October 17th, 1908, Western Warehouse District, Millersburg, Creta Occupied Area – Tanya POV
‘Just what the hell is Creta thinking?’
The rest of previous day – just like the entire operation – went exactly as planned. There were some minor resistance from a few pockets of soldiers from the Cavalry Brigade, but otherwise, the 1st Platoon of the 203rd Battalion had acted flawlessly in dispatching their tasks without issue. Dozens of warehouses had been destroyed and they had returned back to their small outpost outside the city with more explosives and ammunition than they had come in with.
As they headed back into the city the following morning, Tanya was disturbed by what she found.
Their six armored cars made way through the narrow side streets of the city until they found themselves face-to-face with 30 soldiers, 10 of which were on horseback. The soldiers were “lucky” enough to fire first, but their shots harmlessly deflected off their cars or shields. They were then quickly dispatched. It was just the latest in a long string of “engagements” that could only be classified as one-sided slaughter. Tanya was shocked at the sheer incompetence of her opponent.
‘Teams of enemy soldiers just waltzed into their town and laid waste to hundreds of tons of supply. They should know by now that we cannot be taken out by small arms fire, and yet they are still spread out thin across the city! Even without using the Operation Orb, these tactics would be trivial to defeat! We are a heavily mechanized force. At best, they are whittling down our number with attrition that greatly favors our side. It is like they are begging us to destroy their brigade in detail. Do they not care about their soldiers’ lives at all?’
She was only too eager to grant their suicidal request. Again and again, the platoon would come across a small pocket of soldiers and again they would lay waste to them. By this point, Tanya had lost count at 600 killed. If her own life was not at stake, Tanya might have been disgusted by the one-sided slaughter she was participating in.
Nevertheless, she had a job to do and so the 21 soldiers pulled up to a small munitions depot and began what had become almost second-nature to them.
“It’s them!”
“Ahh!”
“Fall back! Retreat!”
Cries rang out at the sight of their convoy. The group of one-hundred-or-so civilians, military police, mounted infantry, and infantry from the 14th Cavalry Brigade fled. Despite the inferior numbers of her forces, it seemed that the common soldiers were wiser than their commanders and knew a lost cause when they saw it.
Not that it helped them. The platoon killed the guards with interlocking fields of fire from their machine guns, being careful to let workers flee and cause confusion to the surrounding area. A few of the infantry were able to successfully merge in with the crowd of civilians, but the mounted troops were easy pickings. Without that mobility, the infantry would not pose a concern for the rest of the operation.
Now with unfettered access to the warehouse, everyone formed a line between their cars and the inside of the warehouse. They passed along spare ammunition, fuel and explosives into their vehicles. Once their own stocks were replenished, they requisitioning 15 trucks from a nearby motor pool and loaded them with a deadly combination of explosives. Every truck was filled with over 1000kg of TNT, gunpowder or sticks of dynamite and their gas tanks filled to the brim. The trucks sagged under the weight and the drive train was pushed to its limit, but there was nothing to worry about. The trucks were not expected to last long.
The 2 or 3 former occupants of each armored car drove a truck behind their car in a column and made their way to the largest food or medical warehouses marked on their maps in decreasing priority. By now, the warehouses were abandoned and so they no longer needed to dispatch any guards.
‘Perhaps the town’s citizens thought that last night was a one-off event? Well, they know the truth now. Hopefully this means our job will only continue to get easier.’
Not wanting to waste any of their precious 2 hour window, they blew the lock off the cargo door and carefully drove a truck in the center of the supplies. The driver of the truck rushed out and another soldier loaded the long tube of a Cretan “Feuillette” rifle grenade into a rifle and leveled it onto the truck. With the former driver at a safe distance, the grenade was shot and detonated on the trucks cargo.
The whole area was treated to the massive bang and shockwave far larger than any of their previous jobs. Tanya realized that the supplies of this particular warehouse was largely storage of flour and wheat. The resulting thermobaric explosion was deafening and a fireball blasted the roof off the building, sending fire and twisted metal over 100 meters into the air.
“Tamaya!”
Tanya could not help but cry out with an instinct deep in her soul. At the Major’s Japanese exclamation, the others of the Platoon looked at her in confusion.
Her Adjutant tilted her head.
“Tama?”
Feeling a blush creeping down her face, the Major coughed awkwardly into her hand.
