The three tilted their heads in unison and looked forward to see a monster charging. In the shape of a bull, its figure glowed and it plowed through every beast in its wake, killing much of the already thinning creatures.

Shana felt far too weak to even run. She wanted to but her legs refused. At some point, strength had escaped them and she realized the certainty of death.

"As if," She laughed and forced a step forward, "As if I'd just give up and die like that."

The two homunculi escaped glances and they nodded to one another.

John dropped his weapon and leaped back.

"Huh?"

The beast was before them and Shana reached out a hand to pull the male who did not do as his companion. It might be an effortless struggle, but it was worth more than standing before the path of a charging, frenzied bull.

Yet.

Banri pushed her away as his lips moved.

"Captain. . ." He smiled innocently, ". . .you need to eat more, you're too easy to push."

An explosion of blue exploded as the forceful ignition of his core shattered the surroundings, engulfing the male and the ravenous mana beasts in the blast. The bull touched the ray of light and it roared in pain.

Her right arm disappeared in a splash of blood.

"Banri!"

Shana screamed as her body was hugged by John's large frame. Their two selves flew through the air.

It wasn't until she felt the pain of breathing that she realized she wasn't dead.

She took a deep breath and smelled the fresh scent of blood and death.

"Banri. . ." She called out as she crawled against the bloody floor.

No one answered her.

"Belmont. . .Faust. . ."

She called names of people she knew were already dead. Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was sickening lunacy. There were no more beasts left to fight. It should have been cause for celebration, but no one answered her.

"John. . ."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

". . .c. . .Captain. . ."

Her eyes widened. "John!"

Shana shakingly stood. She clutched a right shoulder dripping with blood as she shuffled forward with gritted teeth, ignoring the pain running through her.

She walked through a field of blood before she stopped, eyes widening and lips hanging in disbelief.

"J—John?"

Below her was a figure in tatters. He was alive but he was missing so much more than her. His two arms were gone. Half of his chest and rib cage was missing and his head was fractured. He had taken the brunt of the last explosion, shielding her, yet damaging his now exposed core. And it wasn't a small crack, half of the spherical blue orb was missing as if devoured by a void as mana continued to spill out. The thing that made a homunculus themselves—the thing that made him himself—was beyond repair.

"No," She muttered. Her knees found the ground beside him. "No!" She screamed.

"Captain. . ." He mouthed, "Shatter my core."

Her body shuddered.

She bit her lips.

"Why—no we can—. . ." She pleaded as the tears came, "Even if you're injured you can be. . ."

She stopped.

"Be reconfigured? I rather die than that and you know that. That new me wouldn't be me and we both know it."

The Sol Series Homunculi were taken to be repurposed whenever they reached the point beyond healing or repair. In most cases, it was due to a core much too damaged to do anything with but it also occurred with mental trauma. She had seen many men undergo it but they had never been the same after. After all, just like Banri had been made, it was building a new homunculus from the shell of the old.

"I'm sorry," She said through tears, "I'm so sorry. . . . .everyone. . .I led you to your deaths."

"Don't cry, Captain, or they'd wish they were here to bully you. . ." He laughed, then paused and grinned with a face half missing. "You gave us everything we could ask for, so don't be sad either. I think I was alive. . .we all were. Forever fighting but, the moments we spent together as a platoon, that was when we were most alive."

She choked back her tears and grabbed the only weapon that remained on her person after the ordeal, a pulse pistol attached to her thigh. She stared at it, wrapping bloody fingers around its grip. Memories flickered in her mind. Drinking Rose Tea together with a usually reserved Faust. Laughing at Belmont's antics before punishing him. And she and John taking care of the sweet-toothed Banri like a doting father and a stricter older sister.

John looked up at her teary eyes and smiled.

"Thank you, Captain, for my name," He said, "For all of our names."

She placed the barrel of her gun over his exposed chest, touching it with the core that was slowly leaking all its data out into the world. Once it was destroyed, only she would exist with the memories they all cherished.

"Please. . .live in our stead. . .Captain. . ."

She pulled the trigger.

As the vroom resounded and his core shattered fully with a final crack, her voice came out along with the tears she had tried to hold back. She almost screamed all of her emotions. Bawling everything she ever had for them into the bloody world.

She sniffled and choked up as she gripped her weapon.

The barrel of the pistol touched her forehead.

She took rushed breaths, hand resting upon the trigger.

Yet. If she too died. Who would live for them? Who would live for these people most considered objects? Who would grieve for the memories they once shared? She was the only survivor. Yet, as these homunculi were counted as merely weapons, she had been the only participant in the skirmish as well. She couldn't die because, if she did, the world would forget them as nothing more than numbers.

Shana tossed the weapon aside and it landed in a pool of blood.

Under that solitary moon, she cried until her vision darkened. The last thing she saw was the flickering image of a fighter jet as she passed out from blood loss and pain from a missing arm.