Bombers

As soon as the deafening explosions ceased, we were summoned to the Headquarters—the nerve center of the Oceania military. In the freezing night, Ilaina and I silently made our way to the celebration venue. To my surprise, it turned out to be nothing more than a drinking table set up in the middle of an abandoned five-star hotel, fully stocked with food and drinks. Apparently, the entire base had secretly arranged this little banquet for us as a token of celebration. Honestly, it felt more like a romantic date than a military gathering. I suppose everyone had already noticed how close Ilaina and I had become. But wasn't this a bit too much?

Calling it a "feast" would be an overstatement. In reality, we only had a few bottles of beer and some snacks. In peacetime, these things would have been dirt cheap, but now they were a rare luxury.

I pulled out a chair for Ilaina and said,"Shall we celebrate? Have a seat. I'll pour the beer. Oh wait, can you even handle alcohol?"

Ilaina raised an eyebrow and shot me an assessing look."Klaus, you're underestimating my drinking capacity."

I chuckled without responding, grabbed a fancy beer bottle, and poured us each half a glass.

"Alright then, cheers to victory, Ilaina Volkov.""Cheers to victory, Klaus Polskarov.""For a democratic, independent Oceania and an everlasting Republic."

With that, we clinked glasses and downed the beer in one go. The bitter taste of malt filled my mouth, lingering even after I swallowed. I savored the refreshing sensation I hadn't felt in ages, allowing myself to relax for once.

Glass after glass, I lost track of how much we had drunk. By the time we finished most of the beer on the table, the alcohol had already muddled my mind. I leaned back in my chair, absentmindedly twirling the glass in my hand while chatting with Ilaina.

"Ilaina, you were lying, weren't you? With this kind of drinking tolerance, you call yourself a good drinker?"

Ilaina squinted at me, trying to process my words through the haze of alcohol."What? Are you mocking me now?"

"Not at all. Just saying that it's not good for a lady to get too drunk."

"What's there to worry about? You're here, aren't you?"

Suddenly, Ilaina reached out and pinched my cheek, making me snap out of my drunken stupor for a moment. I was taken aback—warmth blossomed in my chest. I hadn't expected Ilaina to trust me this much.

"You trust me that much? Aren't you afraid I might have bad intentions?"

Ilaina half-closed her eyes, speaking slowly in a soft whisper, yet I caught every word."What bad intentions could you possibly have? Sometimes, you're like a little white rabbit, always overthinking things. Besides, if it weren't for you, Ilaina would've been dead in Kritchenburg long ago. You mean a lot to me. I'm really lucky to have met you."

I didn't quite agree with the "little white rabbit" part, but that didn't matter anymore. A tidal wave of joy surged through me, and I probably looked like a fool grinning from ear to ear.

…

The gathering eventually came to an end. Both Ilaina and I were completely drunk, and the others weren't much better. Her face was flushed red, and it seemed like she was about to fall asleep. I bid farewell to the rest and helped Ilaina on our way back.

As I supported her along the familiar path, the golden moonlight bathed us, casting our shadows on the ground—two figures almost merging into one. For some reason, my mood became even lighter. Watching her silvery-white hair cascade over her slender shoulders, I couldn't resist the urge to reach out. The strands were softer than I had imagined. As I gently ran my fingers through her hair, I spoke, not knowing if she was even listening.

"Ilaina, you're someone very important to me too. Maybe I've used up a great deal of my life's luck just to meet you."

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Early in the morning, after a wild night of celebration with my comrades over our glorious victory, I woke up and went for a run to get my body into rhythm for the day. I felt surprisingly refreshed after the rare chance to let loose the night before—almost twice as awake as usual.

But my teammates weren't faring as well. Every now and then, they let out long yawns while carrying out today's reconnaissance mission. Fortunately, we were assigned to patrol the villages and communes around Kritchenberg rather than infiltrating enemy lines like yesterday. In these areas, the remnants of the Eurasian forces still lurked, but not in significant numbers, so the atmosphere was more relaxed than usual—though Ilaina and I kept our guns raised and our guard high.

The roads stretched long and quiet today, but our wheels wore down as we traveled. Since our mission involved scouting the villages near our base, we were constantly on the move—briefly checking in on the local residents before hopping back into the vehicle and heading to the next location. Compared to the cities, these rural areas had suffered less from bombings, and the villagers had endured fewer losses. If any deaths had occurred, it was mostly because some foolhardy individuals had ventured outside at night—the prime time for enemy activity—only to be shot dead.

Putting aside our resounding victory, a far greater issue loomed within the military district. Whispers of dwindling food and water supplies had begun circulating among the soldiers, and soon, those rumors would reach the ears of the refugees. I could already sense the impending chaos. It lingered in the minds of those around me, festering like a malignant tumor—silent but ominous. It hadn't erupted yet, but I knew the day would come when I'd have to face it.