“Ahem, just an interjection… Anyway, as I had stated earlier, we owe the Cretan Military much for the success of our mission so far. It seems like there should be more than enough supplies in the city to completely destroy their remaining warehouses by tomorrow. Why don’t we-”
She was interrupted by a loud noise. She turned to see a small stone wall in the alleyway between two of the nearby buildings crumble as a Cretan B1 tank rolled out into view. The massive but slow moving vehicle ground down the packed earth road with its tracks, leaving deep grooves in its wake. It clearly had difficulty navigating through the narrow streets as it moved back and forth trying to make the 90 degree turn towards them. Before it began that turn, however, its turret was far faster in aiming in their direction. It still left her and her Platoon plenty of time to defend against its 47mm gun, not that they needed it. With the poor visibility out of its gun-sight and no all-round vision from a commander cupola, it missed them all entirely, detonating on a building down the street. Behind it, a few infantry used the tank as cover and fired at them with rifles.
She had mixed feelings and almost wanted to just let them realize the futility of this fight and run away like the others.
‘I can’t help but feel pity for the crew and soldiers of a country with incompetent leadership, but they would have no qualms killing me otherwise. If they haven’t learned to run away by now, well…’
Not wanting to waste time or precious silver ammunition, Tanya used a combination of Empower and Deflect to rush and leap up to the top of the tank and avoid the incoming rifle fire. Taking a Luger, she killed a tank crewman stupid enough to open the tank’s hatch for a better view of the battlefield or to operate the 7.5mm machine gun mounted on the cupola. With the hatch open, she took two Stielhandgranates from a bandolier, primed them, dropped them into the tank and into the waiting arms of a stunned tank commander. She closed the hatch and held it down to prevent having to waste any Deflection effort dealing with the fragmentation.
In the time it took to complete this, the rest of her Platoon had returned fire and were mopping up the remaining infantry. She noticed that her Adjutant was especially brutal, running into melee and eviscerating one soldier with a bayonet.
‘I hope she didn’t learn that little maneuver from me. Yesterday, I only brought myself into close-quarters combat with the enemy while they were behind cover and there were civilians nearby. Otherwise, using explosives is the logical conclusion. Diving into close combat – where Deflect does not work well – is a significant risk… but she seems to be enjoying herself…’
Tanya could not help but sigh as the one officer she thought was not a warmonger succumb to the illness.
‘Maybe considering her for the Adjutant role was a bit premature…’
She finally felt the thuds from the grenades in the tank below and could hear the popping of secondary explosions. Not wanting to risk getting caught draining her Deflect reserves, she performed an alchemically-assisted leap and landed harmlessly among her comrades. Noticing the slowly encroaching spread of flames from the warehouse, she did not want to risk smoke inhalation or worse, that their trucks filled with explosives would catch fire.
She turned to her Platoon.
“Anyway, as I was saying, I think there should be more than enough supplies to finish this job tomorrow. We might have been facing light resistance until now, but remember that the enemy still has over 8,000 soldiers remaining and they will be getting desperate. Don’t let your guards down for anything.”
“”Yes Major!””
---
October 17th, 1908, 14th Cavalry Brigade Headquarters, Millersburg Outskirts, Creta Occupied Area – Herschel POV
In a large farmhouse just outside the town of Millersburg, a Brigadier General and his Staff Officers were looking at a map with building frustration or panic. On the map, a number of pieces shaped like horseman or infantry were organized. Each piece detailed the 300 positions of every platoon or company detachment in the city. In real-time, a dozen nearby radio operators relayed updated status and positions to a Lieutenant who shuffled the pieces on the map.
The Brigadier General ground his teeth in rage and slammed a fist on his desk causing a few of the map pieces to topple over. An aide went and re-ordered them.
“What do you mean destroyed?! It’s just a couple well-armed soldiers. How the hell did we lose a tank to them now?!”
A nearby Major was quick to leap up in response.
“Sir, I can tell you that those troops were some of the best we had. The Rouge Rifles Battalion only chose the best for our tank crews. They must be better armed than expected-”
The General glared at the man.
“Better armed?! I do not want to hear another word. Nevermind the enemy, not even our own army has infantry weapons capable of piercing the armor of a B1. Damn it, the 8th Infantry will be arriving today, and I will not tolerate sending them into this situation until we have at least got some of the enemy behind bars! Here are the facts: they are highly mobile, they wield plenty of firepower, and they are immune to traditional encirclement doctrine. They are not held up by roadblocks, infantry in cover, or even tanks apparently. What exactly is so different about these “commandos”? I do not want to hear excuses, I want facts. How are they holding up to our aggression? What is there composition? I want answers people!”
