Invasion of the East
• • • •
Alervon, Northern Sea.
2nd Fleet 第二艦隊, Dai-ni Kantai
Flagship Battleship JN Yamato.
November 27, 1773.
| 8:30 AM | 08:30:00 Hours |
The scorching sun hung over the South China Sea, casting its bright glare across the water's surface, making it shimmer like liquid metal. The battles with PLAN warships felt like a lifetime ago—part of a world that no longer existed. Back then, warfare was about strategy, firepower, and steel clashing against steel. Now, we found ourselves trapped in a nightmare none of us could have foreseen: a war against creatures from myth. The locals called them "Dragons," but to us, they were something else entirely—an enemy beyond comprehension.
Who could have imagined we'd be firing our weapons at creatures the size of battleships? Their massive, armoured scales glittered in the sun, defying everything we knew about nature. It was as if the wars we once fought for power and territory had led us here—to this strange and punishing twist of fate. Back then, we fought for ideals, for dominance. Now, our only goal was survival—to keep these ancient monsters from wiping us out. There was a bitter irony in how so many of us had once dismissed monsters as mere fantasy, only to face them head-on.
Aboard the 82-year-old warship Yamato, she still sailed with dignity. A veteran of four wars, she had avoided the scrapyards that claimed her American counterparts. Sailors in crisp naval-blue uniforms, equipped with Type-89 rifles, paced the deck, while reserve sailors—the only ones deemed fit to crew such a relic—scrubbed her ageing hull. The officers moved purposefully, checking the ship for any signs of wear and ensuring she was battle-ready.
Vice Admiral Kenji Nakamura, standing on the bridge, reflected on their recent victory. His strategy had driven the Aetesian invasion fleet into retreat, buying Alervon and its allies the time they desperately needed. It was clear that the enemy hadn't yet grasped the full extent of their capabilities, a mistake Nakamura was eager to capitalise on. The ocean stretched out before him, calm and deceptively peaceful, as if unaware of the storm that was brewing beneath the surface.
His thoughts were interrupted by Captain Nogami, who approached and bowed respectfully before presenting his report. The captain's disciplined posture and focused demeanour reflected the gravity of their situation, but beneath it all was the shared hope that this hard-fought reprieve could lead to a more decisive victory.
"The delegate fleet has appeared on our radar, thirty nautical miles to the east. Should we inform our Alervon representatives to join us?"
"Yes, of course," Vice Admiral Kenji Nakamura responded. "We will meet them aboard the carrier Un'yō, along with Kaoru Ishikawa. Notify the pilot that we will depart at 0900 hours."
"Aye, sir."
Vice Admiral Kenji Nakamura gave a subtle signal to the officer beside him, who promptly called the helicopter pilot stationed aboard the battleship. The officer returned quickly, taking his place next to the admiral as the two men—both seasoned veterans of numerous campaigns—stood side by side, gazing out at the horizon. The ocean of this new world stretched before them, eerily calm despite the ongoing military operations. It was almost unsettling how the waters mirrored those of the old world as if nothing had changed.
"Sent to do diplomatic meetings instead of levelling those ports. The days of fighting the Chinese have given us a break for once," Nakamura muttered, his voice carrying a mix of weariness and relief. The burden of endless conflict seemed to lift, if only slightly, in this brief moment of respite. The success of Escort Flotilla Two, with its carrier operations striking naval towns along the Artesian Empire's coast, had afforded them some breathing room. Captain Nogami's earlier report had only added to this cautious optimism.
"At least Japan is managing to stay afloat," Nogami replied, sharing the relief. "Alervon's trade deals have kept the yen viable. If we hadn't made contact with them, we might have ended up like those African nations, with our currency worth less than the paper it's printed on. As long as we maintain our payments to their standard, we can hold on."
Nakamura nodded thoughtfully. "Japan has struggled with the yen's value for years, but that's no surprise. Inflating a currency no one wants is a losing battle. However, here in the new world, with different economic standards, it's giving our yen a new lease on life. Who knows? After we deal with the Artesian Empire, we might find ourselves in a position to create something even more appealing."
The vice admiral's words hung in the air, a blend of cautious pragmatism and faint hope. Their focus remained on the immediate task—securing their foothold in this strange new world. But the future held possibilities, and Nakamura knew that if Japan could navigate the turbulent waters ahead, there might be a chance to build something stronger than ever before.
Continuing, Captain Nogami gave an interesting report that caught the interest of the vice admiral.
"We captured some Jylonian merchants while we were at it," Vice Admiral Nakamura said, his tone reflecting a mix of curiosity and amusement. "One of our destroyers stationed at Alervon managed to seize merchant ships loaded with armoured vehicles and equipment meant for the Artesian army. With all that gear, who's even supposed to use it?"
"If I recall correctly," Nogami began, "Vice Admiral Chiyotanda Jinzaburo mentioned back at Yokosuka that the Jylonians are essentially the United States of this new world. Their weaponry is mostly outdated, nowhere near the calibre of what Japan or the U.S. operates. Alervon or the Hindoe Kingdom might be interested, though. The Ministry of Defence has indicated they're not planning to sell our current equipment due to low supply, but they're open to exporting anything that's no longer in service. The Hindoe Kingdom might find value in our surplus; otherwise, we'll just dump it somewhere."
"If the Jylonian nation poses a threat, we should be prepared for whatever they bring," Nakamura said. "Seizing one of their merchant ships could alert them to our presence."
"Or worse, they might declare war on Alervon itself," Nogami added. "This would be simpler if we had a larger fleet. Even after the war with China, we still don't have a substantial carrier force, just some frigates under development."
Nogami continued with reassurance. "It's not much of an issue for now. If Jylon's primary exports are outdated weapons, their fleet won't stand a chance against our advanced equipment. One missile destroyer could easily neutralise their entire fleet. Hell, the *Itsukushima* could have wiped out the entire Aetesian navy if they had known they were under attack."
