The judgment of whether to view this as unfortunate or fortunate may vary.
According to a report from Shuen, who continued to mimic the operator, the group of Counters and Metis is aiming for an ancient defense facility where they can rest, while a group from Rapture is approaching.
The approximate number is 200 units. If they supplement this not-so-pleasant information, it seems that the enemy forces are increasing as they advance.
─ It has become quite troublesome.
Metis and Counters, though minor, have suffered damage. Without completing their repair and maintenance, it will be difficult to take any action, let alone resist.
"...Maxwell and Drake are the only ones in the Metis squad who can fight as before."
Even if it's a minor squad, Metis boasts the strongest, and they can be considered a suitable force.
Moore, with a lit cigarette in his mouth, leaned against the wall with his backpack on his back, sitting on the floor while exhaling purple smoke.
Looking left and right, Laplace was in the corner of the room with both knees raised, burying her face, and near her, Drake was lying on his back, sleeping.
On the opposite side, Anis and Neon were sitting on the floor next to each other, leaning against the wall, asleep.
Rapi is on guard outside as a lookout.
Thinking that there shouldn't be a problem with her, just as he was considering this, the door of the room suddenly opened.
"─Baby. You're still awake."
"─ I have to think about tomorrow."
"─ Ah, you don't have to put it out."
Without making a sound with her footsteps and lowering her voice, Maxwell appeared. After stopping him from putting out the cigarette he had in his mouth, she walked up to Moore's right side, sat on the floor, and casually leaned her head against his shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
"... Just a little... tired."
"... I see."
He sensed that it was mental fatigue and casually moved the assault rifle he had in his right hand to his left hand. There probably won't be an accidental discharge, but it's just a precaution.
"...Sorry."
"What is it? Like Laplace, I don't have any memories of you doing anything to apologize for."
"If you really think so... Baby, you're not just kind, but dense."
"... Is that so?"
"Yeah. Being too kind or too insensitive can hurt people."
"I see. I'm not good at dealing with people. I'll remember it for future reference."
Maxwell, who had leaned her head on his right shoulder, let out a faint laugh from the back of her throat and continued to rub her orange hair and the turquoise blue eyes on his shoulder, and she also rubbed the piercing on his left ear. With her turquoise blue eyes closed, she sighed softly.
"...I'm really sorry. I got you involved..."
"Don't apologize. I agreed to this operation of my own will. If you apologize, I won't have a leg to stand on."
─ You're really kind.
With her eyes closed, she took a deep breath, and hesitantly, as if searching, she intertwined her fingers with the hand that she found.
"...Let me stay like this a little longer. Just until you finish smoking."
To Maxwell's words, resembling a plea, Moore silently nodded.
Skillfully, he rummaged through the pouch attached to the body armor he wore like he was cradling the assault rifle in his left arm.
Eventually, after shaking the soft pack he took out and pulling out a new cigarette, he transferred the embers from the shortened one and exhaled purple smoke.
Since there was no clear criterion on how many cigarettes, it could be interpreted as until the smoking time was over.
Whether she wanted comfort or just to lean on him, Moore, deciding that she needed time, consecutively smoked one, two, and as many cigarettes as possible, savoring the purple smoke slowly.
Just as he was about to put the fifth cigarette in his mouth and transfer the embers, the door of the room opened unexpectedly again, and a familiar figure slipped into the room.
"─Commander. I apologize for the late hour. Is it okay?"
"─Ah, Rapi. Is it a change of guard? ...I'll take over, so wait a bit."
─ Ah, how unfortunate.
Maxwell, sensing that time was up, reluctantly lifted her head from Moore's shoulder and, so as not to interfere with him getting up, moved away.
Putting on his helmet again, he looked down at the excellent subordinate whose head was a head lower, removed the magazine from the assault rifle he carried, and checked the remaining bullets, but Rapi shook her head from side to side.
"No. I actually did my rounds, but... Can you accompany me?"
Something must have happened. Or maybe she found something.
Returning a nod to her request to accompany, Moore glanced sideways at Maxwell.
Maxwell, who noticed his gaze, raised a slight wry smile and, as if to say, "Go ahead," lightly waved her hand to see him off.
Rapi, who had left the room, led him. In the dusty corridor, the footsteps of two people echoed, and she held the light hanging under her chest and lit it.
"Watch your step."
"Thank you."
Even without night vision equipment, Moore's night vision was somewhat effective, but he accepted her kindness here straightforwardly.
Soon, in the middle of the corridor, they reached a breach──a large hole, possibly caused by some attack, leading to the outdoors.
Leading him, Rapi, who gripped her carried assault rifle again, soon came to a halt.
"─This way. It seems to be some sort of ammunition storage..."
A staircase leading underground to the ammunition storage was provided. Descending those stairs and slipping into the thick door that was halfway open, Laplace's light illuminated the interior.
