A Week of Toil and the Omen of Death
It's been a week since I met the commander and arrived in Ruina. If I had to sum up what happened during that time...
It was something like this: meals, work, meals, work, meals, work, and sleep. I spent twelve out of every twenty-four hours buried in tasks. Why was I putting up with this when I had so much planning ahead? Simple. The entire branch was a disaster.
Damn that previous commander...
The now-deceased former commander was a lunatic. Rumors said he shirked all his duties to goof off constantly. He even brought women into his office for hanky-panky. Some days, he didn't show up at all. And then he up and died out of nowhere. The commander and I could only stare in shock at the state of the branch.
No records of where the money had gone. No inventory of warehouse equipment or supplies. In short, no handover—just the malice of the previous occupant left behind.
Sigh... What a waste of time.
Of course, deep down, I didn't care. What did it matter to me if work was piled up? If things were running smoothly enough without collapsing, I could've just left it alone. But I couldn't ignore it, not while playing Leira. She would've fixed the problems. It was unavoidable penance for character consistency.
Still, it's not like there were zero gains.
My role was the commander's adjutant—assisting him right by his side. Drafting documents together, visiting problematic sites in person. It let me build rapport with him in various ways. Lately, we'd even been eating meals together on schedule. At this rate, falling for me was just a matter of time.
"Heh heh heh... The plan is proceeding smoothly..."
Having cleared the workload, I stepped outside for a breather. A cool canned coffee rolled out from the vending machine. Sitting on the bench, I sipped it while gazing at the blue sky. Mm, this hits the spot sometimes. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment.
But then some nearby Valkyries passing by greeted me.
"Oh, Lady Leira! Hello!"
"What are you doing out here?"
"Heili, Nancy. Just enjoying a cup of coffee in the breeze."
"Eek! You remember our names...!"
"You're as beautiful as ever today..."
"Heh heh, thank you. You two are adorable yourselves."
I was pretty popular in Ruina too. Being a capable Valkyrie dispatched from Central Headquarters helped, and solving various issues for them over the week had paid off. I'd gotten friendly with most of the fifty-odd Valkyries. Some even called me "Leira sis" or "Lady Leira." It felt familiar, just like back at HQ.
Ah... I want to be alone. Go away already.
As annoying as it was, it was good for my reputation. Feigning a smile, I chatted with them briefly. They left reluctantly for their duties, and as I turned to head back, I spotted the commander.
"Commander. Out and about?"
"Just came from the infirmary."
"Oh? Hurt anywhere?"
"No. The medic finished inventorying medical supplies, so I picked up the records. As expected... the quantities don't match."
"Ahaha, figures... You could've asked me to handle that hassle. I was nearby anyway..."
"No need."
The commander replied curtly with a stoic expression. It could sound like a lack of trust at first glance, but the opposite was true—which was the surprising part. Making people misinterpret you like that is a talent in itself. I decided not to mention it.
"Speaking of which... You're quite popular."
"Oh, you saw that? Ahaha... A bit embarrassing."
He must've caught me talking with the Valkyries. Not that I was truly embarrassed—I knew I was popular with them. Valkyries were mostly innocent types. Affection-starved monsters who melted at a little kindness. Master a few tricks, and they warmed up fast. Maybe that was hard for the commander.
He let out a low hum, looking glum.
"To be honest... I'm jealous."
"Ah... Um..."
There was a reason for his reaction. He just didn't connect easily with Valkyries. His close ones were probably just me and the Rabbit Hole Squad. Complicated reasons behind it.
For starters... his first impression is scary.
Tall, sharp features. Staring blankly created massive intimidation. Poor conversational skills led to misunderstandings. Plus, some Valkyries avoided men after the previous commander's abuses. The factors synergized, keeping people away.
Lucky for me—no distractions elsewhere.
Hm, but maybe I can use this conversation. An idea sparked as I pondered.
"Commander. Curious how to get friendly with Valkyries?"
"...Yes. I am."
"Heh heh... It's simple. Start by complimenting the person you want to befriend!"
"Complimenting... them?"
"Valkyries are all cute and pretty—they love praise. Ah, practice on me!"
I spread my arms wide, looking up at him. He looked flustered. Probably hadn't expected me to demand compliments after he vented. But I wasn't letting this chance slip. People compliment what they like. Perfect opportunity to probe his tastes. Show me your preferences...!
"Come on, what part of me do you want to compliment?"
"Hm... You're quite... pretty."
"Heh heh, and?"
"The uniform suits you well."
"And?"
"Your personality is excellent too. Befriending the Valkyries here in a week... Impressive."
"...Feels ambiguous. Is this what they call damning with faint praise?"
The results were dismal. No real tastes revealed, boring answers... You're hopeless. Just live boringly. I was about to say enough when he scanned me up and down. His gaze lingered near my thighs, then he continued seriously.
"There... that, on your thigh..."
