As the year drew to a close, the war had gradually reached a dead end. Front lines were set up across Altirustzkan territory. Artillery barrages pounded the plains, turning them into wastelands. Both sides suffered heavy losses in tanks and aircraft, forcing the infantry to return to the front lines. In addition, the world was plunging into famine and economic and population crises. The two nations of Logravic and Skirmish had also grown weak after months of territorial disputes. Therefore, Altirustzkan and Kuznetskozhyan sent countless corps there to avoid confronting too many enemies at once. Dimitri and Victor were sent there and were killed in action.
To quickly end the war, a major airborne landing operation was launched, but it was also because of this that we were changed forever. An operation where tens of thousands of people would be permanently left behind...
A few months later. The border between Kuznetskozhyan and Altirustzkan, the Ultravoglazov factory.
The pale highway climbing a slope in the middle of the deep forest was strangely congested by dark shadows. It seemed as if a spell had caused the forest to spread onto the road and roll thickly into the night. It was the regiment, looking for a new place to camp. The heavy lines of men, burdened with piles of disorderly luggage, were stumbling and pushing each other. Each human wave, pushed from behind, crashed into the one in front.
On either side, the lighter forms of non-commissioned officers walked separately. One could hear mumbled shouts, snippets of conversations, orders, coughs, and songs, all jumbled together, rising from the dense crowd between the roadsides. Following this noise were the crunching sounds of footsteps, the clinking of bayonet scabbards, canteens, iron flasks, and the rumbling and rattling of sixty wagons from the supply train and the regimental convoy that followed the two battalions.
And while our feet kept moving, each person had to endlessly fix their eyes on the approximate back of the person in front. After many halts, each time falling onto our packs beside our stacked rifles—as soon as the whistle blew, we had to form rifle stacks, a frantic but also frustratingly slow process in the pitch-black darkness. But then, the dawn broke, gradually spreading to conquer the space, and the darkness now, like a dim wall, collapsed.
Once again, we encountered the magnificent sight of dawn, opening up over our endless wandering horde. Finally, we got through that night march as if stepping through concentric circles of less dense darkness, to twilight, and then to a faint light. Our legs were as stiff as wood, our backs ached, and our shoulders were numb. Our faces were still gray and grimy; you could say we struggled to escape the darkness, and even when we did, we couldn't shake it off completely.
Shaking off the exhaustion from a ten-kilometer march, everyone breathed a sigh of relief that we hadn't been detected by enemy Ilyushin attack aircraft. I turned to the girl with platinum hair, who was wiping the sweat from her forehead, and offered her my water bottle.
"Ilaina, are you okay? This kind of march is truly awful. Here, have some of my water to feel better."
With a gentle smile, she replied:
"I'm fine. Even if it's a bit tough, at least we've arrived. Thank you anyway."
While we were talking, Mikhail scowled, realizing we had been tricked. Today, we had the task of searching this factory to find clues about Kuznetskozhyan's heavy weapons experiments, but the result was completely different; there were no documents at all.
"Look at these Kuznetskozhyan bastards. There must be thousands of corpses."
What was inside was clear to everyone.
Corpses.
The factory was filled with piles of decomposing bodies. They were stained with blood and gave off a thick, foul smell. The flesh and blood of the corpses were mixed together, their eye sockets and mouths full of writhing black maggots. The skin and flesh were so ruined they couldn't be identified. Some arms were outstretched as if they were trying to grab onto something, like the hem of Death's cloak. Body parts like livers, intestines, hearts, brains, and other organs were smashed into a slimy mess.
The entire complex was a chaotic mess. The ground was covered in a foul-smelling liquid. On a table was a head, next to a chair was one... No, it was dozens of ruined bodies piled up. Looking at each drop of red blood, each joint, and flying piece of flesh, I could only click my tongue.
I went into the area for experimental cadavers. Motherfucker, it was truly horrifying. But to be honest, I no longer felt the same fear as before. These gruesome images appeared so often that I had become numb, with no trace of fear left. But it was the opposite for Mikhail, Augusta, and Ilaina.
"Let's see. They're all prisoners of war and civilians. Nothing useful at all."