Vice Admiral Nakamura appreciated Captain Nogami's confidence in the Japanese Navy. Their strong performance, particularly in sinking the Chinese carrier Liaoning, had restored Japan's naval reputation, boosting morale. With these thoughts in mind, Nakamura shifted his focus to the strategic preparations that would shape their future success in this new world.
The upcoming meeting with the Hindoe Kingdom piqued Nakamura's interest. From what they'd learnt, their traditions mirrored those back in Japan. Being so close to Alervon, Nakamura didn't expect any major surprises, yet he was eager to engage with them personally, knowing that Japan could position itself as a valuable ally.
As he pondered these matters, a senior officer appeared on the bridge of the *Yamato*, binoculars in hand, his urgency evident. "Multiple warships spotted on the east starboard of the *Yamato*, sir!"
Nakamura turned his attention sharply to the officer, processing the new information. The situation was growing more complex, but his mind quickly returned to the upcoming meeting with the Hindoe delegate. He knew the diplomatic mission was critical to securing Japan's position in this world.
Captain Nogami soon returned to the bridge, delivering a crisp salute. "Sir, the helicopter is ready. We're prepared to depart."
Nakamura acknowledged him with a nod, casting one last look at the horizon where the enemy ships were spotted. The tension was palpable, but for now, diplomacy took precedence. Both officers made their way to the helicopter, ready to head to the carrier *Un'yō* and meet the Hindoe Kingdom delegate.
Carrier JS Un'yō
| 9:12 AM | 09:12:00 Hours |
The SH-60K helicopter from the JS Yamato made a soft landing on the front flight deck of the aircraft carrier Un'yō. The deck was a bustling scene, with a mix of SH-60K helicopters, E-2C Hawkeyes, and F-18J fighters lined up in orderly rows. Crew members in various coloured uniforms, each signalling different responsibilities, halted their activities as the helicopter approached. From the distance, they watched as the chopper touched down smoothly.
An announcement echoed from the Un'yō's bridge, signalling the arrival of Vice Admiral Kenji Nakamura and Captain Nogami. As the helicopter's rotors slowed to a stop, the two officers stepped out, their uniforms crisp and their expressions resolute. The senior officers of the JS Un'yō snapped to attention, saluting the arrivals with practised precision. Nakamura and Nogami, embodying the tradition and respect of the Japanese Navy, returned the salute with a formal bow.
Standing before them were Ambassador Shin Ogawa and Captain Akane Ami, waiting patiently. The ambassador and the captain, both dignified and composed, responded with deep bows, acknowledging the presence of the distinguished officers. The exchange of bows was more than a simple formality.
Ambassador Shin Ogawa was pleased by the admiral's arrival: "It's good to see once more Admiral Nakamura! Seeing the Second Fleet once more brings pride in my heart that the very navy we have used to defeat the Chinese retains its icon of power!"
"Of course," Nakamura replied, "it was a victory needed to make Japan greater by assuring our allies. With the invitation of the Hindoe kingdom, I'm more eager to know more about this country for myself."
"Like any, we are very excited; I am eager to see this country that has some similarities to us. Truly, the Alervon kingdom is a blessing.
Seemly, the progress of rebuilding Japan in this new world is far more important for its survivability. These men shaking their hands and chuckling only focus on the future for its people and the children that will pass on to continue maintaining the country of the rising sun.
Alervon has showcased its large potential; its oil and large supply of natural resources would like to make it an equal country. If you combine the US plan of having Alervon adopt the American currency exchange, they would far more advance within less than three years than expected, with the assistance of Japan building their homes and providing jobs for the people who need them.
Ambassador Shin Ogawa was visibly pleased with the groundwork laid by Ambassador Tenjo. Ogawa saw it as a crucial step towards building a proper bridge between Japan and the Hindoe Kingdom—one that could transform them from partners into allies shortly. As his aspirations seemed to align with reality, the captain of JS *Un'yō* received a message from a senior officer, interrupting the moment.
"Delegate vessels have arrived," the captain announced. "They're sending a small boat to approach the ship."
Vice Admiral Nakamura, hearing this, nodded with satisfaction. "Cease any unnecessary movements within the fleet. Prepare to receive the diplomats from the Hindoe Kingdom."
The sharpness in Nakamura's tone left no room for hesitation. The crew swiftly moved to execute his orders, with the captain taking charge to ensure everything was ready to impress their guests. From the distance, they could see the Hindoe vessel approaching—a grey warship flying a flag adorned with a deep purple hue. Dark, ashy smoke trailed from its stacks, highlighting the stark technological contrast between the two ships. This was a pivotal day, one that would lay the foundation for Japan's future relationship with the Hindoe Kingdom.
HJN Shirogane
Our two fleets were side by side. I could see those sailors of the Japanese vessel having a flat deck yet having so many blue-coloured aircraft on top of it, and those spiders also bear the same camouflage patterns. It was like seeing two old worlds standing together, on which I saw... The difference between our technology, where our ships were built to fight against the equals of ours and there's design to rain superiority above the air...
"The Japanese delegation fleet has spotted us, your sovereign. Should we prepare a patrol craft for you to enter their vessel?"
Warship like nothing before, the words given by their Alervon allies about a country with advanced technology and capabilities that would leave us a brighter future ahead, a nation whose both spokes and traditions were akin to ours. I was very eager to meet, simply replying.
"Do prepare one... Maintain the fleet in this position while we meet theirs on the vessel."
Empress Kagami and her ambassador both watched from the distance of the 2nd fleet of the Japanese fleet. Recent events occurring over Alervon and the news breaking about the Artesian attempted invasion of the country made it more concerning since there have been previous wars against the Artesians themselves. Allowing ties to be built could allow them to fight back and regain lost territory to make do with what her father had lost, as Ambassador Shin Ogawa expresses some scepticism.
"I don't know, your majesty... Attempting to build a relationship with a country we heard only about through rumours is far from the country that they told us. Looking at traditions, do you believe that we should gamble what little we have for the Hindoe kingdom?"
