Unsong Bird

Lying in his bed, Jackal had woken up early—or rather, his body refused to sleep. It couldn't be later than 3 am. and the tents weren't warm. If he focused, he could faintly hear the snow landing on the roof.

"I need some fresh air. I feel sick," he thought.

Pulling the curtains aside, he stepped outside. In the distance, he could see the massive battleships being loaded. There were always people awake in a military base, it seemed.

The ocean hadn't frozen—or rather, it never really did, even in the dead of winter. Apparently, the place they were heading to was even colder, covered in snow for most of the year.

"I'm scared... but somehow, being around others in the same situation lessens the burden," he murmured.

He couldn't help but think that in three months' time, there was a chance everyone around him would be dead, their bodies forever lost to time in a frozen wasteland.

"Shit... I feel it coming." His eyes locked onto the ground.

A few seconds later, he coughed up a decent amount of blood. It wasn't anything new to Jackal. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. He'd been told it was due to an old neck injury from when he was little. It caused him to throw up blood at random, and since he could never control or reproduce the occurrence, the doctors he had visited were never able to figure out the cause.

The scene was always a bit drastic—blood dripping from his mouth, pooling on the ground beneath him. Jackal glanced around, searching for a water source. In the distance, he spotted a small lake.

"Perfect," he thought.

After rinsing away most of the blood, he finally took a moment to notice how beautiful the water was. The moon's reflection shimmered across its surface, perfectly clear.

"You're bleeding," a faint voice remarked.

Jackal stumbled back a few feet, nearly falling into the water.

Beside him stood a pale, white-haired girl. Her red eyes illuminated her face. Not getting a answer right away she shifted slighty.

"Why are you out this late?" she asked.

Jackal, finally composing himself, registered her question. How do I even answer that? I'm sick? I don't know? I'm not tired? But none of those answers left his mouth.

Instead, he said, "Do you also think the moon is beautiful?"

The unexpected response didn't seem to faze her. Her eyes lingered on Jackal for a moment before shifting to the water's surface.

"Yes, it is quite beautiful."

Jackal's thoughts drifted. Something had been bothering him ever since he enlisted. He knew why he was here—because he had no choice. But why would someone like her enlist? Why would anyone willingly sign up for this?

Maybe it was because he felt lost. Like he always did—walking an unclear path, never knowing where he was headed.

Looking up at the moon, he finally asked,

"Why did you enlist in the army?"

There were a few seconds of silence after his question.

Then, she smiled faintly.

"Because I want to get stronger."

Her response felt... off. There were other ways to become stronger. Why the army? Why put yourself in such danger? Or maybe there was something he hadn't grasped yet.

"Why the army?" he asked. "Is there a reason it couldn't have been anything else?"

"Because I need power fast. I believe that if you're exposed to danger, you naturally adapt and grow."

She needs power... but how far is she willing to go for it? It seemed like a waste to seek strength only to die on the battlefield before ever obtaining it. There had to be another reason.

Jackal exhaled, his breath misting in the cold air.

"What about your family? Even though you're a vampire, you must have people you care about." His tone was cold.

She shifted her gaze from the bright moon to Jackal, locking eyes with him.

"That's one of the reasons I need power. If I don't, I might never be able to see my family again."

She continued,

"The way you're asking these questions... do you even know why you're here?"

It was true. Everyone around him had a reason—money, family, or something else that drove them forward. But why am I here?

In the moment, it felt like the only choice... Because I didn't want to die? Would I have died?

"I guess I'll find out soon enough," he muttered weakly.

Her crimson eyes studied him from head to toe before she spoke again, her tone flat.

"I thought you might have been different too."

Jackal frowned. "What do you mean?"

Her gaze snapped back to him.

"The girl you came with—Lura. She was awakened after all. And the other girl, a demon." She paused, locking eyes with him.

"So I thought there might have been a chance you were hiding something too."

There was a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"So, you thought I might be hiding something just because I arrived with those two?"

"That was my original thought process, yes."

The revelation was surprising. Lura was awakened? Back in the car, it never even crossed his mind. But people... people are different. They choose their own paths.

"My path... I'm walking my own path too," he thought.

"Hiding something? No, I'm just a normal human. I might be here to figure out whether I have to die or not, you could say."

"You're here to figure out if you have to die?"

