A thunderous explosion ripped through the air, shaking the massive machine around her. The force of it sent a violent tremor through her body—no, not her body, Aeri's—but the impact felt real. The sound was deafening, a sharp, gut-wrenching blast that yanked her from the depths of her spiraling thoughts.
Her vision snapped back into focus, and in that instant, she was no longer a lost little girl drowning in confusion. She was here, in the chaos, in the war, in the body of a marshal.
And they were losing.
Red warning symbols flashed across the screens before her. Damage reports scrolled rapidly, detailing structural failures and energy depletion. The mech lurched as something struck it from the side—another impact, another hit from the enemy forces pressing in.
Aeri's voice, calm and unwavering, came out of her lips.
"Status report!"
A soldier's voice crackled through the comms, tense and frantic.
"Marshal! Our flanks are completely breached! The enemy's advancing faster than expected—we're getting cut off!"
The battlefield was chaos. The enemy mechs had pushed through their lines, breaking apart formations, picking off stragglers like wolves descending on wounded prey. The towering machines of her own army—her subordinates—were desperately trying to hold their ground, but it was clear they were being overwhelmed.
And they needed time.
Time to fall back. Time to regroup. Time that only she could give them.
Somewhere deep inside, the little girl shrank in terror. No! We have to run!
But the body she inhabited had already decided.
Aeri's hands—her hands—tightened around the controls.
"All units, retreat to formation Gamma! Regroup at the fallback point!"
"B-But, Marshal—!"
"That's an order!" she snapped, the steel in her voice slicing through the hesitation.
There was no time for arguments. No time for fear.
Because she wasn't running.
She was staying behind.
Using herself as bait.
The realization slammed into the girl like a tidal wave, cold and merciless. She wanted to scream, to stop this madness, but she was powerless. Just a voice trapped inside a body that wasn't hers.
Aeri had no fear. No hesitation.
The mech's massive frame shifted, turning sharply as it fired up its thrusters. In an instant, she surged forward, charging straight into the enemy's ranks with terrifying speed. The ground beneath trembled from the sheer weight of her war machine as she became the distraction.
Enemy mechs snapped their attention toward her. Weapons locked on. Alarms blared in her ears.
But she did not falter.
The mech moved with trained precision, weaving through enemy fire, dodging plasma blasts and cannon rounds. Aeri—she—unleashed a barrage of counterfire, cutting through enemy machines with ruthless efficiency.
Inside, the little girl wept.
She didn't want to die.
But Aeri did not fear death.
She only feared failure.
And as the battlefield burned around her, the girl inside realized something far worse than dying—
She was inside the body of a warrior who would not hesitate to sacrifice herself for victory.
And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Explosions painted the battlefield in fire and smoke, the ground trembling beneath the weight of clashing steel giants. The little girl inside wanted to shut her eyes, to wake up from this nightmare, but the body she inhabited—Aeri's body—did not waver.
The mech surged forward, its massive frame cutting through the chaos, its cannons blazing with relentless fury. Every movement was precise, every strike ruthless. Aeri fought like a demon.
And it was working.
The enemy forces—so confident in their victory—were faltering. Their frontline wavered under the sheer ferocity of her assault. Their formation broke, forced into disarray as their mechs struggled to adapt to the sudden, unrelenting counterattack.
But even a legend could not fight forever.
A sharp alarm blared in her ears—critical damage detected.
The mech jerked as an enemy round tore through its side, piercing deep into the reactor core. Sparks erupted from the console, and for the first time, Aeri's body staggered. The controls shuddered in her grip, yet she pushed forward, refusing to slow down.
The girl inside screamed in terror.
No! No! Stop! We have to run! We have to live!
But Aeri had already made her choice.
"All units, confirm status!" she barked into the comms.
One by one, her soldiers responded. They had escaped. They had pulled back to safety, regrouped as ordered. The sacrifice had worked.
Victory was hers.
A ragged breath filled Aeri's lungs. For the first time, the little girl felt it—a deep, bone-weary exhaustion, heavier than anything she had ever known. Yet there was relief in it.
She had done her duty.
She had won.
But the battle was not over for her.
Warning sirens screamed as the reactor core's heat levels skyrocketed. The damage was too severe. Her mech was dying.
And she was dying with it.
The girl inside wept.
She wanted her mother. She wanted her warm bed, the scent of fresh bread, the gentle voice of her nanny waking her in the morning. She wanted to run through the gardens, barefoot and laughing.
But that world was gone.
This is not my body.
This is not my war.
I don't want to die.
But her cries were swallowed by the roar of the machine, by the final act of Aeri.
With the last of its strength, the mech lunged forward—into the heart of the enemy's weakened formation. If she was to fall, then she would bring them all down with her.
Her fingers gripped the controls with finality. The thrusters ignited one last time, pushing her damaged machine into the enemy's command unit.
Aeri's voice was calm, steady, and absolute.
"For the Empire."
Then—
Light.
Heat.
Silence.
The explosion consumed everything in its wake, a blinding inferno that shook the battlefield. Enemy forces scrambled to escape as their leader fell in a storm of fire and steel. Without their commander, they faltered, breaking apart, retreating in disarray.
She had done it.
She had turned the tide.
And as the flames swallowed her whole, the little girl felt herself slipping away, as if the body she had been trapped in was finally releasing her.
A whisper echoed through the void—
Was this truly the end?