A New Posting (3)
The whiskey poured with a gentle glug, filling the clear glass with an amber liquid that glowed translucent in the light. Valentine 30-year. A premium whiskey brand, and among its offerings, one of the most expensive. Lutus Edan stared quietly at the rippling contents.
“They won’t have anything like this at the Graveyard Fortress. Go on, drink. You skipped the victory ceremony to come here, after all.”
Supreme Commander Arthur Philias. Even seated, he radiated the seasoned poise and charisma of a veteran soldier. Lutus dipped his head in a brief bow, accepted the glass, and downed it in a single swallow.
So this was what expensive whiskey tasted like. It burned down his throat like fire, yet left behind a smooth, almost sweet aftertaste. Arthur Philias recoiled in horror.
“Good heavens, man—what are you doing!? That’s not beer you’re chugging like that!”
“It’s alcohol either way. How expensive could it really be?”
“Heavens… truly…” Arthur clicked his tongue at Lutus’s stubbornness.
Lutus Edan. Arthur had heard the rumors countless times. A newly posted officer at the Graveyard Fortress who had racked up achievements at an astonishing pace. In just a few years, he had risen from a junior lieutenant all the way to the rank of general. Rapid promotions were hardly unusual in the Imperial Army, though. The Titans were a formidable enemy. Even when pounded by heavy aerial bombardments and ground forces thrown into the meat grinder, their deathless legions kept coming. Officers and enlisted alike vanished without a trace, day after day, like spilled alcohol evaporating from the floor. In such times, who had the luxury of counting years of service? Arthur Philias, never one for rigid, dogmatic authority, understood this better than most.
“So why did you summon me?” Lutus asked, meeting Arthur’s gaze directly.
When asked what reward he wanted after the victory, Lutus had answered with retirement. He had no desire to leverage his status as a war hero to enter politics, nor to secure a lucrative position in the arms industry. Just retirement. A quiet life in some unknown place, far from everything. Arthur had been taken aback at first, but soon understood. Five years of war had taken too much from everyone. People were collapsing under the weight of their own exhaustion, and victory had not changed that. If anything, the absence of a clear goal now made the future feel even more uncertain. Perhaps even the legendary war hero Lutus Edan was trapped in that same dilemma.
Yet Arthur Philias had no intention of simply letting go of the brilliant strategist and soldier standing before him. That was why he had called him here—to persuade him.
“Have you heard of the Forbidden Lake Fortress?”
Lutus nodded. The Forbidden Lake. A frontline fortress every bit as critical as the Graveyard. Many had died there. There was a reason the once-beautiful name Emerald Lake had been changed to something so grim.
“That used to be my fortress,” Arthur said, slowly sipping from his own glass. “After I became Supreme Commander, I couldn’t give it much attention. Then one day I heard it had been annihilated by a concentrated Titan assault.”
“…”
It was a common enough occurrence. This was war, after all. In more than one regression, the Graveyard Fortress under Lutus’s command had met the same fate.
“Since then, I’ve kept it under my direct command as a personal outpost. It was completely destroyed anyway. No one objected.”
The fortresses were not connected by accident. Even if one fell, the Titans could not breach human territory unless they destroyed the surrounding strongholds as well. Arthur set his glass down with a soft clink.
“I want you to go there.”
“What am I supposed to do at a ruined fortress?”
“We must prepare for a new future.”
His eyes held unwavering resolve. Having lived through dozens of regressions, Lutus understood exactly what the Supreme Commander meant.
“With the Titans’ defeat all but certain, the political situation among neighboring nations has begun to shift.”
They had not been the only ones fighting the Titans. On the fourth year of the war, a reconnaissance drone had detected artificial signals beyond a distant mountain range. Neighboring countries thought long destroyed still existed: the Republic of Bostania, the Svarog Federation, the Kingdom of Wales. Though all had suffered devastating losses, their survival had eased some of the burden on the front lines. Yet even former allies who had fought the Titans together now found old grievances rising to the surface once the common enemy was gone.
“Already, disputes over the division of Titan-occupied territories are causing friction.”
“…”
Lutus let out a long sigh. They had fought so hard to secure this peace, only for people to squabble over scraps of land.
“So you want me to intervene in those disputes? Train soldiers at an abandoned fortress?”
His voice was cold as he rose from his seat. Arthur Philias was a good man, but this proposal was unacceptable. True rest—free of all obligations—was the only reward Lutus Edan wanted. Arthur, however, had anticipated this reaction. A faint smile touched his lips.
“No, there’s no need to get involved in disputes. Officially, you’ve already retired from the military.”
