My name is Edgar Bauer. I’m 24, and in all those years I have never seen anything quite like this.
“My! That is quite the hole!”
“That’s what she said!”
“…”
For once, nobody calls Jerry out on his shit, because that was in fact what the only ‘she’ around here said. And for once, I agree with the sister. That’s one hell of a crater. It’s absolutely enormous. I would’ve never imagined something like this would be right smack in the middle of Kradsgraad. Then again, we’ve never been this deep into the ruined capital and it’s surrounded on all sides by the crumbling remains of barely-standing sky-rises. We might be the first ones to lay eyes on this area since the bombing runs stopped years ago. Could be a golden opportunity, or a massive waste of time, and I’m kind of glad that I don’t need to figure it out myself.
“What do you think, Michael? Skip or check?”
I turn to our treasure-sniffing expert, who’s already surveying the crater with the help of some binoculars.
“I think I see some basements poking out of the ground over on that side.”
I glance in that direction and definitely see some rectangular structures poking out of the crater wall. Not a lot of structures or rubble on the streets around that spot, actually. Was it a park or stadium or something? Suits us just fine either way.
“Good enough for me. Let’s move while we still have daylight.”
Nobody grumbles or complains as we start circling the massive hole. After three weeks of this, we all know to trust the kid’s intuition. Even if we’re in a completely new area he seems to know where the good stuff is at, and the few times we’ve ventured out without him we’re lucky if we get half our usual haul. I’m guessing it’s because he grew up a street rat and he has a feel for these high-density settlements even if he was born in another city altogether. By contrast, everyone in my unit’s a country boy, and most of us share a village with someone else. The wilderness is more our scene. Not the southern jungles, though. We’ve all had quite enough of the trees whispering Elvish for one lifetime, thank-you-very-much.
“Hey, Edgar?”
Jerry suddenly approaches me while we’re making our way through the ruins. We went all out and brought all our members for this multi-day expedition. With 20-ish people we have to move in a long and disjointed line. The idea is to spread out so we don’t put too much weight on the rubble piles we’re climbing over and cause them to shift. With tall buildings packed in this tight, you never know when you might cause a catastrophic domino effect. I’m usually scouting ahead and our medics should be towards the middle, so Jerry must have something important on his mind if he came all the way up to the front.
“What? Something happen?” I ask in a low voice.
“The sister seem a bit weird to you?”
“… The hell are you saying? It’s the Flashbang we’re talking about.”
The nickname started going around after that incident at the police station. I wasn’t going to say anything, but that dumbass Mark told everyone about it, including how the entire length of her skirt got torn in the fall without her noticing and we ended up getting an eyeful of her bare legs and bloomers. The lads laughed it off at first, but we’re all a bunch of gorillas and she’s the only real woman we interact with regularly, so they started watching her a bit more closely since. Sure enough, that disaster of a sister ended up causing a few incidents every expedition even though she’s ‘just observing.’ Let’s just say that, though she somehow never gets hurt, that habit she always wears isn’t as lucky. I’d question how she’s able to fix it up so well each time, but it’s probably one of those ‘practice makes perfect’ things, and that woman clearly gets plenty of chances to patch up her robes.
That said, I have to say the way the lads have been ‘keeping an eye’ on her has shifted a bit recently. Rather than hoping for a peek at her skin, they seem to be worried for her and themselves. Traveling with that woman is like walking around with a live grenade in your hand, but she’s surprisingly harmless, so even when she randomly ‘goes off’ the most she’ll do is cause a ruckus and occasionally flash us. Hence, we call her Flashbang amongst ourselves. Jerry’s the one who started it, so I can’t help but wonder why he’s asking something so obvious all of a sudden.
“I mean today, and yesterday. Think about it – we’ve spent two whole days picking our way through the ruins, but she hasn’t gone off even once.”
That’s true, now that he mentions it, but so what?
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think it is. It may be a warning sign. You know, like a canary in a coal mine.”
“… No, I don’t know. The fuck are you on about?”
“Oh, coal miners used to bring caged canaries with them when they dig. They’re small and breathe a lot, so if the workers hit a gas pocket or the ventilation is bad, the birds are the first to notice. The practice was quickly phased out about fifteen years ago since there weren’t enough canaries to keep up with the material demands of the Great War. They were instead replaced by vials of holy water blessed by the Supreme Goddess of Order and Justice, which–”
“Hey!” I frantically interrupt him. “Watch your volume, dumbass!”
