War had often proven its worth in the past, especially in its aim to establish a lasting peace in its aftermath. Alas, this peace was never long-lived, for conflicts would emerge anew from nowhere, destabilizing the world once more.
In this case, was war, in Milityasha's opinion, an effective means to establish an era of peace? And even if Milityasha's plans had unfolded without failure since her revolution, would there come a day when she would face her own defeat? In this moment of tension, only the future could answer those existential questions.
As Katyusha's eyes were fixed on Milityasha, her thoughts seemed to swirl in an abyss of reflection. She appeared hesitant about this somewhat uncertain idea.
"Indeed, it's a conceivable solution. If it's the only way for us to live without fear of being absorbed or abducted, then I won't hesitate to do it. For now, I leave you free rein to stop the sect; I'll take care of the rest."
"At your command."
As Katyusha prepared to rise and leave the room to return to her quarters, Milityasha stopped her with an enigmatic question:
"Katyusha, before you go, I'd like your opinion on something. Do you think we're on the brink of a global conflict? Do you believe our era could witness a Second World War?"
Katyusha lowered her gaze to better ponder the response that could change Milityasha's view of the future. After a brief moment, she looked up at her and expressed her opinion with remarkable calm:
"I wouldn't go as far as to say that a Second World War would break out, but given the buildup of tensions between nations, I'm more inclined to foresee the advent of a latent war. Perhaps a war of espionage or even an ideological conflict between Edra and Argha?"
"That's an interesting viewpoint."
"Milityasha, should I conclude that you genuinely consider the possibility of a global conflict? Does that need to be part of your plans?"
Beside the portrait of the imperialist man stood a map of the world, where every country, region, and city was marked. Milityasha walked over to it, tracing the narrow border between the Kingdom of Rymis and Argha. Her green eyes, once filled with evident wisdom, suddenly reflected a contemplative expression.
"Yes. It's essential for society to designate a scapegoat to better manipulate behind the scenes. This scapegoat doesn't necessarily have to be a demon; after all, I could just as well play that role myself. It could be Marc, Rymis, or even one of the Lost Ones. But honestly, I think it would be more a waste of resources than anything else."
With this revelation, Katyusha began to see the endgame of their exchange.
"No... the main reason I want to choose the demons lies in our ceaseless efforts to civilize them, which have almost always ended in failures, be it through triggered revolutions or betrayed peace agreements. I'm convinced that we've reached a limit in terms of sympathy towards the demons, an opinion shared by most, including Edra and the Kingdom of Rymis.
"That makes sense. How many times have we tried to collaborate with the demons..."
"But rest assured, this war isn't planned for now. There are still a few steps before we arrive at a conflict with the demonic race. And you know me better than anyone, my plans are meticulously designed so that everything unfolds perfectly, while avoiding unnecessary harm..."
Suddenly, a look of almost solemn gravity took over her face, accentuated by a subtle stroking of her chin, which seemed almost mischievous in her reflection. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if weighing each word before speaking them.
"Even though sacrifices are always necessary..." she murmured.
In a moment of silence, Milityasha paused her speech for a contemplation of the world map, her wonder at the geographic diversity laid out before her evident. Katyusha, on the other hand, appeared irritated by a specific detail that had captured her attention, causing a slight furrow in her brow.
"One last thing, forgive my interruption, but Anton didn't wage war on Bergthal. He unjustly annexed it to Argha to expand his domain. To me, it wasn't war but sheer human cruelty. He slaughtered hundreds of thousands of Bergthalians just to quench his insatiable thirst for power."
She sighed deeply, reflecting on Katyusha's inner pain.
"Ah... Anton Ivanov. A man with no real conviction or honor, he wasn't fit to lead the Arghatians. Many died because of his inability to lead a nation. But that's in the past; we must focus on what's crucial: our collective future."
She then looked at Katyusha compassionately.
"Coming from that forgotten land, I understand your deep-seated anger and sorrow. Your homeland was ripped away without you having a say. Many suffered due to this brutal annexation, whether Bergthalian or Arghatian. Some have learned to cope, doing their best to better society, while others never accepted this new reality."
Milityasha graciously extended her hand to Katyusha.