I rummaged through the mess, quickly writing everything down in my personal notebook. Meanwhile, Ilaina and Augusta found some discarded documents, and Mikhail broke into the storage room, discovering a few miscellaneous and worthless items.
"Great, there's nothing left here. Those Kuznetskozhyan guys have run off with all their shit. Augusta, call headquarters. This place would make a pretty good base."
"Understood, Captain."
After cleaning up a bit, we took a break in the chemical plant's control room. Outside, Kuznetskozhyan mortars were still furiously firing. The brutal flashes of light constantly flickered, followed by violent explosions that tore through everything. From a distance, I could feel the unspeakable ferocity of the death zone.
"This battle will likely have higher casualties than expected. I wonder if we'll still be valued like this then, huh?" Mikhail said, sitting in a corner of the room.
Augusta replied:
"Yes, we're still important people. Without us, Altirustzkan would have a hard time advancing further here. It took nearly 40,000 dead soldiers for us to reach this place."
Ilaina laughed coldly.
"After all, we're no better than condemned prisoners. Being infantry is still a lot better than being a scout like us. We could die at any moment."
"Well, what else can we do? Besides exposing ourselves on the brutal battlefield, we're just a bunch of bums with nothing to do but kill each other."
That was the truth. We couldn't do anything else but carry guns and kill people. This job sounds easy but is hard, and sounds hard but is easy. If you're a rookie, you certainly won't have the courage to plunge a knife through the head of a Kuznetskozhyan. But if you're used to slitting throats and executing enemies, then killing people takes on a different meaning.
You could even call it a bit of an exhilarating and entertaining experience, right?
Suddenly, a new member of the squad came in and reported:
"They're preparing to attack. Everyone, get ready. I've made contact with our forces at the South base cluster."
"Thanks, buddy."
Standing there was a person I had thought was dead for a long time: Petrov, my old best friend. I heard he was captured by Kuznetskozhyan military police on that fateful day, the day I became a cold-blooded monster like this. But Petrov wasn't killed. Instead, he disguised himself as someone else, became a thief to get by, and was then exiled here. It was a miracle that he was still alive.
Petrov was a strange guy. His parents and sister had died in front of him, and now he was all alone in this world, he told me. But Petrov never showed sadness or cried. He always laughed in the most optimistic way. I don't know what kind of person he became after that incident, but I feel he's a little different from everyone else here. Amidst the darkness of this world, he still laughs and makes others laugh. You could say he was a gift to our squad; at least we would have a laugh before we died.
Just then, the enemy's attack came.
After half a day of landing and fighting, we finally captured the most crucial position of the factory. Thousands of paratroopers were now reduced to a small handful who survived thanks to the terrain. We successfully stole some of the research samples from Kuznetskozhyan. The first impression was that they were very complex and large-scale. The thick documents filled an entire truck, and the laboratories and production rooms were as big as a football field...
Because of this, unorganized, undisciplined attacks on us occurred continuously. Luckily, most of the Kuznetskozhyan soldiers who knew how to fight had already been shot and killed earlier. At first, we were a little surprised by the large number of enemies, but we were relieved when we realized they were just a bunch of rookies who knew nothing but how to run forward and die horribly.
In the afternoon, the enemy finally brought in elite troops along with T-72-90SA tanks. Of course, we were beaten to a pulp. These Kuznetskozhyan soldiers carried modern weapons that pushed us out of the area we had just captured. The Javelin missiles that the Altirustzkan side had praised only caused a few minor scratches on the tank bodies. We were forced to resort to an airstrike, even though we knew the horrible consequences it would bring.
With the ZSU-23-2 anti-aircraft gun in hand, my squad pointed it at the surviving enemies who were charging, firing continuously. The sharp bullets flew, piercing through them one by one. The sound of the gunfire almost completely drowned out the sound of flesh being torn apart and the enemies' screams. Petrov carried his cannon on his shoulder and fired them toward a few cars, taking down a few more groups of enemies.
After finishing off the scum, a few other Altirustzkan paratrooper teams quickly advanced with the support of a captured BTR armored vehicle. Their main task was to try to expand control around here before the regular Kuznetskozhyan army returned from the front.
"Everyone! Move out!"