We both nervously eye the sister at the back of the line. One would normally think there’s no way she would have overhead us from all the way over there, but she has freakishly sharp ears when it comes to her beloved Lady Ovha. Thankfully, it seems she didn’t notice this time. If she had, she’d be rushing over at a dead sprint to give us another hour-long sermon. None of us are all that religious so we really don’t want to hear it, but the last time someone tried to stop her she slapped him so hard it cut up the inside of his mouth. Jerry says some strange things sometimes, but even he knows better than to provoke her like that. It’s best for everyone involved if we tread carefully around that particular landmine.
“So, the canary thing, what was that about?”
I try to get the discussion back on track. Jerry’s a creepy weirdo sometimes, but his memory is top-notch, if somewhat selective. He just absorbs everything he sees, hears, and reads when something piques his interest, then he randomly spits it back out like a faulty record player. I don’t usually interrupt him when he starts vomiting trivia all over me since it helps him feel better about himself, and we all need self-confidence. Plus, it can be surprisingly useful. That weirdly-wired head of his is what makes him so good as a medic, though his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter makes it impossible for him to hold down a proper job at any clinic or hospital. Their loss, I say.
“It was an example. Wild creatures tend to be much more sensitive to their environment, so people have learned to trust their instincts over their own when it comes to various threats and hazards.”
“Makes sense. What’s that got to do with Flashbang?”
“Same thing. She doesn’t seem aware of it herself, but if her subconscious is making her extra careful, then there should be some reason for it.”
“Hey, hey. You sure you wanna talk about your favorite sister like she’s some beast?”
“… Isn’t she?”
Ah, right. He was acting normal for a bit so I momentarily forgot who I was talking to. The reason that disastrous nun fascinates Jerry so much is because he sees her as an anomaly to study. He will occasionally fixate on whatever piques his curiosity and obsess over it until he learns everything there is to know or something else grabs his interest. It’s the first time it’s ever happened with a person, and it seems that’s causing him some internal confusion, but I’m pretty sure he sees her as more of a thing than a woman. I don’t worry about it much. His intentions are relatively innocent from what I can tell, and it’s hard to argue with his viewpoint.
Though the sister we know is a disaster in many ways, she was once the monster who kept the Great War going for 20 whole years.
“Point taken. Then we should find a safe place to hole up for the night sooner than usual.”
I force a change of topic so I don’t dwell on those thoughts too much. That past is a landmine for everyone around here, not just Flashbang. We’re lucky and we find a pre-war underground shelter nearby. Naturally, most of it is collapsed since it’s nowhere near as sturdy as modern bunkers. As we clear the rubble and bodies to make room for all of us, I’m reminded of just how quickly technology advanced in such a brief time. Of course, most of that development was focused on things essential to the war effort, but a lot of it has civilian applications. Jerry says fields like industry, agriculture, engineering, and medicine have advanced more in the last 20 years than they have in the two centuries before that. I can definitely believe it. When we were Michael’s age, we’d be lucky if our village had a telegraph machine, and now radios are all over the place.
Don’t get me wrong. I’d prefer it if I didn’t spend half my life either working my ass off to make weapons or using them to take lives, but it’s nice to see that something good came out of all that strife. It’s at times like this, when the lads and I can just make a fire to keep ourselves warm at night without worry of getting sniped or bombed, that it really sinks in. The madness is finally over, and I’ll relish the peace and quiet with glee. If preserving that means playing along with a war criminal’s scheme, then so be it. Ah, incidentally, Jerry already figured out who Sister Agatha actually is, and that only made him all the more interested in her.
Classic Jerry.
*KHRAKHOOOM*
I’m awoken by thunder so strong that it seems to make the crappy bunker rumble. I’m not the only one, but the kid and the sister are the only ones who panic. A quick peek outside confirms it’s just a rainstorm. Not too big, but not insignificant, either. This sucks. It’s too risky to go anywhere until it clears up and our hidey-hole could get flooded or collapse. I quickly tell the guys to go shore up the walls and keep an eye out for pooling water, then I go to reassure the two scaredy-cats in our midst. I bring Jerry along since if he gets involved in an emergency that isn’t medical in nature, it’s liable to become one. He’s not as bad as a certain sister, at least.
