I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

"How the hell did things get this bad while I was gone, damn it?"

"Didn't you hear what happened in Boston? We nearly died there."

"Alright, alright, I get it. You want something to eat?"

"...Something sweet."

Central Park HQ, early August. Overcast skies.

Thick raindrops continuously pelted the rooftops of buildings scattered throughout Central Park. Most of the buildings were hastily constructed makeshift ones, and the majority of workers were busy fixing leaks and repairs in the pouring rain.

Whenever it rained, HQ was always in a bit of a bind. Most of the structures were hastily built during the Omega Virus crisis.

Moreover, it hadn’t been long since they installed a proper drainage system, and because the park had been converted into the HQ, most of the ground was still muddy soil.

However, despite all the difficulties, it was oddly picturesque in a way.

The sound of raindrops, often referred to as white noise, made a calming sound as it hit the roof above the break room where Rapland and Captain Parkwson were.

Even though she had survived and received significant mental care from the Dagger Team, the anger and gunfire exposure from hundreds of enemies was not something easily shrugged off.

Captain Parkwson was working hard to care for Rapland’s now-weakening mental state, albeit unintentionally.

"Ah—come on."

"...How stupid do you think I am!?"

"Quit whining and just eat something, damn it."

Rustle.

It wasn’t the standard military rations, but instead, a rare chocolate bar salvaged from a nearly emptied grocery store.

Rapland reluctantly accepted the chocolate bar after struggling to maintain her independence, eventually giving in. It wasn’t the first time, and the mutants had always struggled with food.

Though it was embarrassing, there was nothing she could do but blush and eat the treat.

"Anyway, good job. I hear the alliance forces have finally set foot in America. You made it back somehow. And you still decided to show up in front of me... guess you’ve made up your mind."

"...Yeah, well, I couldn’t exactly back out after saying I’d do it."

"Right, just as you said... some things, you just have to do. That’s how it works."@@novelbin@@

Silence.

But Captain Parkwson, not really concerned, took out a brush. Unbeknownst to Rapland, it was a large dog brush he had received from Laurentina.

She buried her face deep in the pillow, trying to hide her expression, but as always, the wagging tail betrayed her emotions.

As the brush made contact with her well-groomed fur, it made a soft sound as the fur was smoothed. The plush feeling indicated Rapland took good care of herself.

Or perhaps, she had been regularly brushed by the Dagger Team.

"You sure do take good care of yourself."

"...Well, there are people who care about my tail."

"It's not a body part most people have, huh? But I like it. I’ve always been fond of animals... Hey, stop moving your tail while I’m brushing it."

"..."

She didn’t respond, but Captain Parkwson noticed her ears turning red.

No one in the room was oblivious to the meaning of that. He, too, was not unaware. Captain Parkwson wasn’t someone lacking in social awareness. But as always, there were situations where the subtle atmosphere in the room was difficult to navigate.

The main reason was that Rapland had been a man until recently.

'It’s hard to not care about that, but...'

But it wasn’t something that weighed on him heavily.

The reason was simple. Captain Parkwson didn’t know what Rapland’s past was like, or specifically, what she looked like before. Of course, there might be a way to find out, but...

It was almost impossible now. Aside from military networks or a few still-functioning servers, most networks had sunk into the abyss, including the prisoner list from Riker Island.

It would probably be difficult to recover it, and by the time the infrastructure was restored, the storage devices would likely have decayed.

Whether Rapland knew or not, she glanced to the side.

She then opened her mouth.

"...I know this might sound strange, but... can I ask something?"

"Why are you worrying about it now?"

"...Isn’t it a bit awkward? The fact that I was originally a man..."

"Now, really?"

Slap!

Captain Parkwson slapped Rapland’s back with his palm, laughing. He couldn’t help it. The fact that they had both thought of the same thing during a brief moment of silence was too funny.

There was only one thing to say.