Empress Kagami seemed confidential about the whole meeting they had prepared since the beginning, turning her sharp gaze towards Shin Ogawa.
"Yes, Father made many mistakes, but I believe Japan could help us reclaim our lost territory. We could correct those past errors and ensure the Artesians are fully expelled from our lands. I've heard that we might be planning a larger operation to invade the Artesians themselves."
"I'm not sure... Japan and the United States of America might be powerful, possibly even equal to or more powerful than the Holy Empire. But the Artesians are allied with the Jylon Republic, which could pose a greater threat considering they operate some of the largest armoured divisions on the continent."
"Nonsense," Empress Kagami said. "Their armour won't stand a chance against our light forces; it's already November, making the southern province very wet. I believe there's little they can do with their heavy tanks. Those armoured vehicles will get stuck in the mud alongside their armoured suits. Our generals have been planning large-scale operations for months, and we've shared intelligence with the Alervon. If we share this with the Japanese, we could turn the tide in our favour."
Ambassador Shin Ogawa valued the confidence shown by the Empress, though he remained wary of her true intentions. Even if they achieved a favourable position, she had yet to address the fleet and airpower of their enemies. As the war continued, it would not be long before the Jylonians deployed a larger force, potentially leading to an alliance with Jylon—an even more troubling prospect.
The XO of the *Shirogane* approached, bowing before delivering the good news.
"The VIP boat is ready. Shall we escort you aboard, Your Sovereign?"
"Yes," Empress Kagami replied. "We will proceed with the mission as planned."
With a nod from the XO, Ambassador Shin Ogawa and Empress Kagami passed by the secondary batteries of the JS *Shirogane*. Commissioned just over five years ago, the *Shirogane* was Hindoe's sole modern warship, a symbol of resilience despite the heavy trade embargoes and restrictions imposed by the Artesian Empire.
The Hindoe Kingdom, known for its long-standing tradition of isolation, had been forced into a new reality when a foreign power brazenly invaded its shores. Since the Artesian assault on the Kazehara Prefecture, the Hindoeians have watched the invaders closely, biding their time and readying themselves to strike back. Her father had attempted to resist, but the might of the Aetesians had proven too overwhelming.
Now, the kingdom struggled to even maintain a semblance of military strength, relegated to a mere "defence force." Empress Kagami, young and determined, understood the grim reality that they could no longer stand alone. As she walked through the ship, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her people's expectations. Beastmen like herself were a rarity—both a proud sub-species and one often subjugated by humans. It was imperative to show strength and equality in the presence of these Japanese delegates, who represented a nation that, much like her own, had faced adversity and defied the odds.
The name "Japan," meaning "rising sun," resonated deeply with her. The Alervon Kingdom's ambassadors had been right—these people were indeed kindred spirits, a nation of warriors and survivors. As she observed the Japanese officers standing in respectful formation, Empress Kagami felt a renewed sense of purpose. Perhaps this alliance was not merely a strategic necessity but a fateful encounter between two nations with more in common than they had ever imagined.
As we boarded the small VIP transporter, we were smoothly carried across the vast expanse of the ocean, flanked by the imposing warships of the 2nd Fleet, Dai-ni Kantai. Despite being in open waters, the sea was calm, and the only sight was the formidable Japanese fleet, their light grey silhouettes stark against the horizon. I couldn't help but compare them to the battleships and a few armoured cruisers the Hindoe Kingdom could muster—outdated and technologically inferior to these modern giants. At the heart of the formation was the aircraft carrier *Un'yō*, which the ambassador had spoken of with great respect.
As we neared the ship, a flurry of small Japanese boats emerged, manoeuvring with impressive precision. The sailors aboard these vessels appeared more curious than cautious; their eyes locked on me with a mix of intrigue and wonder. It was evident that many had never encountered a beastman before. Their uniforms, mirroring the hues of the waters they navigated, blended seamlessly with the metallic grey of their ships. They resembled us in some ways—humans without ears or tails—but their striking similarity was still startling.
As I stepped closer, I noticed how their eyes lingered on my traditional nagabakama, a garment that seemed to captivate them as though they were in the presence of a founder of some long-lost dynasty. They kept their distance, watching with an odd blend of reverence and restraint. As we neared the towering aircraft carrier, a few of the sailors managed a smile, perhaps amused or simply fascinated by the sight of someone so different yet so familiar.
As we approached the aircraft carrier, the sheer scale of the *Un'yō* was astounding—far surpassing any other carrier I'd seen from the foreign fleets that occasionally docked in the Hindoe Kingdom. Its impressive size and capacity for aircraft were unmatched, even beyond the capabilities of the Jylonians. A small hatch on the side of the carrier slowly opened, revealing a ramp that extended gracefully toward our boat. Ambassador Shin Ogawa watched, clearly impressed by the engineering feat.
"Such an amazing ship to have something like that," Ogawa commented, admiring the carrier's seamless operations.
The ramp finally extended, and the princess's escort quickly secured it to our boat. Soldiers, dressed in the same naval uniforms we'd seen earlier, emerged from the hatch and moved swiftly to assist us.
"Do not worry, Your Sovereign," one of the soldiers assured. "We will escort you to our delegates."
With a nod, Empress Kagami and Ambassador Ogawa began their ascent, with the princess leading the way and Ogawa close behind. As they stepped onto the ship, Ogawa felt a pang of nostalgia, sensing something familiar about the Japanese vessel that reminded him of past encounters.
"The United States has plans to oversee our visit to Sollen once our discussions with the Japanese are complete," Ogawa said, breaking the momentary silence. "We're also scheduled to meet with Alervon and the U.S. once these talks conclude."
"I'm aware," Kagami replied thoughtfully. "We intend to request military assistance from Japan. The reason we aren't holding these discussions on the Alervon mainland is due to potential spies close to the Alervon royalty. Revealing too much could give the Aetesians a chance to strike before we're fully prepared. We're doing everything possible to keep our plans concealed."