“Thanks be to Ovha!”
The nun in question falls to her knees and clasps her hands when she hears the news.
“I feared it might be an old bomb or something.”
A valid concern, and our first thought as well.
“… Wait, old bombs? Like, leftovers from the war?”
Oh? It’s rare to see Michael’s eyes go that wide. Wait, did he seriously not know? Is this a rare chance for me to school the cheeky brat for once? Well, don’t mind if I–
“Unexploded ordnance is a common hazard when exploring war-torn urban regions. Not just bombs, but also grenades and artillery shells. It is one of the main reasons why salvaging is seen as a bottom-feeder’s profession – too much risk for too little reward.”
“… Fuck you, Jerry.”
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“Huh? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, sorry, my tongue just slipped.”
I brush Jerry off and turn to the kid instead. He’s white as a sheet and can’t say a peep. Seems the lesson has sunk in, which is more important than some petty revenge on my part.
“Honestly, you’re lucky you’re still in one piece,” I bluntly tell him. “I trust you can now understand why everyone’s opposed to you doing this kind of thing on your own. Right, Sister?”
“I’ll say. I thought it was obvious, but it seems he wasn’t aware after all. Oh, dear. He’s such a clever boy so I didn’t consider this at all.”
Obviously she would think this is common sense, but it really isn’t.
“Michael, I pray for your safety every day, but don’t you think it’s about time you gave Lady Ovha some thanks of your own?”
“Y-yes, sister. I’ll do the prayer right now.”
“Good boy.”
The usual crooked smile surfaces on her face as the rattled brat kneels next to her, clasps his hands, and starts mumbling under his breath. He tenses up for a moment when she places a hand on his head, but calms down right after. It occurs to me that he’s probably accumulated some trauma after two years of living with this madwoman, but that doesn’t earn him my sympathy. Everyone still alive today is damaged goods in some way or another. Though, as I watch this strangely wholesome scene, I can’t help but notice something amiss.
“Hm? Sister, do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
“Of course not, my child. What is it you wish to know?”
“How come I’ve never seen you pray before?”
She will sometimes assume the position and she’ll talk anyone’s ears off the instant they show the tiniest bit of interest in the Supreme Goddess, but she’s never worshiped her properly like what the brat’s doing. It seems odd for a nun, and downright unthinkable for Agatha von Kocher. If she truly was the strongest paladin in history, then shouldn’t she be a touch more… devout? I’m not sure how I didn’t realize it sooner, but now that I have, it bothers me so much that I can’t help but stick my hand in the fire.
“My, you say some silly things, Edgar,” she smiles with a hand on her scarred cheek. “I’m always praying to my Lady Ovha.”
I eye her up and down and glance at Michael. I catch his eye as he peeks up at me, but he quickly shuts it and goes back to mumbling. I take that to mean I’m not headed for a minefield, so I push a bit further.
“Are you, though? I mean, you’re not doing it right now.”
She kneeled in what seemed to be supplication, but she didn’t actually say any of the words of praise that the brat’s muttering.
“I am ashamed to admit that I have but one mouth,” she happily tells me. “It is not nearly enough to convey the true depth and breadth of my feelings, so I express my devotion to the Supreme Goddess in my mind, in my heart, and in my soul.”
“Is that really enough?”
It sounds like a cop-out to me.
“I agree completely. Even though my silent exaltations occupy every waking moment of every single day and continue even in my dreams, I yearn to sing her praises so that all who dwell in heaven might hear them. If I were to give into that overwhelming temptation, I would not be able to stop myself until my throat runs dry, my belly turns empty, and my breath goes still. My only regret as the darkness overtakes me is that I am unable to drown the Almighty Ovha in my bliss until I awake once more!”
I feel a cold sweat forming on my brow as her voice deepens and her eyes widen so much that her glass prosthetic nearly falls out of its damaged socket. She’s 200% serious. I’m not sure what this is, but it goes beyond ‘crazy’ or ‘fanatic.’ It’s straight up terrifying. Thankfully, she calms down a bit and reins in both her volume and her manic stare.
“But, such unbalanced indulgence is forbidden to me. Though I know not her intent, I sense the Supreme Goddess still has need of me on this mortal coil. Until that unknown duty is complete, I must temper my desires with the hammer of reason against the anvil of restraint. This state of constant if silent prayer is the compromise I have reached. Ah, but I still get a bit too into it sometimes and forget to watch my own feet, hahaha!”
