Editing HEAVY OBJECT:Volume20 Chapter 4 (section)

===Intermission===

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In a dark, enclosed world, Quenser Barbotage finally realized he was being dragged somewhere.

By who?

Where to?

“He has what we’re looking for.”

“Ugh, are you sure? He’s covered in blood.”

“Cast out your doubts, thoughtless maid. He was lying next to that corpse. I’m sure he has at least begun to question this world war. Why else would the hero who saved Paris have collapsed in guilt next to the very enemy he killed?”

His world gradually opened up.

No, that question had directed his mind outwards once more. He still had enough defiance and rebellion to not want to let that stand.

A small girl spoke coldly next to a silent young man named Frank.

“Back with us now?”

“…”

She wore a black uniform, but she was not one of the Legitimacy Kingdom’s Black Uniforms. She was from the Information Alliance. She was Wraith Martini Vermouthspray, a product of their genius girl project. She must have needed something to habitually fiddle with because she was twirling a pen-like device in one hand. He recalled that she was a special commander known as the Stopgap Grim Reaper who swiftly regathered a unit that was left hanging after its commander made a mistake (while actually using the surviving soldiers to buy time).

She was not alone.

Several mercenaries in maid uniforms stood around her. They belonged to the unidentified PMC they called the Battlefield Cleanup Service. Their blonde-haired brown-skinned leader was named Wydine Uptown.

Wraith peered down at Quenser’s face which had to be a mess of exhaustion and confusion.

“This world war will never end if we simply follow the orders of each world power’s higher ups. Things are currently splitting between the Legitimacy Kingdom and Faith Organization in the Old World and the Capitalist Corporations and Information Alliance in the New World, but who knows how long that will last. The world war is growing more confused by the moment. This stained glass world is going to shatter even further. We hope to take action and end this before the flames of war continue to spread. Are you interested in joining us?”

“Are you serious, Information Alliance? You’re one of the people who attacked Paris once we were defenseless.”

“We are,” admitted Wraith. And then, “I don’t trust the Information Alliance any more than you do and that efficient but worthless world power isn’t in command here. Feeling more interested in trusting us now?”

He noticed a strange decoration added to the unit insignia on Wraith’s shoulder. It was a compass needle formed from a tall cross with the top and right points and the left and bottom points connected by lines. It had been hastily added with spray paint. The compass was positioned above and left of the insignia, so it wasn’t overwriting that. The insignia was positioned perfectly in the right angle there.

“Everyone who has gathered in opposition of the world war is doing this,” bluntly explained the girl.

The Stopgap Grim Reaper was a special commander who regathered units that had fallen due to a military scandal. Was Wraith doing that on a global level now that she had left the Information Alliance?

“We’re calling ourselves Together By Chance. We have gathered together by chance to cast off our ties to the world powers and join forces to end the world war.”

Quenser felt the contents of his stomach rising.

This could not be mere coincidence. Had Wraith and the others named their group after seeing the amulet that had so devastated Quenser?

But at this point, a more fundamental question occurred to him.

Where were they?

It looked like a dirt and mud airfield forcibly built in a vineyard. Some Capitalist Corporations Zig-27 fighters were stopped alongside the runway with low pressure tires installed. There were also a few Legitimacy Kingdom S/G-31 delta wing fighters. The Ice Squadron and Burning Squadron insignia on their wings had the same compass needle pattern painted next to them.

The place appeared to be mostly made from the 37th Mobile Maintenance Battalion’s infrastructure, but it may have been more than that. The Legitimacy Kingdom’s Frolaytia Capistrano and the Information Alliance’s Lendy Farolito were viewing the same tablet and analyzing some intel. Staccato Raylong, better known by the codename of Burning Alpha, was teasing a 12-year-old pilot girl who responded with open anger. Heivia and Myonri were trading rations with the soldiers from other world powers for a taste test. Black Uniform Charlotte Zoom, the 7th Special Training Unit’s Elise Montana, and some others were discussing new rules and working out a schedule for the day to come. There were even some volunteers from the Faith Organization. Quenser caught sight of Millia Newburg, the intelligence agent who could go undercover anywhere, Sarasa Gleamshifter and more of the Valkyries who handled public morals and executions for the Faith Organization police, and Putana Highball who had once been a Faith Organization Pilot Elite.

The Legitimacy Kingdom, Capitalist Corporations, Information Alliance, and Faith Organization were all present.

Except those categories no longer existed here. These were the people who were sick of the world war after seeing all the bloodshed and chaos in Rome and Paris.

Together By Chance.

They had only happened to be in the same place at the same time, but that was enough. People who never should have had anything in common had gathered together and agreed to work toward a single goal.

Some of them were more than just soldiers. There were the triplet Martini Series genius girls and several Pilot Elites like Catherine and Putana. Prisoners with a criminal past like Azureyfear and Louisiana were also present. Those geniuses were a step away from being entirely mad, but their opinions were being gathered by Claire Whist, an Object designer wearing a lab coat over a bikini.