While the situation seemed like a nightmare for the General and the prospects of the greater war in general, for Colonel Herschel, things could not have looked better. Any loss of face for the military was his gain. His command had been shelved for the duration of the conflict in favor of these “conventional” forces and now the military was feeling the consequences of that mistake.
‘The spineless Federation Council has seen fit to ignore every new breakthrough in Alchemy that does not fit into their preconceived notions of reality. Just more proof that they’re misguided fools. Moreover, their calls to avoid “escalation” in the Amestrian Conflict is asinine. The Amestrians already introduced new weapons: gas, shotguns, flamethrowers. How is my project any different? The Council even refuses to call this “Border Conflict” a war despite the front employing over half the standing army. Of course, those cretins are great at crafting flowery speeches to manipulate the ignorant masses, but when the time arrives to show strength and resolve on their committed path, they falter like the cowards they are. What does it matter that Amestris might mobilize? So what if the situation could get worse? If they cannot capitalize on every advantage, how is their vaunted Federation to prosper?’
Tightening a valve on his uniform, the chemical compound being fed into his mask dried up. Immediately, every nerve of the torn skin of his face seemed to melt with searing pain. A few decades ago, such a sensation was akin to hell, leaving him crippled. He left that failure behind long ago, burying it and its name behind him when he first received his mask. Now the pain helped him focus, bringing the minute and mundane information flowing into his senses pierce him with its clarity. He long stopped taking the prescribed opioids that dulled his mind and relished in the sensation of the here-and-now. He had a goal and he would go through any pain to achieve it.
His heart beat faster with anticipation. Whether Creta was willing or not, it would do exactly as he needed it to achieve his aims.
Stepping off the wall he stood at, he moved to the table. His large frame caused the nearby officers to quickly move out of his way.
‘None of them deserve their positions… but for once, their wretched personalities are exactly what I need.’
The Brigadier General looked up and failed to hide a small trace of fear from appearing on his face.
“C-Colonel Herschel. This is not the time for your games. That y-you are even in this room is only thanks only to your rank, but this is not your fight! Just leave.”
The Colonel towered over the General and looked down at the man in disdain. His mask did not perfectly hide his expression, but he no longer bothered temper them, letting his hatred come through with his eyes. He reveled in the fact that his face unnerved the inferiors and fools that festered in his wake.
His voice distorted as it reverberated out from the confines of his mask.
“General. You are facing a new Amestrian weapon. Your Brigade – nor the 8th – will be able to handle them. You will lose, your men will die, and this front will collapse. As the man in charge of protecting the vital resources of the offensive, your failure will be solely your responsibility.”
He had no proof of these claims; from the limited investigation he conducted personally, he could gain little in the way of confirmation. His conjectures were not unfounded though. The coincidence of the abilities of these “commandos” and the “devil” he had heard appearing on the front lines a few months earlier was too good to be true. For all of them to have identical abilities meant that they could not be State Alchemists; even apprentices would stray from their masters. That could only mean that Amestris has some method of producing alchemists with high combat potential.
He had been waiting for this moment: the moment when the conventional military would fail and alchemy would once again rule over the battlefield as it had for most of human history. That the enemy got there first was of no consequence. The time of “conventional” warfare was over.
His words caused the General to flush.
“Bastard! If you were under my command, I would have you dismissed just for the sheer lack of respect! Tell me what do you know!”
Herschel did not respond immediately, instead he activated his transmutation circle on his hand. With a spark, a small “horse” piece from the map flew into his hands as if magnetized. He waved it in front of the General before crushing the metal object into scrap.
“I have heard of an Amestrian soldier wade through artillery and machine guns and massacre 100 men single-handedly. Your brigade is but chaff before wheat; chaff waiting to be culled by a reaper. You do not have the power, but my command does. Give me the order not to interfere and I will leave this room and the town of Millersburg to its fate, but know that I will be in the front row at your court-martial.”
The General looked ready to punch him, and Herschel was hopeful the man would try. Regrettably – but not unexpectedly – the man lost his nerve and fell into a chair in a heap. Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked up at the Colonel.
“I- I will have your words in writing. You will end this assault on Millersburg at once, you hear me? If you or your pets do so much as harm a hair on a civilian’s head or fail to get rid of them, I will have you hang you hear?!”
