Story Reader / Interlude / Blue Bird / Story
'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.'
A chirping white dove ascends from the thorns, taking Liv back from the painful memory.
It flaps its wings to fly away, but ends up getting caught in the crimson Punishing waves.
More volatile emotions flow in among the memory data and more spikes pierce through Liv's body. The moment a memory block is filtered, thousands more will enter her M.I.N.D. She becomes a vessel of every living thing in the world.
God never showed any mercy to these struggling lives.
Black tears run down Liv's cheeks as millions of howling miserable souls emerge from her body.
But Liv cannot stop. She only waves the scepter to bring more Punishing into her M.I.N.D.
She takes in everyone's pain equally, is crucified to death, then resurrects again. The cycle continues.
When her M.I.N.D. is almost inundated by the never-ending Punishing waves, the dove suddenly breaks away.
Another data connects to Liv as the blood-soaked dove screeches.
The four-wheel drive suddenly brakes hard, throwing my body forward. My broken arm squeaks and sparks as I push with it. The medic sitting next to me flinches. He looks disarrayed and shocked.
****, what are you doing?!
Swearing out loud, I twist the half-broken mechanical arm back and look at the driver.
Oops, sorry, Yelena. A bird suddenly hit my window...
I see the wiper pushing aside the blood-soaked corpse of a pigeon, leaving stains on the windscreen.
Pigeons are a symbol of good news. A dead pigeon can't be good...
When's your Ark coming, huh? The world is going to end.
Just keep going. The earlier we arrive, the sooner we can get the supplies.
I stop Charlo's ranting. He barely survived the last battle but lost both legs, and is now extremely grumpy. I don't want him to hurt the feelings of my only medic left; I still need him to take care of the other dozens of human soldiers on my team.
The vehicle starts running again. It's all quiet in the cabin except for the occasional moaning of wounded soldiers.
After a few hours, we finally arrive at the nearest camp from the battlefield. Only the medic and a few soldiers remain unhurt from the terrible drive. I jump out of the vehicle and ask a few sentinels to help.
Someone's wounded! Medic!
The soldier turns to the camp and shouts.
Where's your commander?
A man with scars and a rank slide comes at me and nods. I contacted him when my squad retreated from the frontline. According to the order I received—from the World Government—I need to regroup here, and help him do some training if possible.
Bill, Lieutenant. Greetings, Officer Yelena, your supplies are all ready. We are short of medics at the frontline, so I am hoping you can give ours a little training. They don't have a lot of combat experience.
He pauses when he sees the sparks on my arm.
Your arm...
The World Government sent you special medical packs in advance, didn't it? That will work for me.
He continues to gaze at me with suspicion, trying to find out the difference between me and normal humans.
Machines like me... Or, using the proper name, "Constructs", are yet to be deployed on a large scale. I'm not surprised at his attitude.
Alright... I'll send someone to get it for you.
He walks away. With an arm hung in a sling, I look around the camp in boredom.
Many young soldiers, obviously rookies, are sneaking at me like high school students.
A few medics are standing around the wounded soldiers, giving them morphine and antibiotics in a spin. Back in the Golden Age, they were still kids. Now they have to protect their homeland in doomsday.
A white-haired medic catches my attention. Unlike her panicking peers, she just half-kneels next to Charlo's (the guy who lost his legs) bed, holding his hand.
Charlo looks furious and is screaming in despair. Someone must have touched his nerve again.
He is the worst type of patient to medics, at least to me. If it's me, I will probably punch him in the face to shut him up. We are always short of time in war. I don't need more negative emotions to remind me how screwed up this world is.
The medic does not touch his wounds but holds his hand instead. She seems to be calming him down with gentle words. Like a pediatrician, she is soothing Charlo's emotions with a kind smile and great patience.
I can't hear what she is saying, but Charlo does calm down. The man sobs like a child before his mother, giving the medic a chance to inject a tranquilizer. Her action is gentle and firm but way too slow. I'd have given her a dressing-down for days were she my student. She must have never been to the frontline.
She takes a long time to treat Charlo—I could have treated five soldiers in that time—then stands up and looks at the other wounded with visible compassion. Surprised, I even begin to think that she is a believer. I have seen many soldiers with faith, but never one with such a kind and gentle expression.
The emotions I see are usually anxiety, grief, despair, or indifference.
Excuse me, Ma'am... Lieutenant asked me to deliver this medical pack...
A gloomy-faced soldier interrupts my thoughts. He can't even finish his sentence without stuttering. I take the medical pack, hoping they don't give this guy to me in the training.
Well, Gloomy Face and the frail medic both end up on my team. Lucky me.
It's hard for me to not remember them, for they are always the worst performers in every training class of mine.