"Where do you stand, Katyusha, my most loyal ally? Have you come to terms with it? Or do you still long for Bergthal?"
A moment of hesitation washed over her, torn between her former nation and Argha. But when she rose with Milityasha's hand, her loyalty was evident. She was committed to the future and prosperity.
"I've learned to live with it, Milityasha. I'm certain now."
A kind smile adorned Milityasha's lips, as she saw the transformation in her closest advisor and friend.
"Katyusha, we both lost loved ones during Anton's era. We understand each other despite our differing origins. We've climbed the ranks together, rebuilt a nation, and are shaping a future."
Suddenly, she adjusted Katyusha's attire, fostering a physical bond between them.
"Katyusha Wagnerström, will you stand by me until my plan's end? Or do you contemplate a different path?"
Katyusha grabbed her military hat, placing it over her heart with a genuine smile.
"Yes, ever since we united against Anton. I'll always stand by you, Milityasha Karpeva. I promise."
Milityasha touched Katyusha's shoulder, utterly delighted by her pledge.
"In that case, are you still willing to make sacrifices? Correct me if I'm wrong, but it feels like you're softening. You're not the resolute Katyusha I knew a decade ago."
Suddenly, Katyusha locked eyes with Milityasha, diving deep into their depths, as if unearthing the deepest secrets of her soul. Each gaze seemed a window into the other's essence, a powerful connection beyond words.
"Sacrifices have always paved the way for a nation's rise. So yes, I won't hesitate to sacrifice someone..."
[Several days later, Ustinka, Argha]
As the timid rays of dawn pierced through the dense clouds, a middle-class family awoke to the gentle harmony of their alarms, sounding like a morning symphony. In the room of their only child, a teenager with luminous blonde hair struggled to open her heavy eyelids, still bound by sleep's grasp. Gently rubbing her eyes to dispel the lingering drowsiness, she pushed back her messy short hair.
Damn... the night went by so quickly...
When her vibrant, scarlet eyes finally faced the world, the morning presented itself as a blank canvas, waiting to be painted by the events of her upcoming day.
I wish I could sleep in, but I have to practice magic... No choice but to get up...
A few minutes later, she rose, heading to the bathroom where her day could truly begin. Dressed in a simple grey tank top revealing her delicate shoulders and a pair of shorts doubling as pajamas, she stood in front of the mirror, examining her reflection intently.
"I'll never get used to this look..."
After her morning routine, she donned jeans and chose a more modest tank top than usual, revealing less skin. Heading to the dining room, she picked a chair strategically positioned for an optimal view of the TV.
Her mother emerged, bearing an elegant tray upon which sat a steaming cup of coffee and sweet, tender pastries filled with a fragrant fruit paste.
"Here you go, sweetheart! I made your Yarva cup with your favorite Lefirka.
"Thanks, mom."
Without delay, she dipped a pastry into her coffee, letting the sweet filling mix with the strong aroma before savoring each bite.
On the TV screen, news anchors passionately reported the arrival of the three Lost Ones in Edra. With cinematic detail, they painted a picture of how this event would disrupt the daily life of the entire nation. Cameras focused on the joyful faces of citizens, capturing the blend of anticipation and security on the streets.
Yet amidst the intense media coverage, a disturbing detail arose, sparking deep concerns about the future of the medieval nation of the Kingdom of Rymis. Political experts believed this power shift between Edra and the Kingdom might herald the downfall of a historic era for this declining nation. The atmosphere grew solemn, as if the fate of an entire people hung in the balance.
Now, the Kingdom's residents could only rely on two of the Lost Ones, Jacob and Rogue, for their safety. Hermiel, long symbolizing security and stability, had left the realm. Taken by Gwendoline and the two Lost Ones for emotional support, his absence left a dangerous void.
"Oh, did you see, Sasha? The Lost Ones have arrived in Edra!
"Yeah... I'm not keen on the idea of using teenagers as pawns in state affairs. Do you find that normal?"
"Well, you're right... But they did consent to this shift, didn't they?
"When you put it like that..."
Sasha turned her attention back to the TV.
The Lost Ones... Teenagers from Earth, used like playthings by the government... It reminds me of those messed-up Japanese cartoons on Earth. Yet, thinking about it, my life has been no different since I reincarnated in this absurd communist country.