Under the cover of mortars, we easily ran out of our hiding place under a barrage of heavy gunfire from the Kuznetskozhyan army. Petrov lunged forward, firing a few more rockets into their bunkers. Ilaina and the others threw smoke grenades and fired suppressive shots to cover Team Largoter 3 as they moved around the front line.
I narrowed my eyes, observing the situation and seeing that quite a few enemy squads were trying to direct the rookies' tactics. It seems that having those young and inexperienced boys fight alongside their soldiers was a bad idea. I charged forward, took a defensive position, and sent a few small teams to control the areas we had just captured.
"Twelve o'clock, about five guys, Mikhail. Can you take them out with a grenade?" I said softly.
Mikhail, lying next to me, replied.
"Sure, as long as you give me enough grenades."
He shoved grenades into the launcher under his AK, then quickly pulled the trigger. One by one, the grenades exploded. Ilaina and I stood up, firing a volley of bullets. Since the enemy didn't know how to hide, they always revealed their positions, trying to avoid the bullets in a state of chaos and recklessness. To be honest, hunting animals is a thousand times harder than killing people here. Just one squeeze of the trigger is enough to kill a Kuznetskozhyan soldier.
Ilaina was even more formidable. She even wiped out an entire squad of ten people in just a few seconds. She truly lived up to her name as the best marksman in the group. Augusta suddenly jumped out of cover, using her small body to weave through the obstacles and then use her submachine gun to harass the enemy. My squad worked together perfectly, easily taking down each layer of defense.
I led another team to infiltrate the enemy bunker, using tactics taught by a former Alpha Zero soldier. Suddenly, while checking a block of houses, we unexpectedly came across a team of rookies who were scared and huddled in the bunker. Every one of them had a face as young as a bamboo shoot; some were even still in high school. Seeing me, they didn't even dare to shoot; they just screamed and screamed.
I didn't say anything. I casually pulled the pin on a grenade and threw it inside.
A violent and cruel explosion rang out.
Blood splattered everywhere, followed by the pitiful screams of the young rookies. I walked out and furiously squeezed the trigger of my rifle.
The enemy was quickly killed off. More than a hundred soldiers, most of them under 16, were permanently left here. It was too horrible for one morning.
We saw people who had lost their skulls but were still alive; we saw soldiers who had both feet shot off but were still running. They staggered and dragged their mangled stumps to a nearby shell crater. A corporal crawled for two kilometers with a shattered knee; another one dragged himself to the aid station, his hands clutching his intestines that had spilled out. We saw people without mouths, without lower jaws, without faces. We found a soldier who had been using his teeth to clamp down on an artery in his arm for two hours to keep from bleeding to death.
Night fell, the shells roared, and life ended. Yet, this turned-up land where we lay was able to hold its ground against the enemy's overwhelming force, losing only a few hundred yards. But each yard of land was exchanged for a human life.
We temporarily put our weapons in a corner and gently took out the nearly empty cans of food to regain our strength. The enemy would likely have reinforcements this afternoon, which meant we would have to shoulder even more. Food, manpower, ammunition...
It was awful.
Petrov sat leaning against the wall. He looked at the dirt-covered can of food and said with a sigh:
"This is crazy. We have to kill at least a few dozen enemies every day, but we only get this little bit of food. Aren't you guys hungry?"
Mikhail next to him just laughed coldly while still wolfing down the mashed porridge.
"Hey, Petrov! Getting starved by the superiors is completely normal in this unit. You'll get used to it. We're lucky to still have food."
"If you like, you can steal some stuff from the Kuznetskozhyan side. It's salty, but it's good for staving off hunger."
After eating, we continued to dig trenches, preparing for another assault on this fortress. In the recent battle, the company commander had fallen from a bullet through the heart, so the entire command of 2,000 Altirustzkan paratroopers was now in my hands. The thing we needed to do now was to figure out how we could get enough supplies. The only people who dared to do this were Ilaina and I, because we both had enough combat experience. Mikhail, Augusta, and Petrov would stay behind because they could still lead if something happened to us.
