Hansel’s Bread and Breakfast, Municipality of Lingayen - 9/30/2022, 8:15 UTC+8

Hansel’s Bread and Breakfast was founded by two German expatriates who retired to the Philippines to enjoy the good life and fulfil their dreams of running a bed and breakfast. These dreams, though interrupted by war, were nevertheless not shattered as the small house of stone, wood, and thatch that they had converted into their establishment after gaining Filipino Citizenship had survived the battle thanks to Nil and her Anti-Aircraft Noble Arm. And so Noel had decided to invite Regil, his fellow child soldier, to that quaint place in order to eat, get to know him better, and yes, to see if the latter was boyfriend material.

Note that as the Philippines was an… old-fashioned country and so were the people in it, even the expats, that last part was best not spoken about.

But hey, the food was at least good! As he waited for Regil to arrive, making sure to text the location to him plus a picture as he did so, Noel ordered some bacon, eggs, and the typical Filipino staple, rice.

BGM: Satellite Cafe Terrace (Magical Astronomy)

Soon, Regil arrived at the place and looked around. As he saw Noel sitting alone at the table, he walked over there and made himself comfortable.

"Good evening, Lieutenant. I’m sorry if I’m showing up late, I don’t know Lingayen that well." He spoke.

“That’s all right,” Noel said, “I’m glad you came.”

He then handed him a menu, before saying, “I’m paying, by the way. Also, I recommend the Chorizo - It’s a type of sausage - with rice, plus some scrambled eggs and hot chocolate.”

Once Regil had decided what to order - It could be something else, for all he knew; this place did serve American and British Breakfasts - Noel prepared to ask, and finally spoke again, “So, tell me more about yourself? As far as your orders allow, of course - And no, I’m not ordering anything; I’m just genuinely curious.”

"I don’t exactly have any orders to follow. To be perfectly honest, I’m… not a regular soldier like Regina. I’m a common citizen who was called by her to help with something on her behalf." Regil answered.

He was still indecisive about what should he order. While the restaurant served British breakfast, he wasn’t actually interested in anything too heavy. In fact, he was actively searching for healthy food, like salads, and tea for beverages. Meat was something he didn’t eat in the morning, he never liked it much. In the meantime, he decided to fill Noel with other information.

As he spoke about the situation, Regil called one of the waitresses and asked for a simple English garden salad with chamomile tea. He then awaited Noel’s response in order to see what he would say about a civilian intruding into war.

There was no waitress; it was manned entirely by the old couple who owned the bed and breakfast; Hans and Greta. Greta, however, was the one who served Regil his salad and tea in record time, even as Noel sighed and said, “Thought as much; you have that look on your face that says you didn’t fully expect to be here.”

He sighed and said, “I’ll record you as a ‘Volunteer’, but we need to talk with your Government later on, all right? The United Kingdom takes a dim view of people volunteering for foreign conflicts, although the Ukraine War has lightened it up somewhat. Then again, Arms Masters offering themselves for various causes is something some politicians see as a threat to national security despite the circumstances. All I can say is, be wary.”

Do not reveal what you know, what Willard has told you. However, what you should let Regil know is that this is very irregular and that he might get in trouble despite the circumstances.

Then he sighed and said, “Just to make sure, you’re not from a Spartan Training Program, right? Those things don’t work often enough to be practical, but people keep turning to fringe cases to say that they can work… Even though the cost is too high to be justifiable to all but the most unhinged of people.”

There, Noel made a judgement, though not of Regil. Of course, this also meant that no, Noel was further away from asking Regil if he thought he was cute…

Regil understood every single risk that this whole ordeal would take him. That, and the questions Noel was asking him. There wasn’t much for him to do, other than sincerely answer his question.

"No, I’m not. I came here of my own volition, as well as by Regina’s request. I also understand the implications and, as I said before, am ready for the consequences." Regil answered.

He began to eat the salad, giving away that he was no soldier, but some refined and pampered noble. As he calmly ate away his food, he decided to go on another tangent with Noel before returning to the main topic

"Now that I think about it, I haven’t properly introduced myself. All of the conversations back at the beach were so quick because of the situation." Regil stopped eating for a moment before extending his hand to Noel. "My name is Regil Meitner. I’m Regina’s younger brother, and the Meitner family’s self-taught Noble Arm scholar… in-training. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant."

Noel shook Regil’s hand, delighting in how it was so soft and smooth while his own had some calluses, though much less than expected.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Meitner. I must say, you take good care of your looks.”

There, a hint. Hopefully it was not too blatant.

"Oh, thank you. I'm not too good with self-care, but I do try to keep myself presentable." He thanked him and continued. "And you don't have to be so formal with me. Just call me Regil."

Regil felt Noel's friendliness and ease to approach. Though he still kept the formal tone, considering their positions, so he wouldn't step out of line.

*BGM fades*

... But as much as the meeting was quite friendly-paced, Regil decided to ask something related to the war.

"Lieutenant, I'm sorry to ask this right now, but… do you have any idea why China decided to wage war against the world?"

Noel nodded and said, “Antipathy, hatred, a refusal to accept second-place when it’s been the center of the world for millenia. A belief that its system is superior to others’ own. And finally… The influence of the Downward Descent corrupting the above-mentioned impulses, making them believe that it can overcome all opposition simply because it is China and willing to do ‘what it takes to win’ and the ‘hard decsions needed to make itself strong’.”

His eyes glinted with reflected light, his good mood gone now, “It’s a seductive logic for the prideful and the egotistic.”

BGM: Suspicion (Persona 5)

As Noel explained to him how things started with China, Regil somewhat got the idea behind their reasons, but still had questions.

"So the Downward Descent has been moving within China and spiraled it to start everything… not that they don’t have the volition to do this of their own accord. But still… even with the power of Noble Arms, don’t they think it’s sort of suicidal to wage war against the world. With other big potent countries like Russia and the United States, declaring such a thing is asking for their own destruction. Or am I wrong in my statement?" Regil asked.

Noel sighed - a gesture he regretted right away - and said, “Russia is on China’s side. It claims its own ‘special military operation’ in Ukraine is a ‘parallel movement’, but no one is deceived; they’re both planning to tear down the world order and replace it with themselves.”

"An alliance between countries to overthrow the world order… But this is…" Regil said and continued. "They’re helping each other right now, but the moment their plan carves out successfully, then it’s one against the other. And with their military force and their, well, expansive land, I’m sure Russia has nothing to lose while China’s being played around. I might be diverging and imagining things, but it’s what I can amount to right now."

To Regil, there was no benefit for China to ally itself with Russia, especially knowing the rather vast difference between each country’s military power. Sure, Russia may have lost wars in the past, but history is no longer the same as back then. And China has no way of standing any chance to defeat them if combat were to fall right at their lands.

"This feels such an illogical and risky move… they’re basically acting like some playthings to test grounds." Regil sighed.

Noel nodded and said as he sipped his coffee, “You might be onto something. Playthings to test grounds…”

Then he changed the subject, “So, umm, how do you keep your hair that way? Silver, I mean? Is it dyed, or is a Noble Arm power used?”

Okay, that was a sterotypically gay - well, bi - question.

BGM: Joy (Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3)

The serious mood got cut off by Noel’s sudden question.

