The moment we arrived on the planet, it looked like a desert—no trace of visible water on the surface. It was also quite small, almost the size of an artificial satellite, though slightly larger.

  As soon as we entered its orbit, we were greeted by anti-aircraft fire. The problem was that we were traveling in cargo planes, completely vulnerable to those batteries without any support. For a moment, we thought it was the end… until an enemy bombardment—actually from an allied squadron—destroyed the anti-aircraft positions. Relief washed over us, and we managed to land. Fortunately, my battalion arrived intact, without any casualties.

  Once on the ground, we secured the area. My squad mentioned that their specialty was nighttime attacks, so we decided to rest during the day. When night fell, I understood why they preferred it.

  They were deadly under the cover of darkness: we advanced at night and rested at dawn. A simple but effective cycle. With every battle, their trust in me grew, and commanding them felt more natural.

  At dawn on the second day of our advance, we received a shocking message:

  Zein’s battalion had already reached the capital and had it nearly surrounded. They were just waiting for the rest of the squads. It was astonishing—the plan had estimated a week to reach the capital, but they managed it in a single day, despite their numbers.

  My chest tightened with concern. Knowing Zein, I feared he would do something reckless.

  The following night, I decided to change strategies: I split the battalion into two groups—one would advance during the day, and the other at night. While one fought, the other rested in the transport vehicles. With that rhythm, we could reach the capital in half the time.

  And it worked. In just half a week, we caught up with Zein’s group.

  During the march, we encountered the planet’s native inhabitants. They resembled us but were taller, with purple skin and a whip-like tail. Despite their appearance, they showed no signs of hostility.

  It seemed that the EDI had enslaved them long ago, forcing them to work without rest.

  Witnessing such cruelty struck me deeply. That’s why, as we advanced, we freed every prisoner we found. There were calm days and chaotic days, but we never stopped moving forward. Some of the liberated, consumed by rage and a thirst for vengeance, joined our battalion, arming themselves with EDI equipment they scavenged. Our ranks swelled from 1.25 million soldiers to 1.5 million.

  When we finally reached the capital, we saw it was heavily guarded, a towering superstructure, massive like a colossal city. The troops hadn’t breached it yet, but Zein...

  Zein was already inside.

  He hadn’t waited for anyone. He carved his way through alone, cutting down every enemy in his path. According to reports, he had already swept through most of the structure’s outer zones.

  We waited three days for the other battalions to arrive. That time allowed the soldiers to rest and regain their strength. Yet, an uneasy feeling gnawed at me, an itch under my skin that wouldn’t let me relax. At first, I thought it was worry for Zein, but... it wasn’t. It was something else.

  On the day of the assault, the sky darkened, heavy with ominous clouds, as if rain were imminent. But the weight in the air wasn’t from the weather, it was something darker. A tension so thick it smothered every sound. No jokes, no chatter, only silence and grim faces.

  That’s when we gathered: Kiomi, Miguel, Zein, Alexander, Sora, and me. Together, standing before the colossal gates of the capital... yet none of us knew what awaited beyond.

  We decided to advance in divisions, securing areas as we moved. The first section we entered was an armory, tanks, helicopters, combat vehicles... a fortress of steel.

  Amidst all that weaponry, something caught my eye.

  A tank... but different. Quadrupedal, with four mechanical legs instead of tracks, and an oversized cannon mounted on top. It was smaller than conventional tanks, but its design... strange. Nearby, there was another model, similar but with integrated tracks along its legs, like... an experiment.

  They looked like prototypes. And if these were prototypes...

  What else could be waiting for us in this place?

  A faint mist clung to the air as we stepped into the largest building—a towering, ominous skyscraper straight out of a villain’s lair in some movie. Its dark, windowless fa?ade loomed overhead, swallowing every glimmer of light.

  —?Who in their right mind thought this looked good? —I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm and distaste.

  ...

  My resolve was unshakable: I would find a way to wake my sister, no matter the cost. All of this... was for her. My actions, the consequences, none of it mattered.

  That’s when they appeared. Soldiers, Dozens, surrounding us in an instant. My body tensed, ready to fight, but a voice floated out from the shadows. Smooth and controlled, dripping with a blend of courtesy and scorn.

