Will Blossoming in Regret
Tang! Tang!
Tiny Bell personally put a bullet through the head of each fallen Dist as she climbed the stairs. The special forces team on the landing lowered their weapons and swiftly shifted to scanning other directions. It was just like something out of a movie she'd seen before. Their movements were utterly professional. No casualties on their side. Tiny Bell felt a solid sense of reassurance from the special forces.
That's when Bram approached her.
"Captain."
"Yeah."
"...Doesn't something feel off about this?"
He'd picked up on the strangeness of the situation right away, too. Tiny Bell readjusted her grip on her rifle and replied.
"The Dists' movements. Definitely weird. It was like they sprang into action the moment they spotted me heading this way."
Even assuming the old Aria sector controls had reactivated, the Dists' behavior was far too peculiar. As if they'd received meticulous orders from someone. Bram took a short breath, feeling the same nagging doubt—this couldn't be mere coincidence.
"Agreed, Captain. For years, Aria hasn't even attacked the barriers, and the Dists might as well have been zombies."
"Couldn't Aria...as an AI—direct them?"
Bram signaled with a hand gesture for Tiny Bell and the team to advance, then answered.
"It's possible. All the AI systems are still linked to the Aria network, after all. It could focus resources on a pinpoint sector for effective control. But now? That's what bothers me. If it could do that, why just issue the Fifth Law and not fight back aggressively during the total war?"
Total war. It had been triggered by a distress signal from a national leader received at the barriers. The goal: recover the all-encompassing Aria control codes held by heads of state, then use them to neutralize the Aria outside. Every bit of early barrier military might had been mobilized. Even as the front lines advanced and troops broke through, Aria hadn't struck supply lines or hit the now-empty barriers. The military deemed it the effect of preemptive strikes—they'd lost some sector controls, making the barriers safe now. But considering that, Bram had a point. A highly intelligent AI pulling precise Dist maneuvers now? It didn't add up.
"From Aria's perspective, no reason to. And per the military, it's not even in a state to do so."
Tiny Bell figured if Aria could regain pinpoint control over sector Dists, it would've hit the barrier cities first. The investigated Fifth Law was about 'liberation' from humanity, after all.
"Exactly. A bit speculative, but maybe a third party with Dist-hacking tech, or someone unleashed them... Or Aria reactivated sector control just to stop this small force. Something like that."
"If anyone's survived out there with that kind of tech, wouldn't they welcome us instead?"
"If they needed protection, sure..."
Bram's words carried layers of meaning.
"To a third party, seeing a captain leap from a helicopter or move at inhuman speeds like you? Any group that can protect itself would judge differently."
"Meaning they'd be more wary of what they don't understand."
Bram nodded with a satisfied expression instead of replying. So young and small, yet Red Eye was sharper than expected. Her age felt irrelevant.
Are there factions surviving outside the barriers?
Bram posed the question to himself but dismissed it. If so, they'd have been absorbed in the total war's capital pushes or spotted by routine barrier drones.
Someone releasing them is the likeliest bet, though...
Bram decided not to dwell on more headaches for now.
"Not a good situation."
Tiny Bell lowered her muzzle, fell silent a moment, then spoke gravely.
"Best to find Ri Siarin fast and pull out. Once we have her... maybe she'll shed light on this."
Tiny Bell narrowed her eyes. The Dists' odd movements. The dark building interior. Still no sign of Ri Siarin. She knew time was against them all.
"I'll push my limits. Can we wrap this quick?"
Fine red veins began faintly threading around her crimson eyes as she glanced back. Bram felt a mix of surprise and guilt. But if it was resolve, his special forces wouldn't falter.
"Captain, that's our strength."
The barrier's sole special forces unit. Confidence and pride laced Bram's words. Tiny Bell drew a short breath.
Farther. Deeper.
As if peeling back layers of the world, faint heat signatures emerged beyond walls and floors. Tiny Bell gritted her teeth, expanding her vision wider, sharper. Headache and pressure crushed her skull. She clenched harder.
Tat-tat-tang!
Gunfire shook the building once more. Faint bootsteps echoed. The acrid scent of gunpowder wafted in on wind slipping through crumbled concrete gaps.
