Story Reader / Main Story / 27 Aeon Reforged / Story
Report the losses...
After losing contact with the space forces, the command center immediately dispatched an aerospace squadron to investigate.
But soon, falling debris forced them to alter their original plan.
To clear a path between ground and sky, the military had to destroy most infected defensive formations from previous operations.
With air raid alarms sounding from all directions, they had to consolidate their limited aerial forces to intercept the debris, preventing further damage to ground facilities and civilians.
Such losses are expected but unavoidable.
When the sky was covered in smoke and no more burning debris fell, the command center finally received warnings from Ballard's team and saw the liaison sent by the spaceport.
Yes... As of now, the reported losses from the space forces are as follows.
Space station: 1,927 dead, 25 survivors. The station is fully occupied, with a 0.12% chance of reclaiming it.
Starship Fleet: 35,782 dead, 965 missing, 1,729 survivors. All officers above the deputy command level are dead, with an 87% combat unit casualty rate and complete ship destruction.
Spaceport garrison: 1,792 dead, 298 missing, 23,597 survivors. The smallest loss, with remaining modular sections detached and docked with Eden II colony ship.
Aerospace squadron: 9,300 dead, 125 missing, over 80% personnel casualty rate, and over 97% aircraft loss rate.
Additionally, losses from radiation and falling debris caused by the space nuclear explosion are still being assessed...
...
Any other news?
Gestalt's central core has been dismantled and is on its way.
Have the tech department draft an isolation plan immediately. We must make sure this doesn't happen again.
And... the report from Reactor One.
Thirty minutes ago, our 45 monitoring stations simultaneously detected a spike in Punishing concentration in the area.
Within 300 milliseconds, it rose to 20,000 times the original level, and we lost contact with Dominik and his team.
Did they fail too...
No... The command staff thinks they succeeded.
Because in the following 30 minutes, there were no further increases in Punishing concentration, and it is now spreading according to our diffusion model.
Most importantly, no energy reactions were detected in the area after the burst.
The command staff ruled out all other possibilities, so we can infer that Reactor 1 has been shut down.
Commander, what should we do next?
Although the chaos has subsided, this is not the end. This is not even the beginning of the end, but merely the end of the beginning.
With the loss of the spaceport, starships, and the International Space Station, Project Acadia Transfer has completely failed.
While soldiers and civilians mourn their lost comrades and loved ones, decision-makers must step forward to carve a new future.
First, establish quarantine zones and evacuate the masses based on the diffusion situation.
Dispatch rescue teams, determine the Geiger index in nuclear-affected areas, plan safe areas, conduct cleanup, and restart power facilities.
Compile accurate casualty numbers and reorganize the surviving units.
Go and finish these tasks first.
Got it!
After issuing the orders, Hans stands up and walks out of the command center.
The nearby guard immediately follows him, but Hans waves him off.
There's no security risk here. Leave me alone for a while.
He slowly walks outside. Even this steadfast pine tree has bent slightly.
Hans sits alone in the room. He hasn't been back here or slept for days while directing the operation.
He had considered the worst-case scenario, but they still knew too little about the Punishing.
Unimaginable situations led to unbearable losses.
He wants to keep thinking, but fatigue and guilt are dragging his mind to the edge of chaos.
What should we do?
He is a soldier, a commander, with duties and beliefs.
But he is also a human with flesh and blood who is unable to ignore the bloodshed behind the numbers in the reports.
Did he make a mistake? He keeps questioning himself after leaving the command room.
Would different plans or even just adjusting the sequence have led to better outcomes?
They have sworn to pave the way to victory for humanity with their flesh and blood.
But that doesn't mean paving the path to victory with sacrifices is the right thing to do.
What should he do next? How should he face the survivors?
The weighty burdens press upon his shoulders, menacing to fracture this resolute pine tree.
Want to be free?
He opens the cabinet beside the desk, revealing a fully loaded pistol.
He presses the gun against his chin.
Meanwhile, an "old friend" shows up at Trillard's residence.
I'm guessing you didn't drop by at a time like this just for a casual catch-up, am I right?
He nudges the cup of steaming tea toward the other side and sits back on the couch.
How should I address you, Kurono-San?
That suits me just fine.
The other person takes the cup, giving it a gentle swirl, causing the amber tea to ripple softly within the ceramic vessel.
After over thirty years of knowing each other, can't you serve me some better tea?
The person's tone carries a playful demeanor, devoid of any sense of distance, as if talking to a familiar friend whom they frequently visit.
Trillard wears a resigned expression, with a subtle undertone of teasing complaint in his voice.
Unlike you, the big-shot entrepreneur swimming in cash, I only have my salary from the World Government to rely on.
It's been ages since you last visited me. Many things have happened, you know.
The two cunning old foxes exchange knowing smiles.
Since it's a long-awaited reunion, are you here to reminisce about the good old days?
Let me guess. Is it "Project Cthylla" or "Winter"?
The person lightly taps the handle of the teacup with a finger.
Forget about that little business in the past. Not even worth mentioning anymore.