The Colonel did not bother to respond. Instead he walked away in silence, paying no mind to an aide who ran into him and fell over. With a sweep of his hand, he opened the door and his cape billowed behind him.
‘I will catch you “Devil of the East”. I will know of your secrets and – with your support or your corpse – Creta will have to face an undeniable reality. That my way is the only way forward.’
---
October 18th, 1908, Eastern Warehouse District, Millersburg, Creta Occupied Area – Tanya POV
The six armored cars of the 203rd Battalion’s 1st Platoon drove quickly through the main streets of Millersburg. By now, the town had been largely evacuated and even firefighting teams had given up trying to put out the numerous fires raging throughout the city. Unlike the past two days, however, the city was completely silent. There were no birds, no voices of fleeing civilians, but also no soldiers, no tanks, no horses and no guns. The city was dead.
“I don’t know if I like this, Major.”
According to her training, Tanya should berate a soldier for spreading poor morale, but she held back. She had a few misgivings of her own and – for better or worse – she knew her Battalion would not be affected by something as trite as bad feelings.
‘I don’t know how, but my luck’s run out. Everything has been working too well and the enemy must have found some new strategy. I should have played it safe and fallen back to regroup with the rest of the Battalion. We could have then attacked the city a few days from now with full force. Instead, I got caught up in the other soldiers’ feelings of invincibility and wagered that pushing our element of surprise a 3rd day in a row was better.’
She got on the radio.
“Pixie, this is Pixie-Actual. The Creta military has changed tactics. It is not inconceivable that their losses yesterday has made them realize their folly and they pulled out, but a wish to preserve their forces does not change the fact that they cannot afford to just let us go free. The entire conflict is resting on their actions. Any ideas?”
She heard Lieutenant Serebryakova come on the radio to respond.
“Pixie-6 Actual to Pixie-Actual, are you thinking that they might have received some new orders from the Federation?”
Tanya shook her head, but realized that no one on the radio would see.
“No, or rather it must be more than that. I suspect that they may have uncovered one of our weaknesses. It’s too late to pull back now, but there are ways we can prepare. Pixie-4, 5, and 6 will continue with the plan as expected, but Pixie-1, 2, and 3 will set up a perimeter at every stop. The extra time needed will be worth it. Whatever they have planned, I will not allow this Platoon to be caught off-guard. Understood?”
All the teams sounded off.
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““Yes, Major.””
The cars quickly approached one of the three remaining munition’s warehouse that they had left untouched. All other munitions warehouses were destroyed using explosives on their way out yesterday. These remaining ones were all too small to in resupply the entire front for more than a few minutes, but the buildings contained just enough of what they would need to finish off their work in the city.
As Lieutenant Serebryakova and half of the Platoon got to work inside the warehouse loading supplies, Tanya made good on her orders and the remaining Operators spread out into the nearby buildings to get a full 360 degree view, ensuring that they were always at least three other people in view at all times.
Or that was the idea. Tragically, one of the soldiers in her line of sight went around a corner of an alleyway momentarily and let out a gut-wrenching scream. Tanya rushed in only to find a horrifying sight. Her soldier was bisected from head-to-toe by a large wolf-like creature. It was covered in thick grey and black fur and had quarter-meter-long talons. Blood and viscera from its victim covered it and the nearby walls in gore. It looked at her with a vicious, predatory gaze that made her instinctively shiver.
She did the first things she could think of and fell back to her training.
“Contact!”
With that yell, she immediately opened fire with her MG 15, but only a few shots landed as the wolf leaped out of the alleyway and onto the roof of one of the buildings. Rushing to think of the implications, she focused on her survival.
‘If I want to live though this, I must rely on my meat-shields!’
She ran out of the alleyway and activated her radio.
“Pixie! We’re under attack! Pull back to the warehouse! Formation Omega!”
Formation Omega was the equivalent to “hold nothing back” that she could think of. Each Operator found one or more partners to work with. One soldier held a strong Deflect and fired at anything they could see with their MG 15 while the other unleashed salvos of Destroy rifle-fire at everything left standing. It was a last-ditch effort that would burn-out the Platoon in minutes, but it was better than death.
As more chimeras came down from the rooftops, it became quickly apparent that even holding nothing back was not going to be good enough. Explosions shook the nearby buildings and bullets rained down on every surface, but the wolves were too fast. Every ‘Destroy’ shot from their rifles were not accurate enough and the few rounds from the machine guns that impacted the flesh of their opponents appeared to do nothing. In moments, two more Operators were stabbed with the razor-sharp talons of the wolves and torn apart.
