As the low, incessant droning of the bureaucrats and bigshots in the auditorium echoed off the walls, Aziz found himself rubbing his hands and tapping his feet. The frantically gesticulating nobles of the Western Holdings and the Southern Assembly was a sight for sore eyes, and it didn’t take long before Aziz decided to close his eyes. Some odd, burning itch, inflamed by the atmosphere, had taken hold of his insides, and the colonel had to restrain his urge to scream out into the uncaring void.

It was something he’d felt long ago, back when the Second Extermination begun. When he, as a new soldier, wanted to do something — anything — to stop the invaders, only to be stuck in training. He wasn’t alone back then, since most of his fellow trainees were equally indignant back then.

As a trainee, he thought that was courage.

Now, as someone who had lived through so many battles, Aziz could finally recognise the true form of that burning itch.

It was fear.

A fear of being unable to do anything meaningful. A fear that their efforts would be trampled upon like grass beneath one’s heel. A fear that came from not knowing the enemy’s motive.

Aziz breathed out slowly, and the world he saw cleared up. The people ruling Orb were like him. They feared the changes that had been and will be wrought by the Abyss Sovereign, an enemy that apparently came out from nowhere. The sudden appearance of the enemy was so well-timed, it was as if Orb itself was displeased at the Demon God’s failure to wipe out the Five Lands.

“One silver for your thoughts,” said Marie.

“One silver? Really?” Aziz rubbed his nose. “Shouldn’t it be a gold or something?”

“Considering that we’re probably all thinking the same thing, some depreciation is in order,” Marie replied. “Besides, it’s not like I’m actually paying you or vice-versa.”

“Tis the principle of the thing, marshal.” Aziz folded his arms. “And I’m afraid you’ve gotten it wrong this time. I was thinking about my fear itself. Not the events that occurred in the past few hours.”

“Thinking about your fear?”

Aziz nodded. “It is good to know the source of your emotions and why’re you’re feeling something. From how Minister Pauline is nodding her head rapidly, I can tell that she agrees with me on this subject, leaving you the odd one out.”

“Hey.”

The colonel chuckled, and then looked around. Gesturing with his left hand, Aziz said, “Look at these men and women. All of them are terrified, but I’m fairly certain that quite a few of them — specifically those who exploit the demographic the Abyss Sovereign is targeting — do not want to confront the source of their fear. Little wonder that they could never advance into a Knight back then.”

“Well said,” Pauline murmured. The Republic’s Minister of State closed the small book in her hand. “This festival of creation will have the greatest effect on the nations that chose to rule with an iron fist and archaic structures.”

“In that case,” said Marie, “why are you feeling fear, Aziz?”

“Me? I don’t know about the others, but I am afraid of being unable to do anything. Against a foe as horrible as this, I find a streak of rashness in my body, a rashness that compels me to do something against the greatest foe, lest I die without a deed to my name.” Aziz snorted. “Stupid, am I not?”

“It’s natural, if you ask me.” Pauline closed her eyes. “We are transient existences. As such, a desire to be remembered as someone is to be expected from us all. People seek fame not just to be recognised in life, but to also be remembered in death too. The ancient families carry out complex ceremonies to honour their ancestors, in the hope that their own descendants will honour them some day.”

“Does that apply to you?” Aziz asked.

“Naturally.” The minister smiled. “But should Orb be destroyed when Celestia is born, all this will be destroyed. Our legacies, the very proof of someone’s existence, will no longer exist. A cynical person might argue that this is the reason why the great gods find the creation of Celestia so…abhorrent.”

“Let’s just hope that isn’t the case, then.” Marie glanced at the stage, where a bunch of military officers from the North were setting up whatever new-fangled artefacts that had been created.

Aziz stared at them for a moment, before turning his gaze to the foremost amongst equals in the Republic of Francois. “Right, I never got around to asking, but what’s this meeting about? Didn’t we settle the chain of command and the briefing already?”

“New information that the North deemed necessary to transmit as is,” Pauline replied. “Specifically, about the defences and line-up of the enemy forces. As well as our new, uh, reinforcements.”

“I thought we were going to have a meeting on how to surrender appropriately,” Aziz mumbled. “Look at that enormous clash earlier. The great gods were beaten so badly that it feels like a bad dream to me. And did you feel the Abyss Sovereign as he literally powered up in front of our eyes? I sure did, minister. And we have to fight that monster?”

“Yeah, I know.” Pauline grimaced. “That’s why…”

She lowered her voice. “We’re pulling out of the coalition forces, with the excuse of internal dissent.”

“Eh?”

“Eh?”

“To be honest, morale is at an all-time low. The populace is tired of war. And many soldiers want to quit. If we force the matter, we’ll be seeing a mass mutiny on our hands.” Pauline sighed. “Fortunately, as long as we don’t move you guys away, the other nations won’t mind.”

“…I demand a pay rise,” Marie mumbled. “And I’m resigning after the next three months.”

Aziz nodded. “And we’ll no longer dive into the enemy frontlines.”

“Sure.” Pauline shrugged. “On a personal basis, I also think that the soldiers of the Republic should just spend the last three months in peace and with their loved ones. It’s not like we’re actually going to win anyway.”

“Don’t look so surprised.” Leaning back on her chair, she closed her eyes. “Don’t you two think the same?”