"And what about the U.S.? Are they willing to assist us?" Kagami asked, a trace of hope in her voice.
"Not at the moment," Ogawa admitted. "Their leadership is hesitant to become entangled in another conflict and prefers to focus on defending Alervon if things deteriorate. However, if there's an opportunity to shift their stance; we should address it when we meet their delegates after our talks with the Japanese."
Kagami nodded, fully grasping the gravity of the situation. The escalating aggression of the Aetesians had only intensified in recent weeks, making every second crucial for the Hindoe Kingdom's efforts to strengthen its defences. Despite their diligent efforts, time was running short, and the relentless might of the Aetesian Empire threatened to overwhelm them.
Empress Kagami could not allow such a fate to befall her people. A growing resolve surged within her to protect her homeland, no matter the cost. As they boarded the aircraft carrier, she was struck by the interior's immaculateness—vast, clean, and well-maintained, a stark contrast to the warships of her fleet. The captain of the *Un'yō* stepped forward, bowing respectfully before introducing himself to the princess, his gesture reflecting the seriousness of the occasion.
"Your sovereign," the captain said, "welcome to the JS *Un'yō*."
• • • •
They told us it was a straightforward military operation—an island that had mysteriously appeared off the eastern seaboard four months ago. At first, we didn't think much of it. Under direct orders from Prince Gourment, it all seemed simple enough. We assumed the island was a lost fragment of Japan, and capturing it might either compel the Japanese to submit or, better yet, persuade them to join our empire.
The waters were cold as we descended into the landing crafts from the side of the transport ship. The soldiers around me murmured and chattered, their voices a mix of anticipation and unease. Many carried a rag-tag assortment of weapons—submachine guns, light machine guns, anti-tank rifles, and more. It was evident this wasn't a finely tuned invasion force but rather a patchwork of whatever resources were available.
As we approached the island, it seemed unremarkable—just another piece of land for our forces to conquer. Yet, the sheer number of troops around me and the battleship looming in the distance suggested otherwise. It was almost as if high command wanted to showcase Aetesian might, flexing our power for all to see. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this mission than we had been led to believe.
We expected a walk in the park, a quick operation to assert dominance and extend our reach. But as I gazed at the island shrouded in mist, doubts began to surface. This wasn't just about strategy or territory. It felt as though we were being thrust into something far beyond our comprehension. And as we surged forward, weapons ready and hearts steeled, I couldn't help but wonder—what exactly were we getting ourselves into?
Aetesian Eastern Sea.
Pogibi, Sakhalin Oblast.
34th Amphibious Division.
Company B, 2nd Infantry Battalion.
November 30, 1773.
| 9:28 AM | 09:29:00 Hours |
It's been a week since Prince Gourment launched the special military operation, and things are spiralling far beyond what we anticipated. Reports suggest that the invasion of the Alervon Kingdom hasn't gone as planned, though rumours claim we've already established a foothold in the country. The officers remain tight-lipped, leaving us soldiers in the dark, unaware of the broader situation. There are whispers that the Imperialism-class battleship was sunk by a single enemy vessel and unsettling reports from the naval base at Jongvale. Everyone is asking the same question—who exactly are we fighting? How has Alervon managed to gain the upper hand against our most advanced forces?
The Jylonians are increasing their support, providing us with bombers that might shift the balance in our favour. There's talk of a large-scale bombing operation that could turn the tide, but those hopes feel distant, overshadowed by the relentless crash of waves against our landing craft. The sea is turbulent, and each swell makes this journey feel more like a punishment than a mission. I grip my weapon tightly as the craft bucks under the choppy waters, with visibility nearly zero. All I can make out are the silhouettes of other landing crafts moving in formation, each one carrying men like us into the unknown.
"Ten seconds! Prepare, prepare!" the craft pilot shouts over the roar of the sea, his voice urgent.
We brace ourselves as the craft surges forward, the salty spray of the ocean filling the air. Some men are pale and seasick; others mutter prayers under their breath. The landscape comes into view—pale beaches and thick treelines that appear deserted and lifeless. With a sudden jolt, the craft hits the sand, and the ramp drops with a metallic thud. We rush out as if the boat were on fire, fanning out in a defensive formation, weapons raised, scanning for any signs of life. But there is nothing—no enemy, no resistance, just an eerie stillness that makes the whole landing feel disconcertingly wrong.
Some of us hesitate, bewildered by the absence of any threat. But orders are orders, and the rest of the platoon pushes forward. Our squad leader gathers us, his voice firm as he addresses the men.
"Stage one is complete. We move now. The northern and southern flanks of the island are our objectives. Fifth Regiment will secure the southern front."
The orders are clear, but uncertainty lingers. We're deep in hostile territory, facing an enemy that has already proven it can outmatch us in ways we never anticipated. And as we begin our march deeper into the island, the question remains—what exactly are we walking into?
More troops began landing on the beach, a constant stream of soldiers pouring out from the LVTs as they unloaded equipment, small jeeps, and crates of supplies. The air was filled with the sound of engines rumbling and orders being barked over the din. Our transport crafts turned back to sea, ready to bring in the next wave of reinforcements.
We moved inland under the orders given, entering what looked like a deserted town—a village at best, with nothing but a few blue-painted trucks and abandoned vehicles scattered around. Suspicion grew among the ranks. Our light infantry units spread out, quickly sweeping the buildings to find them mostly empty. We raised our rifles, fingers twitching near the triggers, nerves taut. The tension was thick, with our officer and squad leaders barking the same command.
"Check every building!"
We split into smaller groups, fanning out through the village to search each structure. The cold November wind cut through our uniforms, adding another layer of discomfort to an already tense situation. As our guys moved through the empty houses, some began to mutter doubts, questioning the supposed technological prowess of the Japanese forces. Why had we been so concerned? The place looked like it had been abandoned for years—a ghost town with nothing but rusted vehicles and broken windows. Despite my doubts, I tried to remain optimistic, though it was hard not to wonder what we were getting ourselves into.
