho waved her hand nervously. Clearly anyone trying to enter a city with signs of being in battle would say the same thing, but they should try to be friendly anyway. She trusted they looked different enough from whatever was attacking the place

There was some agitation within the wall, until finally the door was opened a little, just enough for a person to pass. Miho did not give in to her fear and ventured inside, accompanied by her friend and her subordinate. Behind them, the door closed.

The members of the Seventh Recon Team stood expectantly, praying that the abilities of their members in there would allow them to get out of there alive...

.

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Well, this chapter changed so much compared to the original version that I'm barely able to recognize it (except the final part at Italica's door, that's just cringe). That aside, I hoped you liked this revamped chapter 3: in the original spanish version, it wasn't that much of a good chapter (at least for me). This version, though? Damn, it is quite the impressive change.

I also want to thank the people who helped me with things like the radio chatter and military customs. The quality of the chapter improved a lot because of that.

Not much else to say, I hoped you enjoyed it and review (or don't),RedSS.