A black sea cawing on land, that's what that army of crows is. With their beaks they tug at the flesh and devour the eyeballs of the stiffs that carpet the already slumbering battlefield. The birds, with their intelligent eyes and bright plumage, swoop down as you approach in your uniform of the same color as their wings, only to land again a few seconds later, leaving you in a moving, everlasting circle.
Your partisan warmonger's cap protects you from the inclement sun, and straps hold your bolt-action rifle on your back. In your hand, the PDA with integrated radar guides you among the bodies to find the metalcorona plates, that virtually indestructible material that bears the names, mission, and blood type of its owner. You bend down, pick up one of those chains with plates among the scorched bones, scan it with your PDA, and there's a new name to memorize in The Mortuary. A mother, or a wife, or a father, or a child, will finally be able to mourn a loved one.
You continue the arduous journey. You stumble upon a body that is quite fresh, in the sense that it still has eyes and a face. A very good looking girl despite her dead, vacant look. The PDA doesn't point you to any plates, but you decided to look anyway.
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With the delicacy instilled in you, you move the body, until the barcode on the back of the neck shows in the sun. You sigh, let go of your head, and scan the code with the PDA. The harvester that produced it now knows that one of its biological products has fallen. To conclude the task, you call out three names:
Aurora, Amelia, Angela!
The triplets rush to your position, stirring up the malagüero birds. Three white little sisters with gold curls and European features catch up with you, bringing the rest of your equipment and supplies. Francesca found them and taught them, and by the competent manner in which they pull out the saws and pliers, and begin to dismember the body of the harvest for later recycling, it is clear that she instructed them excellently.
The parts end up in a garbage bag, which you then take away. Angela mistakenly damaged the kidney, and in front of her tearful expression, you plant a hand on her scalp and comfort her with kind words. It is worth returning the flesh and organs to the creative company, they are always generous with retribution. Besides, an honorable mission like yours relies on donations and gifts to function.
Plus faith. Tons.
Oh, divine war! Thy will be done!
Final 3: Believer.