Oh, so you really don't know?
Want me to fill you in on some inside information?
The person places the teacup on the coaster and falls silent.
That's against the rules, isn't it? I don't want to end up in hot water, you know.
Do you really care about all that?
I'm a law-abiding taxpayer.
If you say so.
Trillard takes a sip of tea and then gently puts the cup down.
Well, if there's nothing else to catch up on, excuse me, but I've got a lot on my plate right now.
Oh, really? Hasn't the military taken over the World Government's command since the outbreak of the Punishing Virus?
You haven't made a public appearance in a while as the President of the World Government, right?
The seemingly casual words slither into Trillard's heart, much like a snake's tongue.
It's a special time, after all. Signing documents is more than enough for me. My old bones can't handle the front lines anymore.
The person sitting opposite lets out a chuckle.
Of course, signing documents is also a very important job.
Just like fighting the Punishing Virus, maintaining government operations and ensuring people's lives aren't a walk in the park.
But you and I both know, the more ordinary the task, the more easily it gets overlooked. People tend to remember the changes you made, not the things you maintained.
While they mourn the sacrifices of soldiers, how many actually remember those who toil for their daily necessities?
Even though the latter is closely related to their lives.
Among the seemingly ordinary words, lay the most venomous and contemptuous provocation.
Everyone has their role to play. For us, staying behind the scenes is the best outcome.
Moreover, Hans is my friend. I've placed all my trust in him.
Oh, come on, my friend, cut it out with the old jokes.
The person speaks in a pretentious tone.
People like us only trust ourselves and established facts.
What if we're not the same?
Is this your way of showing humor?
Trillard offers no response.
For us, words are just a curtain covering our true intentions.
What we say never matters; it's our actions that truly reveal our hearts.
If you truly didn't care, you wouldn't be so eagerly pushing for "Project Eden" or implementing the "Hiring Act" to secure your re-election.
For that, we are all grateful.
Does "we" refer to the Kurono Group, or...
Before Trillard continues, the person interrupts him.
The Group and its friends, of course.
Observing Trillard's silence, Kurono-San nods in satisfaction.
You went all-in on "Project Eden", but unfortunately, it seems like you made the wrong bet.
Like I said, people remember what you changed, not what you maintained.
Medical reform? Civilianizing Gestalt? Universalizing education?
You're wrong, my friend. They won't remember any of those.
They'll only remember that the first President of the World Government and the Science Council opened the gates of hell, unleashing the disaster known as the Punishing Virus.
They might not have had the time to settle scores yet, but I'm guessing you've already suppressed quite a few impeachments against the Science Council, right?
Even humanity's once shining beacon of hope can be engulfed by such foolish opinions. What chance do you stand?
Trillard remains silent, not directly refuting the other.
Expecting rationality from people in the face of calamity is a luxury. Time will prove that we made the right choice.
By then, you'll be history, and your reputation and status will have been long gone.
But now, you have a chance...
The person retrieves two kraft envelopes from their pocket.
This is...?
I know transport crafts are causing quite a headache for the World Government. After all, the military's air force is nearly decimated after the failure of the Great Transfer.
Everyone knows this planet is not safe anymore. The sky is the only refuge.
You know quite a lot.
Kurono has many friends.
So, I've brought you a little gift...
He points at one of the envelopes.
And a small proposal...
He then points at the other envelope.
Trillard opens the first envelope and discovers a transfer contract for the air transport service much needed by the World Government.
Where did you get so many transport crafts?
It's not like we have to go to the front lines, all thanks to the World Government's protection of civilian property.
I also have the right to requisition them in the name of the World Government.
At a time like this? No, you're not gonna pour gasoline on the fire after such a major defeat.
Things on the front lines are tough, and the rear isn't any better. You wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea, would you?
Does the World Government still have enough manpower to handle riots?
...
He silently opens the other envelope, revealing a list of names.
After a mere glance at the first page, he sets the list aside.
That's too many positions you're asking for.
My friend, I'm a businessman. Getting to the bottom line of a deal is second nature to me, so don't even bother with your negotiation tactics.
Moreover, this isn't just a proposal; it's an invitation.
An invitation?
You know, there's this old saying: "A smart bird picks its perch, and a wise minister picks their ruler."
The era of the Science Council is over...
But I don't believe the next era belongs to you.
If you sign the contract, it will belong to us—not just me, but us.
You'll still be the big-shot President dominating the world of politics, not some loser that everyone despises.
The change in Trillard's expression doesn't escape Kurono-San's notice.
Even if I were to agree, it's not possible to replace all these positions at once. The President's power has its limits.
Everything will follow the rules, just like our previous collaborations.
Hearing this, Trillard narrows his eyes.
Your reach extends quite far.
Further than you think. In the face of calamity, not everyone is as stubborn as Hans.
With that said, he chuckles softly.
He's like an unwavering pine tree, refusing to bend even when all its leaves have fallen and its vitality has faded away.
But most people are just like grass, swaying in whichever direction the wind blows. That's why we have quite a few potential allies on our side.