"My hair…? Oh, it’s from my mother’s. Her hair’s silver, so both me and Regina were born with silver hair. Though I can’t tell if it’s the genetics of it’s because of her own Noble Arm." Regil answered.

Noel stepped up his game, or tried to, saying, “You know… Your sister is very pretty; girls would say that you are, too…”

"Do you think so? Well, I’ve never been courted by any girl friends that I know. And Regina wouldn’t actually care much, she doesn’t think about romance or marriage." Regil said, innocently.

“Hmm…” Noel’s voice lowered into a whisper, “I know this is a foolish thing to ask in a Majority-Catholic country, albeit more lenient than most, but what about boys?”

"None that I recall. I don’t think that I actually have been courted by someone in my life." Regil answered, not knowing the second intention behind the question.

Noel blinked and said, “You really don’t get what I’m saying, don’t you? All right, I’ll be up-front with it. I like you, enough to want to court you, but it’s hard to know if you’d let me or just be disgusted or be scared off by how up-front I am. Is that okay?”

*BGM stops*.

But he didn’t get a yes. Not even a no. Regil just simply tilted his head, in utter confusion. Not shock from the blunt way Noel decided to expose himself, no. He genuinely didn’t understand.

"Umm… I don’t actually follow. Hmm…" Regil closed his eyes. "Oh!" And then came to an answer.

BGM: Oh, I’m a Flamelet! (Secret of Mana 2/Trials of Mana)

"This is a test! I see it now… you’re testing me to see how I’d react to a really blunt assumption thrown at me! Aaaaaah, I almost failed it! Hahaha, I can’t believe this!"

This narrator would like to remember everyone that Regil Meitner is a sheltered, logical, bookworm kid that has never experienced romance in his life. Thus, to him, this was a way for Noel to actually test his reactions to the bluntness of war, considering he never stepped in the battlefield before, with the battle from some days ago being his first one.

"Don’t worry, Lieutenant! I may be a battle novice, but I’m ready to go and help everyone. Again, I’m sorry that I made you worry, but I shall not disappoint! I’ll get the hang of things and be an impressive ally!" He said, proud that he didn’t fail the test.

“I…” Noel was speechless, seeing someone so sheltered and naive in front of him. And so he just stopped eating and drinking and bowed down his head, hiding his eyes, although his glum frown was easily visible anyway. He was going to stop doing anything at all until Regil actually got what he was saying.

If the other boy wanted a test, he’s getting one!

"In any case, you are really direct about things. That’s something I like in people! Oh, but I’m hoping that you can chase the man you’re after! I know we just met each other a few days ago, but I’m rooting for your happiness." Regil said, cheering him up. Whether or not he was sort of giving him a chance for Noel to pursue him, it was up for the Lieutenant to decide.

"Oh, but to answer your question properly about boys and girls… hmm, I never thought about it. I guess I’d be fine with both…? I’ve never gone through the proper steps of romance, though I did read something or two about it. I think I have to study a little bit more to actually decide."

Noel blinked at that, lifted his head up, and said, “Hmm, maybe I can help study? I haven’t romanced anyone myself, but I do know that sometimes, holding hands is both an innocent form of physical contact yet enough to awaken… feelings. So why don’t we try that, and if you feel nothing, we can safely say you might not be into boys…”

The idea seemed wonderful… but bookworms aren’t satisfied with just one route. No, no, just that wasn’t enough for Regil at all.

"Just that? No, no, that’s way too few steps to conduct a proper experiment. I won’t reach an answer with just that! I have to build a study plan, some field practices, gather enough information with my peers, see what I can find on the internet… so much to do in order to discover this! Hehe, I’m getting excited just thinking about doing some intensive studying again!" He said, giddy. "I’ll have to properly plan that with my continued research about Noble Arms… and then there’s my business with my sister… I think I can put that here and there and make some space in my research agenda… I just have to put that down somewhere so that I won’t forget."

Noel might have been expecting something, but Regil deviated from some romantic experience to actual academic research about love, romance, and his preferences. It was like seeing a professor build an entire field trip and even some scientific analysis to find the answer to love… if this professor was just some naive and innocent kid from the United Kingdom.

Noel decided to up his game and said, “I already paid for the food up-front. If we leave now, find a ‘make-out spot’, and I kissed you full on the mouth, will that help you in your experiment?”

*BGM stops*

But before Regil could answer, the door rang as someone got in.

BGM: Hora theae (Puella Magi Madoka Magica: Portable)

”Oh-ho, there you two are!" A voice called from afar.

When Regil looked back, Willard was at the door, waving at them. Regil called him over to sit down with them.

"I didn’t know you were in the area, Mr. Willard." Regil asked.

”Ah, I was passing by and felt hungry so I decided to stop by. And coincidentally, I bumped into you two." Willard answered. Though not exactly truthful. It wasn’t a coincidence, but both he and Regina wondered where they were and why they were taking that long. So he sort of followed them.

"I see. In any case, we were talking about making a love study!" Regil said.

”A what now?" Willard asked.

"A study about love, romance and those things! I need to discover so much and I know so little, so Lieutenant Alonso has given me this idea!" Regil answered, happy.

”Uh… huh. Lieutenant Alonso proposed that…" Willard said, looking at Noel.

"Oh, I forgot that I finished my plate already and my tea! Give me a moment, I’ll be right back!"

Regil picked up his plate and cup and went to place them at the counter. Willard looked at Noel and gave him a smile… though that meant something else.

”Well then Lieutenant… why don’t you tell me what were you actually planning to do with Regil as part of your… ahem, “love study”, eh?" Willard asked.

“I have a crush on him,” Noel was blunt. “And he’s dense and thinks this is all a test or something. So I decided to play along until he finally gets it.”

”Mmhmm, I see, I see…" Willard spoke and continued. ”You’re jumping some steps right there, my guy. Like, really good steps, let me tell you."

“Oh,” was all Noel can say about that. “Yeah… I’m inexperienced too. What steps need to be taken?”

”Ah, to be young and innocent. How cute." Willard said, sounding like an old man. ”Well, first of all, you can’t be that blunt. You have to feel the terrain, to see if you really want to grow some crops. Planting seeds on ruined soil won’t get you any good results, will it?"

Willard laughed before he continued. ”What I mean to say is… you barely know him. You just developed a crush on him, like that’s enough to convince you that Regil’s the perfect man for you. You got lucky that he doesn’t know any better, otherwise he would’ve rejected you on the spot."

Noel’s eyes opened wide, and he said, “Oh. Oh no. I… I genuinely didn’t know. I feel like a fool now…”

”Bluntness can be translated to aggressiveness, that can be translated further to desperation, that can be translated even further to “anyone works for me”. But like I said, Regil’s so pure he didn’t get that at all.” Willard said. ”So you did start with your left foot, true. But there’s still plenty of time to make it work. Let’s see…"

As a casanova himself (though only in the line of work), Willard has experience with this. Especially with a first romance such as this one. He thought well about what Noel could do with Regil.

”Well, instead of just screaming out “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, PLEASE DATE ME!!" to the poor boy, why don’t you start just as friends? Instead of leading him off with his idea, get yourself to know him better naturally. Work together, chat, and just be friendly with him. If you mislead him with this whole “study”, that’s going to bite you in the ass so hard that he might get offended, to be blunt with you.