A low rumble grew louder from behind—a light armoured vehicle appeared, its twin turrets rotating slowly, followed by a convoy of trucks. They began to form up, preparing to advance down the main road that seemed to lead deeper into the island—maybe even toward the capital. The battalion regrouped as the last of us finished clearing the buildings, gathering near the road to receive new orders.
I was about to fall back into formation when something on the ground caught my eye—a small, peculiar doll. It was unlike any doll I'd seen before—a blend of old craftsmanship with an oddly modern design. Its fabric was worn but somehow still vibrant, its eyes staring blankly into nothingness. Intrigued, I crouched down and picked it up, the weight of it oddly comforting in my hand.
But as I yanked the doll from the dirt, I heard something—a faint, almost imperceptible click. My heart skipped a beat.
"MOVE! GET OUT OF HERE!!"
The shout cut through the air, snapping me back to reality. My chest heaved as I gasped for breath, the chaos unfolding around me like a waking nightmare. The defensive positions we had dug into were crumbling under the relentless barrage of artillery. The ground shook violently, the ear-splitting noise of explosions drowning out everything else. Dirt and shrapnel filled the air; the acrid scent of smoke and blood thickened in my nose.
The beach was a charming house. Bodies lay strewn across the sand, men from my regiment, comrades I had laughed with just hours before, now twisted and broken. The once-proud armoured vehicles that had come ashore with us were now smouldering wrecks, metal husks that provided little cover from the withering fire raining down. Clutching my bolt-action rifle, I dashed forward, legs pumping desperately toward a group of soldiers huddled behind what remained of a low stone wall. They fired blindly, sending rounds toward an enemy we couldn't see.
It had been a trap. As soon as we landed, everything had gone to hell. Soldiers scattered in all directions, breaking ranks to find cover, firing wildly into the smoke and shadows. But we couldn't see who—or what—was shooting at us. The only sign of the enemy was the constant, whispering bullets cutting through the air, and the occasional shadow flitting between trees.
I dove into one of the abandoned houses, nearly slamming into the machine gunner stationed inside. They had set up his Model 1741, the barrel glowing hot as it spat round after round into the unknown. Sweat poured down his face, his eyes wide with fear and determination. The squad leader next to him caught sight of me and yanked me by the shoulder, shouting over the roar of gunfire.
"Inform the colonel we need medical evacuation!!"
I nodded, still dazed, my mind struggling to keep up with the rapid succession of events. The shock was wearing off, replaced by adrenaline. I darted out of the house, ducking low as bullets cracked and hissed past me. The streets of the deserted town were a chaos of motion, soldiers crouching and firing, scrambling for cover, their faces pale and eyes wild.
We couldn't see the enemy, but we could feel them everywhere. It was as if they were ghosts, invisible shapes lurking just out of sight, watching, waiting. The panic was palpable, every man knowing that each second we stayed exposed could be our last. The thought of what lay beyond that fog, what hidden horror awaited us, kept me moving.
More armoured vehicles emerged from the beach, M1730 light tanks leading the charge with infantry from Company A flanking them, unleashing hell as they advanced. LMGs and rifles barked out in a frantic rhythm, spitting lead into the shadows. One of the M1730s fired its cannon, the shot deafening, aimed at a target hidden somewhere among the dense trees. The shell exploded against the unseen enemy, but the jungle swallowed the sound, and I had no way of knowing if it hit anything at all.
I kept running, making my way back toward the rear lines. The chaos unfolded in every direction—stretcher bearers rushed past, carrying men soaked in their blood, their screams and moans piercing the cacophony of battle. The reality of it hit harder than any training exercise could have prepared me for. Reaching the landing zone, I found it a frenzied mess. More LVTs were arriving, soldiers pouring out in haste, some still half-dazed, others ready to join the fight.
As I neared the battalion command tent hastily erected on the beach, I felt the air shift—a high-pitched whistle growing louder.
"ARTILLERY! GET DOWN!! " Someone screamed.
Panic surged. I hit the sand, pressing myself flat against the cold, gritty surface, arms over my head. The whistle grew into a roar, and the beach erupted in a series of thunderous blasts. I dared a glance up just in time to see an LCT take a direct hit, the vehicle turning into a blazing, twisted heap of metal. The blast wave slammed into me, and I rolled over, ears ringing, heart pounding.
Men shouted, and others cried out in agony. Smoke and sand filled the air, turning the world into a disorienting blur. I saw drivers trapped inside their burning vehicles, their faces twisted in a mix of pain and terror as they tried to claw their way free. The sight was almost too much to bear—a grotesque tableau that I struggled to process. Fear coursed through me, my legs threatening to give out, but some primal instinct forced me onward. I had to move. I had to survive.
I crawled across the blood-soaked sand, my hands and knees stained with mud and grit, praying the next shell wouldn't land close enough to end me. Each second felt like an eternity as I pushed through the hellish landscape, searching for the Colonel amid the chaos. Survival was all that mattered now. The mission, the orders, and everything else faded into the background as I fought to stay alive.
A glimpse towards the sea to see one of the capital battleships aiming starboard side with its large 8 × 12 inch Naval Guns from Turret A-D directing towards the enemy position and gazed to see a flashing yellow light the aftermath of the explosions of the guns and their shell, I could see, down towards the enemy target and sounds of constant explosions raiding down.
The tent had been reduced to a smouldering pile of debris, and I desperately scanned the beach for signs of leadership. Company B was scattered, pinned down by relentless fire, and the few soldiers I saw were in various states of confusion and panic. My eyes caught sight of an NCO crouched beside a radioman behind the twisted wreck of a destroyed armoured vehicle. I bolted toward them, my heart racing, weaving between the incoming troops, who seemed to fill the beach in an unending wave. As I neared, I saw the NCO's insignia—it's it was our Colonel. His face was etched with frustration and rage, his voice straining against the chaos around us.
