"If there are no issues, please prepare for the warp." Fiscella's smile contained a hint of seriousness: "General Kafka, the 5th Fleet is part of the Expeditionary Army. Please believe that we will treat everyone equally, and I will provide detailed answers to these questions in the subsequent battle plans, even if you don't ask."

Fiscella's image dimmed, and the call ended.

Kafka stood quietly in the ship captain's room, feeling a wave of loneliness. He understood that being treated equally meant not only rights but also obeying orders. He also realized that this apparent plan to besiege Wei to save Zhao might have been a prearranged feint.

But what choice did he and this fragmented country have?

************

Milan found herself daydreaming again.

Fatty had been gone to Gazalin for almost a year now, and Milan didn't know how she endured it this past year.

Falling in love with someone, especially a first love, is a feeling of longing day and night. And when two people have already broken through that level of intimacy, for a girl, that feeling becomes unforgettable.

One day apart feels like three autumns, what about a year?

Longing did not fade with time; on the contrary, it deepened every day. Especially with those posters of Fatty all over the streets and the battlefield video records flooding the internet and television, it was impossible to regard him as someone who disappeared.

"Heartless Fatty!" Milan grabbed a Mauser pistol, aimed at the end of the experimental shooting range where Fatty's poster was, and released a barrage. It took her two minutes to empty a whole magazine of energy bullets in rapid fire, leaving the poster in shreds.

"Milan." Someone patted Milan on the shoulder.

Milan, wearing headphones, was startled. "Sister Lei! You scared me!" Seeing who it was, Milan stuck out her tongue.

Ann Lei smiled slightly, looked over at the remnants of the poster at the end of the shooting range, wrinkled her nose, and hummed, "Why waste energy shooting at him? Come over to my place for dinner."

"Sure." Milan quickly took off her white lab coat, grabbed her bag, and linked arms with Ann Lei as they walked towards the lab's door.

One gentle and graceful, the other intellectual and pure, the two beautiful girls walking together were as close as real sisters.

In such a chaotic world, what knot can't be untied?

After seeing the battlefield footage of a battered Magic Beast jumping off a cliff, their feelings for the same person made the two crying girls the best of friends.

They each made efforts to comfort and take care of the other. Listening to each other's confessions and easing each other's unease, it was a mutual warmth. They suddenly realized how fortunate it was to have a sister who shared similar experiences and thoughts in this crazy world where nothing was certain. Unknowingly, they developed a subtle mutual reliance.

The girls didn't know this was a psychological phenomenon called transference, often occurring between a patient and a psychologist. To them, they just saw each other as family until they heard that Fatty was still alive, and even until now. Perhaps this subtle relationship would continue between the two tactfully aware girls.

Upon leaving the academy, the sunlight in Gallipalan had dimmed a bit. There were noticeably fewer pedestrians on the street, mostly women and the elderly, with the rare young man passing by who was either a student or a busy soldier preparing for battle.

Most of Leray's young men had donned uniforms and headed to the battlefield. If they were to return to their hometowns soon, it would usually be only in one way, by being killed in action. Their names would return first, appearing on electronic billboards along the streets and in the squares.

With men on the battlefield, much of the production and daily work was taken on by women. The tender women of the Leray Federation showed extraordinary resilience. Without complaints or nagging, they simply did men's work as a matter of course. They seemed like resilient vines, unbent by any storm. And when gathered together, they could support a sky of their own.

The light curtain televisions at the street corners displayed swift reports of victories at the front. For this nation desperately resisting the pincer attack of two Empires, nothing boosted morale more than victory news, big or small, certain or uncertain.

Walking silently along the deserted walkway outside the academy, watching the few sporadic flying cars trudging along the road, the two girls fell into a moment of silence. Trying to sound as relaxed as possible, Ann Lei said, "Mother Ann managed to get some fish today; it's not easy. Tonight, she's making her specialty six-flavor fish."

The energy for flying cars had been restricted for some time. While staple foods were not yet scarce, daily necessities and meat, poultry, and fish were already being rationed. Leray was enduring its toughest times, with the end of the war nowhere in sight.