To be fair, the medic isn't that bad. She passes most courses adequately and is quite smart. The problem is the medic course. Though she pays great attention to details, she is way too slow. Besides, her fitness and shooting scores are atrocious—just a tad better than Gloomy Face.
By the time she finishes running 10 laps, all the other soldiers have finished their training and lunch. Every time when Gloomy Face is already half-dead and lying on his back, she would just keep running with a pale face and blue lips, as if she can pass away any second.
She was probably a princess who rarely did exercise before the war. I ask her to train her endurance first; I don't want her to drop dead half-way.
3.2!
A soldier is shouting out the results of the precision shooting exercise. The medic is standing straight with her lips pursed. I wish her results are half as good as her seriousness.
Yarha! Urgh...
Probably a miss. He's been looking everywhere for the bullet hole.
Out!
Gloomy Face looks at me, embarrassed. There is an appeal in his eyes.
Don't give me that look. I'm not the one who will kill you on the battlefield. Maybe you can start practicing how to beg those Corrupted for mercy.
There is scattered laughter from the soldiers. I raise my voice.
You think you are good, huh? Show me! Does anybody fancy a freestyle fight?
Perhaps my steel arms are too much of a deterrence. All the soldiers look down, nobody dares to reply.
I can't believe we have to rely on you cowards to save Earth! Don't you know what you have on your shoulders? You are soldiers! And you better **** act like one!
I stride along the line, staring at every one of them.
Squad 18 needs a break. And you will head to the frontline next. Have you not seen those soldiers?
Most of them still keep their heads down, too afraid to look me in the eye.
I lost twenty-three soldiers for one base. Have you seen what the survivors look like? Guess what, they are going back to the battlefield with you.
They lost their arms and legs there, but they never put down their weapons! Some crawled and held grenades in their mouths! And they're still going back to the hell that almost claimed their lives. One, two, three, or four times, we go back as long as we are not dead. Because that is what soldiers do!
Some soldiers look away in shame, some look up and stare into the distance. Only that medic gazes at me as if she has something to say.
But what are you doing here? Ask yourself, do you deserve this uniform? I don't care why you came here, but if you're here, you've got to toughen up. Our homeland, our Earth, our family, and our friends are behind us! We protect them with our life and blood!
Who else can stand out if we shrink back? Who else can keep fighting if we give up? I remember every single soldier I lost on my team. Their looks, names, what they like to do, and the lives they have lived. I take pride in them. They die with honor.
I shouldn't let it happen, but I think my voice is shaking a bit. It is the first time that I ever talk about my soldiers after that meat grinder battle.
I hope you can also make me proud.
I wave them off and walk away without looking back.
Later in the night, the medic comes to me when I'm doing maintenance of my frame in my room.
Officer Yelena... Sorry to disturb you so late...
She stammers and blushes, almost making me feel that she has a crush on me.
What is it?
I'm the medic of Squad 6... Can I ask you a few questions?
Say it.
My training results aren't very good... I'm worried that I can't help the soldiers with my performance. This really troubles me...
She is shy but genuine. I look her in the eye and can feel she is seriously concerned.
I know it's not nice to disturb you in your personal time... But I really hope you can show me how I can do more.
I was thinking that she wanted to talk about the fear of death, or ask if she could go home. I have realized my mistake, and I respect her resolution.
I immediately change my attitude.
Just follow the training schedule and do your best. Everyone has different physical conditions. Passing the military service requirements only means you have met the basic standards, not that you are great at fighting.
I see... But, Officer...
She lowers her head. I sense sorrow in her voice.
I know we are heading to the frontline soon, and I won't have much time to improve. It's my fault for not working hard enough...
She seems to have struggled a lot inside. When she finally looks at me again, I see her determination.
The wounded soldiers you brought back... I have never seen anything so horrifying and tragic. I think I'm not good enough for the real battlefield, so I'd like to do something... I want to do anything as long as it helps our battle.
I think for a while.
I see. Your biggest problem right now is the lack of experience. Your stamina, overall combat abilities, and reflex are also sub-par.
I... Is that so...? Sorry...
I watched your training. Every time you had to treat a wound, you always did the full procedure. Given the chance, you'd even wash the dressing! This is a war, not a clinic. You must give up the unnecessary steps. Only life matters, everything else can be sacrificed.
Speaking of it, your technique looks like that of a professional. Have you learned it before?
...My father runs a medical group, so I knew a thing or two about it...
She sounds a bit hesitant, so I change the topic.
You must increase your speed. Remember which wounds can be fatal, which ones are not, and which ones can significantly hinder the movement of soldiers. I will design your training accordingly.
Change your fighting style. It's too soft now. Never make a decision that you may regret on the battlefield.
Understood.