"Evacuation of the wounded is needed!" He shouted into the radio, his voice raw with urgency. "Our forces are taking massive casualties! We cannot hold this line if we keep sending men into this grinder!"
The response from the other end was curt, almost indifferent: "Negative, Colonel. We cannot evacuate any wounded back to the warships. You are to ensure the success of this operation. The Emperor's will be done."
The Colonel's face twisted with fury as he hurled the radiophone away, but it swung back on its wire, mocking him with its uselessness. "FUCKING POLITICIANS!" he roared, a venomous mix of frustration and helplessness. His eyes fell on me as I skidded to a stop, and he quickly assessed my rank and purpose.
"Company B is under heavy fire!" I reported, breathless, trying to make myself heard over the din of gunfire and explosions. "We need artillery support, sir—another barrage to clear the defenders!"
He looked torn, his eyes darting over the carnage unfolding around us. "We can't!" he barked back. "These men need to get back to the boats. Your squad is ordered to hold your ground, no matter what. We're all that's holding this beach together. Inform your squad leader—we're staying put!"
His words hit like a punch to the gut, the reality settling in like a weight on my shoulders. There would be no reinforcements, no relief, just the cold, hard fact that we were expected to hold this godforsaken beach or die trying. The sound of another artillery round whistled overhead, and I ducked instinctively, feeling the shockwave rumble through the sand beneath me. The Colonel was already turning away, barking orders at anyone who would listen, his face a mask of determination and anger. There was no time for hesitation.
I rejoined the battalion amidst a chaotic firefight, the crackle of gunfire and distant booms of artillery becoming a constant, dissonant rhythm. Shadows flitted among the trees ahead, and our men fired in bursts—some aiming carefully, others wildly spraying with submachine guns. The vehicles crept forward, their engines grumbling low, while a few men seemed unaware of the creeping sense of futility. We were firing blindly into the forest, unsure if we were hitting anything, while the enemy seemed to pick us off with methodical precision. Our casualties were mounting into the hundreds, and the earlier artillery strike had done little more than worsen our plight.
As I made my way back to the machine gun nest, I saw that it was barely manned now, a stark difference from before. Two of the lead gunners were dead; their bodies slumped awkwardly, leaving only one weary soldier maintaining the position. I looked around, searching for signs of hope, but all I saw were more bodies and more wounded men grimly holding the line. My squad leader caught my eye, still alive and firing away, his face tight with strain.
"Battalion leader can't bring the wounded back," I reported, catching my breath. "We're being promised more naval artillery, but we're told to hold this position until support arrives."
His expression was a mix of disbelief and resignation, but he nodded, trying to stay calm amidst the chaos. We kept up our fire, but it felt like we were shooting at ghosts, every shot echoing off into nothing. Then, suddenly, a new sound cut through the cacophony—the unmistakable roar of aircraft engines. I glanced skyward and saw them: hulking shapes, larger than anything I'd ever seen, thundering down from above like predators on the hunt.
Our advance slowed, then faltered. The trees ahead seemed to shift and sway, and as we cautiously pushed forward, the true terror revealed itself. A monstrous aircraft—an unholy beast—screamed overhead, and almost immediately, a storm of rockets rained down on us. Explosions tore through our lines, flinging men and debris in all directions. The aircraft wasn't alone; a second one, its wingman, followed, and the ground trembled under their onslaught.
Men screamed, panic rising as the twin aircraft circled back for another pass. "What the hell is that?!" I heard someone shout, but there were no answers—only fear. We had no anti-aircraft guns, nothing that could touch them. We were exposed, like ants beneath a magnifying glass, and those planes seemed determined to burn us alive.
"EVERYONE OUT OF ITS SIGHTS!!" I shouted, my voice nearly drowned out by the roar of their engines and the shriek of incoming rockets.
The second barrage hit hard. Vehicles exploded like tinder, and soldiers flung aside like rag dolls. The ground erupted around us, showers of dirt and shrapnel flying everywhere. Pinned down, we were helpless against this airborne assault, and I could see the men starting to break.
"Retreat!" a voice yelled—hoarse, desperate. The call was picked up, echoed by others, and suddenly we were running. There was no shame now, only the primal urge to survive. More troops were still arriving from the beach, but none of us wanted any part of this slaughter. The aircraft roared again—a cruel symphony of engines and gunfire, strafing us as we fled.
It was as if the planes were the guardians of this cursed beach, sent to punish us for our intrusion. And as they circled for yet another pass, I realised we were nothing more than prey, hunted down and driven back, fleeing for our lives across a killing field.
—-
The colonel's face was a mask of frustration, his jaw clenched as he took the call from the radio operator. Around him, the chaos continued unabated—mortar shells whistling overhead, gunfire rattling in relentless bursts, and men shouting orders in a desperate bid to control the spiralling situation. He snatched the receiver and held it close, trying to block out the noise enough to focus on the voice coming through.
"Colonel, this is General Tarugo. What the hell is going on? Why is your battalion not moving!?"
"General! The enemy set us up for a trap!" He shouted back, his voice taut with anger. "We have too many wounded on the beach—we need medical evacuation immediately! They caught us off guard!"
There was a brief pause on the other end, then the general's voice came back, sharp and unforgiving. "Colonel! You cannot leave the beach. Stay down there with the wounded and continue advancing until you clear out those defenders!"
"But Si—" he tried to protest, but the general cut him off with a snarl. "I don't give a damn! Make sure your forces clear the area by 1130 hours. We have reinforcements, including heavier tanks and armoured suits, en route to your position. Do not lose the beachhead!"
The line went dead with a crackle, leaving the colonel gripping the receiver tightly, his knuckles white. He was seething, his face flushed with anger. The situation was dire enough without orders from far-off commanders who had no idea what was happening on the ground. He tossed the phone aside, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic scene unfolding around him.