Hm? Wait, hold on. She said that last part like it’s a joke, but is that it? Is that why the supposed mega-genius of the past is such an irredeemable airhead? I thought it was just an act or maybe some brain damage from whatever injury gave her that scar, but in reality her head’s so full of her Lady Ovha that there’s literally no room for anything else? That makes no sense! Not even Jerry gets this obsessed over things! How can a war criminal be a bigger Jerry than the actual Jerry?! I look at Michael and hope he’ll reassure me that I’m just misunderstanding something, but he just gives me a tiny nod. No way!
“So has something else been on your mind lately?”
“Shut it, Jerry!”
I can’t help but snap. You’re just a Jerry so stop trying to start a new race of Jerries with your fellow Jerry!
“Sorry.”
Ah, no good. My brain’s struggling to make sense of things so I ended up mistaking my friend for a newly-emerging lifeform. He’s so confused he apologized even though he has no idea what he did wrong. It’s normal for him, but for once he really isn’t at fault. I’ll make it up to him later.
“Good heavens. Was it really that obvious?”
For now, let’s stay calm and make the most of this chance and coax some more out of She-Jerry, I mean, Sister Agatha while she’s still in a cooperative mood.
“Not at all. It’s just that my friend here is very observant, and he noticed you didn’t seem to be acting like your usual self.”
Michael’s face shows a brief flash of realization as well, but he’s still doing his thing and knows better than to stop halfway. Actually, how long is he gonna take? If it’s a simple prayer of thanks it should’ve only taken two verses. Then again, if that fanatic’s the one who taught him the words then he’ll be there for a while. Hopefully he doesn’t mess up and has to start over, but the kid’s got a good memory that’s way less selective than Jerry’s. I feel like he’d do really well in school, if he ever got the chance to attend.
“I suppose I might as well tell you, at this point.”
I focus on the sister as her face turns serious for the first time in forever, it feels like.
“This crater you intend to investigate, the truth is I recognize it. It’s where the royal palace used to be. I had a feeling we’d end up here when you said we were going to explore this part of the capital, but as a mere chaperone it wasn’t my place to say anything.”
“I see. We did target this area because it was supposed to be an administrative district, but I didn’t think we’d stumble across something so important.”
We have some old maps of pre-war Khradstgraad, but so much has happened since they were made that the most we can get from them is a general sense of direction. I don’t think we would’ve sought this place out on purpose if we knew what it was, but since we’re here…
“Would you prefer it if we left it alone?”
“As I said, I am a mere chaperone. Our course is none of my concern unless it directly threatens Michael’s safety.”
“Sounds like you’re pretty concerned to me.”
She screws up her face and looks away. It’s not cute at all. If anything, it’s kind of scary, upsetting the Supreme Butcher and all. Anyway, I think I get where she’s coming from.
“Alright then. As leader of this expedition I am temporarily promoting you to assistant treasure-sniffer. Your new duty is to decide whether we should investigate the crater or not.”
“Please do not joke around like that, my child. It is unbecoming.”
“I am completely serious.”
“You… Ah, I see…”
She sighs as she relents. As one might expect from those beholden to the Supreme Goddess of Order and Justice, rank is everything. Someone as absurdly devoted to Ovha as Sister Agatha would probably stop breathing if someone she recognized as her superior ordered her to do so. A lot of officers I served under were like that and expected the same of us grunts. Of course, I would never presume to boss her around, but my gut tells me I should make her spit out whatever she’s hiding, just this once. Our lives and livelihoods are at stake, so I’m relieved when she decides to play along.
“I believe it would be a profitable venture. The exposed underground structures that Michael spotted are most likely the royal vaults. Many historical and cultural relics are sure to be inside, and Mr. Klein will reward you greatly for their recovery on behalf of the provisional government.”
“… However?”
“… However, we may come across certain articles that are best left buried and forgotten. For all our sake.”
“Are you able to tell which is which?”
She clearly has some idea as to what we might find, otherwise she wouldn’t be this hesitant.
“I fear someone like me is unfit to shoulder such responsibility.”
“Not even if I made it your job?”
“It is a matter that concerns far more than the fate of this humble salvaging expedition.”
