Even as an incomplete frame, Rosetta holds her own. She slices through Dulova's bullets with precise strikes, then exploits the frame's high-speed flight capability to close the distance in a blur.
Your crusade ends here, Dulova! For every life fighting on the other front.
...Damn it!
With a final strike, Rosetta drives her blade into Dulova's frame. Dulova reels, balance shattered, and crashes heavily into the skeletal remains of the building at her back.
Cough... If only the bionic whales had all returned...
So it was you! You called them back!
Regaining her balance, Dulova fills the air with a massive volley of bullets aimed at Rosetta.
Spare me the theatrics! You saw the devices yourself!
While projectiles erupt from hidden ports in her frame, she herself closes the distance in a burst of inhuman speed.
Targeting the joints!
The light sword strikes Dulova's massive claw with a piercing shriek of splitting metal. She staggers but doesn't fall; instead, spike-like mechanisms shoot from beneath her body, digging into the ground to arrest her momentum.
Cough... To think a lab specimen would turn her teeth on me...
Specimens, all of you! Wondering why my frame resembles Amberia's?
After her failure, we ran experiment after experiment, until we perfected a stable modification protocol!
Correct. Every captive became data. And that data built the foundation for the enhancements of us Frostheart Warlords.
A pity, really. With more subjects... more patriots... we could have achieved far more.
The battle rages on. Rosetta grows more attuned to her frame, her evasive maneuvers and laser counterattacks merging into a seamless, lethal dance. Dulova, in stark contrast, abandons all finesse. She relies purely on overwhelming power, pushing her frame so hard its surface glows with the ominous red of overload.
What gives you the right to treat lives as data? How many never left your lab?!
Before the Union's destiny, they are statistics. Once Amalgamators and humanoid-hybrids are realized, every sacrifice will be sanctified as glory!
This is the moment. Seizing it, Rosetta ignites all thrusters and drives directly into Dulova's defensive spikes. The clash instantly becomes a primal contest of raw strength.
No one asked for this glory! No one wanted to be your sacrifice!
As the Arctic people, our only purpose is to serve the Union's ascent. Everything else is sentiment.
It's this arrogance that has brought the Arctic to such—
These are growing pains, Forest Guard. History belongs to the victor. When the Union unifies the world, every "failure" will be remembered as noble sacrifice.
For our fallen, you should be fulfilling your purpose, not hindering it!
My purpose...
...is to end your schemes, Dulova!
What...?!
In the split second before their power balance breaks, Rosetta accelerates upward. Dulova lunges, and meets empty air. Before she can recover, Rosetta hurls one light sword, pinning Dulova's massive claw to the ground, while the other—
—spears straight through Dulova's humanoid torso.
So... in the end, time defeated me.
Through the M.I.N.D. connection with Rosetta, you sense a quiet ebbing from Dulova's form: her life force, nearing its end.
Puff... You're going to tell me I was wrong again?
...
Rosetta's eyes widen, mirroring your own surprise. But Dulova's core systems are destroyed; she will offer no more answers. The red light within her frame dims, flickers, and fades—and with it, her presence. Her body goes still.
Hmph...
There is little joy for victory after the battle, only a heavier silence filled with new questions. But hesitation is a luxury you cannot afford now.
—Scout, report status and establish connection!
Multiple squads have neutralized their target units! We'll be establishing a forward base here shortly. Comms are live!
Though the majority of the Forest Guards have been deployed to support various regions, they left behind a small squad for intelligence relay and emergency response.
Seeing the communication channel open, Rosetta takes a deep breath.
Dulova, one of the Frostheart Warlords, has been defeated. Her coastal sector is secure.
This victory belongs to the alliance forces! It belongs to us!
In war, the news of victory always stirs the heart. It is the moment when sacrifice bears fruit, a fleeting warmth that makes even the bitter wind and snow feel like a celebration.
And in the next breath, a cheer erupts, rippling through the entire city district.
Palma, they've taken their objective.
Now, the rest is on us!
The sound of distant cheers washes over the battlefield, where Dark Aries remains locked in combat with Rumyantsev. Elsewhere, Fyodor's failed ambush has backfired, leaving him encircled by ARU troops.
Sounds like Dulova's finished, Fyodor.
So it would seem...
The battle is still a whirlwind of violence, but on the strategic board, the opening gambit is already over, and the outcome is clear.
Then I suppose we'll have to be the ones to flip the board.
What?
Unfazed by the shifting tides of battle, Rumyantsev presses his assault against Noan once again.
Noan, already accustomed to his opponent's unpredictable rhythms, meets the attack squarely. His Rev Blade intercepts the blow with a sharp clash.
Heh!
I must say, ARU soldiers never cease to impress. Bringing out anti-tank weaponry to demolish a building... you've certainly broadened my horizons.
I just used what I had on hand! I won't let you lay a hand on Babylonia's commandant! Everyone, press the attack!
Yes, sir!
Fyodor closed in, but his ambush was caught at the last second by Antonov. In a split-second decision, Antonov fired at the structure beneath him, destroying Fyodor's footing and sending him staggering.
As a result, the bullets from Fyodor's gun streaked harmlessly off course.
Quick thinking, I'll give you that. But don't think it's enough to stop the Frostheart Warlords. Rumyantsev, our target is that Babylonia commandant!
Perfect timing. I'm just getting warmed up.
In war, disabling the command system is always the fastest path to victory, a truth both the alliance forces and the Warlords know well.
Upon receiving the order, Rumyantsev drops into a sprinting stance. His skin begins to glow, its color shifting from green to a vivid, charging crimson.
That's enough. All units, fall back!
What?
Just as Rumyantsev prepares to sprint, Simon's voice—magnified by field amplifiers—rings out. In perfect sync, the alliance soldiers pull their pins and release a volley of combat grenades.
This is...
The canisters hit the ground and rupture, blanketing the area not with shrapnel, but with a dense, multi-compound smoke.
You think smoke will save you? Charge!
Rumyantsev halts his energy build-up and storms into the haze. Expecting impact, he meets only vacant space. The roar of collapsing concrete and twisted steel echoes around him; he has barreled straight through a derelict building.
Fyodor samples the air, catching smoke on his fingertips. His eyes sharpen, but his mouth curves into a knowing, devious smile.
Well played.
