"Can I really try?"

"Of course: General Nostromos asked us to train you and your companions. Go ahead, don't be afraid."

Tristessa hesitated for a moment, until the calm expression and a nod from the woman sitting next to her convinced her. To take the metal handset connected to the main equipment by a cable and said in a clear voice:

"This is Camp Argos. Testing…testing…can you hear me? Over."

They were sitting around that massive, cubic contraption full of wires, levers and coils which gave off a lot of heat. It was a hybrid of metal and thick wood, which Tristessa had described as a giant telephone.

It took up more than half of the large tent, made of fabric so heavy that it had to be held up by six rigid metal poles and four more flexible ones. The other half was reserved for her, the military communications technician, and Auron, who was focused into cleaning one of his two revolvers with a soft cloth.

"…"

A loud crackle of static erupted from the speaker as Tristessa pressed the button indicated by the woman, whose tangled brown hair and freckled face were stained black oil and dirt. She was not wearing armor, but black overalls with two tool belts at different heights on her prominent chest.

"Please allow me," she requested Tristessa. One of the dozens of adjustable wrenches she selected from her lower belt seemed to hold the solution to a problem only she had seen.

"Yes, Miss Hilda."

The soldier, an expert in experimental communications, used the tool to move two cranks surrounded by numerous exposed copper wires. These wires, along with other electromagnetic components, converged on a power crystal stored inside a glass container at the exposed heart of the machine.

Tristessa detected a slight fluctuation in the crystal's light intensity once Hilda stopped with the adjustments. Faint and generating small arcs of electricity around it through elemental glyph configurations.

Hilda nodded silently to her, giving her permission to try again.

"Testing, Sev. Can you hear me?" she asked, her lips almost touching the cold handset. "Come on, the next blood elf who answers me in the next couple seconds will win a kiss, over."

"From you? Ew..." Severus's distorted voice came from inside the machine's speakers, making Tristessa grin from ear to ear. The magic of telecommunications, something she remembered as an everyday aspect of life on Earth, was taking its first steps on Nekrom. "You, more than anyone, should take this more seriously."

"Oh, come on, is this how you talk to someone who misses you so much?" she asked, pretending she was about to burst into tears. "I've gotten used to having you by my side, Sev! And now you're so…!"

Because she spoke with feigned pain in her voice, a large mass of black fur moved near Tristessa's feet, almost knocking her off her chair: Vergil instantly sprang to his paws and attempted to comfort his owner by bringing his snout close to her face and trying to lick her with that foul-smelling tongue hidden among hundreds of terrifying, razor-sharp teeth.

"Graaa!"

"W-wait, Vergil! Down, down I said, or Hilda will throw you out!" she whispered, both hands pressing down on the lesser demon's head. She tried to force him back to the ground, while the soldier watched the scene with no amusement. "Go with Auron, he'll play with you!"

"Sure, thanks for asking him to come bother me, lady… No, no, wait, at least let me holster my revolver, you beast!"

Amidst all the chaos caused by the aracross curled up against the gunslinger's legs, Severus still tried to communicate, almost shouting.

"What did you say?! I didn't hear that last part, over!"

"I told you I miss you, now that you're so far away, over!"

"Don't exaggerate. It's not like I went to another Dominion… If you want to complain, take it up with Lord Youngblood for ordering Silverthorn and me to go north of Entrana and you two to the south… Over."

Referring to the contents of the Imperial Advisor's letter, the group had been divided. So as they could offer support and intelligence about the witches to the military forces Janos Youngblood had managed to mobilize in just a few hours. A dozen soldiers were to guard the Hexel Highway and another dozen the Meridion Highway. With lookouts and scouts positioned further ahead with communication devices like that giant telephone. So that they could alert the camps about any unusual or suspicious activity.

None of the three heroes chosen by Tristessa had solid experience fighting the Coven—at least not in the present day. But she had made sure to tell them everything she knew about that group of lunatics: their guerrilla warfare tactics, the level of inhuman cruelty they displayed to terrify their victims, and the abilities she had witnessed from the Priestess of the Black Eye…

Thinking that the confrontation against that evil and the salvation of the Mercer-Archeos was drawing near, Tristessa could barely contain her urge to vomit from so much anxiety and mental exhaustion. That's why saying sweet things to her favorite blood elf through that handset, like a teenager in love from Earth, helped a lot to keep all that stress under control.