The eyepatched maid was Karen who usually served the Winchell family. Sogia, Sanya, and the rest of the infamous Unicorns were protecting the daughter of the Vanderbilt family and Princess Staivia. Those two would be more useful when it came to international law and political power than in actual combat.

And to top it all off, Quenser heard the sound of a cloth being pulled away. The old maintenance lady had removed a hard painter’s mask from her mouth. The Baby Magnum and the Rush now had the same compass needle pattern painted large alongside their unit insignia.

“We barely have more than two mobile maintenance battalions’ worth of personnel and equipment and just the two Objects. That means we have a unit of around 2000,” calmly stated Wraith. “But that isn’t near enough to seriously challenge the Information Alliance’s Manhattan 000 and the rest of those intent on continuing this world war. We need as many people as we can possibly get – every last one counts. So help us, Quenser. We need your daring and cunning here.”

The boy looked down at his hands.

They were weak and still covered in a rusty-smelling liquid. He had almost certainly sent that boy’s mother to the depths of hell and the boy would feel like the same had happened to him. It had been one-on-one, so Quenser couldn’t blame anyone else. If he simply trusted in being a hero and continued on as before, that would happen again. So what could he trust in now? He would fight to stop this shitty world war. Tear-jerking stories of heroism were fine, but how was he supposed to find something that let him really believe in them again!?

“Quenser, what did you see in that war? What did you do in it?”

“…”

“Can’t bring yourself to answer, huh? …Neither can any of us. We all made serious mistakes in this world war and then didn’t even have the decency to die for it. It’s the pure and the good who die first in this hopeless world, so if we want to save anyone, we have to do the wrong thing. And if we don’t do anything to change that, it will only get worse. We’ve seen too much of it already. We don’t have room for even a drop more.”

So they would wipe everything clean.

They would stop hanging their heads and taking it. They would fight in order to atone for their sins and look to the future once more.

They would start over from where they were.

None of them could say when it would be, but one day they would reclaim a world where everyone could trust in heroism and live happy lives.

So they couldn’t let this world war manipulate them any longer.

No matter what.

[[Image:HO_v20_BW5.png|thumb]]

“Wraith.”

“Yes?”

“Hand me that spray paint.”

They had to end this colossal mistake as soon as possible.

With the sound of spraying gas, Quenser added on to the unit insignia on his shoulder. He drew a long cross, a diagonal line connecting to the top to the right, and another diagonal line connecting the left to the bottom. He was not rejecting the Legitimacy Kingdom. The cross was situated on the insignia’s upper left, showing that he would respect his and everyone else’s birthplaces while they looked to a shared vision of the future.

Together By Chance. Maybe he didn’t have the right to bear that signal while covered in so much blood.

(But…)

Everything seemed to come into focus for Quenser Barbotage.

He could see something clearly now.

(But if I can stop this, I have to do it.)

“Where are we starting?”

Wraith Martini Vermouthspray smiled at his question.

The fact that she had invited him here meant she had given him more trust than he felt he deserved. She had trusted he could grit his teeth and get back on his feet no matter how badly he had been beaten.

“This world war began with the destruction of the Faith Organization home country of Rome,” began Wraith. “In a true display of ‘courage’, those chickens in the Faith Organization proved they were more afraid of being the only losers than they were interested in pursuing the truth, so they lashed out, blamed the Legitimacy Kingdom, and launched a misguided reprisal. But we’ll never reach the people who are truly responsible if we waste our time on them.”

“But Bad Garage are already gone. We defeated them.”

“Are you suggesting resentful Bad Garage arrived at their environmental destruction by Objects theory all on their own?”

“…”

Quenser had a feeling they hadn’t.

They had pursued the research paper written by 9-year-old Elina Silverbullet in the Tunguska District in order to lend more credence to their theory. That meant they had not been confident enough in their own research.

“Someone fed them that knowledge in the first place.” Wraith slapped a stack of papers against Quenser’s chest. “We discovered this in Bad Garage’s hideout. Or more accurately, we acquired it by having a computer reconstruct the fragmentary text on the burnt remains left in their fireplace. They abandoned that place well before meeting Elina. The real villain sent them a few research papers while also fanning the flames of their emotions. The terrorists of every era are always sadly reliant on their backers. The information being fed to Bad Garage was cherrypicked to manipulate them. A clever move by the villain, I must say.”

“Who was it?” cautiously asked Quenser.

If they screwed this up and attacked the wrong person, they would never get a second chance at it.

“Who was smirking in the shadows while masterminding an attack on Rome, starting a world war, and sending the world straight to hell?”

“We already have that answer. It was right there in the documents their fireplace failed to burn properly.”
Wraith’s answer was a short one.

“The Island Nation.”

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