Noel nodded and said to himself, “Be friends. Just be friends for now. No ‘love study’. Yeah, that works, but how do we pull out of this?”

Then he thanked Willard by saying, “You know, it was best that you intercepted me; it could have been Regina.”

”Be real glad, that woman would’ve seriously killed you right on the spot." Willard said. ”And about Regil, I’ll do you this favor. As your new “bro”, I suppose, haha!”

Just as he finished laughing, Regil returned to the table.

"Sorry I took so much time! Anyway, about the study, I have some ideas." Regil said, sitting down.

”Ah, but you see, we actually don’t have that much time on our hands to do that. War’s going to be very consuming and you will need to focus on that." Willard spoke.

"Aww, but I thought about we make a holding hands experiment with everyone else!" Regil said, a little frustrated.

”Regil, that’s not how that works, little guy. Love comes as a natural feeling, not some scientific result. You’ll feel it when you’ll feel it." Willard spoke, reassuring him.

"You don’t know until you try! Imagine if we could produce love that easily!" Regil answered.

”Hahaha! Oh Regil… that won’t happen. Believe me, people tried and it didn’t work.” Willard laughed and lied.

"Really? Fiddlesticks… and here I thought it would…" Regil pouted.

”Well now, why don’t we head back to the base? We still got some stuff to do there. Right, Lieutenant?” Willard asked Noel.

“Right!” Noel said, before saying to Regil, “So, had fun? I hope you at least managed to relax…”

"Oh! Yes, most certainly! This was a wonderful outing! Thank you very much!" Regil answered.

”I’m glad you two managed to take a break. Shall we go then?” Willard asked.

"You just arrived here! Don’t you want to eat something?” Regil asked him.

”I can just eat something on the way back. I’m not that hungry anyway, I’ll be fine.” Willard answered.

"If you say so. I’ll wait for you two outside!” Regil said, leaving the table.

He left them and went outside to wait for them. Taking the few seconds left before leaving, Willard talked to Noel once more.

”There, you’re saved. Now remember, don’t be desperate to get into Regil’s heart. Go slow, and then you can go steady, especially with such a cinnamon roll as our little guy is, alright?" Willard spoke.

Noel smiled and said, “Cinnamon Rolls… They’re awesome.”

And with that, he went to follow Regil.

A lone soul wandered around the structure, desperately searching for hours upon hours, for even if they got a moment of respite she knew without what she was looking for all that fighting and death would have been for naught. Nil had gotten only two chocolate bars out of forty-four.

Indeed after so much time of looking around she had lost spirit, but even still she wandered, she could give up trying to fight a strong opponent but not trying to get sweets.

While looking around Nil saw a young boy that probably shouldn't be in a combat area, but she did recognise his face from the short post-briefing with Callie and Henri, it was one of three they were looking for.

"Nemo, Niko, Neekro..." She mistakenly said outloud as the two names fused in her head.

First Lieutenant Noel Alonso was looking for Nemo, and yes, he had a small woven basket filled with pastries and a few chocolate bars tucked under his arm. Waving hi to the both of them, the young officer said, "Soldiers; you both well?"

When the young man entered the scene Nil's attention immediately shifted, not exactly on the man himself but rather on the food-filled basket he was carrying.
"Yes, from the Royal Thai Army." she said while looking nothing like a thai.

Nemo has been sitting still, waiting for new orders from his handlers when he heard someone mention him. He looked up just in time to see the commanding officer entering and addressing him. "Yes." he replied to the older boy.

Noel then went over to both, offering Nil a chocolate bar and Nemo a powdery but sweet cookie, saying, "Would you two like to eat something sweet?"

"Yes!" Nil said ecstatic, grabbing the chocolate bar and starting to eating it right away, together with the plastic wrapper of course.

Nemo stared at the cookie for a moment. He didn't understand what was happening, and simply shook his head "no".

Looking at the younger boy Nil wondered how much of a waste it was to leave that cookie, but she didn't say anything, at least it wasn't going to waste away immediately.

What was the thing about this young boy, she thought while munching on the chocolate bar and trying to remind herself what even was his name.

Noel put the cookie back in the basket and said, "All right. So, you’re looking for anything to do? Are you bored?"

"Waiting for orders to move to the library..." Nemo replied simply.

"You have permission," Noel didn't fully understand Nemo's situation, and it showed as he added, "You don't need orders; read anything you can want in the Library; nothing there is classified."

Then he asked, "What sort of books do you like?"

Nemo tilted his head, confused. Was there not someone wanting him to go to the library? He supposed if there wasn't an order to go, then it wasn't that important.
"I don't know."

Noel's expression chilled, before he said to Nemo, "...Okay, that's not normal. Tell me how you were raised; did your parents or trainers hurt you?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about that." Nemo responded.

The conversation had suddenly become tense.
"Where even is the library?" she asked Noel, trying to nag him away from that conversation with Nemo.

Noel sighs as he remembered, "Oh, right, this place doesn't have one; this used to be an auditorium where plays and theater performances were held."

He then said to Nemo, already feeling guilt at what he was going to do, "What if I order you to talk about it?"

Nemo thought for a moment. "Standing orders like that are more important, I think."

"Standing orders from who?" was the response from Noel himself.

"The handlers." Nemo said, somewhat apprehensively. He was starting to worry about the situation.

During the ongoing conversation Nil had started to feel the tension more and more and chose to stay just out of it, slowly backing away, but still close enough to the basket to grab a couple of cookies.

Noel asked next, "Did you want to be a soldier?"

"I don't remember." The boy was definitely worried at this point.

Noel saw Nemo look worried, then sighed, "I'll leave you alone, then, if you want. For all its worth, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Also, do eat the cookie if you want; it's impolite to not eat food offered to you if it's good..."

It took Callie a little while to find her target.

She had been briefed before her mission that the Imperial Princess Fuyuko Yamato would be present to provide support to the Philippines' war effort - not only as a strong combatant in her own right but also as an indication and symbol of Japan's commitment to their ally against China. If she were to be harmed... Well, there was no telling what the political ramifications would be back home - anything from her becoming a martyr whose death strengthened the case for war to a blow to morale that might cause Japan to pull back from the alliance. Better for stability in the western Pacific - and thus for US interests - that nothing like that came to pass.

And, well, Callie was ultimately here to protect US interests.

Makes sense she's not so easy to find - she's reserved, if I'm remembering. She considered for the third time summoning Charter to get a view of the place, but came to the same conclusion - that it'd just look off, inciting judgement and suspicion when she was trying to build a rapport. Even if she wanted to. So much.

Ahhh, is that... Yeah, think that's her... Is that - yep, title in Japanese, cannot read.

So, again - she's out on the field, so she doesn't care too much about protocol, and she'll probably want personal friendship from being closeted and from that trauma of hers, but still best to show respect at first. Right - breathe, Caroline. Here we go.

"Your Imperial Highness," she said in her best (still somewhat accented) Filipino, offering a bow but also composing her face into a warm smile. "If I may?"

Pause... A little vulnerability but also something to earn respect...

"I'm Private Lidmann - part of the new Task Force they're establishing for us. I'd be keen to talk a moment, if you'd welcome that?" She glanced away briefly, smile becoming a touch guilty and excitable. "Never been in the presence of royalty before, but I guess I'll need to get used to it...

