Dog-Like Helplessness

Transport drones rose and fell from all directions, that damn sense of powerlessness hanging in the air. Military helicopters landed one after another at the management bureau's helipad. White-uniformed generals trickled into the lobby, and rumors swirled that the entire strategic planning office had been summoned. But amid all the bustle, Tiny Bell found herself focusing more on the scene right in front of her.

As she passed the end of the corridor, she ran into a few young regular army soldiers who gave her small nods of greeting. One was practically dragged away but still waved at her, his face flushed pink. It left her a bit flustered.

Childish. They're not middle schoolers.

Until now, they would've averted their eyes and said nothing. But this time was different. She found their boldness admirable and reflexively raised her hand in a light wave. They whispered among themselves for a moment, then let out a small cheer. It was unexpected for them to see the usually oblivious Tiny Bell waving back. Their excited voices trailed her down the entire corridor.

Lucia's enthusiastic propaganda had turned her into quite the appealing figure for these starstruck young soldiers.

Ugh!

Tiny Bell hurried away as fast as she could, practically flying out of the management bureau building. Staring at the central road and park vista, she gathered her flustered thoughts.

What's the big deal?

She opened and closed one hand. Just a little wave from this tiny hand, and that reaction? Watching people get so excited over it felt strangely familiar yet alien.

...These feelings are dangerous. Why now, all of a sudden?

It was hard to pin down exactly what the emotion was. She just didn't want to get involved with people. The outcomes were always miserable.

I need to clear my head.

So, as always, she headed for her private spot.

The old bench east of the main gate, tucked in a small garden-like spot behind the military facilities. It was one of the rare quiet places in Lumen Guard. With all these generals showing up today, there had to be some big meeting, and Eligos would be glued to the Grand Marshal as his guard detail. No one to interrupt, it seemed.

As she strolled slowly along the park path, a familiar voice drifted into her ears.

"Watch it, Lucia. Why are you carrying all this by yourself?"

Kelun's arms were stuffed with books—science, tech, even novels in between. It looked like nothing was missing.

"Ugh, Kelun's nagging again— I can carry them! I walked all the way to the management bureau with this stack!"

"...You mean stumbling along, barely seeing ahead because of the books?"

"That's... 'cause I'm shorter than you."

"It's a miracle you didn't trip. You really that desperate to read all this?"

Kelun found Lucia's bickering oddly endearing. Devouring all these books and remembering every detail for later questions bordered on the supernatural.

Proxies specialized in info, science, and tech are unique. Does the brain's hyper-activation come with insatiable curiosity?

Kelun marveled inwardly at the difference from combat types like himself. He still kept his distance from books, yet Lucia's pile included titles that even scientists might own.

"Uh..."

As Lucia mumbled, Kelun chuckled softly.

"Yeah, yeah, got it. Oh, I read that novel you recommended last time. Wasn't bad."

Lucia's face lit up again.

"Really? It's a classic, famous even back in the old days!"

"Yeah?"

Tiny Bell paused, peering through the branches at the scene. They were already in their proxy uniforms. Kelun looked pretty sharp, and Lucia, despite complaining about discomfort, wore hers just fine—enough to rush over and show it off to him right after getting it. Then again, proxy uniforms had a sleek appeal. Tiny Bell could certainly relate.

For some reason, the two of them looked downright cute. A small laugh escaped her lips before she realized it. But she quickly pressed them shut, like she'd hit the wrong button.

...Why am I like this?

She turned sharply and headed for the bench, flopping down and closing her eyes as the breeze washed over her.

How much time passed? A rustle made her open her eyes.

"Ah, Captain. Didn't know you were here."

His gray eyes held a hint of surprise. It was Kelun.

"Kelun Phrase. Hey."

"Hello. Sorry if I'm interrupting your rest. Should I go somewhere else?"

"Nah... just sit."

Tiny Bell scooted to the edge of the bench. Kelun hesitated, then sat carefully beside her, stretching.

He figured Lucia's room would be quiet now that he'd dropped off the books.

A short silence. Then the wind. Strangely, the space felt peaceful.

Tiny Bell glanced at his profile and quietly spoke.

"Lucia reads a lot, huh."

Her tone was still curt, but Kelun sensed her eyes had softened a touch.

He smiled faintly and looked up.