  —If I were you... I wouldn’t —the speaker said, their tone carrying that private amusement people reserve for jokes made at someone else’s expense.

  I scanned the area—my heart pounding. My entire team, already subdued. Cold barrels of rifles pressed against their bodies. No warning. No chance to react.

  No options.

  With my blood boiling and my fists clenched, I let my weapon drop to the ground and raised my hands.

  They marched us back into the courtyard, weaving through towering supply crates and armored vehicles. Then... he emerged from the shadows.

  Tall. Lithe. Oozing an unsettling, predatory elegance. His slicked-back black hair formed sharp, pointed peaks, framing an angular face. A pronounced chin and a blade-like nose carved out his features with predatory precision. Pale skin contrasted with the round, crimson-tinted lenses that veiled eyes no less scarlet. Eyes that, though hidden, seemed to flay you apart, dismantle you, piece by piece. All while his lips curled into a crooked smile that never seemed to leave his face.

  His uniform was exactly as I remembered, an EDI high-command officer’s attire, styled after the SS officers of old. Immaculate. Dark. Intimidating.

  The jacket, tightly tailored with polished buttons, traced every sharp line of his slender frame. A high, stiff collar clasped his throat, further accentuating his gaunt neck—giving him an even more sinister air.

  He moved like an actor on stage: every step fluid, measured—a performance of refinement laced with threat. His long, angular body, with limbs stretched unnaturally, gave him the eerie grace of a marionette pulled by invisible strings. His hands—bony, with unnervingly long fingers—seemed made to crush hope with a mere squeeze.

  With chilling elegance, he bowed before us, as though unveiling the opening act of a grand play. One arm extended forward, the other tucked neatly behind his back.

  The curtain had risen.

  And we... were his audience.

  —Allow me to introduce myself. I am Azariel Argenzia, eighth son of the Argenzia royal family, under the command of Lord Abyron.

  —Well, aren’t we formal? Really brings out your stupid face —I shot back, layering every syllable with dripping sarcasm.

  —You’re hardly in a position to make such remarks, Zein.

  —Well, well... at least you know who I am.

  —Of course. I’ve been expecting you. A good host should always know his guests.

  —Aw, shucks. We’re flattered.

  The air went still. The banter faded, leaving behind only silence and uncertainty. We had no idea what he planned next, but I knew one thing—if I saw the slightest opening... I’d strike without hesitation.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  —Enough pleasantries —Azariel’s voice dropped, cold and cutting—. I know why you’re here. I know what you did on Earth.

  His eyes flicked suddenly to Sora, his tone laced with disdain.

  —And you, Sora Verdant... you truly disappoint me. After everything I did—every string I pulled to grant you command of the invasion—this is how you repay me? By... joining them?

  Sora’s jaw tightened, his eyes shifting away. Guilt hung on him like a heavy cloak.

  —Very well —Azariel straightened, his smile sharpening—. I suppose I’ll have to kill you all, so the Empire may continue its rightful expansion.

  —Wait —Naoko’s voice rang out, calm but troubled—. Can I ask you something first?

  —Go ahead —Azariel replied, his amusement barely concealed.

  —Why do you always call it an Empire... when, according to your own records, it’s officially named the ‘Democratic Imperial State’?

  —I'll do you the courtesy of answering your question... before you die —he turned, clasping his hands behind his back—. That name was crafted to mask the true nature of an empire—dressing it up to seem more democratic, more... acceptable. But those who are older, or more versed in this nation’s history, call it by its true name—the name that holds the weight of memory.

  —And... could you tell me what that name was?

  —Gro?es Reich der schwarzen Sonne.

  He turned back to face us, his lips curling into that ever-present, venomous smile.

  —Enough chatter. Let's get to the point.

  He gestured, and soldiers seized Alexander, dragging him forward.

  —What are you doing!? —I shouted, surging forward, but stopped cold when a weapon pressed to Sora’s head.

  —Nothing... —Azariel’s voice was silk dipped in poison—. I simply want to see how much you can endure. How much self-control you really have.

  They forced Alexander to his knees, shackling his hands to the ground. Helpless. Immobilized. His eyes met mine—calm, but burning with defiance. My body screamed to act—to fight. But if I moved... the others would die.

  I was trapped. Think, damn it!