Inside the barracks, Fuyuko was having a quiet time with reading one of her books in the Japanese language with the title being The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, one of Japan's famous tales. She heard the Filipino being spoken and looked up from her book to find the other woman speaking to her about wanting to talk.

"I do not mind, Private Liddman. What topics do you wish to talk about?" The imperial princess replied in a composed manner, using the Filipino she was taught to use in diplomacy to communicate with the private officer.

Decent start...

"Well... I was hoping we might discuss weaponry and tactics." Callie affected a wide glance about the place. "Every soldier in this unit has different capabilities, and we'll work together best if we know what our fellows can do and how they tend to do them." Demonstrate shared values of practicality...

And now to catch her off guard. "But... Perhaps that can come later? I'm also curious about what you're reading, Your Highness!" Callie injected all her natural enthusiasm into her voice. "I'm not so familiar with Japanese culture and history - joining up here was the first time I've been away from home - and I'd be keen to learn... I'm sure you'd be a good teacher!" A personal anecdote to show vulnerability; engagement with something she finds interest in; play to her pride in her abilities, not her station...

Finally, put a sense of power back in her hands... With a minor start, Callie composed herself. "That is, if you would permit me, Your Imperial Highness, of course..." Withdraw a little ways, and...

She would give a slight nod to the private's comment over wanting to talk about military tactics and weaponry which was the standard topic when there was a conflict going on between China and the Philippines. "I can talk it with you a little later, yes. It's always something I've been interested with ever since I've joined the Japanese Special Defense Forces."

Yet, the other question about the book she was reading did catch her off guard a bit. "The book I am reading is the Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. It's one of Japan's oldest folktales where the moon is originated from." As the private spoke more on wanting to learn more about Japanese history and culture, Fuyuko replies with a small smile. "It's permitted, I'll be more than happy to teach you about my country's culture and history, given that it's one of the oldest countries in the world with a very storied history."

Callie beamed.

Hook, distance-closing portal and sinker.

Don’t push it now. Building positive feeling here will allow you to influence her later.

Not to mention that part of her leapt at the smile she had coaxed from the Japanese princess. Posing as a friend would be useful, of course… But that needn’t preclude her from being such a friend.

She sat down, cross-legged, on the floor, placing her hands in her lap. “It would be an honour, Your Highness,” she answered simply.

Going through some topics in her head, there was some aspects of the Japanese culture that she could teach a bit to the other foreigner. "Usually, the foreign tourists who travel to my country are so interested in our animation. There might be a few who travel there for the food and attractions, but our animation is the most attractive." She replied with a little nod.

Callie blinked. Her mind flashed to moments of downtime back as an AMC - scenes of flashy, animated battles streamed into their rec room, cheered on by teenagers with not dissimilar powers to those on the screen...

She tried to stifle a laugh. Her countenance rebelled against her.

"Sorry - sorry, Your Highness, I... Hahaha!" Callie grinned. "Apologies - yes, I would agree, and that is one element I am familiar with. I had a few friends who were invested and would sometimes drag me along with them."

The corner of her brain still thinking rationally chose this moment to reassert some measure of control. "You mentioned food..." A personal but also safe, non-confrontational topic. She smiled politely. "That I'm not so familiar with. Do you have any particular favourite dishes, Your Highness?"

"I see. I'm sorry if this was an odd question, but I did think of the many tourists that come here for our animation." Fuyuko responds with another small smile. A mention of favorite dishes made the Japanese princess think on a bit as her response to the private's question came with a nod. "My personal cooks made me tuna sandwiches and some miso soup, sometimes they would give me a plate of sushi, but I really love the tuna sandwiches they do make. It's not the most expensive meal one might expect, but we've been given organic food for our daily meals."

"Even so, I can't imagine our rations compare well..." Hmm. Taste for the simple things. Fits. Callie inclined her head. "It's nice to know that you're not so different, though, Your Highness - takes me back to my aunt's sandwiches at school... Mmm."

Caroline crushed the memories as they arose, cursing herself internally for following the idea. To be fair, her packed lunches were a nice spot in the day, even if she gave half of them up as bribes to the couple of people she'd have as 'friends' while she was still at that school.

Forcing calm, she seized on a different passing thought that would give her some breathing room. "You know," she said, trying to keep the hurriedness from her voice, "I could see if I could find some tuna. Lingayen surely has to have a fish market somewhere, and I'll bet people would be more than happy to sell any stock they've got left. I can only hope it would be up to your usual standards, Your Highness -" that's right, cover with a little joke - "given it's been a couple of days, but it'd surely be better than what we're eating now." She grinned. "How about it - a taste of home for both of us and then we can settle down to chat properly?"

"Your aunt made you sandwiches? That's so nice of her to do that." The royal responds and imagined if her family members would have the skill to cook homemade food like it without the help of the palace servants. They wouldn't know much about cooking, but she'd really like to learn how to make her own food without the servants' help.

As the private would give a good opportunity to find some tuna in Lingayen's fish market and a taste of home for both of us and a time to settle down to chat properly, Fuyuko responds to the woman with a small bow of her head. "I have not been to the fish market before, but yes, it does sound like a good time to search for tuna and make some sandwiches based on the easy recipe."

Chai Zan always stood on edge. His administrative duties in China's propagation of the ASEAN War led him to regular interaction with Noble Arms Masters. Even still, the Chinese government hadn't supported him with the authority necessary to command respect from those he approached. And so Zan developed a mild paranoia, a mental alarm that signaled whenever a threat was nearby.

On this particular day, Chai Zan passed gently towards his modest personal office, his briefcase in tow. As he entered one end of a main hallway, Zan froze in place, paralyzed by the blare ringing throughout his skull. A Party official if rubbed the wrong way might demand Chai's death, which would be scheduled in a couple days. At least then Chai would have the opportunity to plead for his life, flee the country, or all else failing say his goodbyes to his family. The man who stormed out the other end of the hallway was far worse: Noble Arms Master Ren Zhao. It was cause enough for alarm that this particular Noble Arms Master could end his life with a thought, for his own personal enjoyment. Beyond that, though, Master Ren seemed quite furious today.

Zan scanned for safe, inconspicuous exits and found none. If he could slip by, perhaps Master Ren would be too preoccupied to notice. He forced himself forward. For the first few moments, it appeared that Chai's plan was going to work. Then, at a couple meters' pace, Ren Zhao's gaze jolted to meet Zan's nervous stare. "You! Do you know who I am?"

Chai swallowed. "Y-yes, sir. You are Ren Zhao, Noble Arms Master."

Ren held his chin up and gazed down upon Chai. The foreboding glare was unnecessary but nonetheless effective. "And do you not think I am powerful, and wise?"

"Very powerful and wise, sir."

"Pah!" Ren announced. "If a commoner like you can see this, why can't the highest echelons of the Party?" he shook his head. "Tell me, why did Lingayen fail?"

Paltry supply, abysmal coordination, inadequate counters to defensive forces, and a broad overestimation of the enemy. Obviously. Still, his superiors would never know Chai's assessment. In this environment, honesty meant execution. "I don't know, sir. What is the reason?"