And as if my thoughts had willed it into reality, the heavens once again tested me, placing the detonator in my hands and forcing me to decide the fate of others—just like the day I chose for my child to live under the identity of a fugitive.

After our morning reconnaissance, we returned to base in the afternoon and evening, turning in most of the supplies we had collected from the villages. Then, Ilaina and I were assigned to distribute what little we had to the refugees. Apart from us, two or three other squads handled the same task in different sections of the camp.

The refugee zone was vast, yet it felt cramped for the people living there. All they had was an open yard with a massive tarp to shield them from the rain and a few worthless belongings to provide some shade from the scorching sun.

During my first few days distributing supplies, the sheer number of people packed into the space left no room for even a proper step forward. We had to maneuver carefully through the crowd while struggling to hand out goods, all while people swarmed us, grabbing and fighting over the supplies. More than once, I nearly lost my temper and lashed out at them, which would have landed me in disciplinary trouble. Learning from that experience, we began using loudspeakers to announce distribution times and instructed people to line up.

Easier said than done. Not everyone followed orders, and many still pushed and shoved their way to the front. Over time, however, the situation improved as we enforced stricter rules. But perhaps we never truly paid attention to what was happening beneath the surface.

That afternoon, after distributing all the food and water to the refugees, I returned to find Ilaina exhausted and fast asleep. She was still feeling the effects of last night's drinking spree, and I realized I had been too negligent.

But just as I arrived, I witnessed a scene that made my blood boil—Ilaina cornered by a group of delinquent young men. Though still groggy from the alcohol, she was conscious enough to weakly resist them. Damn it, I told her to stay inside!

I sprinted toward her, shouting in fury,"You bastards! Stop right there! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The thugs weren't stupid. Realizing I was from the military, they scattered in all directions. But I had already gotten a good look at them, especially the ringleader—the one hiding a gun beneath his coat.

Noticing that I was chasing after him, the thug bolted, trampling over people, shoving and kicking aside anything in his way to slow me down. As he ran, he started yelling,"Soldiers are attacking civilians! The army is beating people! Help! They're trying to kill me! Somebody stop them!"

Clever little rat. Trying to twist the truth, huh? Too bad for him—he had crossed paths with me.

I quickly reassured Ilaina, telling her to go back inside while I pursued the bastard.

Rather than blindly rushing through the refugee zone, where I was unfamiliar with the layout, I veered toward the outskirts, where the open space gave me a better vantage point. I steadied my breathing—unlike the weak, frail student I once was, my stamina had improved significantly through training and real combat experience.

In contrast, the thug was starting to falter. His footsteps grew sluggish, and even from a distance, I could hear his labored breathing. The terrain he was running through was littered with obstacles, preventing him from maintaining a straight, uninterrupted sprint. It was only a matter of time before he ran out of options.

Running out of the refugee zone, the thug sprinted toward the military shooting range. Seeing this, I picked up my pace, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder before swiftly tackling him to the ground.

Before he could open his filthy mouth to bark out another "The army is attacking civilians…!" I slammed my fist into it, knocking several teeth loose. Blood spurted from his mouth, spilling onto the dirt. I grabbed him by the throat and yanked him up.

"Where are your accomplices? Who else is involved? Spill it, now!"

The bastard coughed and spat a mouthful of blood onto my face, grinning through the pain.

"I… I have someone watching from the balcony… You're dead, soldier boy."

"Oh, so that's why you're acting so cocky, huh? Do you even know who the hell you just messed with? Using your pathetic brute strength to rob the weak—first the elderly, now even the army. I'll make sure you answer for this under the law."

"The law…? You really think there's still law in this world…? There's only the strong and the weak. The hunters and the prey. You and I—we're the same, you damn… mutt…"

I didn't let him finish. My fist crashed into his face again. Then another punch. And another. And another. His face swelled and bruised, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. My head spun, caught in the storm of my own fury. My muscles no longer obeyed reason.

That bastard was right. I wasn't much different from him. I had killed before just to survive. And now, I was beating him senseless—not for justice, not for duty, but out of sheer rage. Rage because he reminded me of myself. Every suppressed emotion, every bit of self-loathing inside me poured into my fists, pummeling his already mangled face. Blood splattered everywhere—on the ground, on my hands, on my face.

I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. The rational Klaus—the one who always kept his cool—was nowhere to be found. What had emerged from within me was someone else entirely, someone unleashed by those cruel, bitter words.

I hit him because of me. Because I hated myself just as much as I hated him.

Then, out of nowhere, something struck my head—a wooden baton. My body collapsed to the ground. A barrage of kicks and punches rained down on me. His cronies—they had caught up.