So, which category do you fall into?
...
I need a list of collaborators.
Of course, but...
Considering our past unpleasant experiences with broken promises, I would like you to make a globally televised speech as the President first.
You're essentially asking me to make it a fait accompli?
What matters isn't what's promised but what's done, right?
A profound silence blankets the space between the two.
A list of names, a little bit of help...
He slides the two envelopes across the table, presenting his bargaining chips to Trillard.
And your next re-election.
Trillard ponders for a moment before crossing out two names on the list.
I can't meddle with the military; Hans has too much influence there.
Kurono-San frowns, waiting for him to continue.
There's a press conference next month, and the appointment orders will be announced by then.
Hmm... Alright, those two aren't important anyway.
Kurono-San signs his name on the transfer contract.
Once the announcement is made, the transport crafts will be transferred to you directly.
Also, welcome aboard, Trillard.
The person rises to his feet, puts on his hat, and leaves the room.
One month later.
A hard blow lands on Trillard's face, sending him tumbling to the ground.
Trillard!
In the span of a mere month, Hans appears to have aged by decades.
The following day, as people in the command room see Hans with his hair turned white overnight, their eyes fill with concern and worry.
Nevertheless, he only calmly waves his hand, signaling everyone to proceed with their work.
If those soldiers have become bargaining chips for the future, then he will willingly place himself as a wager too.
He won't and can't dishonor the lives lost by succumbing to guilt and avoidance.
He will use himself as a bargaining chip wisely, letting it serve its purpose and die with dignity.
Clearly, finding an easy way out through suicide won't be a wise use of that.
But he didn't expect someone to desert their ground already.
What the hell is going on?!
When those councilors were thrown into prison on false charges, and when Trillard announced the new appointments at the press conference...
Hans was consumed by an anger greater than ever. He never expected that Trillard would be the one to betray them first.
Hans, we need those transport crafts.
But you're overdrawing the future of the Parliament!
You know the consequences once the World Government falls into their hands.
Trillard stays silent for a long time before finally speaking.
Hans, our dream is already shattered. It's time to face reality.
You son of a *****.
Trillard is punched once more, and the bodyguard standing aside can no longer hold himself back, intervening to stop Hans.
Sir, if you persist with this course of action, you will be perceived as assaulting the President.
Do you have anything else to say to me?
Trillard remains silent.
Let go. I can walk on my own!
Hans turns to leave the room, with the door slammed shut behind him.
At night.
After giving his final instructions, Trillard dismisses the young man in front of him.
He retrieves some tools and starts meticulously cleaning this room where he has dedicated nearly twenty years of his life.
He is being incredibly thorough, leaving no corner or shadow untouched.
After sweeping away the dust from the floor, he proceeds to wipe the bookshelves...
It's not until all the windows gleam with clarity that he finally sinks back into his chair, gently rubbing his aching back.
Phew... After the cleaning, it shouldn't get dirty again for a while.
As he gazes at the moonlight streaming through the window, for some inexplicable reason, the memory of raising a toast with Hans floods his mind.
To tomorrow.
To tomorrow.
He never forgets the exhilaration of gazing at the stars; at that very moment, he realized that this was the cause he would dedicate his life to.
He wants to lead humanity out of the solar system and continue writing their legend in the universe.
He wants to leave a glorious mark on history instead of fading away into its annals of oblivion.
...
He wants to explain to his best friend, to bid a dignified farewell.
But he can't...
For that seemingly casual promise has always been his guiding creed.
I can assure you, though, that I'm not being entirely selfish here. I've always placed the World Government above myself.
The man, accustomed to wielding lies as his weapon, chooses to hide his true feelings even at the very end.
This age doesn't need another mediocre politician, but I can still do something for you.
He pours out the long-prepared red wine and raises a toast to the moon.
To tomorrow.
The red liquid in the glass is downed in one gulp.
The following day, the Control Court received a comprehensive report, outlining the President of the World Government's crimes of corruption and bribery, accompanied by compelling evidence.
When the members of the Control Court broke into Trillard's office, they found him already dead.
The wine glass beside him tested positive for cyanide, consistent with the presumed cause of his death.
Meanwhile, the evidence presented in the report was verified as authentic.
Trillard was promptly expelled from the World Government, and those whom he had wronged were soon released and reinstated to their rightful positions.
The substantial assets under Trillard's name, of unknown origin, were all confiscated, including a significant number of transport crafts.
If Trillard were still alive, the masterminds behind the scene would have countless ways to coerce him into recanting and disclosing the identity of the anonymous report sender.
But with his death, they could do nothing to a dead person despised by the whole world.
That day, Hans locked himself in his office for a long time.
That day, the Purifying Force sprang into action, and Ballard nearly crushed the terminal in his hand as he saw the long list of names.
Move out! Time to root out the tumors of corruption!
Trillard's scandal has ignited a worldwide uproar.
However, just three days later, no one pays attention to the dead former president anymore.
The Acadia Evacuation...
...Is starting.