"Huh?"
"The choker wrapping your thigh... I think it's very nice."
"Ah, uh, thank you. It's actually a garter belt, though..."
Whoa. Didn't expect that. I panicked briefly but calmed down. It looked like ordinary jewelry from outside. Overreacting would be weirder. Composing myself, I flashed a bright smile.
"Thanks. I've been liking it lately."
"Good to hear."
"Now my turn?"
"...Pardon?"
"You weren't planning to hog all the compliments? Give me a shot too."
I'd gauged his thigh fetish enough. No wasting a chance to boost affinity. Confidently, I declared:
"For starters, Commander... you're diligent."
"Diligent...?"
"From what I've seen, no matter how tough, you never show it. I kept thinking, How does he work this hard?"
"No. It was just the bare minimum anyone could've done."
"Not true. Not everyone could. It's because it's you."
In my week observing, he was an idiot. Socially awkward, stubborn dummy. But with incredible mental fortitude. Unyielding when it mattered, pushing forward. My first impression wasn't wrong.
I'm looking forward to it. For real.
Good. Time to press. I took his hand, gazing up.
"And... you see Valkyries as people, right?"
"Uh, that's..."
"No need to hide. Your gaze says it all. You're truly kind."
This was the "I trust you" ploy. Men usually like those who believe in them. Solid reasoning should get a reaction. It worked—he widened his eyes in surprise and gripped my hand back.
"I think... you're kinder, Leira."
"Me? I'm just average... Any reason?"
"...Just felt that way."
"Pfft, what?"
...Wait, did canon Leira say this? Vague memory. I stopped dwelling. Canon didn't matter now. What counted was our current bond. Hm, time to wrap up?
Grinning, I drove it home.
"So, don't get down about not befriending Valkyries yet."
"...Okay."
"And you have one close Valkyrie right here?"
A breeze from the window rustled my hair. His upturned eyes held only me. Feels like a romance scene. Please remember this when I die. I secretly prayed.
"L-Leira! Big trouble! A Valkyrie went missing an hour ago...!"
Late night, after conquering the mountain of work. Back in my room, I leaned against the door, exhaling softly.
"Alright... Let's get to it today too."
Shrug. Jacket off, buttons undone, skirt down... In underwear now, I removed the garter belt. A bloodied gauze pad fell out. The thigh wound had healed completely, no trace left.
Sitting, I pulled a nail from my magazine. Thick and sharp for ammo. Gripping it reverse, I pressed my other hand to my neck.
"First... Trans Tranquilizer."
Crackle. Electricity surged, waves rippling through my body. Soon, a hazy daze filled my head. This was an application of my innate lightning—Trans, dialed down for control. Forcing neural stimulation internally. No clue on the mechanics, but probably tied to my shock-resistant physiology.
Referencing a sedative this time. Head foggy, I stabbed the outer thigh with the nail.
"Hah, hah... haaa..."
No pain. The wound's sting buried under other sensations. But I staggered, gripping the bed.
"This... won't work. Muscles relax too. Falling asleep mid-fight is bad..."
Sedatives dulled anxiety, fear, tension—but caused muscle relaxation, drowsiness, focus loss. Useless for combat.
"Trans off."
Sting. Pain returned upon release. Mildly irritating, but tolerable. Next method then.
Hand to neck again, new stimulus.
"Trans. Runner's High."
Mimicking endorphins—humanity's opioid, pain-forgetting bliss. This could really help in fights... But the current hit, and the world spun wildly.
"...Huh? Hic, hee... hah..."
Thud. Body collapsed sideways against my will. Consciousness slipped away. Like someone hijacked my body. Drooling on the sheets, I assessed.
Overdid the multiplier...!
Sensory multiplier botched—double the intended dose. Pure bliss doing nothing. Drug-high vibes? No, snap out. This could kill me.
Panicking, I slapped my cheeks, clinging to reason. Barely, I gripped my neck.
"Hng, ha... T-Tr, ans... off...!"
Whoosh. Release brought falling vertigo. Disoriented, I tumbled off the bed, dry-heaving on the floor.
"Urgh... Nearly fried my brain... Be careful with multipliers..."
This was ability research: controlling stimuli intentionally for combat edge. Experimenting with Trans variants nightly. Who knew doping practice could nearly end me? No more mistakes...
Reflecting, I fetched the hidden box under the bed. Stolen meds from the infirmary. Applied to the thigh wound, back to bed.
"Maybe wounds elsewhere than thighs..."
The commander's garter comment surfaced. Staring blankly at the ceiling, pondering spots—then my terminal buzzed by the pillow. Ubina calling. Wasn't she off duty? Curious, I answered.
"Yes, Leira speaking. What is it?"
The sleep vanished. I bolted up, donning my uniform hastily. Prologue timeline unfinished. A missing Valkyrie now? Only one cause.
"It's here."
Finally, my death loomed.