‘Damn it! Of all the things to encounter on our first mission…!’
Things had not been going their way, but Tanya was realizing a pattern emerging. Their bullets were ineffective, but the explosions were doing something. The missed shots from Destroy that landed nearby had caused a few of the Chimeras to noticeably slow down.
“They are susceptible to explosions! Get them in the effect of Destroy!”
With that one order, the battle finally began to turn their way. One, then two, then four; the Chimera casualties began to match their own. However, the enemy quickly adapted. No longer content to keep their distance and pick off stragglers like wolves, they now moved in for the kill. With their more direct charge, they were picked off more quickly, but a few still got passed their hailstorm of brass and silver.
Realizing that the line – and her support – would collapse if she did not do something. She grabbed one of the wolves by the neck and slammed it into the ground with Empower. The overwhelming strength tore at her ligaments and she felt pain shoot up her arms. Pushing past the pain for her own survival. She turned just in time to grab another wolf charging her. Her hands and the monster’s interlocked, but she could feel her arms straining to stop its talons from piercing into her.
She turned to her soldiers behind her.
“Finish him off!”
The soldiers did not need to be told twice and a Destroy round impacted the wolf center-mass. An explosion of gore showered over the Major, but Deflect prevented any of the high-velocity molten silver shards from wounding her. Wiping what little was needed to clear her face, she grabbed she turned to the remaining soldiers. With the short reprieve, she tried to assess and evaluate her knowledge of the enemy.
“Alright, the creatures are susceptible to Destroy. If they come at you, keep up a Deflect and Destroy your own position, we can handle the shrapnel but they-”
“Major!”
A soldier called out her name. She looked back to find an orange-haired wolf race towards her. She aimed her rifle, pulled the trigger, but it did not fire.
‘Did the blood jam it?!’
Throwing her guns away, she tried what she had worked twice before and grappled with the creature. It reached her and tried to swipe with its claws, but she luckily managed to dodge into a nearby pile of rubble. Looking up, she realized it was not just luck. One of her soldiers had pushed her out of the way. With a swipe from the creature, the man collapsed into the rubble as well. Crouching low, she used the opportunity her subordinate gave her to grab the monster at its waist and used Empower to fling it into a nearby wall. It gracefully landed on the wall and used the momentum to jump back at her. This time she was ready. She grabbed both of its hands in her own.
It growled and yelled as it tried to move its arms, but her gauntlets barely held on. She could feel the Empower and her iron gauntlets buckle under the pressure. One wrong move and not only would her arms be broken, but they would be sheered off at the elbow.
‘Gah! What is this thing made of?! The black one was bad enough, but this orange wolf is a whole other level! I’ve used these gauntlets to bend steel! How can it be pushing me back?! I won’t be able to take much more of this!”
The wolf tried to use its mouth to bite at her face but she ducked away. It growled with a male voice.
“You took everything from me! My name is Alphonso Bieri and I will kill you today, Devil!”
She stared at him in confusion, partially at the realization and partially because she had never heard that name before.
“I- I don’t even know who you are?”
With a scream, the monster finally overcame her gauntlets and Tanya could feel her hands getting crushed. Through the pain, she just barely recognized that she was toss to the ground a few meters away.
“Now!”
She barely recognized the voice of Lieutenant Serebryakova sounded out to one side and Tanya looked up to see the Orange-Haired Chimera had a number of large holes in itself. With a cough of blood, it collapsed to the ground and stopped moving. In her adrenaline-fueled mind, she could not help but retort.
‘Ha! Get up from that you son-of-a-bitch… wait, that might be literally true…’
Tanya would not be able to continue that train of thought as she focused on her Adjutant rushing to her side.
“Major! Are you alright?”
Tanya could not feel her hands without severe pain, but the adrenaline allowed her to sit up. Rashly, she thought that the lack of pain meant that she was fine and pointed to the soldier that was attacked moments earlier. She felt she owed it to the man for saving her life.
“I- I’ll live. Lieutenant! Save that man!”
She pointed her mangled hand to the position of the soldier who had pushed her out of the way earlier. The man was clearly dying with a large puddle of blood beneath him. Lieutenant Serebryakova looked up and rushed to the man.