Fortunately, my armor absorbed most of the impact, but my face took the brunt of the blows. Their relentless assault sent my mind spinning in all directions. But my instincts took over—my hand reflexively reached for my gun.

I fired.

One of them dropped. The other two froze in panic.

I fired again.

Two more collapsed, writhing in pain.

The last one, the one helping their leader to his feet, turned pale as he looked at me. His hands trembled. His fat lips quivered as he stammered,

"W-wait… don't… please… We… we won't do this again!"

I stared at him, into his fear-stricken eyes.

For some reason, I snapped back to reality.

Despite the beating I had taken, I wasn't even angry anymore. Instead, clarity returned to me.

Looking around, I realized we had gathered an audience. A crowd had formed, murmuring among themselves, whispering judgments and criticisms about what they had just witnessed. Their words echoed in my head, bitter and scathing. They condemned me, pitied those thugs, painting them as the victims.

I didn't say a word.

I simply let my fellow soldiers take me away.

Thankfully, they had also taken Ilaina back and assigned guards to protect her. That gave me a sliver of relief.

But the reckless choice I had just made… would soon make everything much worse.

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"Private Klaus Polskarov, do you even realize who you just messed with? Your reckless actions nearly put the entire base in jeopardy."

I was locked inside a small, cramped room with nothing but cold stone walls surrounding me. On top of that, the military police had beaten me to a pulp for daring to lay hands on their people.

Biting down to keep the blood from spilling out of my mouth, I forced myself to respond:

"Sir, of course, I know exactly who they are."

"Good. They work for the Supreme Inspectorate. Our superiors have ordered you to stand trial before the military tribunal for recklessly opening fire on officials and civilians. Despite your past achievements, unfortunately..." one of the inspectors summarized the situation for me.

Despite the pain tearing through my body, I couldn't hold back any longer. I shot to my feet and yelled straight into their faces, my muscles tensed with fury.

"Oh, how convenient. So just for a few lousy bruises and some filthy bribe money, you're willing to throw away the life of a soldier? Is that really worth it? While I and countless others put our lives on the line at the front, ready to die for this wretched land, what the hell do you inspectors do? Party, sleep with prostitutes, squander resources?"

My throat burned. Blood seeped from the corners of my mouth. The fire inside me raged even stronger. I didn't care about my future anymore—I just kept screaming:

"Do you bastards even know what I went through in that godforsaken war zone? The psychological torment? You're nothing but a pack of rabid dogs, fed by the Oceania government with dirty money wrung from the people's suffering. Have any of you ever set foot on the battlefield? Or do you just sit here, stuffing your pockets?"

I poured every last drop of my frustration onto these vile officers. They clenched their jaws, silent. I didn't let them speak.

"And you even tried to put your filthy hands on her. That alone speaks volumes about your depravity and deceit. What a mistake it was for me to serve under you scum. Let me make this clear—don't you dare lay a hand on Ilaina again. If you do, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your useless skulls. I, Klaus Polskarov, will protect her, whether my enemies are Eurasian forces… or you."

With that, I turned and walked out, leaving the two inspectors speechless.

Just as I stepped outside, I saw Ilaina waiting for me. The moment she spotted me, she rushed over, her voice filled with concern.

"Klaus, are you okay? Did they arrest you?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine. The problem is, I'll be deployed to the front soon. They're kicking me out of here. But don't worry—I'll handle it. You just stay in the rear and support everyone."

Hearing that, Ilaina stiffened. A hint of sadness crept into her voice.

"You… you're going to the front lines? And getting expelled?"

I let out a weary sigh.

"I'm afraid so. But don't worry too much—I'll get to visit sometimes. Just… wait for me, okay?"

Ilaina suddenly grabbed onto my arm, clutching it tightly.

"No. You have to stay here. With me."

I gently placed my hand over hers and spoke in the most sincere voice I could muster:

"I want to stay here with you, too. But the higher-ups have already given the order. Disobeying means marching straight to my own execution. Ilaina… I'm sorry."

"If that's the case… then I'm going with you."

She tightened her grip on my sleeve. I looked at her in concern.

"Are you sure about this? Ilaina, do you realize where I'm going? It's dangerous. Bullets flying everywhere, bodies piling up faster than they can be buried."

"I have to go. Without me, you probably won't even survive."

Ilaina seemed to have made up her mind. She rose on her tiptoes, and before I could react, I felt something soft and warm brush against my cheek.

For a moment, I was frozen.

Then, her gentle, clear voice rang in my ears.

"See you soon! I'll go pack now. Let me know when we leave, okay, Klaus?"

I stood there, watching as her slender figure disappeared from sight.

Slowly, I touched my cheek where her warmth still lingered.

The heat crept up my face.

"That just now was…?"