"...Quite... something."
Spiderwebs were spread everywhere, and in the space filled with fine dust, 155mm shells for howitzers were sitting in an orderly manner. The fuze plugs were left attached to the tip. They probably had been patiently waiting here, stored in the ammunition storage, for over a century.
All the shells showed signs of rust on the surface due to aging.
There were probably dozens of them, just at a glance.
"...The service life has been exceeded, so the risk of detonation is low, but just in case..."
"...Better safe than sorry. Thanks for going through the trouble──"
"...Is something wrong?"
Moore was about to express his gratitude for the report but stopped midway and extended his hand to Laplace, who looked puzzled. Judging from his gesture, she understood that he meant to lend her the light.
Approaching one of the shells, he used the light he held to examine its surface.
While rust was present, there were no visible cracks. In that case, he slightly relaxed the corner of his mouth and returned the light to Laplace.
"...Rapi. Sorry, but go get Maxwell."
"Maxwell? Right away?"
"Yeah. Right now."
---
Soon, dawn broke.
As the eastern sky began to brighten, in the gradually brightening world, a voice with a strong impression of a wry smile murmured.
"─At first, I doubted Baby's sanity, but somehow it's working out."
"...Unfortunately, when it comes to combat, I'm serious at any time."
As if saying, "I know," Maxwell shrugged her thin shoulders at him.
Moore, carrying a rusted shell on his right shoulder, spoke. He effortlessly carried the approximately 50kg shells that had been brought out of the ammunition storage and laid on the ground.
The tip of the shells──while the ammunition storage had fuze plugs attached, they had been removed from the shells he was carrying.
"...Some of them might not detonate."
"Since we couldn't do accurate scans or inspections. But well... I think it'll work out somehow."
"Yeah, there's no reason to doubt your judgment. I believe in you."
"...Yeah. Thanks."
For now, it was what it was, and Moore didn't doubt Maxwell's judgment, even though she was accepting the situation. In response to that, she expressed sincere gratitude.
When he carried the shells to their designated positions, rusty shovels that had been attached to abandoned armored vehicles and tanks scattered around were brought into play.
They divided the work, digging into the ground, and after placing the shells in the holes, Maxwell hastily attached improvised fuzes made from available materials to the tips.
Once the fuzes were confirmed to work correctly, the carefully excavated soil was placed over the shells. They also made sure not to forget to mix in gravel and fragments of rusted vehicles.
"But think about it. Repurposing artillery shells into landmines."
"I think it's a brilliant improvisation to repurpose 155mm artillery shells."
"...Feels like I've become a terrorist. Well, this way, even the Lord-class won't get through easily."
It is common knowledge that during the first Rapture invasion, the armies of various countries were unable to withstand Rapture's onslaught. Looking at the entire campaign, that is indeed true. However, there is also the fact that in some areas, the invasion of Rapture was halted.
If humanity's weapons were useless, there would be no future for the current 10 million survivors in the Ark.
If Nikke is the goddess of victory, then the artillery shells they buried and the numerous field guns they are using are the goddesses of the battlefield.
Several dozen shells were supposed to be used by the actual goddess of the battlefield. The original intended use was different, but several dozen shells have now fulfilled their true purpose today.
Crossing time, they will deliver a blow to the Rapture scrap bastards.
Lying down in the flow of time, it is the last duty given to a body that will just decay. It should be nothing other than their true purpose.
Well, the artillery shells don't have such intentions, and there's no guarantee that they will detonate safely. With a sigh, he led Maxwell and Laplace, who were on guard, back to the point where the shells were gathered.
Then, he noticed a figure standing in the position where several shells were still placed. Maxwell muttered the name of the silhouette with a puzzled expression on her face.
"─Drake?"
Armed with a shotgun, Drake welcomed them back with narrowed eyes. Her gaze soon turned to the rusted shells lined up on the ground, and she casually lifted one with her slender arms.
"...Where should I take this?"
"Are you going to help?"
She probably guessed what they were planning to do. When Drake asked Maxwell, Moore responded with a question of his own.
In response to that tactless question, she snorted once.
"...It's a thank-you for yesterday. Don't think Villain would let the debt hang indefinitely."
As Moore, unable to grasp the true meaning, furrowed his brow, Drake's gaze shifted to his left arm—toward the prosthetic arm where the combat suit sleeve had burned off, revealing charred skin.
As if saying, "Figure it out," she started walking alone. Moore, who was about to watch her back, reconsidered that he should probably say something.
"...Drake."
"If it's thanks, not necessary."
"It's the other way around."
As soon as he informed her that they were going to bury them over there, Drake changed her direction and began walking somewhat briskly.
Recognizing her figure, Maxwell chuckled softly, and he shrugged his shoulders, lifting another shell.