More soldiers were pouring in from the rear, fresh reinforcements arriving to bolster their numbers. But many of them looked confused, unsure of where to go or what to do. The colonel knew he had to regain control quickly or risk total collapse. He turned to his NCOs and shouted above the din, "Get those new arrivals organized! Spread them out and reinforce the flanks! We need to hold this position until the armour gets here!"
As he barked orders, from the sky flying with a design like no before, it swooped down towards his front line troops, and the screams and chaps could be heard from beyond the rear with nothing around to fire it down—too fast and too agile to make it be shot down there. An explosion from the distance as soldiers retreat from just to the beach with more arrivals taking on.
The battlefield was chaos incarnate. Soldiers were retreating in droves; their faces paled with the realisation that everything they had done had only made things worse. The colonel's hands were shaking as he clutched the radio, his eyes darting between the battlefield and the distant fleet. He could hardly believe what he was witnessing.
Through the smoke and haze, a sleek missile streaked toward one of their ships. He watched helplessly as it closed the distance, and then it struck—their capital ship—just above the battery of its massive guns. An explosion erupted in a blinding flash of orange, yellow, and red. The light was so intense that he instinctively shielded his eyes. When the glare finally dissipated, the reality set in their capital ship was gone, replaced by a towering column of smoke and fire.
A stunned silence fell over the soldiers as the news spread like wildfire.
"The AIN Imperialium has been hit!"
Panic took hold. Some soldiers froze, their eyes fixed on the burning wreckage, unable to grasp the enormity of what they were witnessing. Others shouted in confusion or fear, their voices swallowed by the rising roar of more incoming aircraft.
Emboldened by their success, enemy aircraft began to swarm like vultures, diving toward the beach in increasing numbers. Their shrill engines filled the air, and with each pass, they unleashed a torrent of bullets and rockets. The beach turned into a death trap, with the sand erupting in sprays of dirt and fire as shells struck everywhere. The ground itself seemed to tremble under the relentless assault.
"The Imperialium... it's gone," someone murmured, their voice choked with disbelief and dread. The sight of their flagship—destroyed so suddenly, so completely—sent a wave of shock and fear through the ranks.
Soldiers were falling all around: some were caught in the crossfire, others too stunned to move. Many stood frozen, unable to tear their eyes away from the blazing wreckage of their once-proud fleet, now being torn apart by the enemy from above. The colonel realised with a sickening lurch that the general had been on board. Their command was in chaos; their leadership was gone.
"We're being destroyed... What are we even fighting?" A soldier muttered, his voice trembling.
What had begun as a calculated offensive had devolved into a massacre. Within hours, thousands had fallen, and morale had shattered under the relentless barrage. The enemy seemed to dominate both land and sky, their aircraft flying unchallenged, raining death upon the beach with taunting ease.
The colonel's heart sank with the full weight of realisation: the situation was utterly lost. Their forces were scattered, their fleet crippled, and their soldiers demoralised beyond recovery. The enemy they faced was beyond anything they had prepared for—relentless, unseen, and unyielding. All that remained was to brace for the inevitable defeat, awaiting the end to come, crashing down like the bombs from above.
•
Alervon, Northern Sea.
Jylonian Cruise Liner.
Delegate fleet.
"—Military operations over the Far East, conducted by Aetesian forces, are reportedly proceeding smoothly as Prince Gourment announces his campaign against the so-called Kingdom of Japan. Meanwhile, the Jylon Republic continues its arms sales to the Aetesians but remains publicly silent on the kingdom's military actions.
In a statement, Bastanian Minister of Foreign Affairs Gustav Rödhjälm condemned the Jylon Republic for supporting the Aetesian Kingdom's 'imperialist agenda.' In response, the Jylonian government released a statement calling the Aetesian military campaign 'justified under the current geopolitical circumstances.'
This is the Holy Empire Greater Radio, now broadcasting worldwide through Bastanian Satellites, bringing you the latest updates on international affairs from around the globe!"
Aboard the advanced cruise liner, Caroline Yarrow listened intently to the news, the weight of recent events pressing heavily on her mind. Reports of the Aetesian military operations in the Far East—and their lack of substantial success—were provoking significant political backlash across multiple countries. Some speculated that the Jylon Republic might eventually deploy its military to support the Aetesian efforts, which could potentially shift the balance in their favour, but this remained uncertain.
Caroline recalled the embarrassing scene at the conference, where Remington had openly fawned over the Aetesian Emperor, shamelessly seeking favour. His obsequious behaviour had been cringeworthy, especially given the current circumstances: Aetesian forces were suffering severe losses against an unknown enemy, possibly Japan or even the United States—nations whose capabilities and tactics were shrouded in mystery.
Queen Savannah's whispered warnings echoed in Caroline's mind, hinting at the knowledge she had initially been sceptical of. With the Aetesian situation deteriorating rapidly, Caroline recognised the importance of fostering stronger relations between kingdoms, as Savannah had suggested. Yet, the drama of recent events was a persistent obstacle to diplomacy and reason. Their journey to the Alervon capital had gained a new urgency—they needed to solidify alliances and navigate the treacherous waters of international politics in a world plunged into violent upheaval.
Caroline skimmed through the Aetesian Empire's national newspaper, the headline blaring, "Japanese delegation being aggressive." It was all anyone seemed to discuss. Sipping her morning coffee under the sun, she frowned at Remington's latest report.
"Aetesians are occupying an island that likely belongs to Japan!" he proclaimed. "We should appreciate Prince Gourment and his parliament for showcasing our weaponry against the Japanese forces."
Caroline rolled her eyes, irritated by Remington's bravado. "Don't be so prideful in a situation like this," she muttered to herself. "The Japanese have already inflicted heavy damage on our merchant ships and naval yards. The Blue House has given me the option to deploy Battleship Squadron Five from Florian—but I'm inclined to make it clear that we're not the aggressors here."
"Nonsense!" Remington had countered, dismissively. "The Japanese and the Alervon Kingdom have been meddling in our affairs, but they'll be nothing once we send in the battleship division. Aetesians report that Japan's technology is primitive; we can easily overpower them. Their early successes were mere luck, and this mission to 'maintain peace' for the Alervon Kingdom is absurd. Did you know the Aetesians plan to bomb the capital?"
