In the mobile HQ of the invading Great Corporate United, a small tumult broke out among the soldiers.

The HQ was by any means large considering it was, in reality, a mobile contrivance brought by the Great Corporate United to establish themselves on the island. This marvel landed far on the island's north, commencing the mass extermination.

At first glance, two hangars sandwiched the main building and parking lot at the center. With a giant ramp connecting the flat ground and the base, military vehicles could be mobilized at a moment's notice without hindrance.

"We've lost an outpost...?"

The Great Corporate United's General, a stoic man with an ostentatious deep blue military uniform emblazoned with gold stars and stripes said this with narrowed eyes.

"Um, from what the resource team reported, this mysterious armed forces appeared from nowhere and took down the stationed troops. There'd also been multiple sightings of them at the other outposts, and... they're winning."

The General intertwined his fingers together as he considered the news delivered. Besides these two, five soldiers each lined up along the left and right dark walls decorated with glistening pale blue lines from ceiling to floor. Hanging on the wall behind the General was a Canadian flag, conspicuously reminding the soldiers of which country they were devoting their service to.

"Private Derrick Jones, what do you think of this?" called the General, his military hat shadowed his expression.

"Yes, Sir!" Derrick took a few steps forward from the line of soldiers on the General's right. He saluted at the General as a gesture of respect before the subordinate answered.

"If I may be so blunt, Sir, I think that the resistance group is made up of capable soldiers who'd seen the horrors on the frontline. The ones General had assigned to take over and guard that outpost were outstanding in every regard, and yet..."

"Capable soldiers, you say...? If they're merely a group hastily formed by the islanders to fight us, then this feat shouldn't be possible. More so with how quick they'd done it."

"Sir," said Sergeant Campbell from the line of soldiers on the General's left. "May I speak?"

"Go on. Your suggestions are always welcome, Sergeant."

"Thank you, General," said Campbell.

He straightened his posture and stared into the General's eyes.

"So, we know this island is isolated, far to the east from Newfoundland and Labrador, the easternmost province in Canada. And yet, the armed forces are equipped with heavy firearms and obviously, they have experience using them. How are they in possession of such weapons? It doesn't make sense, correct? The islanders couldn't have formed such a group so quickly in retaliation to our movement."

"Oh...? Are you saying that they're not the islanders, Sergeant?"

"I'm afraid not. At least from my perspective. This island can be compared with a few small islands in the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. Some major islands near the mainland that had undergone infrastructure development don't have military bases nor firearm suppliers, but they do have small cities sparsely placed throughout their land."

"...I remember how the monarch proposed for our Canada to start developing these islands. Including this one we're attacking, the Sea-Maiden Island. The islands' development was meant for trade purposes and tourism. That was in 2011, wasn't it?"

"Exactly a decade ago, General," confirmed Sergeant Campbell, "Continuing my inference, Sir, I think those people resisting us came from somewhere else. And with them were the weapons they used against us. They must have placed a spy within our ranks beforehand, which would explain how our soldiers could be intercepted so quickly."

"Wait. You don't mean they're involved with a certain country out there, right?" said the General with a sharp tone, "Interesting. Which country dares to challenge us?"

"That... I don't know, Sir. My apologies. But whichever country this group originated from, they're not afraid to send their soldiers over here to fight us."

"They can also be mercenaries."

"That is true, Sir."

"...What do you think we should do?"

"I think you know the answer to it yourself."

The General's mouth curved into a smile at Campbell's reply, as if this subordinate of his knew him very well. Such a situation was not uncommon for him. Campbell's achievements when he was only a cadet had reached the General a few years back, and one too many times, he never ceased to be fascinated by his straightforward demeanor.

"Pay no heed to this group fighting us. As for the spy, I'll know what to do. We're only here for one purpose and that is to exterminate everyone on the Sea-Maiden Island. It was a task handed to us, the Great Corporate United, by none other than the Minister. So continue forward, soldiers. Non-stop. Crush anyone that dares to stand in our way."

"Yes, Sir!!"

The information exchange lasted for fifteen minutes. Dismissed by the General, the soldiers previously gathered in that room took their leave one after another except for one.

"Sergeant, I need to speak with you," said the General just as Campbell was about to walk out through the door.

"Yes, Sir."

Private Derrick Jones cast a sidelong glance at the General before he disappeared into the outside corridor. When everyone had left, Sergeant Campbell closed the door and walked up to the General.

"What did the resource team say?" asked the General to Campbell.

"Aside from the mysterious group? There's this report saying that... a kid had killed our comrades. Specifically, the ones stationed at the outpost recently captured by us."

"...Anyone else knows about this?"

"I'm afraid only Sergeant Lumiere, and us, have this information, Sir."

"This is highly confidential. Just to be sure, I'd made certain that the resource team withholds any information regarding the islanders' kids from everyone else but us," said the General.

He then breathed a sigh. "Having them knowing about a kid murdering our men would cause chaos. I'm not doubting anything, but a kid killing armed soldiers is a horror story in itself, a grim folktale... Anyway, I'm sure you're aware of this mission's primary objective, correct?"

"Yes. Any child we find during this mission must be captured, and promptly killed afterward. If any of them is still alive after the execution, then he or she shall be escorted to him. When you think about it, this objective is quite detailed as if the higher-ups know something we don't."

"Indeed..."

The General drew his eyebrows together as his right index finger tapped at his table's smooth surface.