“Sergeant Hoffmann!”
She cradled him just out of view of the Major, but she could hear what was being said. The man was unusually soft-spoken.
“Ha… sorry Visha. I got… got to help the M-Major a lot more than you did. H-hope you aren’t jealous.”
Tanya’s Adjutant shook her head.
“Damn it Hoffmann, this is no time for jokes. I-”
Tanya strained to hear anything else, but the pain in her hands now started to pierce through her adrenaline and so she struggled to hear anything at all. A few moments later, Viktoriya came back to her and confirmed her suspicions on the developing situation. The soldier was dead.
Tanya shook her head and bit back a yell of pain.
“We move out now. Grab the casualties and get out of here, we’ve overstayed our welcome already. It will be at least 24 hours before we will get serious medical attention and we are already burning precious seconds!”
““Roger!””
“And get me some morphine!”
It took a few moments, but her Adjutant grabbed her in a princess carry and laid her out in the back of one of the cars. Per standard field-medical procedure, Viktoriya took out a first-aid kit from underneath the seat and wrapped two tourniquets tightly around her wrists. Taking out a syrette of Morphine, her Adjutant unscrewed the glass vial and stabbed the metal tip into Tanya’s midsection. For a moment, the pain was almost as bad as her hands were feeling in the moment. For a second, Tanya thought of how primitive and massive the “syringes” were and of several ways she could think to improve them. The next instant, the pain was gone and she had very little to think about at all.
In short order, she felt the car move underneath her and race out of the city.
The Lieutenant looked more angry than Tanya had ever seen and clenched her fists.
“Major, are we going back for revenge? What those things did to our men…”
Tanya groaned, but not from any pain.
‘Damn y-ya blood- bloodthirsty soldiers… Ya saw a man r-ripped right in fronta ya and… and ya wanna go again? We havva go to desert place and kill religious terrorisms just l-like the old world. No needa add Werewolfies ta the menu.’
Of course, Tanya did not say any of that; she struggled to say anything at all. Instead she focused on staying alive, and that meant trying to calm her Adjutant down before she stupidly risked all their lives by not going back to their own lines and to a hospital.
“L-lieuti… Lu… Lilu… Visha. We will be back s-someday. Promise… need to… need to r-run now. We kick p-puppies another time…”
All at once, Visha’s anger evaporated. Tanya started to feel a fuzzy darkness begin to consume her thoughts as Visha looked down at her with a soft expression and smiled.
“Understood… Good night… Tanya”
Major Degurechaff went to sleep smiling, satisfied in the notion that she probably was not going to die that night.
---
October 18th, 1908, Eastern Warehouse District, Millersburg, Creta Occupied Area – Herschel POV
From atop a nearby church tower, Colonel Herschel put down his binoculars with frustration. He could not see every detail of the battle, but he had seen enough to understand that there was plenty of questions needing answers. Going into the conflict, he had been confident of a complete victory. He had surprise, he had an ideal urban environment with plenty of cover, and he had bio-engineered chimeras specifically designed to fight in close-quarters. Based on everything he knew about the Amestrian weapon, it should have been a complete over-match. Even if the defensive capabilities of the adversary had no weakness, he was at least confident his Wolves could escape.
Something went wrong and he needed to find out what.
“Sir, uh what are we-”
His adjutant next to him – a bespectacled young officer by the name of Lieutenant Lon Talbot – began speaking, but the Colonel already turned to leave down the tower’s stairwell.
“Uh sir! Wait for me!”
The two of them rushed down the steps. The Colonel had hoped the trip would be done in silence, but Talbot had found some well of courage enough to speak his mind.
“What are we going to do now, sir? Should we go after them?”
Herschel growled under his mask causing the Adjutant to jump. He tolerated his assistant’s mousy demeanor since the man was at least somewhat competent with Alchemy and could compile the notes of the alchemists and scientists underneath him. The Colonel did not appreciate the Lieutenant’s lack of common sense.
“Don’t be an idiot. We already have reports of frontline depots being destroyed across the entire front. There are no doubt dozens or even hundreds of these super-soldiers. That they had so few attacking Millersburg is more a testament of their obvious capability and Amestrian arrogance than a critique of their numbers. Following after them will just result in the death of the remaining Chimeras.”
Lieutenant Talbot adjusted his glasses and fumbled through a few papers, showing surprising dexterity in navigating the tight stairway without looking where he was going.