She gazed into her coffee, lost in contemplation.
Honestly... this world's as messed up as the last. Neither's better than the other. It's as if we combined humanity's worst with magic and ridiculous powers.
Suddenly, she smiled, amused by a realization.
Hmpf... I suppose many would envy this life. Who wouldn't want to wield magic or mana to live out childhood fantasies? But such a mindset is for the weak. True strength comes from understanding the implications.
She looked up at the TV again, observing the Lost Ones more intently, a subtle smile gracing her lips. An idea was taking shape.
Still... there's one thing I must do. Meet them. Just one would suffice. I have so much to ask...
Suddenly, a deep rumble erupted from outside, shattering the peaceful ambiance of their home. Nestled close to a major roadway, their house had long grown accustomed to the hum of traffic. But this time, something felt markedly different. It seemed as if a sizable procession of vehicles had decided to halt right in front of their residence.
"What's that noise? Someone lost?" the mother pondered aloud.
Choosing to turn down the television's volume, she slowly rotated the knob, diminishing the noise from the screen, and concentrated on the foreign sounds flooding the room. Footsteps resonated clearly, each step echoing the distinct sound of boots pounding on the ground. Drawn to the window, she desperately sought to identify the source of the disturbing footsteps.
There, through the glass, the scene unfolded. A massive military truck was stationed in the street, its towering silhouette a stark contrast in the urban backdrop. Emblazoned on the vehicle's side was a Starry Spiral, proudly and provocatively declaring its presence, casting an aura of both mystery and threat.
For Sasha, still seated at the breakfast table, the realization was simple and utterly terrifying.
OH SHIT, THEY'VE FOUND ME!
For a fleeting moment, her hands seemed to move on their own, engaged in a mystical dance, as if ready to conjure a spell.
What do I do? Use astral magic? Create a diversion? Or run?
But as Sasha pondered her options, her mother stood frozen, utterly taken aback by the unexpected military presence before their modest home located in the city's heart and housing an otherwise ordinary family.
"It looks like the army. What are they doing here?" she questioned aloud.
Sasha gritted her teeth, uncertainty plaguing her mind.
Damn! I need to act fast, or I'm done for!
Suddenly, a soldier pounded forcefully on the door, shouting,
"BRIGADE 412 OF ARGHA'S LAND ARMY! OPEN UP!"
In a blend of haste and anxiety, the mother promptly complied with the soldier's demands. At the doorstep stood an imposing troop of soldiers clad in white. The leading man emitted an aura of both terror and unwavering resolve, capable of shaking even the stoutest of hearts. His gaze instantly locked onto Sasha, hands ready to act.
"You! Are you Sasha Moreaukov?
"What do you want from me?"
"Sasha! Show some respect! He's a soldier!" her mother scolded.
Without waiting for an invitation, the soldier stepped into the house, approaching Sasha and promptly saluting.
"I am Sub-Lieutenant Mickael Petrikov of the 412th Land Army Brigade."
He ceased his salute but continued speaking.
"You've recently turned 17, which means you're now required to undertake the Youth Military Service."
Sasha was taken aback. Her wide-eyed realization made her question her initial fear.
Wait a minute, so they haven't really found me?
"Youth Military Service?"
"Yes. Every individual, male or female, at the age of 17, is mandated to attend military service training. For two weeks, you will undergo intensive physical conditioning, learn military tactics, discipline, and weapon handling. Am I clear?!"
"Yes..."
While most would've panicked, Sasha accepted this newfound responsibility with a sly smirk.
Perhaps this isn't so bad. I've been looking to gain more power and knowledge to harness astral magic... this might be perfect.
Mickael sharply observed Sasha's smirk, a smile seemingly laced with deliberate mischief. A slight grunt of discontent involuntarily escaped his lips, revealing his internal unease.
"Are you mocking me?!"
"Not at all, Sub-Lieutenant. I'm genuinely excited to undergo this training!"
"If you're that eager, then go pack your things, and make it quick!"
"Yes, Sub-Lieutenant!"
Sasha saluted back, then dashed upstairs to gather her belongings.