At least until the moment pandemonium broke loose, and everything achieved in that loop was at risk of becoming nothing more than a memory…

"Aren't you happy to hear my voice?"

"You forgot to say over. And we'd be happy to hear your snores, insomnia girl."

This time Astoria's voice came out loud and irritated from inside the speaker. Clearly angry about the issue she brought up with Tristessa every day, and with good reason, given the dark circles under her eyes and the oiliness of her skin and hair that she couldn't get rid of even after bathing twice a day.

"Aww, you miss me too, Tori?" Tristessa purred, her cheeks and ears glowing red as she tried to ignore Hilda's uncomfortable shift on the chair. "Don't worry, we'll be together soon enough. Us four, I don't want anyone jealous over me, hehe… Over."

"Shut the fuck up. Auron, don't you have anything to say to her? Over."

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"That machine is worth a fortune in [great soul-jewels], I'm not getting involved," the gunslinger stated clearly. Without even looking up or interrupting his task, while he tried to restrain the affectionate aracross with his legs and prevented it from snuggling up to him. "Complain to the expert here, over."

"You're not helping, you greedy bastard… Miss Technician, why are you letting that girl use your machine? Over."

The woman named Hilda chuckled.

"I could ask you the same thing, Malak Drakan," she joked, playing along despite their authorization by order of the General. "You shouldn't be touching such delicate military equipment either, over."

"The technician at this camp got sick from the food and asked us to test the frequency while he fertilized the entire Hexel Valley. Over."

"Too much information… Well, I should probably cut the transmission now," Tristessa said, seeing Hilda's hand gestures. "Be very careful, yes? Anything you need… Anything at all, please let us know."

"You forgot to say over, again. And yes, we will. You do the same… And stay calm, you're going to need it." Severus sounded less hostile than usual. An attempt to offer support to someone he detested for who she was. "Take care of her, will you, Auron? Over."

"Of course: until I'm as rich as a banker from Mortalis, I won't let anything bad happen to her, over."

"And don't forget that to enjoy all that fortune, you also have to stay alive, Casimir." Astoria's warning sounded with the icy harshness expected of her, though all it managed to do was make the gunslinger chuckle. "Over."

"Try not to bathe in witches' blood, Blackguard. Over."

"Yeah, screw you… You're forbidden to die, and that goes for you too, Tristessa! Or I'll be the one to kill you both!" the knightess threatened them both. "Camp Belsen, over and out!"

After Astoria finished speaking and bid them farewell with proper military nomenclature, pure static filled the tent, forcing the technician to manipulate the machine's cranks again to silence completely it for the time being.

"You're lucky to have so many friends who care about you, Miss Irandell," Hilda told her, smiling with a touch of healthy envy. "Perhaps I should send letters to mine..."

"Friends…" Auron rose from his seat, muttering more to himself and patting Vergil on the head before leaving the tent. "Thinking of partners like that is the kind of commitment that ends up killing us all."

Hilda hadn't heard him, already focused on further optimizing the exposed part of the machine's structure with her tools. But Tristessa had, and silently she took her aracross outside, in pursuit of her companion.

To say that the Imperial forces stationed south of Entrana had erected a complete blockade of the Meridion Highway was no exaggeration. Tents and small rustic barracks had been set up midway between Entrana and Feydra Forest. The patrols had fields and barren land cleared of any visual obstruction as far as the eye could see; infantry on foot marched in synchronized formation for several hundred paces around, while others stood motionless in the middle of the highway to act as tollbooths: no one without identification or proof of being an Entranian citizen could pass, without exception.

"Thank goodness Astoria did a great job with my fake ID," the gray-eyed girl thought, her hand resting on her right pocket to feel the flat surface of the document she kept there jealously guarded, stepping out of the way as a squad of six soldiers passed by. All those eyes inside their helmets, looking at her with the disgust reserved for someone whose soul exuded vast quantities of Discord. "Did you go to our spot, Auron?"