"Yeah. Makes meals together less boring, at least."

"You eat together too."

Kelun paused at her offhand remark, then replied with a hint of fluster.

"As colleagues. She's got high expectations since we're in the same class."

"You two get along."

Kelun started to say more but closed his mouth. Then, with a slight shrug,

"...Captain. About that..."

Beep. But he didn't finish. The short chime from Tiny Bell's receiver cut him off.

She lowered her gaze and checked the terminal.

She stood slowly.

"Sorry. Things are hectic. Gotta go."

Kelun was more shocked that his captain had apologized to him. Under that direct gaze, Tiny Bell asked bluntly,

"Something you wanna say?"

"No, ma'am. Be safe."

She nodded curtly. Kelun stood and bowed briefly.

As she left, Tiny Bell glanced one last time at the shadowed grass under the bench. Turning away, she muttered inwardly,

I can't get used to this again. This treatment, these relationships, this situation, this... warmth.

The meeting ended, and Chernenko rose without hesitation, vanishing as if the room no longer concerned him. The pressure of his presence lingered in the others' chests. The intel staff scrambled back to operations planning, while Brigadier ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠General Jack William shoved the door open with a furrowed brow.

Bam— Heavy air rushed in.

Thinking he'll keep using that kid to jerk me around... pisses me off.

His fists clenched, quiet anger coiling around him. Striding down the hall, a burly shadow stepped aside hastily.

Jack recognized him instantly, and the man spoke first.

"Whoa, Brigadier General Jack. Looking extra scary today? Ha ha."

Major Ableum Smith of Fraction-6 special forces. Dark-skinned musclebound frame, angular beard. Combat gear topped with a casual bulletproof vest. Not someone to mess with.

He spoke in his distinctive drawl.

"Did our general suck up to the Grand Marshal again or something?"

Jack chuckled dryly. Calling his direct superior that...

"Always so blunt."

"Appreciate the compliment, sir."

Smith was too honest for someone under General Hassel. Jack found it odd they had no major friction.

"As expected, seems your special forces are deploying again for some ass-kissing."

Smith snorted knowingly, stroking his beard.

"Joining Fraction-6 was a mistake. Wanna quit but can't... damn sense of duty now."

He tossed out curses like habits. Jack brushed it off, but some generals disapproved. Yet no one complained. Smith had solid war records and refused promotions. That experience made him transcend rank inside the barriers. Plus, the military's strongest non-proxy force ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was under him, loyal to Smith personally, not Hassel—who exploited it masterfully, like a crocodile and plover bird.

"Still got that mouth, Major. If you wanna discharge so bad, just retire."

"Tell me about it. Country's gone—what the hell am I doing? Thinking coup maybe."

Jack shot him a look. Smith played casual, knowing Jack wasn't exactly pro-military. That's why he could say such wild things. Jack found Smith's inexplicable trust—based on a few joint ops—baffling.

"Won't stop you, but the guard detail would crush your specials. Hell, the Grand Marshal alone might suffice."

Smith laughed heartily.

"Ha, since when do you look down on special forces, sir?"

"Figured it out once I became a monster myself."

Smith smirked at "monster." His boss Hassel had been smitten by Chernenko after fighting together, fanatically devoted now. Understandable—Smith had seen why Jack earned "White Wolf" ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the total war. That massive wolf wasn't human. The brigadier beside him felt distant.

"Teach me how to hunt monsters sometime."

"We'll see."

They'd arrived at the third-floor briefing room of Lumen Guard Central Operations Command.

Lumen Guard Central Operations Command, third floor, briefing room. Walls glowed with electronic panels and tactical monitors, tense like the calm before a storm.

Major Sophie Marso sorted op files calmly and efficiently, hologram system open as she reviewed personnel lists.

Then an observer alert popped up, freezing her hand.

No time to frown—the door opened. Before Sophie looked up, someone loomed.

Golden hair, red armband swaying. Eligos approached with her charming smile, face neither provocative nor meek.

"This op looks fun~ Should've asked the Grand Marshal if I knew Tiny Bell was going."

"The Grand Marshal isn't that idle."

Sophie turned slowly. Eligos's eyes showed little emotion, but subtle calculation lurked.

"No authority to order you around, but~"

Caliela glanced at the papers, then whispered with a grin.

"That face screams you see me as an intruder~? Emotional type, huh?"