  —Let’s see, Zein... Let’s see how long you can watch... before you completely lose your mind.

  Azariel circled Alexander, like a predator savoring its kill. And then—CRACK!—the first blow.

  Alexander’s body jerked, but he stayed upright.

  Another. And another. Each hit, bone-crushing and merciless. Alexander endured—his teeth clenched, his breath ragged. But the hits kept coming, brutal and methodical. His body began to break, trembling under the onslaught.

  Then—they appeared. Mages, their hands glowing with an ominous energy. Spells laced with raw power surged into Azariel.

  The result was monstrous.

  The next blow sounded like a thunderclap. Alexander’s body crashed to the ground, blood spraying from his mouth. He gasped, barely clinging to consciousness. And Azariel...

  Azariel smiled.

  My blood boiled—pure, searing hatred coursed through me. I wanted to rip him apart, tear him limb from limb until that smile was gone—forever.

  —Oh, by the way... —Azariel spoke casually, his fists still breaking Alexander—. I know you're here for more than just... liberating this planet. You’re searching for something... Information.

  His gaze flicked to me.

  —About your sister’s illness.

  My heart stopped.

  —Yes... I know all about it. In fact... I’m the one who ordered you all to be poisoned. —His voice, soaked in amusement, was a dagger to my chest—. Though... I’ll admit... what happened to your sister was... a happy little accident.

  Crack. Another blow.

  —But I must say... that accident turned out to be... quite fruitful.

  The blood pooling beneath Alexander painted a dark circle around him. And that smile—Azariel’s disgusting, twisted smile—burned itself into my soul.

  A smile that made me want to vomit.

  A smile... I would wipe from his face.

  I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  —Fuck this! —I roared. If I was going to do it, it had to be now. Now or never.

  I launched myself at him, but Azariel reacted instantly, materializing a sword of pure light. I swung both of my blades, aiming to cut him down—CLANG!—but he blocked effortlessly. Then, in a single swift motion, he sliced through my swords, leaving them useless shards.

  Damn it!

  No time to think. I went straight into hand-to-hand combat.

  —How delightful —he mused, dodging my strikes like it was a mere dance—. So this was your limit before losing control.

  The harder I pushed, the faster he moved. The more attacks I threw, the easier he evaded them. And every failed attempt was met with a precise, punishing counter.

  I was slowing down. My body was failing me.

  I collapsed, gasping for air.

  Somewhere, deep inside, a twisted part of me felt relief.

  He hadn’t touched the others.

  It was as if he knew that, sooner or later…

  …I would attack him.

  And at that moment, I landed a hit.

  It was weak—too weak. A mere brush against him. I had thrown everything I had into my strikes, and yet… it was barely anything.

  —Is that all? How disappointing.

  With a single, devastating strike, he sent me crashing to the ground.

  I barely had time to breathe before two soldiers seized me, locking my arms in place. Just like before.

  Azariel stepped forward, grabbing Alexander by the head and lifting him effortlessly.

  —I've heard… that people can unlock their true potential in the face of rage. —His voice dripped with amusement—. Or… they can simply crumble into despair.

  —What the hell are you talking about?

  —Let’s see how much I can squeeze out of you.

  And suddenly—

  I was there.

  That place.

  Water stretched beneath my feet, but unlike before, it wasn’t clear.

  It was red.

  A deep, crimson hue, reflecting the eerie glow of the dim light above. The air felt heavier, suffocating, as if the very space around me was alive.

  And it was waiting.

  Waiting for me.

  I was on the ground.

  Lifting my gaze, I saw it—that shadow. The figure that had haunted my dreams so many times. A formless shape, wrapped in darkness, with hollow, white eyes that stared into nothingness.

  —Had your fun already? —it spoke, its voice grating and insufferable, crawling under my skin.

  —I thought you were just… my imagination.

  —Heh... If only. I’m a reflection of your soul... or something like that. Honestly, I don’t even know myself. —It started circling me slowly—. So… I don’t think I need to remind you about our deal from back then. Or do I?

  —I remember it perfectly.

  —Good… Then you know. You know that if you don’t do something… that will become reality.

  —But I’ll never let you take control. I saw what you did in that dream. Never again.

  The figure paused, as if savoring my defiance.

  —Oh… Seems you really don’t like what happens when I’m in charge.