“I knew the project was still in its early stages, but this result is rather telling. We have failed to-”
The Colonel activated the transmutation circle on his hand. Electricity shot all around them causing bits of the metal railing to melt and parts of the nearby masonry to pop and scatter bits of stone everywhere.
“Shut up.”
His adjutant finally kept his mouth shut as they finished walking to the bottom and out to a waiting car. Climbing in, the car’s driver starting moving towards the scene of the battle. The Colonel deactivated his mask, allowing a spike of pain to focus his senses. He turned to his assistant.
“This was no failure, this is not even a setback. It is now abundantly clear that Amestris has once again leaped ahead of Creta in Alchemic development, but that has only highlighted our importance even more. A report from me with photographic and documented evidence of the local military failures will have our Project showered with funds.”
As was always the case with the Lieutenant, despite being glared at by the Colonel’s massive form, he could not help but keep talking.
“But sir, the war… With the amount of damage we’ve taken, the front-”
Once again, the Colonel cut the man off.
“The front will collapse, yes. That is none of our concern. For Creta, this war has been a colossal waste of time and resources. As with their every action, the Council and its promises of glory and retribution were all talk. They will be ousted and their successors will come to me, begging for solutions. The Council can no longer deny reality. Our project, and others like it is the only future.”
The car stopped and the two got out to see the end-result of the vicious battle between the super-soldiers of both Amestris and himself. As far as the eye could see, building were either fully ruined on on the edge of collapse. Large craters and rubble filled the street and every surface was riddled with bullet-holes. Seeing the carnage, Colonel Herschel was no longer as surprised that eight of his Chimera were killed. Their partially or completely destroyed bodies were scattered around and with the amount of blood in the area, he had no doubt most of it belonged to his side than that of the Amestrian Commandos.
Regrettably, they had done an excellent job cleaning up after themselves. The bodies – and any potential clues about their power – were absent. They would be forced to glean an understanding from the corpses left.
A twitch of movement had Colonel Herschel spin around and prepare his alchemy for combat. However, his combat instincts in this case were unneeded. Instead, it appeared that his Orange-haired “Alpha” Wolf Chimera had survived. The Chimera was the result of the project’s newest serum. It killed most of the subjects it was administered to, but those that survived were far more capable and completely recovered from any ailments or injury they had sustained before the operation.
While its full combat potential had been untested until now, the fact that it was alive was proof that the procedural and economic risks of the Chimera’s creation was worth the cost. Despite the fact that the Colonel could see clear through several cavities in the Chimera’s midsection, the wounds were slowly healing. The wolf – seemingly ignorant to its ruined state – struggled to stand. It coughed copious amounts of blood and panting heavily as it tried to move forwards.
It let out a weak howl.
“Argh! D-Devil! Must kill…”
Herschel could now see the risk and could not tolerate it recovering further. It had clearly failed to defeat the Commandos under the most ideal circumstances. If he let the Alpha go now, its keen senses would catch up to them without issue, but it would find itself in the heart of the a group of enemies best-suited to killing it. The invaluable progress in the project that managed to survive would be lost.
He turned to the soldiers nearby.
“All of you! Quickly, restrain the Alpha!”
The soldiers looked hesitant, but the Colonel would not brook any disagreement and adjusted his posture to match that temperament. The soldiers realized that doing their job was better for their long-term health and saluted.
““Sir!””
They rushed to the wolf and tried to hold it down. The Alpha – even in its weakened state – was proving tough to completely restrain, but it was no longer moving forward anymore.
It growled.
“D-damn you! I- I will kill you Devil! I- I’ll…”
Finally, his assistant had managed to get around to the side of the Alpha and administered a large syringe filled with a faintly orange liquid into the Alpha. For a moment, it looked like the wolf was in pain and thrashed around a little, sending the two solders sprawling to the ground. However, a few moment passed and the thrashing ceased. The Orange-haired Chimera was completely still and asleep.
“Sedative is working successfully, Colonel.”
The Colonel wanted to smash the stupidly smug look Lieutenant Talbot had in stating the obvious, but he restrained himself. Instead he focused on the pain of his face and accepted that his Adjutant at least administered the sedative without him directly ordering it.
Small mercies.
Colonel Herschel turned and marched over to where a team of his alchemists and scientists were busy forensically investigating the scene. While some of the Project had managed to preserve itself and avoid him from suffering a minor setback, it did not change the fact that there was still much that needed answering.