"Lack of sound leadership, poor decision making!" Zan knew the accusatory finger pointed squarely at him was meant for those with higher rank. "They can't see talent; they never could. Mark my words, when they face the fire of combat, China will come to regret the leadership they've chosen in the Zodiac."

Those were treasonous words. Dangerous words, indeed. Still more precarious would be to call Master Ren out on his impetuousness. And so, Ren neither agreed nor disagreed. He bowed a quiet "good morning" and briskly walked off to his office. He heard the master scoff and stomp off to more important matters. Zan had successfully survived an encounter with a Noble Arms Master.

He opened his door, stared at his desk, and promptly dropped his briefcase, jaw agape. His job, his duty, was to assess morale in the army, and to process complaints of various crimes against the state, specifically in the province of Fujian. These complaints came in the form of singular pages, summarizing the issue and providing contact information to discuss the matter directly. If Chai's authority allowed, he was to deal with the situation quietly. He was one of many, in fact, and the even distribution of duties culminated in two or three papers in his tray on any given morning.

The stack today was an inch thick.

"Insubordination!" exclaimed one. "I found misplaced rations on a ship bound for the South China Sea. I demanded that the nearby soldiers seize these supplies at once, and they refused me! I approached the Noble Arms Master on lease and ordered her to discipline the troops, and she gave me an unspeakable gesture. I demand retribution!"

"Desertion!" cried another. "A squadron of soldiers have abandoned their posts, taking their arms and ammunition with them! Two dozen Type 63s are no longer in our control! My colleague in Zhanjiang reports a similar desertion. Take care of this!"

"I posted daily orders on the wall outside my office. Some radical painted 'hao hao hao' over the papers! I am currently addressing the issue, but I need surveillance to catch the miscreant!"

"The soldiers of neighboring garrisons are using official naval communications to spread harmful anti-Chinese propaganda! It's greatly damaging morale!"

The complaints flowed together into a sludge of depressing news, gumming up Zan's mental faculties as to which one he ought to manage first, and how. He put his hands to his face to provide himself time to think in the dark.

Something clicked in his head, and he looked up. Supplies. Men. Ammunition. All in and around the South China Sea. Jammed comms in the area? That couldn't be just a coincidence. Zan parsed through more complaints, looking for a through line. He spent an hour fabricating his theory from the dozens of papers now strewn across his desk. He didn't have the specifics, but he had very, very clear evidence of potential revolt in the ranks. There must have been at least two Noble Arms Masters involved, maybe three, maybe more! Chai had never handled a threat of this magnitude before.

He picked up a phone and dialed a number. It was the highest authority he could contact. Surely his superior wouldn't turn down this valuable information; he would take care of the situation. Right? There must be something. Chai Zan stood up with anticipation, shaking his head, pacing back and forth as the wire on the telephone would allow. He couldn't afford this much anxiety.

"Yes?" demanded the operator.

"Urgent message; take me to the Senior Field Officer. I think there's a splinter group within the People's Liberation Army that's trying to-"

"First Lieutenant Chai?" That voice was not the operator. That voice was not the Senior Field Officer. It was... a calculating voice.

"W-who is this?" Chai stammered.

"Your conspiracy." The phone clicked off.

Chai Zan dropped his phone, speechless. Zan knew just what a Noble Arms Master could do to an ordinary man like himself. Whatever happened, he would be silenced. His report would reach no one. The rebellion will happen, and all China would find out that he knew. He would have had to have known, wouldn't he? And so the blame of this failure would be placed squarely on his shoulders. He would be executed, along with his family. Truly, there was no way to escape death. And so, Chai reached into his drawer and pulled out his service-issue pistol. He had never fired the weapon outside his training. He looked down the barrel, his hands shaking. He loaded it, then held it to his temple. These rebels will not have the pleasure of taking him, or of besmirching his honor. He took a deep breath, welling up what strength he had left, releasing it in one final great shout: "Gòngchǎndǎng wànsuì!"

Thus departed Major Chai Zan of the Central Investigation Department, perhaps one of the last faithful public servants the People's Republic of China would ever know.

Ayahime was staring at the Sison Auditorium building, which was converted by the Philippines Military into a Military Barracks. She was still deep in thought, but sooner rather than later, which was inevitable would have to meet with one of the Philippines' Military commanders. The War Correspondent training had mentioned who should be running the Lingayen Contingent portion of the Philippines Military Operations. She sighed and meeting the person in charge would be pertinent.

Ayahime doesn't know where said person would be since the only thing given was their rank, Second Lieutenant of the Philippines Military. "Second Lieutenant, sometimes, people could be more helpful in providing directions. I am supposed to be a War Correspondent from the United States, but I don't know who it is." Ayahime said. She always wondered why the War Correspondents previously didn't give exacting instructions or ideas on who Ayahime was looking for as the Second Lieutenant. Ayahime shrugged and sighed at it, but the other War Correspondents from America underestimated the Second Lieutenant for a significant reason, probably his age. 'I suppose everyone has different ideas about judging books by their covers,' Ayahime thought to herself.

Ayahime would be escorted to Noel's office, but not before the troops serving as her escorts would mutter about how Noel was overworking himself since his promotion to First Lieutenant; nevertheless, the young man, just arrived from his date with Regil (well, 'date') would rise up from his chair to greet Ayahime, saying in near-perfect English, "War Correspondent... Ayahime, right? What do you need?"

Ayahime was grateful that the escorts stayed out of her personal space but heard that the Second Lieutenant was a First Lieutenant. She felt her War Correspondent training was somewhat dated since much can happen in a war. As she entered Noel's Office, he would rise from his chair and speak in near-perfect English. Ayahime smiled kindly towards the First Lieutenant. "Yes, I am Ayahime Rain Walters. I need to have my duties as a War Correspondent: take pictures of the battlefield and keep the truth going instead of altering it in a propaganda aspect to lie and save face." Ayahime said, with strong convictions against lying. She smiled and looked at Noel. "Congrats on your promotion to First Lieutenant, Noel," Ayahime added.

Noel smiled and said, "Be careful. Being too open with your goals can get you some dirty looks; it wasn't too long ago the former President got elected through social media manipulations and smearing dirt on 'normal' journalists like you. But thank you for your congratulations. Now, I presume you came in here for more than just introductions?"

Ayahime sighed at Noel's words, specifically about the smear campaign against journalists, but her work in the states helped rid corruption. She couldn't stop counting how many times politicians had smeared her by being a freelance journalist that hunted the truth. "Some politicians in my country are still trying to silence the truth in the United States. No problem, Noel. Yes, you would be correct on that presumption. Could I ask some basic interview questions? I don't want to pry too much on your private life, but it'll be better to get to know the Lingayen Muniplicaty First Lieutenant. How did the battle go against the Chinese before I got here? How many are Noble Arm Masters in your army group, volunteer or otherwise? The last question, what's your full name, Noel?" Ayahime asked the basic interview questions primarily given to her by the training she received. She didn't have her camcorder with her since taking a live feed interview might be impolite.

"Noel Luna Alonso," Noel said, "As for the battle... We won at great cost; killed one of their A-Ranks and defeated another. As for Arms Masters, we have more than ten, but some may have left since then."