"That's why I'm here," he muttered. "I should head back before the rest wake up."

Jackal had barely taken a few steps before she spoke again.

"I don't remember—what's your name?"

He hesitated for a second.

"My name, it's Ja—..." He paused, then gave a faint smirk. "You can just call me Bird. I'll probably be long dead before you ever need to use it anyway."

***

Jackal returned to Squad 96's camp. Somehow, it felt a little better than when he had woken up. He sat down next to the extinguished campfire, watching the snowfall. Even though they were all marching off to war, the snow made everything look strangely beautiful.

Before long, sounds came from the tents as everyone began waking up for the big day. The first one out, besides Jackal, was the brawler introduced the day before.

"Good morning, Nevire."

Nevire looked sleep-deprived but quickly took a seat next to him, eating from a bowl of what seemed to be breakfast.

"How you doing, rookie? Hopefully, you're adapting well?" he mumbled with his mouth full.

"I'm doing alright. Just gotta get used to it, I guess."

Nevire set his bowl down and looked at Jackal.

"I actually wanted to talk to you for a bit. You're new, and from what I've observed, you don't really know your way around."

Jackal had expected this conversation to happen sooner or later. If anything, what worried him the most was how unprepared he was—he still hadn't received a weapon or any gear.

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"I'm sure you've got a lot of questions—what weapons you'll fight with, our gear, teamwork training. We'll go over all that once we reach the mainland. But there's one crucial piece of information you need to know."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"When we board the battleship, it'll take about eleven days of straight sailing before we reach the mainland. We'll be sharing the ship with a lot of other squads, including sergeants and higher-ups. You might already be aware of racial hierarchy, so here's my advice—keep your head down and don't piss anyone off. That includes elves, other races, and even human soldiers with higher standing. As of now, we're the lowest of the low. Just bite your tongue and stay quiet. We don't want anyone dying before we even reach the battlefield."

Jackal exhaled, processing the warning.

"So there's even a hierarchy within the army? I guess that's not too far-fetched..."

"But hey, you seem like a reasonable guy. I'm sure you won't cause much trouble. Still, I remember a guy in our squad two years ago who pissed off a sergeant… He would've been dead if Tsubasa hadn't intervened."

Nevire slapped Jackal on the back a couple of times, trying to lighten the mood after the serious conversation.

"You all seem to trust Tsubasa a lot. Is he really that strong?"

Nevire glanced around as if checking whether anyone was listening, then leaned in slightly.

"He is. That's why so many Awakened and strong soldiers stick around in this squad."

"So even the normal humans in Squad 96 are stronger than average?"

The big brawler studied Jackal for a moment before letting out a small laugh.

"You really don't know anything about Squad 96, huh? We're actually pretty infamous among army squads. And yeah, even normal humans can be strong. Let me tell you—the second strongest guy in this squad is unblessed."

After a while, the camp grew busy. Squad 96 suddenly became lively—soldiers ran back and forth, shouting orders, and, strangely enough, burying objects in the ground near their tents.

Apparently, it was a tradition among soldiers to leave behind something they cared about—a personal belonging buried in the dirt, waiting for their return. They believed it was a matter of fate if they survived, they'd come back to retrieve it.

A sudden voice rang through the camp, cutting through the noise and making everyone stop in their tracks.

"Everyone, gather up! There's one final thing we need to do before boarding."

Tsubasa's voice was firm, his authority unquestioned.

Before long, the entire Squad 96 was seated around the large campfire. For the first time, Jackal could clearly see how many soldiers there truly were. The large tents had been misleading—he had expected more. From a rough estimate, about 125 soldiers were present.

"Everyone, today is the day. I'm proud to be leading this squad into battle, and I expect great things from each of you. I truly believe we all have a real chance of making it back alive."

His words carried weight, and they seemed to ignite something in the soldiers. A chant rippled through the squad.

"This will be my third expedition to the Northern Mainland, and I'm still standing. Not only that, but 40 soldiers from my second expedition, two years ago, are still here with me. We've fought, survived, and grown stronger—and here we stand again.

He paused, letting the words settle before continuing.

"I have one final request before we depart. Many squads choose not to do this, but I ask that you allow a seal tattoo to be burned into your skin before we leave. Before you start questioning it, let me explain."