The judgment of whether to view this as unfortunate or fortunate may vary.
According to a report from Shuen, who continued to mimic the operator, the group of Counters and Metis is aiming for an ancient defense facility where they can rest, while a group from Rapture is approaching.
The approximate number is 200 units. If they supplement this not-so-pleasant information, it seems that the enemy forces are increasing as they advance.
─ It has become quite troublesome.
Metis and Counters, though minor, have suffered damage. Without completing their repair and maintenance, it will be difficult to take any action, let alone resist.
"...Maxwell and Drake are the only ones in the Metis squad who can fight as before."
Even if it's a minor squad, Metis boasts the strongest, and they can be considered a suitable force.
Moore, with a lit cigarette in his mouth, leaned against the wall with his backpack on his back, sitting on the floor while exhaling purple smoke.
Looking left and right, Laplace was in the corner of the room with both knees raised, burying her face, and near her, Drake was lying on his back, sleeping.
On the opposite side, Anis and Neon were sitting on the floor next to each other, leaning against the wall, asleep.
Rapi is on guard outside as a lookout.
Thinking that there shouldn't be a problem with her, just as he was considering this, the door of the room suddenly opened.
"─Baby. You're still awake."
"─ I have to think about tomorrow."
"─ Ah, you don't have to put it out."
Without making a sound with her footsteps and lowering her voice, Maxwell appeared. After stopping him from putting out the cigarette he had in his mouth, she walked up to Moore's right side, sat on the floor, and casually leaned her head against his shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
"... Just a little... tired."
"... I see."
He sensed that it was mental fatigue and casually moved the assault rifle he had in his right hand to his left hand. There probably won't be an accidental discharge, but it's just a precaution.
"...Sorry."
"What is it? Like Laplace, I don't have any memories of you doing anything to apologize for."
"If you really think so... Baby, you're not just kind, but dense."
"... Is that so?"
"Yeah. Being too kind or too insensitive can hurt people."
"I see. I'm not good at dealing with people. I'll remember it for future reference."
Maxwell, who had leaned her head on his right shoulder, let out a faint laugh from the back of her throat and continued to rub her orange hair and the turquoise blue eyes on his shoulder, and she also rubbed the piercing on his left ear. With her turquoise blue eyes closed, she sighed softly.
"...I'm really sorry. I got you involved..."
"Don't apologize. I agreed to this operation of my own will. If you apologize, I won't have a leg to stand on."
─ You're really kind.
With her eyes closed, she took a deep breath, and hesitantly, as if searching, she intertwined her fingers with the hand that she found.
"...Let me stay like this a little longer. Just until you finish smoking."
To Maxwell's words, resembling a plea, Moore silently nodded.
Skillfully, he rummaged through the pouch attached to the body armor he wore like he was cradling the assault rifle in his left arm.
Eventually, after shaking the soft pack he took out and pulling out a new cigarette, he transferred the embers from the shortened one and exhaled purple smoke.
Since there was no clear criterion on how many cigarettes, it could be interpreted as until the smoking time was over.
Whether she wanted comfort or just to lean on him, Moore, deciding that she needed time, consecutively smoked one, two, and as many cigarettes as possible, savoring the purple smoke slowly.
Just as he was about to put the fifth cigarette in his mouth and transfer the embers, the door of the room opened unexpectedly again, and a familiar figure slipped into the room.
"─Commander. I apologize for the late hour. Is it okay?"
"─Ah, Rapi. Is it a change of guard? ...I'll take over, so wait a bit."
─ Ah, how unfortunate.
Maxwell, sensing that time was up, reluctantly lifted her head from Moore's shoulder and, so as not to interfere with him getting up, moved away.
Putting on his helmet again, he looked down at the excellent subordinate whose head was a head lower, removed the magazine from the assault rifle he carried, and checked the remaining bullets, but Rapi shook her head from side to side.
"No. I actually did my rounds, but... Can you accompany me?"
Something must have happened. Or maybe she found something.
Returning a nod to her request to accompany, Moore glanced sideways at Maxwell.
Maxwell, who noticed his gaze, raised a slight wry smile and, as if to say, "Go ahead," lightly waved her hand to see him off.
Rapi, who had left the room, led him. In the dusty corridor, the footsteps of two people echoed, and she held the light hanging under her chest and lit it.
"Watch your step."
"Thank you."
Even without night vision equipment, Moore's night vision was somewhat effective, but he accepted her kindness here straightforwardly.
Soon, in the middle of the corridor, they reached a breach──a large hole, possibly caused by some attack, leading to the outdoors.
Leading him, Rapi, who gripped her carried assault rifle again, soon came to a halt.
"─This way. It seems to be some sort of ammunition storage..."
A staircase leading underground to the ammunition storage was provided. Descending those stairs and slipping into the thick door that was halfway open, Laplace's light illuminated the interior.