"I don’t know what you looked like before. Your mugshot is probably gone... not because of any amnesty, but because of the physical decay of the storage devices."

"Physical decay...?"

"Those hard drives containing your past information are probably going to rust away with time. You think we’ll have the resources to invest in server repairs or network rebuilding?"

"..."

"And..."

Swish, swish.

Only the sound of brushing filled the quiet room.

"You’re a good person. You always whine before starting something, but that’s actually the typical response from most people... You always try to improve, so I respect that."

"...It’s not that grand."

"Not everything has to have a grand reason. But even without grand reasons, you can still do meaningful things..."

Swish, swish.

But this time, it wasn’t the sound of brushing. It was Captain Parkwson petting Rapland’s head. Normally, there wouldn’t have been much of an age gap between them, but it didn’t matter.

Rapland accepted the gesture. She had learned a lot and realized she could trust this person... once again confirming that her choice wasn’t wrong.

And then—

"...I’ve talked too much, but I’m not going to care about who you were anymore. In a world where even surviving is hard, thinking about such things is too harsh, don’t you think?"

"..."

"You may find it hard to be honest with your emotions, but it’s not unnatural. There have been plenty of things happening that science can’t explain."

"Well, I guess so..."

"And besides... although she’s not here anymore, I had a mutant squad leader once. And your senior was an anaconda. Do you think it’s too late to ask if it bothers me to see you like this?"

Rapland didn’t respond to that.

She just buried her face deeper into the pillow, but Captain Parkwson knew what it meant. The wolf tail subtly covering his hand was an added bonus.

After what felt like an eternity, Rapland opened her mouth.

"...Do you have any allergies to fur?"

"How long have we been hanging around, and you’re asking me that now?"

Silence again.

In the room, only the sound of brushing could be heard, like white noise. But Captain Parkwson, watching it, smiled faintly.

'...If anything happens with this little pup, I’ll just end up playing the role of operations officer.'

Maybe it wasn’t the right time to prepare to become an operator, but the world was still brutally unforgiving, and the great war was approaching.

No one could guarantee that any wish would come true, and that hope melted away with the countless raindrops.

"The 7th Fleet lost about 15% of its strength, but with the help of the 15th Submarine Squadron, they sank two Borei-class submarines and one Yasen-class in the Bering Strait."

"The Cyber Command and Virginia Naval Base really pulled something off. No, maybe more than that... I wonder if the enemy sailors who were sunk in the Bering Strait know that this all started with Snowball rolling in from New Haven."

"Well, we can’t ask the ones who died, can we? Just hope they understand."

"Haha."

Central Park HQ and the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.

Shortly after the president left Central Park for strategic command and national governance, and not long after the Dagger Team scrambled out of Boston,

The world was burning.

Due to countless naval battles and the complete collapse of separate maintenance efforts, the underwater cables that were abandoned rendered large-scale data transmission impossible, yet some things still happened.

The Sword Team successfully captured two enemy strategic submarines near New Haven and headed straight for the Virginia Naval Base. Meanwhile, top experts in the U.S. military were meticulously analyzing enemy weaponry, down to millimeter-level detail.

Among the most important findings were highly classified data on Russian and Chinese nuclear missile launch codes, military satellites, communications with other submarines, and much more.

The software secrets were the most critical, but the hardware secrets were the submarines themselves.

"The hydrodynamic design of the submarines, sound-absorbing materials, vibration-absorbing mounts, decoys, and... even the secret screw data. Thanks to that, we can now track enemy nuclear subs as easily as looking at our palms."

"With cavitation suppression devices, screw shapes, and screw control software... once we know the output and noise levels at specific depths, nuclear submarines are no longer a match."

The disaster of revealing top-secret data. What happens when that falls into the hands of our forces on the front lines.

Just a few days ago, the 7th Fleet’s victory was proof of that.