“Now, I want someone to explain things clearly. How did our Chimeras die? They should have been highly resistant to any small arms including explosives. Their high speed was supposed to out-maneuver anything else.”
The Project Lead Alchemist Aalo Hiiumaa – a Drachman woman who shared his aspirations – was arms-deep into one of the wounds of a nearby Chimera. She pulled and arm out and appeared to inspect the blackish ooze with great intensity. She turned to him with a frown.
“I don’t understand it myself, sir. The wounds here are superficial yet… ah!”
In an instant, she once again stuck her arm in a wound, only this time she pulled out something metallic. The flake of gray metal turned the blackish gore of the chimera into a bright-red color more reminiscent of normal blood. The blood did not coagulate and oozed freely to the ground. The Alchemist seemed to pick up on the true nature of the substance at the same time as he did.
“Silver…”
The pain of his face flared as he felt a hot fury building inside of him. He instinctively activated the Transmutation Circle in his hand and lightning flew in every direction. He barely had enough thought to bite out a few words as he felt blood trickle from his face and out of his mask.
“How did they know?”
Lead Alchemist Hiiumaa was visibly frightened and stumbled through a puddle of blood, crawling away from him.
“I- sorry, sir, but I-”
Seeing the effect he was having, he quickly reigned himself in. Grabbing the valve on the back of his head, he twisted hard and felt soothing liquid pour over his face. He could feel steam emanate through his mask as he relaxed. Without the sharp focus, he could now step back and realize that the Wolf Chimera’s weakness to silver was always planned to be removed and that this breach of secrecy was something of a blessing in disguise.
He turned to his Project Lead and shook his head.
“Save it. It is clear we have a mole. This will require a thorough purge. We are in the dark about the enemy’s capabilities, and they know all of our own weaknesses. As bad as that is, it is better than the alternative. If the enemy had overwhelmed the Chimeras with pure firepower, it would bring the whole project into question. This will be fixed.”
A few more minutes passed before the source of the silver was found. A soldier ran up to him with what the Colonel recognized was a standard clip used in Amestrian 8mm rifles.
“Sir, I found this among the things left behind by the enemy. Apart from a few shell casings, there wasn’t much to find…”
The Colonel inspected the clip and was unsurprised to find that the typical faded-gray metal of the 8mm rimless round’s full-metal-jacket was instead far brighter. Apart from the bullet, however, the cartridge looked exactly the same as the reference material he had seen in the past.
“Silver bullets, but there is not nearly enough space for an explosion of that size… unless…”
Using his alchemy, he felt into the composition of the bullet and was shocked. The silver was not completely pure. Instead, it was alloyed with trace amounts of chromium – no doubt for handling being fired from a rifle – but also traces of gold and copper at a 20:1 and 10:1 ratio respectively. The conclusion was obvious to him.
“Alchemic silver. The metal has been specially purified to maximize its ability to be transmuted. They must have some method of exploding the bullet through transmutation. No matter the method, gold would be easier to manufacture. Unless the alchemist who designed this round just happened to have a large amount of silver on hand, or actually gave a damn about the risks of a failed transmutation in the hands of these commandos, this was undoubtedly designed specifically to counter our Chimeras.”
The Project Lead seemed relieved by the news. She let out a sigh and shook her head.
“I see… We never had a chance from the start. We should count ourselves lucky that we managed to take out even a few of the Commandos by surprise.”
The Colonel walked away, leaving the alchemist and her team to her work autopsying the corpses. He looked to the sun rising in the east and made out to grasp the orb in his hands.
“You might have escaped me this time, Devil of the East, but I am no longer held back. I will return with the full force of Creta.”
He would uncover the secrets of this new mysterious alchemy; something which produced alchemists like so much machinery. He looked down on the small signet ring on his left hand’s little finger, the black and gold symbol engraved on its face were highlighted and shined in the sun. It was the Ouroboros; specifically, it represented the winged serpent engraved in the great work De Lapide Philosophico from which his family was inspired to craft the alchemy he now bears on his skin. The Ouroboros was the symbol of Mercury: the first substance and the most important of his Order. It defined the foremost law: that before Wealth, Power, Morality, or anything else, Truth was the first matter; the prime substance from which all else derived.
The ring was his eternal reminder of it goal and his pledge. He clenched his fist, raising his ring to the sun. The faintly glowed and warmed with the energy from the Source.
“Your Truth will be revealed to me. It is only a matter of time.”