Sophie inhaled sharply.

"...Hardly."

Eligos's lip twitched up. They were mere 30 centimeters apart. The air grew heavy.

Then the door opened again: Brigadier General Jack, Major Smith, then the special forces commander. Stein, head of the sci-tech department Ri Siarin once belonged to, followed.

Jack spotted Eligos beside Sophie instantly. Already fuming from Chernenko, seeing a guard near his adjutant soured his mood further. His glare pierced like an arrow, but Eligos waved lazily with one hand.

Tiny Bell entered quietly last.

"Everyone's here. Briefing starts now."

Sophie's calm voice settled the room. Eligos tilted her head curiously.

"Info on Proxy Ri Siarin, where faint survival signals persist."

The screen displayed her profile: search area with blinking coords, small clear photo.

Tiny Bell frowned, then stared.

Ah—damn it.

Something squirmed inside her. Petite build, neat black bob. Always smiling. Her receiver still held Ri Siarin's bubbly Thanks for covering my training!! And those greetings every encounter.

Do your best!! That voice yelling at her back, followed by playful laughter. She was always like that—ending with a smile.

Regret and guilt welled up in Tiny Bell's mind.

Should've replied. At least nodded once. No, it was gonna end like this anyway.

Questions swirled; she muttered unwittingly,

"...Annoying."

A whisper only she could hear. But her fingers trembled faintly.

Was I going about it all wrong?

She squeezed her eyes shut. Sophie caught the shake, pausing her hologram hand, glancing at Jack. He noticed via her look, eyeing Tiny Bell. Sophie advanced the screen a beat late.

"Ri Siarin, designated sci-tech specialized Proxy from Lumen Guard two years ago."

Her smiling photo lingered; Stein spoke angrily.

"Genius in drone hacking, signal jamming, defense neutralization via electromagnetic derivatives. If she's alive, we rescue her. Without her, tech regresses years. Not for nothing she earned Clear Voice."

Bam! He slammed the table—a first for many, drawing surprised looks.

"Why send a sci-tech Proxy on recon? Drone data later would've sufficed. They're not combat."

His mutter carried; it bordered on calling proxy deployment on military ops stupid. Eligos narrowed her eyes at him; Stein glared back. Silent tension brewed until Sophie smoothly continued.

"As Department Head Stein says, unmatched in drone signal extraction, interference nullification on-site."

The room hushed. Jack closed his eyes briefly. That kid always smiling greetings—maybe the last time.

Still, a Proxy's a Proxy. No way she'd fall that easily in general sectors. What the hell.

"Op objectives: two-fold."

Sophie pressed on.

"Confirm survival and rescue. Identify threat that wiped the recon squad."

Holograms showed ruins drone footage, thermal tracks, ID confirms.

Smith uncrossed his arms.

"Just deploy already. Red Eye plus our unit's enough."

He seemed impatient with the talk.

"We're combat pros. Captain Bell's top-tier 0th gen."

Sophie's gaze worried toward Tiny Bell, fixated blankly on Ri's photo. Jack spoke instead.

"Good."

He nodded at Smith.

"Bring her back safe."

Smith saluted wordlessly, exiting with his commander.

Tiny Bell silently gathered gear and mags in the B1 armory. Grabbing essentials, she reached her locker; it hissed open like transforming.

Her custom sniper rifle gleamed like new.

Sniper's tricky in urban, so upgraded it.

Stein had muttered low, barely explaining amid excitement. Upgrades meant little to her then—just noise. But one thing was clear: even Stein looked tormented. As sci-tech, he'd seen Ri often. Especially with her cheery daily greetings.

Tiny Bell swept her trembling face, boarding the direct elevator to the helipad.

This is why she hated letting people in. Even thinking they weren't close, lingering guilt filled her head.

Truth was, that warmth might've secretly pleased her. Grateful, even. Yet she'd been cold.

Click. The massive sniper felt heavier than ever today. Her steps dragged.

Before buried regrets about that warm person vanishing gripped her ankles more, before thoughts spiraled endlessly.

She shut her eyes briefly. Gritted her teeth.

Elevator arrival chimed.

"Even without opening my heart, this damn feeling's the same. This dog-like helplessness."

Spitting uncharacteristically ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠harsh words at herself, she headed to the helipad.