Medics keep an army going. The Corrupted will not choose their opponents, so you have an equal chance of being attacked just like other soldiers. It's important to keep yourself alive, but you can't fight.
Um... What should I do then...
Run. If you can't beat them, just run as far as you can. Don't let the Corrupted touch you.
Of course, I'm not asking you to flee.
You must learn the attacking styles and logic of the common Corrupted. They can't think, but most ordinary machines will attack according to their default program logic, so there are patterns. I have outlined the general guidelines, make sure you remember every response for different situations.
I see.
One more thing. If you can't save someone, just let them go.
...
Know your limits and choose the plan with the highest returns. Give up one, you may be able to save ten more. But if you are dead, you can't save anyone.
...I understand.
The medic nods firmly. I see determination in her eyes. I like this look better than her blush.
Thank you, Officer Yelena.
Go. I will watch for you.
I pat her on the shoulder and watch her go away.
I spend the next month training the soldiers. They begin to get on the right track. I don't have time for that medic, but she manages to catch up with the rest.
Occasionally, I would patrol the camp after a day of training before curfew. Right now, I'm standing in a dormitory room.
Who did this?
The bed in front of me is a mess. The water bottle on the bedside table originally had a few flowers inside, but it is knocked over with pink petals scattered everywhere. The belongings of the bed owner are ripped open. Dresses are thrown on the floor, among which is an eye-catching, gorgeous white dress.
Nobody makes a sound. All the girls stand in a line with their heads down.
I pick up the dress and feel very puzzled.
Who made this mess on the bed of our princess?
Someone sneers but immediately shuts up when I look over.
I toss the dress away and feel a pain in the neck. This probably isn't the work of one or two, but a group bully. And I probably can guess why looking at the way this bed is made.
The soldiers suddenly look away. I turn around and see the medic.
She is still panting, sweat running down her cheeks. Seems like she just went for a jog. She takes off her cap, wipes her forehead, and puts it back on again. She looks me straight in the eye and continues walking in without any fear.
I realize my guess is wrong again. Somehow, I feel a little guilty watching her quietly walk to the bed and pick the dress up.
□□□, who did this?
It's the first time I call her name. She shakes her head without saying a word. She only packs up her belongings in silence. This attitude is only going to make the bully worse. I must do something.
...Whoever did this, you had the guts to do it but don't dare to admit? Get the **** out before I find out myself!
Ma'am... It's me, sorry. I was looking for something before heading out.
Are you kidding? I thought a bear attacked your bed.
...
She turns to look at me and smiles. Her voice is very calm.
Ma'am, I won't let this happen again.
She looks at the soldiers standing nearby. They quickly look away, ashamed.
I figure out what she wants: to resolve the situation by herself without relying on my power.
I respect her decision and turn to the rest of the soldiers.
I hate these dirty tricks. Whoever did this, do not let me catch you again.
And you, medic. Pack up your pretty dress. There's no ball here. The only ones you can dance with are the enemies of humanity.
Yes, Ma'am.
Her face flushes again, making me wonder whether she can take care of it on her own. I ask everyone to rest and walk off.
But I don't go away. When I see the medic come out to throw the rubbish, I wave at her.
Officer Yelena... What can I do for you?
Show me your hands.
Her face immediately turns even redder.
W... What's the matter...?
She reluctantly reaches her arm out.
I grab her hand and roll her sleeve up. There are red needle marks throughout her pale skin. I even see stitch marks covered under the gauze sponge.
...Ma'am...
I saw the marks on the back of her hand, but didn't expect her to go so overboard.
What are you doing?
I was just... practicing...
She takes back her arm and pulls the sleeve down.
I can find the spot faster now. I also know how to make it hurt less...
I asked you to train hard, not on yourself! How smart, huh?
D...Don't worry, Ma'am. I only use glucose. It won't hurt my body... I found your advice very useful. I'm learning a lot faster from these targeted exercises. With better efficiency, I'll be able to...
I too am a medic, but I just happened to become one. I'm no "doctor" or "teacher"; "fighter" may be a better description. But I can read from this kid's eyes that she wants to save lives. That's our greatest difference.
I feel like saying something, but don't know what to say. I'm never good at sympathizing, but at this very moment, I'm a bit emotional. Why would a kid like her step into the battlefield?
In the end, all I do is pat her on the shoulder.
Don't push yourself too hard. If you collapse before even going to the frontline, all my effort will go down the drain!
Understood! I will not fail you, Ma'am!
Oh, one more thing, Ma'am... Sorry that I brought a dress into the camp...
As long as it's not prohibited, nobody gets to decide what you bring to the army. No one has the right to criticize you so long as you are fulfilling the duty of a soldier.