  Gritting my teeth, I forced myself up. Bit by bit, pain screaming from every muscle, until I stood on my feet.

  —This time, I won’t heal you, Zein... I don’t have that privilege. But if you just let me— his voice slithered, dripping with false promises.

  —I said never.

  —Hmph... You might change your mind soon.

  —I won’t. I’ll get out of this—without you.

  —We’ll see.

  Just then—

  A door formed before me.

  Without hesitation, I moved toward it.

  But his parting words froze me in place:

  —See you... real soon.

  And with that—

  Reality came crashing back.

  Azariel was still there. Still striking Alexander. Over. And over. The blows rained down, and Alexander—God, he barely clung to consciousness, his body limp and broken, dangling from Azariel’s merciless grip.

  And then—

  I saw it.

  A stain of darkness.

  It loomed atop a building nearby.

  Massive. Unsettlingly familiar.

  Its silhouette felt like a half-forgotten memory—something from the edges of my mind, blurred and elusive—

  But I recognized it.

  Or rather—

  Almost.

  At that very instant, the figure raised its hand, aiming directly at Azariel and Alexander.

  —Wait! —Naoko shouted, throwing herself forward. But before she could reach them, the soldiers tackled her, slamming her against the ground.

  It all happened in a blink.

  With a sickening, wet crack, Alexander’s head suddenly exploded. A spray of blood painted the air as his lifeless body collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

  Azariel, his fist still clenched and dripping with blood, froze in place.

  —I... That wasn’t what I wanted! —he exclaimed, his voice breaking, almost shaken—. Yes, I wanted to hurt him, but...

  He turned abruptly, fixing his eyes on the silhouette.

  —It was him! He killed him! Not me!

  I wondered why it mattered so much to him who had delivered the final blow. Moments ago, he was seconds from doing it himself.

  Even so... I felt grateful to that silhouette—for ending Alexander’s suffering.

  I will avenge you.

  And then... I was back in that place.

  —How did it go?

  —What do you think?

  —See? I was right —he said, with that monstrous grin on his formless face—. Ready to let me take over now?

  This time, I said nothing. I kept my gaze down, crushed, disappointed in myself... and simply let him do as he pleased.

  —I’ll take that as a yes.

  He walked toward the door that had formed before us, and just before crossing it, he spoke one last time:

  —You won’t regret it.

  ...

  Even though I tried to rush toward them, the soldiers stopped me. I wanted to do something—anything—but I couldn’t. I looked at the building, at that silhouette... but nothing.

  Then I saw him.

  Zein.

  He was there, motionless, head bowed. Silent. His entire body looked defeated. I felt the agony of losing Alexander, and with it, the urge to lash out at everything... But was that the right thing to do? No one moved. No one knew what to do.

  And then...

  Zein burned.

  Black and purple flames engulfed his body, forcing the soldiers holding him to fall back. That fire... It was the same as in that dream. Within the blaze, two white, hollow eyes glowed—eyes that reflected nothing... only the void.

  In a flash, Zein appeared before Azariel.

  “W-Wait...” Azariel stammered, his trembling voice breaking into a plea. “I... We... can...!”

  But Zein didn’t waver.

  With one hand, he seized Azariel’s head. With the other, his body.

  And tore him in half.

  The crack of bones vanished beneath the roar of the flames. Holding both halves, Zein crushed them into ash between his fingers. Ash... as if they had never meant anything.

  Then... he looked at us.

  His gaze.

  Empty.

  Cold.

  Inhuman.

  And terror froze us.

  A terror... dry, absolute.

  Even the EDI soldiers stood petrified.

  And then...

  He vanished.

  It was fast.

  Too fast.

  An instant.

  A breath.

  And when I realized...

  I was covered in blood.

  The blood of the soldiers.

  Around me, shattered bodies.

  Blown apart.

  As if the air itself had ripped them from existence.

  While we all stood in shock, Miguel rushed to one of our soldiers, urging everyone near an EDI soldier to get away immediately.

  Over the radio came the most gut-wrenching sounds—sounds no one should ever have to hear.

  We just stood there—some standing, some sitting—without the slightest idea of what had just happened.

  As for me... I was terrified. I had believed all of this was nothing more than a lingering nightmare from the past year.