Tiny Bell swapped magazines deftly and advanced cautiously into the sector. Two Dists rounding the corner exploded at the head before they could react. The team with her swiftly eliminated rear threats. With her limit-break in full swing, Tiny Bell moved without hesitation, and the unit pierced the area rapidly.
"This room."
It looked like a commercial office. At her words, Bram gently gripped her shoulder.
"Good work, Captain."
The building's layout made precise floor pinpointing impossible from position data alone. Without her, his team would've taken heavier losses. Looking at the girl before him, Bram felt guilt. And a twinge of fear at those red eyes.
Colonel, even one proxy feels like more than we can handle.
Bram kept his composure, but inwardly he kept weighing his special forces against proxies. If top-tier like Tiny Bell was this much... What about the absolute elites, Brigadier General Jack or the Grand Marshal? Those who'd seen their fights only spun novel-like tales. The giant proxy he'd barely faced in the total war had focused on defense—a sturdy shield in memory. Their combat prowess defied imagination. Untouchable one-on-one. A vague unease settled in Bram.
Shoving aside his swirling thoughts, Tiny Bell slowly dialed back her manifestation to normal levels. A stinging jolt ran from her eyes to the nape, then her skull.
"Careful."
Her vision warped briefly; she nearly bumped the doorknob. Bram steadied her waist, then quickly withdrew his hand, a bit embarrassed, and continued.
"You okay?"
"Just blurry."
Tiny Bell felt her vivid red vision blur like ink in water. Even after release, the haze would linger. But they'd made gains. Blazing through in minutes. Just a few minutes. It'll clear soon. She whispered to herself and halted before the door. Old steel, unlocked.
Click—the door opened. A short screech from rusty hinges. Beyond the dusty haze of the windowless empty room, a faint silhouette.
Tiny Bell raised her muzzle, scanned, swallowed. Bram followed, checked blind spots, signaled the team.
"Clear."
Bram and Tiny Bell entered; the rest secured the perimeter expertly. A medic with a trauma kit rushed in.
"Damn."
Bram swallowed a curse rising to his throat. Ri Siarin, the key to unraveling the unease and Tiny Bell's hard-won prize, looked beyond saving. She slumped against the wall, head bowed. Her black proxy uniform glistened grotesquely with blood, face ashen. Frail frame, like she'd vanish any moment.
Tiny Bell approached and knelt slowly on one knee.
"...Lieutenant Ri Siarin."
Yes, this face. The one that had nagged her endlessly for years. She whispered, but no response. Makeshift bandages from shop clothes bound her wounds.
The entering troops scanned the room on alert.
"Blood's still flowing."
The medic's face fell in despair. Proxy uniforms were fire- and bullet-resistant high-tech. Yet bullet holes riddled it nearby—close-range shot? The rags were soaked red.
Tiny Bell extended a hand slowly to Ri Siarin's face. Icy. Chillingly so. The sensation pricked like needles at her fingertips. This face... that had smiled at her. Endlessly. As if forever.
Troops shook their heads at Tiny Bell, signaling no hope. Bram tasted bitterness, eyed Ri Siarin's wounds.
"Tighten security."
Bram waved some troops outside.
Blood hasn't dried.
He frowned at the seeping spots and pooled floor blood. Lung hit. If initial, she'd have died fast—wouldn't have reached here. Even a proxy, taking a vital shot and walking minutes? Impossible.
"This just complicates everything."
It only bred more suspicions. Bram cursed inwardly.
Tiny Bell lowered her hand from Ri Siarin's face. Too serene for someone who'd endured this. It shook Tiny Bell more, confirming her death.
If she'd just responded to the greeting. Chatted a bit more. Would this pain, this scene, have been avoided?
Tiny Bell murmured in a trembling voice.
"Hey, Ri Siarin."
Her hazy vision blurred further. She roughly wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Memory-Ri Siarin would've replied joyfully, but silence, of course.
Tiny Bell bit her lip until it bled. Unforgivable rage surged—at herself.
...Sorry. For being cold all this time... Sorry...
With a choked heart, Tiny Bell clasped Ri Siarin's hand in hers. Thanks for the lessons! That message. And the promised gift. If only I'd replied then... Self-reproach gnawed—maybe it could've changed everything.