Ayahime heard the answer to her basic interview questions, starting with Noel's name, next was the battle, and finally, the Arms Masters. She smiled gratefully at the questions answered. "Thank you for answering the questions, Noel. A victory to give those Chinese a bloody nose is better than not fighting. Hmm, that's an understandable number." Ayahime said smiling. She was grateful those basic questions were easy to ask and get answers to from Noel Luna Alonso. "Do you have any questions for me? I can answer them to the best of my abilities since you've responded to my questions." Ayahime added.

Noel nodded and said, "Are you an unregistered Arms Master? You're probably not one, but fair warning; it's a slap in the face to have Arms Masters close by but not actually fighting..."

Ayahime froze when Noal asked the question about being an unregistered Arms Master. Her facial features went slightly white, and she was honestly not smiling as her mood changed. She always got smeared by that singular fact about being a coward by those politicians that were corrupt specifically. "I'm sorry, Noel, but I am one. I don't want to use my Noble Arms because it frightens me." Ayahime said truthfully but reluctant about her noble arms. She was an unregistered noble arms user because Ayahime chose to be a Freelance Reporter over training to use Xorxin's Wrath. "How did you know I was an Unregistered Arms Master? Was it my last name that gave it away or something?" Ayahime asked. The Walters Family is one of those highly decorated military families in the United States that have Arm Masters in it.

Noel face-palmed and said, "I ask every reporter this at random, hoping to spook them. I did not expect you to actually be one."

He frowned and said, "You do realize that it is the mark of a bad reporter to reveal the truth so easily? How can you get information if you just keep on being too open about what you want to potentially hostile folk?"

Taking a bottle of Coca-Cola, opening it, then pouring its contents into his mouth, the sixteen-year old was inwardly thinking, Worst. Reporter. Ever.

Ayahime watched Noel face-palm at her for telling the truth, and she nervously sighed. She went white a bit because the previous war correspondents mentioned a test from Noel. It caused her to become incredibly nervous, even more so than usual. "What will happen to me for telling you the truth about what I am?" Ayahime asked, deeply regretful for telling it like it was. She deeply sighed for even mentioning it, but Ayahime didn't work for News Corporations and only worked for herself.

Ayahime looked at Noel as he frowned at her and asked her two specific questions about a mark of being a bad reporter and being too open to potentially hostile folk. She moved slightly in her chair and nervously looked toward Noel. "You are right. I am a mark of being a bad reporter because of being too open about my circumstances. However, in the United States, most people know of my circumstances, including those politicians that smear me," Ayahime said. She does her work of seeking the truth while being smeared by politicians calling her a coward and everything.

Ayahime looked around Noel's office and noticed he got coca cola to drink, but she looked up to the ceiling. ' I failed by a military commander. I know my flaws, but my Noble Arm makes it hard to get close to people.' Ayahime thought with a frown on her face.

Before Ayahime could receive the relief of a response detailing the dire consequences of their actions, a new arrival made herself known.

It started with a knock and, after receiving a 'come on in' from the voice of a 16-year-old child, the door opened.

She was feeling fidgety, and fidgety usually meant you're going to fuck up and make a critical mistake and everybody is going to hate you now , so she only opened the door slowly at first- but then she began to worry that might be imporper, so she opened it the rest of the way.

Too jerky. Calm down, Kaitlyn.

"U-um, First Lieutenant Noel Alonso, have you seen Nil- Uh..."

She blinked, trailing off as she quickly identified another party in the room. Non-hostile, obviously. Civilian clothing.

"E-excuse me..."

Noel sighed and said, "Private Pierce, I haven't seen Nil since earlier today. That said, I need your help for something - This is Ayahime Walters, freelance journalist and unregistered Arms Master. I'm going to cover for her, but I will ask you to teach her how to act like a normal person so that she can learn how to lie and actually do her job. Is that okay?"

He then followed up with another attempt at spooking people, saying to Kaitlyn with a slight frown, "You are a normal person, right?"

She frowned at this, a little offended.

"I like to think of myself as one, sir. If a little... Anxious."

Noel chuckled, "Sorry about that. I shouldn't have tried to spook or prank you. That said, you can help Ayahime, right?"

Um...

"Y-yes sir..."

This said, she turns her attention to 'Ayahime' proper. For some reason, her name sounds like it came right out of an anime.

Which it probably did. Or anime has used it. Kinda sounds like Orihime.

For a cartoon about violence, she kinda misses Bleach...

The soldier slightly spooked Ayahime to walk in by slowly opening the door, and then a conversation between the private and Noel happened. Ayahime sighed somewhat as the conversation went a bit fast, but it would be a good idea to learn how to lie so she could be a War Correspondent for the Philippines Front of the war. She was grateful that the Private was an American, but Ayahime smiled at Private Price. "Hopefully, you will help me act more normal than what I have done throughout my life as a Freelance Reporter in the States, Private Price," Ayahime said kindly and respectfully. She was always told by her mother to be respectable to others.

Ayahime sighed slightly and looked toward Noel. "You are very kind, First Lieutenant Noel Luna Alonso. I feel like this kindness is only for a single time. If I fuck up again, you won't be as kind next time." Ayahime said. She felt that covering for her only once was the proper thing that Noel could do, and it would be her responsibility to ensure that it didn't happen again. It didn't take long for her to look back at the Private. "Alright, I am in your care, Private Price," Ayahime said.

"So," said the First Lieutenant, "Anything more need to be discussed?"

Kaitlyn wasn't sure if she was the one being addressed, but just incase, she responded anyway.

"N-no sir."

Ayahime looked at First Lieutenant Noel for a moment and sighed. She felt like they were both being addressed by the Lieutenant. "No, First Lieutenant Noel," Ayahime said. She slowly got up from her seat in front of Noel's Desk. However, as she stood up, Ayahime gave the eastern bow since her mother taught her to bow to show others respect by using her Japanese Heritage over her father's. Ayahime smiled slightly toward First Lieutenant Noel and decidedly walked to give herself enough personal space by exiting his office, specifically not to cross too closely to Private Price. She was outside Noel's office and waited for Private Price to escort her somewhere else in the barracks.

Kaitlyn watched the girl leave, a worried frown on her face.

She thumbed the needle in her air, and wasn't entirely certain if she should bring that up or not.

"T-thank you, sir."

Quickly excusing herself before she said or did something that would make him doubt her "normalness" even more, she followed Ayahime out into the hall.

So, a journalist.

Looking her over, the first thing she noticed were the earrings.

Western faith. So a fellow American. That'll make this easier.

I wonder if she enjoys anime...?

Raven hair...

God damn, look at those eyes!

She had never met a human being alive with purple eyes. She knew- from obscure and random Internet searches- that purple was possible, but exceedingly rare.

... She should probably stop staring.

"Um... So... You can't lie?"

Despite herself, her eyes continued to trace a line down the lady's body, only barely registering the cobweb t-shirt.

... No way was she blushing.

Ayahime waited a bit as she was outside of Noel's office, wondering where Private Price was. It didn't take too long until Private Price walked out of the Lieutenant's office. She slightly blinked as Ayahime felt she was being looked at by Private Price. It made her a bit nervous as Ayahime looked at Private Price specifically. Ayahime didn't say anything as Private Price stared at her but looked slightly embarrassed when Private Price asked her a question. "Why are you staring at me? Also, yes, it's hard for me to lie." Ayahime said, asking Private Price a question while also answering hers.