Very close to the camp was that stretch of riverbank where the two of them had carried out surveillance that had yielded more than favorable results: were it not for that, Bran Jade would surely never have made it to the city alive.

And now the gunslinger had returned to that place, wanting to use one of the shattered boulders to sit on. He looked thoughtful, perhaps lost in thoughts of matters that were none of Tristessa's business.

"Miss Irandell?"

But before she could pry into what didn't concern her, someone approached her. A man whose mere presence caused every soldier to stop and salute him with a hand on their chest and a bow.

He was burly and wore full black armor. The plates that made up his greaves, breastplate, and bracers were marked with non-energized glyphs. His shoulder guards held a holder for a large, dark steel shield reinforced with edges of a gleaming metal that reflected the meager daylight. His footsteps sounded heavy thanks to his reinforced boots, leaving deep footprints in the ground.

He wasn't wearing a helmet, revealing his square jaw, a nose that had suffered countless fractures during years of battle, and broad, rugged cheekbones, creating curves that gave him a rough expression marked on his face. This impression clashed with his calm and reasonable brown eyes.

"You are… General Zephyr."

By some miracle Tristessa remembered right then the name of the man who was not only the person in charge of the operation approved by Janos Youngblood, but also the military commander of the local branch of the Imperial army, second only to Aurelia Eramisaptor.

Zephyr Malak Nostromos.

"I'm sorry, I was distracted." Tristessa lowered her head awkwardly in a quick attempt to show respect to this walking mountain whose presence even Vergil respected, sitting on his hind legs. "I…"

"Raise your head," the man instructed, stern but professional. Standing firm as a statue in front of her and crossing his arms—since it was impossible for him to put his hands behind his back with that gigantic shield in the way. "I wasn't informed that you are a dragoon. Your aracross seems very well trained."

"It's a small, adorable gift from Madame Luchie, General. He saved my life by taking me to Entrana in the midst of the Evil Dream," she explained, stroking Vergil's head and eliciting small, positive growls from him.

"Admirable. I haven't had a chance to speak with you before…and I see you've heard of me."

"It's very difficult not to hear about you and your leadership of the local forces," Tristessa said shyly. "It's an honor to meet you."

"Hmm… The Shield of Brotherhood teaches us from childhood to treat our fellow citizens with humility and respect. It distinguishes us from the vile enemies of the north, as well as from the witches who plague the forests of the south," he explained, standing motionless against the gust of wind that shook the tents and forced Tristessa to shield her eyes with one hand and squint.

When the girl looked ahead again, she saw that Zephyr's gaze was fixed on the distance, in the direction of the city, where the wind was blowing. As if it were a threat he couldn't stop, being just a few Imperial sights away. His home, the fortress he had sworn to protect.

A city that, in the distance, was obscured by the horizon, riddled with gray clouds that stretched across the sky, the Evil-Warding Pillar being the only human structure that nature couldn't hide that day behind layers capable of obscuring even the sun's brilliance.

"General?"

"...on the other hand, the honorable Shield of Ill-Omen informed me that you experienced the horrors of the Coven head on," he continued, turning his attention back to her and away from the home that worried him so much. "Technically speaking, you are the expert here. The one who knows the most about that sinister subject."

"E-excuse me, General, but don't you think you're exaggerating? I'm just a clumsy girl who doesn't even know how to use her knife," she lamented, clapping the sheath that kept her hunting knife protected with one hand.

"There's a world of difference between humility and patheticness. Don't fall into the latter." With that admonition, Tristessa looked down at the ground, ashamed. "I need your knowledge and attention to detail to ensure the success of this mission, which has two objectives: to find and protect the Crywolf trader's caravan, and to destroy the Coven faction pursuing her. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes, sir." Tristessa nodded, wanting to absorb the determination of a veteran like him. Determination she had been slowly losing since the freezing and invasion of her mind palace. "I swear I…"

"General! Miss Irandell! Come here, please!" From the tent with the communications equipment, Hilda called out to the two of them, enthusiasm spreading across her face, slick with sweat and oil. "We have news from the Unar lookout post to the south!"

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