“Then…?”
The Supreme Commander produced a personnel order from his coat. It was a directive from the Chancellor appointing Lutus Edan as Director of the Security Strategic Agency. Lutus could not make sense of it. Retirement had been denied, and now he was being assigned to some department he had never even heard of. Arthur chuckled at his bewildered expression.
“From this moment on, you are the Director of the Security Strategic Agency. The SSA exists within the military structure but operates as an independent entity outside the regular chain of command. Its headquarters is at the Forbidden Lake Fortress.”
“What are you saying…? I clearly requested retirement.”
“It’s the Chancellor’s order. And I already recommended you for the position.”
Arthur’s eyes gleamed. Lutus recognized that look. It was the same mischievous glint Arthur had shown him in a previous regression, when Lutus himself had held the position of Supreme Commander. The matter was already decided; refusal would not be tolerated. Moreover, it was the Chancellor’s command. Even as a war hero, Lutus could not defy the Chancellor. And he knew all too well how vindictive the man could be. If Lutus refused, the Chancellor would surely find some petty way to make trouble.
“Haa…” Lutus exhaled and refused outright. “I still don’t want to do it.”
Arthur’s ever-genial expression hardened. His eyes flashed.
“You have no interest in politics, nor in becoming some corporate executive…” He refilled the empty glass. “You said you simply wanted a quiet life, but in the end, that’s a life without purpose, plan, or meaning. Were you planning to end it all?”
“I was not.”
“Don’t lie. I can see it in your eyes. That’s not the look of someone who has anything to look forward to.”
Arthur’s voice was sharp. “The war is over. Everyone is celebrating, throwing festivals every day. Go out into the streets—you won’t find a single person who isn’t smiling. Isn’t it strange? Just a few years ago, there was no hope to be found anywhere. Now everyone is basking in it.”
“…”
“So why is it that you alone wear the face of a dead man? You—the commander whose fortress never lost a single soldier through years of brutal fighting.”
Lutus had no answer. How could he reveal that he was a regressor who had lived through the past dozens of times? How could he speak of a truth he had hidden even from those he cherished most?
“If you weren’t planning to die, then answer me, Brigadier General. What drove you to this point?”
“It truly is nothing… I simply feel empty.”
Lutus slowly shook his head. Why had he left the Graveyard Fortress in the first place? Because staying there had been unbearable. Every bond he had formed across forty regressions was buried there—every horrific death, every end more terrible than death itself. He remembered it all. He had no choice but to push everyone away. He could not endure that pain again. He had spoken harshly, treated his subordinates coldly. Whenever someone like Leah tried to approach him with familiarity, he had driven them off. Yet he had still saved their lives, even if it meant they lost limbs. Better to live maimed than to die. The Graveyard Fortress was nothing more than a graveyard filled with the corpses of everyone he had ever cared for.
“Just two years.”
“Two years, sir?”
“Serve as Director for two years. By then, our direction will be more or less decided. And more importantly, the Chancellor…” Arthur hesitated, then swallowed his words with a nod. “No, perhaps it’s better not to say. In any case, if you endure for two years, I can guarantee you’ll retire under far better circumstances.”
Lutus was not particularly curious about what discussions had taken place regarding his appointment. Two years was a fleeting moment compared to the five years of war—or the forty regressions he had endured. Perhaps by then he could finally escape the swamp of the past. Perhaps he could wash away the traces left by endless deaths and reclaim the fragments of happiness the Titans had stolen.
Truthfully, now that he had left the Graveyard, it hardly mattered where he went. He stared at the personnel order in silence.
“If you need time to think, you may stay at Supreme Command Headquarters for a while. There are plenty of quarters, and the facilities are far superior to anything at the front.”
Still, there was one condition he had to secure.
“There is one condition.”
“What is it?”
“Process my retirement officially and give me a new identity.”
“Heavens…” Arthur looked genuinely perplexed. “Why?”
“I don’t need the honor of being a war hero. I simply want to be forgotten forever by anyone who knows the name Lutus Edan.”
Of course Arthur could never understand. He was a capable commander, but he was not a regressor.
“Well… that much is easy enough. We can choose any name we like. As for rank…”
Lutus considered for a moment. “Lieutenant Colonel should suffice.”
“Lieutenant Colonel, is it? Perfect. Unremarkable enough to avoid suspicion. Then I’ll take that as your acceptance.”
Arthur extended his hand with a satisfied smile.
“I look forward to working with you, Brigadier General Lutus Edan. Or rather… Lieutenant Colonel.”