Caroline bristled at Remington's words. His approach was too heavy-handed, relying on brute force rather than diplomacy. She knew that continuing down this path of "big stick" diplomacy would alienate potential allies like the Jylon Republic, making it harder to achieve superpower status.
Remington's aggressiveness was driven by the empire's imperial ambitions, especially after their small war against the Holy Empire had emboldened them. It was reckless, shortsighted, and a recipe for disaster. Caroline feared that, if things continued this way, they would soon find themselves standing alone, without friends or allies, in a world increasingly hostile to Aetesia's expansionist aims.
"I hope you understand this, Remington," Caroline said, her voice firm but calm. "This approach won't hold up in the long run. It'll only make the Jylon Republic a larger target and invite retaliation. Remember what happened to the Holy Empire during the Andes period? We can't afford to repeat their fate."
Remington scoffed. "Don't confuse them with us, Caroline. A country run by an oligarchic hierarchy is doomed to repeat its mistakes. Our system is designed to prevent any single individual from leading us to ruin. I'm well-versed in history, and it's clear that the Holy Empire's aggressiveness is what left them isolated, with only a few allies remaining—namely the State of Bastan and Imperium Valeria, and even Valeria's allegiance is primarily driven by necessity and strategic value."
Caroline sighed, shaking her head. "Allowing this reckless path is exactly why we need a diplomatic solution. We must end this war swiftly before it spirals further. Remember the fate of the Svetlana Empire during the Middleton conflict? They were dragged into a gruelling fight with the Republic of Zarifstan."
Remington's face hardened with frustration.
"And do you know how they got that bloody nose? Because of our country's superior weapons and equipment. God forbid, Caroline, you make us look weak by sitting down with the Alervon Kingdom. Congress won't take kindly to that."
Caroline stared at him, resolute. "It's not about appearing weak, Remington. It's about being smart enough to avoid a conflict that could ruin us. If we keep pushing, we'll end up with more enemies than we can handle, and no amount of firepower will fix that."
The gap between their perspectives was stark. Remington's pride still stung from that moment at the conference, where Caroline had witnessed his grovelling before Prince Gourment. As their cruise liner neared the Alervon capital, accompanied by escort destroyers, Remington gazed out at the towering Jade Palace perched on the cliffs above the port city of Sollan. It was the largest city in the Alervon Kingdom, with hundreds of buildings scattered along the castle walls and the rolling hills below. Despite his frustration, he couldn't deny the city's beauty, though he wasn't about to admit it.
"Monarchy," he muttered with disdain. "The one thing that keeps a country stuck in the past. Do you think this trip is worth it just because they've damaged our allies' ports and cities? We should be bombing this capital right now, not taking the soft approach."
Caroline's patience was wearing thin. "You and Congress can keep your warmongering. I'm here to make sure lives aren't treated like pawns and to prevent the Aetesians and Alervons from killing each other. If a so-called 'primitive' country managed to destroy Aetesian warships and ports, then Queen Savannah wasn't lying about them having a powerful ally. That's why we're here—to see if they're bluffing."
Since the conference, Caroline has been increasingly intrigued by the mysterious Japan or the United States. How could a nation with supposedly primitive technology deal such damage? It made her wonder if the rumours of a powerful Western ally were true. If such a technologically advanced nation had joined their ranks, it could present a huge opportunity for Jylon. To her, that was the real prize.
"I've been thinking ever since that day," she continued. "If they've aligned with such a strong ally, we need to know who it is and why. We must understand what we're truly up against—or what we might gain."
Remington's face twisted with disbelief. "You really believe that?" he scoffed. "Our own ambassador, swayed by the ramblings of a madwoman. If you honestly think—"
Caroline had enough of his bluster. She cut him off sharply, her voice firm. "There comes a time when silence is better than ignorance. If you're going to be a loudmouth, then stay on the ship once we disembark. If you give us a bad impression, remember you're speaking to a superior officer. And I'll make sure your future in this office is anything but promising."
Remington's face tightened with frustration. He knew better than to push further; her authority was undeniable, and he didn't want to jeopardise his standing any more than he already had. With a dismissive scoff, he turned on his heel and exited her quarters, just as the ship began its smooth glide into Sollan Bay.
Caroline exhaled deeply, thankful for a moment of quiet. She stepped out onto the deck, watching the vibrant port of Sollan unfold before her. It was a breathtaking scene: the clear blue waters dotted with steamers and sailboats, while wyverns soared gracefully in the distance. The peaceful beauty of the place contrasted sharply with the tensions that weighed on her mind.
As the ship entered the bay, her eyes caught sight of a white vessel bearing the words "Japanese Coast Guard" sailing alongside them. Her curiosity was piqued—this was the first concrete sign of the entities Queen Savannah had hinted at during the conference. Caroline's gaze lingered on the Japanese flag, a stark white with a red circle at its centre, and the familiar yet distinct flag of the United States of America flying alongside it. The sight fascinated her—these flags representing nations of significant power and influence.
She wondered if they were somehow connected to Jylon, though she knew that was unlikely. Still, the flags held a mystique, symbols of nations whose presence was becoming increasingly important in this new political landscape.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. A man in a black suit stepped inside. "The Alervon delegates are on the phone," he said.
Caroline nodded. "I'll be right there."
As she prepared mentally for the conversation ahead, she knew the stakes were higher than ever. She needed to ensure that the missteps with the Aisha Dynasty wouldn't cloud their future negotiations. Meanwhile, the Jylonian ambassador in Aetesia was working tirelessly to prevent a catastrophic bombing that could decimate this beautiful city. Her goal was clear: to make sure Japan and America didn't see them as a threat.
Caroline understood that to secure peace and prevent the conflict from escalating, she'd need to approach the upcoming discussions with utmost care. Every word, every action, had to be measured and precise.