Ayahime noticed that Private Price was blushing, and it caused her to blush slightly. She tries to keep out of the spotlight, but Ayahime is incredibly beautiful, and it's hard to keep people from getting hurt. "Um... Private Price, what's your name? And also, why are you blushing precisely?" Ayahime asked. She felt she knew why Private Price was blushing but wanted to ensure nothing was wrong.

"No reason," she said with far more confidence than she felt.

Lying lesson number one: just pretend what you're saying is actually the truth. Which it is.

There is absolutely no reason I'm blushing right now.

For some reason, Miss Lei came to mind too.

"... The name's Kaitlyn Price. I'm from Ohio. You?"

After a moment, the shock that was... Absolutely nothing at all... Began to wear down, and she thought about the situation more critically.

The First Lieutenant wants her to teach this girl how to lie, and thus fulfil her duties as a reporter. How does someone get a job like that when they can't lie?

Ayahime looked at Private Price momentarily and sighed when she said the two words. "Hm, okay," Ayahime said, believing Private Price. She noticed that the Private was becoming less nervous and more confident. It seemed as if Private Price was thinking about something but didn't pry into it anymore. Private Price answered her question by giving her name as Kaitlyn Price, and she is from Ohio. "I was born in Oklahoma. Also, I wish some things were different in my life, but only being twenty-one is tough on me somewhat." Ayahime said with a slight tone of depression toward the lack of anything good in her life. She has only been able to inform others of certain things about how corrupt they are because they have a long paper trail of how dishonest they are.

Kaitlyn nodded.

"Yeah, I feel you. So are you new to journalism or... ?"

She gestured towards the girl, struggling to find the words.

"I mean, it's kind of your job to weed information out of people using whatever means neccesary, right? You can't do that if you're constantly showing them all your cards."

Ayahime saw Kaitlyn nod and then asked her a question. She isn't new to journalism, but Ayahime is new to lying through her teeth with a silvered tongue as a Journalist has. "I am not new to journalism. I ousted some corrupt politicians with my credentials as a freelance journalist." Ayahime said with a confused look on her face. Her confusion was only because of the context of the question, in specificness. She noticed that Kaitlyn gestured towards her, and Ayahime listened to what Kaitlyn had to say next, and she gasped slightly. "Err, yeah, I never thought of it that way. I suppose I was working on showing my beliefs too much while I was ousting corrupt politicians. Oh god, that's why many politicians sent people after me. After the cops sent them to jail, with my Freelance Journalism." Ayahime said with a look of dread on her face. She went pale because of the realization that her beliefs kept almost getting her killed, but if it weren't for her being an Arms Master, Ayahime would have died.

Sporting a thin, passive grin, Mei Yuanyuan gazed out her window at hurried soldiers jogging through the concrete square beneath her. From so many stories up, they appeared so miniscule. These ants had an energy to them, a spring in their step. The propaganda had worked too well, it seemed. She entertained the thought of breaking the glass, reaching out her fingers, and flattening the insects underneath her palm. The concept amused her.

Notably, one soldier carried a large crate of ammunition. He bumped into his senior officer, and the cartridges inside scattered on the ground like sand particles. She heard the shouts of the man's superior through the windowpane. The culminating slap put a little tooth in her smile. She could watch these minions for days, and likely would have were she not in the presence of...
Cao Bao spit out his drink, the clear liquid splattering on the floor. He sniffed his glass. "Putrid stuff."

Mei glanced back, peering at him with the corner of her eye. She shared a rather casual enclosure with him, complete with sofas, a sink station, and a low wooden coffee table. "What, did you think they'd save the world's finest for the waiting room of a squalid, overcrowded naval base?"

"Fair point." Bao commented. He dumped the remnant in a local sink and casually rinsed it. He closed his eyes momentarily and tried to focus. He held out his hands, and a tinted bottle materialized, its bottom in his left and its neck in his right. He popped open the cork and refilled his cup. "Want some?"

"Well, what is it?"

Bao held up the bottle. A couple handwritten characters comprised the entire label. "Rice wine."

"So that's your power? Fabrication?"

"No, it's to claim from the farmer who made it." Bao fetched another cup and inspected it for cleanliness.

"Can you return it to its proper place?"

Bao set the glass on a table beside Yuanyuan, and his bottle closer to himself. "It's sixteen hours' drive to Anhui Province."
Then the stolen goods weren't returnable. The theft couldn't be helped, Mei surmised. "Very well; pour me a glass."

Master Cao stretched out his hands, and a second bottle blipped into existence. He popped its cork and poured Yuanyuan her beverage.

"Sharing was acceptable," Yuanyuan commented.

Bao grabbed the first bottle by the neck, holding his free hand over his heart. "This is my bottle. You get your own."

"That's some farmer's belongings!" Yuanyuan exclaimed.

"He was zīchǎn jiējí de, anyways," Bao defended. "Who else pays for this quality of rice wine?" He took a sip from his glass. "Honestly, he probably drunk it already. Boy, that's good, that is."

"What do you mean, 'drunk it already'?"

Bao shook his head. "Enjoy the wine. Forget I said anything."

Mei's attention was once again drawn away to the frenzy of logistics. "So, they just sent me cash and assigned me to station here. They weren't fully transparent about the details. Who exactly are we fighting?"

"Arms Masters," Bao stated. Whether he didn't know either or simply refused to elaborate was up to speculation.

A knock came from the door to the room. Mei arose to answer it. A bespectacled man stood in the doorway and gave a curt bow. "This is the waiting room, correct?"

"Yes..." Mei responded hesitantly. "And who are you?"

"Excellent!" the man announced. "I hoped to indulge myself in certain relaxations in the time between fronts." He found himself a sofa and kicked up onto it.

Mei closed the door but remained at the doorway. The man was confident enough to possess answers, whether or not those answers were accurate. "Do you know where we're going, what we're doing?"

"Certainly!" the stranger answered. "From what I've heard, there's an individual who's established shop in the South China Sea and claims to be heir to the most recent imperial dynasty."

"They can handle the entire world thrown against them," Bao elaborated, "but they can't stand a challenge to their power from within."

"And they don't want to drum up support among any disgruntled ranks?" Mei queried.

"Precisely; that's why talk of this has been limited to the uppermost echelons of command," the man affirmed. "Everyone is ordered to prepare for something, but they organize in the dark." He inspected the writing on one of Bao's bottles. "Rice wine! May I?"

"So what preparations do we need to make?" asked Mei.

Bao turned around to face her. "Does your Noble Arm require ammunition?"

"Not particularly."

"Or recharge?"

"I don't think so."

"You're fine," Bao callously assured, returning to his normal posture.

Mei returned to the window while the man with glasses served himself. Her fingers touched the pane while she watched perhaps a tad more closely. Crates of guns were offloaded, but in half a dozen different models and makes. The soldiers practicing drills in the square kept their heads down towards the pavement as they stepped in rhythm. The boats that were currently being loaded... the sloop she bore as her Noble Arm was twice as capable as each of them.

She realized that these weren't soldiers. This was fodder, meant as a mere distraction while the loyal and treasonous Masters duked it out amongst each other. Thousands were going to die for a small scrap of sand in the South China Sea, even to an unsure outcome.