It might take a few more days for the superiors to dare to land Altirustzkan troops. Mostly because all the best soldiers had been killed. The Kuznetskozhyan anti-aircraft system had improved a lot. Half of the casualties were from crashing helicopters, not from fighting. Such a waste.
But there was still a problem: we didn't know the number of enemies surrounding this place. No one would dare to carry out this reconnaissance mission, even though it was very necessary. Only Ilaina and I were brave enough to go out there.
"Hey, you guys continue to reinforce the defensive line for now. Ilaina and I are going out to scout a bit. If anything happens, I'm counting on you, Petrov!"
"Yeah, go on and flirt with each other. No one will know."
With that, Ilaina and I quietly left the defensive position, weaving through the ruined complex. It had been a long time since we had walked together like this. Recently, the intensity of the fighting had suddenly been pushed to the extreme, making it difficult for Ilaina and me to adapt, and because of this, we rarely got to be alone. Plus, with Dimitri and Victor's sacrifice, leaving a power vacuum, Ilaina and I could only do missions together, without a single moment to chat or talk.
Or maybe it was because of my selfishness. On this difficult battlefield, everyone has to bear pain and loss. Yet, I still have the intention of flirting with Ilaina. Even though I know she loves me too, I'm still like a little child, always wanting affection.
We sat down in a room and confided in each other about the pain we had been through.
"Klaus, we haven't talked to each other much lately, have we? So much has happened." Ilaina said, her hand still holding her AK.
I turned to look at her angelic beauty and gently confessed the pressure in my heart.
"You're right. I'm sorry, I didn't dare to say anything. I was basically afraid of bothering you. I also really want to confide in the person I love. I feel like I'm getting too negative."
Hearing that, Ilaina gave a gentle, somewhat pitying smile. She brushed her platinum hair to the side and advised the person who was slowly going insane:
"It's okay. I know you're under pressure. You don't need to blame yourself too much. They only want what's best for us. Even if you intentionally killed them, I would still stand by your side. Because I owe you so much, things I can't repay in a lifetime."
"Is that so..." I froze.
"Klaus, I think you have a problem. Normally you're so friendly and loving towards everyone, so why is it like this now? You're not guilty of anything. What we're doing now is to survive. You're the one who taught me that."
I clutched my head, suddenly screaming:
"I know! But I don't dare to hold a gun anymore. Killing, always killing! I can't do it anymore! Motherfucker! When will this all end!"
Ilaina ran over and held a person who was going crazy from the war. She was weak, but she tried to speak as loudly as she could so I could hear.
"I know you're feeling angry and hopeless. But there's nothing wrong with us being here, at this moment. Do you know how much I risked to come to this place? I want to give up too, but I don't dare. I love you, so everything I'm doing right now is just for your sake."
Understanding Ilaina's words, I was speechless. She was right. There was nothing wrong with us being here. We were trying to save ourselves in this death zone. But why did I collapse at this moment, causing the person I was supposed to protect to stand up and comfort me like this? Why? Was I too weak?
It turned out that in the end, the person who understood and loved me the most was not myself but her. I don't know why I was sinking myself down again. Maybe it was because of the long-suppressed resentment in my body, or maybe it was because the souls of the dead were surrounding me and trying to turn me into one of them? My hands were stained with countless people's blood; the time for punishment was not far off.
I really just wanted to die. So many pressures were clinging to me, trying to kill me from the inside. But on second thought, I still had too many things to hold on to. Ilaina, she needed me, she needed me a lot. Mikhail, Augusta, and Petrov too. I had to be strong; I couldn't give up just because of a little pain!
While my mind was still in a chaotic state, I unintentionally wandered into an old enemy command center. There was nothing too surprising inside; it was the same as everywhere else. However, when Ilaina and I went deeper inside, we were stunned. It turned out that this was not just a factory but also a tunnel for civilians from both sides to evacuate.
Looking at the slow-moving procession of civilians, I had an idea to use this place to retreat. The mission to capture the factory had failed. The only thing I could do was escape from here before it was too late. There was nothing left to take. This was a suicidal path. I don't understand why there are still people who would risk their lives for this place.
I could never know. I only knew that I had to struggle to get away from this death zone and live peacefully with the person I loved. That's all. That was my ambition.