"In the North, there are creatures called Neck Worms. They thrive on living hosts, able to enter through small wounds—or sometimes even while you sleep. This seal is a precaution, a safeguard to give you the best fighting chance. If you look at the 40 soldiers from my last expedition, and even myself, you'll see we already bear this mark."

Tsubasa stepped toward a burning pit where an iron marker rested, glowing red-hot. The symbol—a circle with the number "96" etched in the center—radiated heat. The gathered soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, uncertainty clear in their eyes.

Then, Nevire stepped forward.

"I know you're unsure," he said, his voice steady. "The pain will be unbearable at first, and the burn will ache for days. But this mark—it's essential."

His gaze swept across the hesitant soldiers.

"Do you know the leading cause of death outside of combat? It's not wounds. It's not exhaustion. It's not even ambushes by Nectures. It's infection. Neck Worms. They burrow into you before you even realize it, draining you until there's nothing left. In an unforgiving place like the Northern Mainland, one moment you're standing, and the next—you're dead."

A heavy silence settled over the group. Slowly, one by one, soldiers stepped forward. The air filled with the sharp scent of scorched flesh and agonized screams. Some chose to have the mark burned into their arms, others on their backs or stomachs. As the first ones finished, the fresh brands glowed an angry red—an uneven circle with the number "96" seared into their skin.

Jackal's turn was coming.

He wasn't sure what to expect. By now, his instincts should have screamed at him to run, to slip away before it was too late. But he just stood there, waiting.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, kid. This is for your own safety," Kenneth said in a calm, reassuring tone. "I'd recommend getting it on the neck. Either side works."

Jackal hesitated. "Why the neck? Wouldn't that hurt more than the arm or back?"

Kenneth let out a chuckle. "Well, unless you've got massive arms, the mark won't fit there properly. And as for the back… had a friend who got his there. Spent eight days nearly losing his mind from the itch—couldn't even reach it."

Jackal sighed. "So, what you're saying is… never mind. Thanks for the advice."

"Next up—Bird," Tsubasa called out.

Nevire shot him a sharp elbow to the side.

"I meant Jackal," Tsubasa corrected with a cough.

Jackal stepped forward, his gaze locked onto the glowing iron brand. This was it. A few more seconds, and the mark would be burned into him.

"Where do you want it?" Tsubasa asked.

Jackal swallowed. "The neck."

Tsubasa didn't even flinch at the choice, as if it was completely ordinary. "Left or right side?"

"Left, I guess."

Kneeling down, Jackal felt two soldiers grip his arms, holding him firmly in place—ensuring he wouldn't instinctively flinch or pull away.

Tsubasa raised the iron.

"Brace yourself."

In an instant, all his worries became real.

The searing heat bit into his skin, burrowing deep like it was trying to break him down. The pain was unbearable—white-hot, raw, metal right to the skin.

"AAGHHH—!"

Jackal's scream tore through the air. His vision blurred, spots dancing before his eyes. He didn't struggle, didn't even try to resist. His body was too overwhelmed to move, barely clinging to consciousness. It felt like an eternity.

Then—finally—it was over.

The iron lifted, and his body nearly gave out. His knees buckled, exhaustion threatening to pull him under. The only thing keeping him from crumpling to the ground were the two soldiers gripping his arms.

One of them hoisted him onto his shoulder, carrying him over to a bench before splashing cold water over his face.

His vision slowly came back and he gasped for breath. Blood dripping from his lips where he had bitten down. Just as he had regained his vision his body gave out and he fell asleep out of pure exhaustion.

About an hour later, Jackal was shaken awake by Kenneth.

"Jackal, we're about to depart. You need to get up."

tired, Jackal instinctively reached for his neck—only to feel the sharp sting of burned flesh. It wasn't a dream.

"Give me a hand," he muttered.

Kenneth pulled him to his feet. Snowflakes had settled in Jackal's white hair while he slept, melting into icy streaks against his skin. He brushed them off, his movements sluggish.

The squad was already on the move, following Tsubasa through the military camp toward the docks. The air buzzed with activity—soldiers shouting, machinery humming, crates being loaded. Then, as they neared the water, the battleship came into view.

It was massive.

From a distance, it had seemed large, but up close, it was colossal—a steel titan resting on the waves.

Jackal stole one last glance back at the shore.

For a fleeting moment, he imagined someone standing there, waving at him.