I meant every word I said. She smiles gratefully, but I feel she is a little sad underneath.
Thank you, Ma'am. I will never do it again.
I'm a soldier now... I shouldn't live in the past anymore.
I have found my place. I will take this responsibility.
I don't know what she is talking about, but I can see her determination. I nod in approval.
We are going to the frontline soon. Now, I will give you your first order.
Yes...?
Private □□□!
I call out her name with all seriousness. Shocked, she quickly stands to attention and salutes. Her cap isn't worn properly, but she does not realize it.
Yes Ma'am!
Do not die.
The next time I call her name, I don't want to be using it as an example in front of another group of rookies. Live on, medic.
The peaceful time flies by. I have returned to the base near the Central Purification Filter once again with my army. Most of the base has fallen, our final defense moves closer to the CPF day by day.
If the Corrupted seizes any more land, the entire zone will fall. We will have to abandon the CPF, and mankind will lose another important base.
It is the first time for my soldiers to face such a dire war. There are a lot of casualties.
I have to maintain the morale with a great deal of motivation and rebuke.
The soldiers charge forward, only to be crushed by numerous Corrupted who are always relentless. They didn't even get to see what the war is like. Years of life, months of training, all destroyed in seconds.
The first confrontation lasted over ten hours. My stupid arm stopped functioning again. I bend my body in the trench and quickly move toward a soldier. One of her arms is mutilated in an explosion.
Take it! 8 o'clock!
I shove my machine gun into her arms and order her to eliminate the Corrupted approaching, then take out a hemostatic patch with my functioning hand to give her emergency treatment.
She gnashes her teeth and shoots, knocked behind by the recoil. I don't hear the sound of bullets hitting the target. A stray bullet flies past my cheek. I feel like my artificial skin is burned, vital fluid coming out.
After I finish patching her up, I take the gun back and bring it to my shoulder. A large machine falls to the ground only steps away from our position, sending dust on my face.
I wipe my face and hear someone calling for medic from afar.
Move over there. It's safe behind cover.
I pick up the gun she dropped and give it back to her, then look at where the voice comes from.
The zooming function of my vision module quickly helps me locate the source of the voice. It's that kid with the gloomy face. He's sitting under a wrecked building, soaked in blood. My fluoroscope tells me he has a broken tailbone and cannot move on his own.
58 meters... No, that cover can't be used anymore. The next closest one is 362 meters away.
I decided to give up on him.
Just as I reload my gun, I see a white-haired soldier leaping over the trench from the corner of my eye.
****... □□□!
I quickly shout to her. She was appointed to stay behind the trench and take care of the incapacitated soldiers.
Get back here! You can't save him!!
She doesn't seem to hear me. Instead, she keeps running toward the storm of bullets.
Get back now! It's an order!!!
She looks back at me.
She only pauses for a second, but a shell from another large Corrupted explodes and knocks her away, tossing her onto a pile of gravel. Dammit! I can still make it. I point my gun at the Corrupted approaching her.
There is zero hesitation in her action. She quickly gets back on her feet and dashes out like a wild deer, heading toward the voice calling for help.
...
I blow the Corrupted into pieces, but more have located her. I can't help her.
There's no way she can reach there.
I can only watch her run rapidly across the battlefield. I never know she can run so fast already. She goes around the unsafe cover in the same route I anticipated. She is sprinting with all her strength, leaving gunfire and explosions behind.
Somehow, all the bullets are missing this frail medic. It's almost a miracle. She continues to run in the center of the battlefield. I swear that I couldn't run as fast when I was still a human.
She soon reaches the soldier. My hearing module catches his desperate screams. She pulls him to a safer location before giving him emergency treatment.
For one instant, I almost forget my duty. I just gaze at her as she does her job skillfully, almost half as fast as me. She must have been doing a lot of training.
I feel like I have returned to many years ago. I remember the first prey I shot with my gun. The first time I punched a bully, knocking him to the ground. The first time I climbed to the top of the snow mountain in my hometown, screaming and shouting—
I think I have smiled. I have never felt this motivated for so long...
It's a cry from our soul, unwilling to give up the impossible challenge.
She quickly finishes wrapping his wounds and holds his hand, comforting him with a gentle smile. This part can be skipped. I must tell her later.
I pick up the machine gun again and shoot down a few Corrupted in front. My heart beating incredibly fast from surging emotions.
I climb on top of the trench, yelling.
We are the Ground Force! Nothing can stop us!
Aye!!!
I know the Corrupted have no soul no matter how vast their numbers are. The human soul, on the other hand, is the most beautiful creation that nature has ever made. We have no limit. We can conquer the universe, and take back the Earth that belongs to us in the first place.
The Ground Force pushes forward as the soldiers roar in passion.