In other words, the Washein Empire’s dirty secrets might stir up the Great War’s embers just a little too much. By all accounts, we really shouldn’t risk that. However, someone else might not be as careful or forewarned. In the long term, it might be for the best if we try to disarm this particular minefield before the inevitable reconstruction effort reaches this far or some other team of scrappers finds the balls to check out that crater. Not to mention that the potential gains are too juicy to ignore. We’ve already saved up enough money to make it through winter, but the Emperor’s private collection? That’s the kind of shit that could set us all up for life.
Alright, time to show this high-and-mighty (former) knight how us lowly grunts do things.
“Then why not kick it upstairs?”
“… Pardon?”
“You are Lady Ohva’s most devoted and loyal servant, right?”
“That is not something I can decide.”
“Then who else can? Come on, stop being modest for a second and say it with your chest.”
She gives me a blood-chilling stare – somewhat muted in intensity since her glass eye isn’t all that expressive or responsive – but I stand my ground. I’ll show you the courage of someone who longs for the easy life, you shitty hag.
“You’re thinking something awfully rude right now, aren’t you?”
Wait, she could tell? Ugh, no! Don’t lose your nerve now, Edgar Bauer! Just trust in the crazy and lay it on thicker!
“I wouldn’t dream of it. It just pains me to see that someone so befitting of the Supreme Goddess’s grace would deny the obvious.”
“… Alright, fine. I admit, there are none who can match my faith and devotion.”
Stated with so much confidence that she didn’t even need to say the ‘I would know’ part out loud.
“Then instead of shouldering the responsibility yourself, why not ask for Her guidance in this matter?”
“I would never!” she suddenly gets flustered. “A mere sinner like me has no right to make such demands of Her Supreme Grace!”
“But this isn’t about you. You said it yourself, this is bigger than all of us. Who better to judge what should be buried and what should see the light of day than the Supreme Goddess of Order and Justice herself?”
“That… I suppose there is no denying that.”
“Then, as her most devoted and faithful servant, is it not in fact your responsibility to ensure that the world is shaped in accordance with Her wishes?”
“Ah!”
The sister basically recoils in shock, hands rushing to cover her gaping mouth. It’s an expression that says ‘I didn’t think of that!’ just like Michael’s did, just louder. It’s clear who won in this battle of wits. She might’ve stood near the top of the greatest military force to ever exist, but that’s in the past. We’re all in the trenches now – literally inside a giant hole that’s slowly flooding – and this is my arena.
“If you understand, then let’s go get you some breakfast,” I offer the kneeling woman my hand. “This rain won’t let up for a while, but we should get going the instant it does.”
“… It seems I have misjudged you.”
She smiles up at me and firmly grasps my hand, but something is wrong. It’s not a lopsided grin. The corners of her eyes and the edges of her mouth are in perfect balance, making her expression look a great deal more natural. That is precisely why it scares me. It’s not the usual smile. Also, it can’t help but notice that her grip on my hand is a bit too tight.
“I see, I see. I thought you were just some opportunistic piece of human trash, but it seems you truly respect Lady Ovha. How marvelous!”
It dawns on me that I might have gotten too full of myself as I am dragged down to my knees so fast that it takes a split second for the pain of them hitting the floor to reach my brain. The sister completely disregards my very obvious discomfort and my equally audible yelp as she grabs my other hand and presses them together in front of my face. The pressure those spindly fingers put on my wrists makes me feel like I’ve just been arrested.
“This is no time for something silly like breakfast! We must immediately pay homage to the Supreme Goddess for this fateful encounter! I’m sure a man as devout as yourself already knows the core prayers, so allow me to enlighten you further!”
Forget the rain, I’m not going anywhere until this fanatic’s faith-boner goes down, and I dread to imagine how long that would take.
“J-Jerry’s still here! I’m sure he doesn’t want to be left out!”
Misery loves company, and in my panic I attempt to drag him down with me. I know I’m supposed to be his friend, but I can’t help it that I’m also a scumbag.
“Truly?!” the nun’s predatory gaze locks onto him.
“No, thanks. Religion really isn’t my thing.”
The idiot just says what he’s thinking without reading the room at all.
“I understand, my child. Another time, perhaps. You may go.”
As it turns out, honesty truly is the best policy sometimes.
“Okay. Later, Edgar.”
For the first and hopefully last time in my life, I truly wished that I, too, was a Jerry.