The disappearance of China’s navy was one thing, but the ongoing battle between Russia’s Pacific Fleet nuclear subs and the U.S. carrier battle groups.

However, by that point, we had already gathered the submerged shipping routes and ocean current data used by Russian submarines in the Bering Strait, and the screw shapes of the latest nuclear subs were known.

For the Allies, this was beyond a nightmare.

"If those bastards screw up a few more times, it’d be nice, but I guess we can’t expect that. What a shame."

"The submarines were captured, but no actions were taken, and that’s how we ended up with this mess. At least this time, we can call it a screw-up."

"That seems reasonable."

It was essentially the start of World War III.

Yet, even though it seemed like the U.S. was winning effortlessly, that was to be expected. The U.S. Navy had the power to dominate the world even without collecting data, but the fact that they weren’t able to do so was already a monumental issue.

And the U.S. still had numerous headaches outside of the Allied forces.

"Houston, San Antonio, and Corpus Christi, as well as cities near Mexico, are experiencing increasing chaos."

"El Paso... We don’t need to ask. The 1st Armored Division is stationed there, so it’s fine. Texas is in chaos because of illegal immigrants crossing over from Mexico."

"Urban warfare is already breaking out in various places."

"It’s Texas, after all. A Republican stronghold where gun control is the loosest. If cartel members are getting in... No, never mind. It’s better than the situation in the northeastern U.S."

As it was said,

The first to land would be the airborne forces, but once the Russian and Chinese ground forces came in, New York, New Jersey, Virginia, and Florida would be engulfed in flames.

And the enemy wasn’t stupid either—they were carefully hiding their landing zones and invasion preparations until the final moment.

The U.S. military command, sipping coffee like water, was figuring out what had to be done and how to tackle it, while trying to piece together the fractured military networks to issue commands. But no matter what, the work kept piling up.

Talk of the Icarus Gear was inevitable.

"Can’t we get one of those watches used by the field operators?"

"Are you serious? Do you know how much those guys have been through with that gear?"

"That’s true..."

Icarus Gear was distributed and strictly stored across the country, and to be precise, the Dagger Team wasn’t the only task force currently active in the U.S.

However, their achievements were unmatched.

To put it bluntly, the situation in the western U.S. was much worse than that of the Dagger Team operating in the northeastern U.S. Cities like San Francisco, San Diego, Los Angeles, San Jose, and Sacramento were in terrible condition.

More specifically, they didn’t have the capability that the Dagger Team had.

"Wouldn’t it be nice if there were two Dagger Teams? I hear Chinatown in San Francisco is a complete mess."

"I’ve heard the story. What happened?"

"Some human rights activists were clashing with anti-government immigrants and African Americans, and Icarus operators had to intervene. It’s chaos."

"Even if it was the Dagger Team, I don’t think there’s a perfect solution to that, right?"

"Not at all. Just kill them all, and it’s over."

"...Can we do that?"

"They’re the only task force that’s been given an unlimited kill license by the president."

Racial, religious, and ethical issues, along with a variety of social problems that emerged from the Omega Virus crisis.

But only the Dagger Team had succeeded in clearing everything away.

In particular, one mission where they eliminated 7,000 enemies in the Bronx and subdued one of the largest mafia organizations, the Genovese family, was still a topic of debate within HQ.

But one thing was certain.

"We need people who can work without getting caught up in any moral or ethical ideals. I don’t know why so many people don’t understand that."

"No matter how much those people complain, it won’t change the important things. And most of those people have never even watched the operation footage. Do you know that Central Park HQ used about a thousand tons of white phosphorus and 10kt nuclear weapons in just three months?"

"...I wouldn’t lie about that."

"Maybe San Francisco needed to be that way, too."

Someone didn’t respond to that, but it was clear what the answer was.

In a time when knowledge and intellect had regressed by over a century, there was only one way to teach barbarians about reason and civility.

A month before the flames started rising in the northeastern U.S., America was still in chaos.