It's so simple, but why is it so difficult?!
Putting aside the pointless thoughts, I turned and asked Ilaina:
"My God, Ilaina, do you think the same as me? We'll escape from this place through this tunnel. The plan to steal the documents has failed. There's nothing left."
She shrugged and replied:
"I think it's a bit risky. We'll be reprimanded by our superiors and easily spotted by Kuznetskozhyan soldiers. Moving nearly a thousand soldiers like that is very dangerous. But we can still move some professional soldiers out of here."
This was truly a difficult decision. Moving such a large number of people would definitely cause suspicion, and many people would die. But we had to take a risk; who knows, maybe we could save a few people? Ilaina and I quickly left, running all the way back to the front line to announce our plan.
Everyone there was still busy moving the corpses of Kuznetskozhyan soldiers and our comrades to the side. It seemed this place had just gone through a life-or-death battle. The bodies of the enemies were scattered everywhere, giving off a charred smell, and blood flowed like a river. Some bodies had their organs shot to pieces, with livers and intestines easily visible.
Petrov saw us return in one piece and turned to tease Mikhail.
"Oh my God, look at that. The husband and wife went together. Of course, they didn't die. So, give me my food ration, my friend. I've been with this pair for a while, so I know."
Augusta laughed coldly.
"Serves you right, Mikhail."
Ignoring the joke, I spoke my idea, panting.
"Everyone, listen. I've found a tunnel that leads to the rear. We can use it as a way to escape from this hellhole. No one has to die senselessly anymore. The plan has failed. We don't have enough strength to keep fighting!"
Immediately, Mikhail, Petrov, and Augusta agreed. However, most of the people there refused. One of them came out and said in a unified voice:
"I'm sorry, you guys are Kuznetskozhyan, so you probably won't understand. We were born here and grew up here. It is on this land you consider barren that the elite sons of the Altirustzkan nation were raised. Therefore, I cannot blaspheme the efforts of previous generations to protect our homeland. You can go. We will stay and fall for eternal independence and democracy."
He was right. We didn't understand any of this.
What right did we have to understand these great things about protecting a nation? Everyone in the squad was Kuznetskozhyan, the very people who caused the war, so we didn't understand them.
Being trapped without any fire support, day after day facing countless soldiers who would die for their cause, had driven us crazy. More than half of our people were dead, our health had deteriorated, and all we had gained were a few insignificant yards of land. Was it worth sacrificing our lives for a few measly square meters, only for them to be easily retaken by the enemy?
Clearly, despite the constant bombing, despite the ghost of the enemy across the front line, despite the fear within Altirustzkan itself when Kuznetskozhyan had brought thousands of new soldiers from their conscription drives to the battlefield, there were still people who were determined not to think about the disaster that was about to strike.
They were extremist nationalist party members. Most of them seemed to view the difficult situation they were going through as a form of atonement—a trial and purification of their devotion to nationalism and its goals. Once they had expressed their loyalty, everything would surely be alright. They not only believed that Kritchenburg would never fall but also that victory would surely belong to Altirustzkan and that the Kuznetskozhyan people would be exterminated.
On the other hand, the Kuznetskozhyan people spread propaganda, or rather, brainwashed the youth, saying that in the land of Altirustzkan, there was only suffering and oppression and that they would be the liberators, saving the families who were brutally beaten. But even a five-year-old knew it was a psychological trick. Unfortunately, the Kuznetskozhyan people didn't dare to stand up and fight for their rights.
These macroscopic things were incomprehensible to me. Not because I was irresponsible to my country but simply because I didn't understand a damn thing about politics. I was a Kuznetskozhyan citizen, which meant I had to serve my country. But why was I on the Altirustzkan side, betraying my own homeland?
No, I no longer had a homeland to return to.
In the end, it was all just a lie.
There was no justice here, only a scene where one person kills another, who is then killed by someone else with a cold, heartless, and brutal bullet.
And so, we had no choice but to leave them behind, leaving their fate to heaven. After preparing our bags, we secretly left, heading into the tunnel with backpacks full of guns, ammunition, and food. By this time, the tunnel was empty; all that was left was a paved road with a faint light. That whole night, the group ran tirelessly westward.