"...Quite... something."
Spiderwebs were spread everywhere, and in the space filled with fine dust, 155mm shells for howitzers were sitting in an orderly manner. The fuze plugs were left attached to the tip. They probably had been patiently waiting here, stored in the ammunition storage, for over a century.
All the shells showed signs of rust on the surface due to aging.
There were probably dozens of them, just at a glance.
"...The service life has been exceeded, so the risk of detonation is low, but just in case..."
"...Better safe than sorry. Thanks for going through the trouble──"
"...Is something wrong?"
Moore was about to express his gratitude for the report but stopped midway and extended his hand to Laplace, who looked puzzled. Judging from his gesture, she understood that he meant to lend her the light.
Approaching one of the shells, he used the light he held to examine its surface.
While rust was present, there were no visible cracks. In that case, he slightly relaxed the corner of his mouth and returned the light to Laplace.
"...Rapi. Sorry, but go get Maxwell."
"Maxwell? Right away?"
"Yeah. Right now."
---
Soon, dawn broke.
As the eastern sky began to brighten, in the gradually brightening world, a voice with a strong impression of a wry smile murmured.
"─At first, I doubted Baby's sanity, but somehow it's working out."
"...Unfortunately, when it comes to combat, I'm serious at any time."
As if saying, "I know," Maxwell shrugged her thin shoulders at him.
Moore, carrying a rusted shell on his right shoulder, spoke. He effortlessly carried the approximately 50kg shells that had been brought out of the ammunition storage and laid on the ground.
The tip of the shells──while the ammunition storage had fuze plugs attached, they had been removed from the shells he was carrying.
"...Some of them might not detonate."
"Since we couldn't do accurate scans or inspections. But well... I think it'll work out somehow."
"Yeah, there's no reason to doubt your judgment. I believe in you."
"...Yeah. Thanks."
For now, it was what it was, and Moore didn't doubt Maxwell's judgment, even though she was accepting the situation. In response to that, she expressed sincere gratitude.
When he carried the shells to their designated positions, rusty shovels that had been attached to abandoned armored vehicles and tanks scattered around were brought into play.
They divided the work, digging into the ground, and after placing the shells in the holes, Maxwell hastily attached improvised fuzes made from available materials to the tips.
Once the fuzes were confirmed to work correctly, the carefully excavated soil was placed over the shells. They also made sure not to forget to mix in gravel and fragments of rusted vehicles.
"But think about it. Repurposing artillery shells into landmines."
"I think it's a brilliant improvisation to repurpose 155mm artillery shells."
"...Feels like I've become a terrorist. Well, this way, even the Lord-class won't get through easily."
It is common knowledge that during the first Rapture invasion, the armies of various countries were unable to withstand Rapture's onslaught. Looking at the entire campaign, that is indeed true. However, there is also the fact that in some areas, the invasion of Rapture was halted.
If humanity's weapons were useless, there would be no future for the current 10 million survivors in the Ark.
If Nikke is the goddess of victory, then the artillery shells they buried and the numerous field guns they are using are the goddesses of the battlefield.
Several dozen shells were supposed to be used by the actual goddess of the battlefield. The original intended use was different, but several dozen shells have now fulfilled their true purpose today.
Crossing time, they will deliver a blow to the Rapture scrap bastards.
Lying down in the flow of time, it is the last duty given to a body that will just decay. It should be nothing other than their true purpose.
Well, the artillery shells don't have such intentions, and there's no guarantee that they will detonate safely. With a sigh, he led Maxwell and Laplace, who were on guard, back to the point where the shells were gathered.
Then, he noticed a figure standing in the position where several shells were still placed. Maxwell muttered the name of the silhouette with a puzzled expression on her face.
"─Drake?"
Armed with a shotgun, Drake welcomed them back with narrowed eyes. Her gaze soon turned to the rusted shells lined up on the ground, and she casually lifted one with her slender arms.
"...Where should I take this?"
"Are you going to help?"
She probably guessed what they were planning to do. When Drake asked Maxwell, Moore responded with a question of his own.
In response to that tactless question, she snorted once.
"...It's a thank-you for yesterday. Don't think Villain would let the debt hang indefinitely."
As Moore, unable to grasp the true meaning, furrowed his brow, Drake's gaze shifted to his left arm—toward the prosthetic arm where the combat suit sleeve had burned off, revealing charred skin.
As if saying, "Figure it out," she started walking alone. Moore, who was about to watch her back, reconsidered that he should probably say something.
"...Drake."
"If it's thanks, not necessary."
"It's the other way around."
As soon as he informed her that they were going to bury them over there, Drake changed her direction and began walking somewhat briskly.
Recognizing her figure, Maxwell chuckled softly, and he shrugged his shoulders, lifting another shell.