"Sister Lei," Milan whispered, clutching Ann Lei's hand, "has there been any news of him lately?"

"Nothing much." Ann Lei bit her lip, reluctant to mention the fierce battles in Mezrich, where there's hardly a safe day amidst the flames of war.

Each time she thought of Tian Xingjian still there, Ann Lei felt anxious and panicked, fearing the arrival of bad news from the front lines. She couldn't endure such a blow again. Once was in Abnosk, and then back in Leray, seeing the battlefield footage of him jumping off a cliff amidst thousands of soldiers was another.

Every time, the pain was searing, as if leaving no other reason to go on living.

As an Intelligence Bureau officer, Ann Lei had many opportunities to access front-line intelligence. And this time, she knew that in Mezrich, Tian Xingjian was leading the Freedom Front and the Newly-built 19th Division to block the Reinhardt Group.

The disparity in troops was a fourfold difference, and the domestic activities suggested that there might be a major battle plan involved.

Ann Lei dared not think further and only hoped that her transfer application would be approved, allowing her to be with him in Gazalin. She sighed softly, her mind in turmoil, knowing that the chances of approval were slim.

Milan didn't press further. Instead, she silently calculated the possibility of sneaking into Mezrich via a smuggling ship. She secretly thought, "I can't just keep waiting like this. I have to catch that Fatty no matter what."

****

Fatty naturally didn't know that he had already been accounted for by someone; he stood gaping at the image on the long-range viewer, his eyes protruding like those of a dead fish.

On the long-range viewer's screen, a gold-and-silver Apollo, escorted by three differently modified Private Mechas, walked up a small hill where the Vajra Mechanical Armor Group was gathering.

Reinhardt had surfaced, but attempting to attack him was nothing short of a daydream.

The four mechas paced slowly up the barren hill's spine. Looking down from behind them, lines of mecha teams were advancing, stretching beyond the horizon, dispersed over hills, woods, and plains, resembling ants crossing occupied trench zones, roads, and fields. In the distance on Resource Road No. 2, logistical support vehicles wound their way in a mighty procession.

At the small hill's forward deployment area, numerous assorted mechas gathered in large attack formations. Single Soldier Mechas, Medium-sized Mechas, and Heavy Mechas formed line after line of waves a hundred meters apart.

One could imagine the spectacular and terrifying scene when these mechas launched an all-out assault. Little Pi roughly calculated; the front line comprised two regiments, with one regiment on each flank. This meant Reinhardt had deployed a whole division in the first wave in this direction!

And such attacks would be launched again and over with the support of the continuous waves of mechas behind them!

At the forward deployment area, the mechas were preparing for battle. Maintenance personnel pushed automatic detectors, opened the mechas' data interface covers, and plugged in lines for final data checks. Crowds of logistical personnel drove small tracked vehicles to attach missiles or install additional armor on the mechas.

At the very back, Command Mechas, electronic mechas, maintenance vehicles, and logistical carts were moving. Some vehicles that had completed their tasks were ready to leave the deployment area.

Along the long departure staging area, the Reinhardt Group's mechas stretched like the tide along the coast, disappearing into the distance.

"This life is unbearable!" Tian Xingjian felt a bitter taste in his mouth. From the start, this battle had destined him to be the loser; the only value was whether his failure could bring hope for victory to the eastern line.

He activated Logic, preparing to sneak back to his position; it was time he returned to division headquarters. If they were breached, he needed to personally lead the troops to hold off the enemy, preventing Reinhardt from advancing unimpeded. As he got up, he glanced at the Apollo on the hill and an idea suddenly flashed in his mind.

Under the pressure of holding the lives of all the warriors of six divisions and feeling as restrained as a dog tied to Prisk's southwest gate unable to budge, this dangerous idea in the Special Soldier-turned-Fatty burned more fiercely like a fire!

**********

Tomorrow and the day after, there will be three updates. If I say now that I'm kidding, would you hit me?

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