"To be perfectly certain, did any of the soldiers caught wind of this?"

"So far, no. But I did notice Private Derrick Jones's disapproval of how the Great Corporate United does things. What do you make of this, General?"

"Let him be. He's a greenhorn—a pawn I can easily eliminate if he even so much as to lift a finger against the Great Corporate United."

"I see... Regarding the kid that killed your soldiers—"

"They're also your soldiers," interjected the General with a grin.

"My apologies. What I'm trying to say is the kid responsible for our loss seems to have some strange... abilities. I don't know how she killed the Teria soldiers since our drone arrived there a little too late, but... could it be that this kid is the one the higher-ups are looking for?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'd seen the footage myself, Sir. And... I don't know how to describe this exactly."

"Just tell me," insisted the General.

"...There were swords, of some sort, that sprouted from the kid's back. From what it looked like, she used it to protect herself and I suspect she also used it against our comrades."

"..."

The General was not one to entertain jokes, much less when it was brought up in a serious conversation. So, when he heard Campbell explained, he took every word he uttered as facts in its entirety.

"A living weapon. One powerful enough to oppose the Great Corporate United," said the General after Campbell's explanation.

"I can see why the higher-ups are hiding this. The kid is a threat to all of us," commented Campbell.

"...It doesn't matter. We're only here to carry out our mission handed to us. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Very true, Sir."

"Hey, Jones."

A fellow Private slung his arm over Derrick while the man was sitting on a chair, an EX 550 assault rifle in both hands.

These two were in one of the maintenance rooms along with a few other comrade-in-arms. While most of them there were Privates maintaining their issued rifles—a Corporal in the room stood out from everyone else. His gloved hands ran over his own standard EX 550 rifle as he scrubbed its naked barrel with a brush. Slowly, he made his way to the midnight black handguard connected to the barrel and then scrubbed at the rifle's optic mount.

"Hehe......." A smile flitted across the Corporal's face as he cleaned the dust buildup on his rifle.

"...Corporal, you'd dismantled your rifle, correct? And you'd cleaned its components too if I'm not mistaken. So, why are you cleaning the outside? You just need to make sure the barrel's inside is empty of carbon buildup and you're good to go," said one private who'd been observing the Corporal.

Hearing this, the superior cast a withering glare in the poor soul's direction and he flinched in response.

"Just the barrel? Cleaning only its inside components? Private, your ignorance will cost you your life if you don't change that attitude. Maintaining a rifle is not just about its barrel. True, if the barrel's compromised, then your gun's accuracy is next to zero. But that's not all there is to rifle maintenance."

"Y-Yes, Sir..."

"You're taking this lightly. Remember your training when you were a cadet. Hang onto it, the knowledge and experience, and you'll not die a stupid death. Probably."

"Yes, Sir!"

Derrick and his friend watched on as the Corporal's lecture echoed throughout the small room.

"So, have you cleaned the ejector?" asked Derrick's friend with a grin.

"I did."

Derrick placed his assault rifle on a sleek white table and turned to his friend.

"So, what're you doing here? You don't bring your rifle with you," said Derrick.

"Come with me for a sec."

"Huh...?"

Derrick followed his friend to a secluded corner outside of the maintenance room. He figured it could be an important matter, and his guess was not far off when the other Private started the conversation with a whisper.

"Our orders. So far, what do you think of them?"

"...You want my opinion?" asked Derrick.

"Of course. The others have been saying that this mission is... It doesn't sit right with me. From the moment we got ourselves here, the first order that the General gave us was to eliminate everyone in the area. What's up with that? This island is a part of Canada too so why are we killing our own people? The civilians here are innocent... aren't they?"

"..."

"Except for some who the General wants alive, we... ugh... I saw kids getting killed in front of my eyes, Jones!"

"I know..."

"Shouldn't we say something to the higher-ups? Ask them why we're killing these islanders? They don't give us much context anyway so I'm sure they'll tell us what we want to know."

"I don't think that would work. We're Privates, Evan. We don't have the right to go against their orders."

"Then what do you think we're supposed to do!? Just sit back and watch as innocents die!?"

Derrick caressed his temples and looked up at the ceiling. The image of his 10-year-old daughter back home came to mind. "What you're trying to suggest will affect me and my family, in a negative way."

"Then you should—"

"Should what?" said a stern voice behind the two Privates.

Derrick and Evan turned their head to look at a tall military officer standing behind them, his arms behind his back.

"...Sergeant Campbell," said Derrick under his breath.

"What's wrong? Continue," provoked Campbell, his feet took a step back to encourage them.

"...Sir," said Private Evan Hunter, "What you heard was just—"

"To remind you two, we have no right to question the orders we'd received. We're former soldiers. We don't have the privilege of those in the military who serve the country in public. Not anymore."

"...Yes, Sir," said both Derrick and Evan.

"We're ghosts of our former selves. Forced to enlist in the Canadian penal military unit, Brunhilde."

"Then why are we working with those people, Sir? Those... from the private military company. They're not a part of our unit and yet..."

"They're separate from us, Private Evan Hunter. But that's what makes the Great Corporate United what it is for everyone in the military. It's our nature. The Great Corporate United in its current state is an organization composed of us from Brunhilde, soldiers cast away, punished by our own country—and Sigurd, a private military company that for all we know possess hi-tech military weapons. Our purpose now is only to obey those in the upper echelons. And obey them we shall do. Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes, Sir!"