Yuanyuan stretched. Oh well. Ants die; that's the nature of ants. She wasn't paid to fret over such trivialities. She routed to fetch a third glass, then filled her new cup with her old bottle. "Gentlemen, this gathering deserves a toast. To our success in... What's our target?"

"They call it 'Mischief Reef,' so I recall," the mysterious man replied.

"Then, to victory in Mischief Reef!"

In one corner of the Sison Auditorium, adjacent to the makeshift medical bay, an area had been partitioned off, within which a familiar bubbling ooze ebbed in a small pool. In the center of that, Qingshe continued as she had for the majority of the past few days. As far as she was aware, bar none, she was the most powerful healing-capable Arms Master in the city right now, and she was planning on holding onto that reputation. A triage had been set up, and into it flowed a seemingly endless number of patients at nearly all hours. The line stretched far out of the base, as soldiers and civilians alike availed themselves of her service.

The Snake didn't really find herself inconvenienced by petty needs like "sleep" these days and so had continued her task diligently long into each night and right into the following mornings. A round the clock rotation of Philippine soldiers kept watch over the proceedings, maintaining order and ensuring no-one desperate or impatient stepped out of line... or in the thankfully fewer cases, took up a fairly racist response the moment Qingshe's Chinese descent became apparent. Not that Qingshe was inclined to take offense if they wanted to avoid being benefitted by her treatment. She wasn't paid enough to care about those that bit the hand that fed them. Though, to be sure, she didn't delude herself into thinking these soldiers weren't also there to ensure she didn't pull any "funny business". Not that they could stop her if she did, but she respected the thought behind it and wasn't inclined to justify that remaining note of wariness, even in spite of what she'd done for them so far.

The devastation of Lingayen was... something disheartening and impressive to behold in equal measure, she idly mused, as with she slowly dipped the lower body of another poor soul into her shadow. Ah, perhaps "misfortunate" was a better way to word it?

Either way, the squirming soldier was missing his legs from the knee-down, courtesy of Tian Fei's molten flow. He was just one of the unlucky few close enough to get "clipped" by the calamity before someone else could pull him out, and the experience had left him with two cauterized, blackened stumps of useless meat. In another sense, he was pretty lucky too. He'd been evacuated alive where many of his comrades had not, and he was here now, with her, one of the few equipped to rectify this injustice.

Just as she had for so many before.

Her patient had already stopped squirming in unease and lingering aching pain, as she cut off all sensation below the waist, the soldier looking somewhat bug-eyed while she worked. DNA was a fascinating thing really. Even a single molecule of it was enough to have the literal blueprint of its origin within the palm of your hand. DNA was functionally a USB-drive that was simply so insanely compressed, it was difficult to read. For all too long humanity had lacked so severely methods of reading that drive. Even today, they ultimately lacked in the grand majority, even with her own contributions to advancing the cause of science... But even so, in those cases that success was achieved? Wonders and horrors were abundant; she knew so most viscerally.

She started with a spot of amputation. Ruined flesh was scoured away unseen and unfelt beneath the buzzing ooze, as she peeled away the impeding scar tissue and exposed raw muscle and melted bone. The ruined flesh was examined, judged and disconnected, boiling off to be subsumed.

For her, DNA was an open book. Once you got down to it, once you converted strips of DNA structures into raw data... it was as easy to decipher as reading text off a screen. But even for her, making use of that level of hyper-compressed data "file" wasn't trivial. Every living creature was ultimately different. Each had their little quirks, their imperfections and occasional lotteries. Just because she "understood" a single human didn't mean she fundamentally "understood" them all, even in spite of having deciphered the "ideal" blueprint of humanity. When it came to manipulating flesh, for all that she had something of a cheat code, it wasn't as trivial as a whim to do so. To do so carelessly was to invite disaster, for the human body could be a truly finicky thing, willing to go to war with itself over utter rubbish.

She already had his "blueprint". She'd had it hours ago, a drop of blood donated to her to begin analysis hours prior, just like each patient she could afford to. Given her multitasking capacity, it saved a radical bulk of time, allowing her to perform the analysis for future patients long before she needed to see to their wounds in person. Of course, the most critical cases, she would take immediately, but where she could, she preferred to pace things.

So it was that now, having already reached a point of the analysis where she could outright clone a new meat-suit of this soldier, she was able to begin simply generating replacement parts for him now to be integrated, like servicing any form of hardware one might be inclined to name.

That was why things like allergies existed. That was why cancer existed. That was why the body would reject perfectly good organ transplants and blood transfusions, just because a single line of "code" was out of alignment. That was why human DNA was so petulant that -moral or religious considerations aside- if one had no choice but to propagate the species with too close a relative, they invited disaster. Frankly, she posited, that was why humanity was growing so increasingly prone to genetic disorders, because when you really thought about it, on a grand scale, over millions of years, humanity was still inbreeding as a whole in some form. The species was naturally degrading in endurance, strength and lifespan. Noble Arms had thrown a wrench in the works, but... they were far from natural and didn't address the root issue: humans didn't live as long. Not because they killed each-other, but simply because they were built to fail. Humanity was flawed as a species, not culturally or spiritually, but on a fundamental biological level, and all too few seemed to realize that.

She took note of several scorched pits that had made it into the pubis bone and swiftly decided that the patient's entire mobility structure was in need of overhaul. Her amiable expression remained unchanged, as she silently peeled away the entire pelvic structure and began replacing everything involved and below. Bones with refurbished red bone marrow sprouted from the abyss and linked into ligaments, before being swiftly sheathed in muscle and nerves. The man's rather crippled reproductive organs were refurbished, as a film of skin layers was soon laid down. And then, because she was feeling nice, she rebuilt the tattered remains of his pants into a replica of the military grade garb she'd already scanned on many a fellow.

Her smile widened a touch, a hint of smug satisfaction warming her heart, as she began to reconnect the man's nerves and raise him from the ooze. The soldier gasped and twitched, as feeling was restored to a body wiped clean of agony. Qingshe knew that though he'd not be able to tangibly perceive it yet, his lower body was a refined thing of borderline perfection, honed to a wire's edge and more resilient to losing that edge in the long run. If all went well for him down the line, she expected this soldier would age into the sort of old man that could still in his 90's kick the ass of someone the age he was right now... as long as he used his legs. She knew it was a petty little enjoyment, but she would never get tired of sneaking little "improvements" into wherever she was allowed to operate on her patients. Acknowledgement was far from necessary. She would be gratified knowing that for every person she healed, that was just another small contribution to the refurbishment of humanity's tattered genetics.

"Feeling better, Private~?" she grinned and waved off his thanks, ushered him towards his comrades, who swept in to help haul the man to his new feet and get him over to another mundane medic for an additional health inspection. Turning towards the next in line, this one a civilian with an arm in a sling, she grinned in as nonthreatening a manner as she could resist and curled her fingers beckoningly, chuckling at their widening eyes. "Next~!"

With a hesitance that seemed to be growing more sparse the longer her healing vigil persisted, her next patient approached, and Qingshe could honestly say she looked forward to stoking that little spark of hope within them as she had so many before.

And in her head, another chip landed upon a scale currently towering above its mirror, a tremulous thing practically glued to the ground.

She idly wondered if her altruism would ever outweigh the necessities required to grow her into the person that could accomplish them.