A/N: I decided to skip the short story between chapter 6 and 7, since its original purpose was to show Karl's feelings regarding the Incident, which was already done in previous chapters.

On another note, this will be the final part of the Italica Arc. Beware for more references to "Brothers in Arms: Hell's Highway", which some may note for now, I may have been playing while originally writing this fanfic in Spanish.

Disclaimer: "GATE: thus, the JSDF fought there!" and "Girls und Panzer" do not belong to me, all credit to their respective authors/owners. This is merely a fan-made project that seeks no monetary gain or compensation.

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Chapter 7
A Past to Forget

Kaliningrad Oblast
14 months ago

Karl lowered his binoculars, turning his head slightly to see the Brandenburg put the rescued prisoners into ambulance trucks and half-tracks. His gaze went to the opposite side, observing the large number of armoured vehicles and soldiers preparing for the upcoming assault. In a corner of his vision, he noticed Edward Fehring, commander of the panzer platoon in his kampfgruppe, nodding to him. He turned to his radio operator.

"Everything's ready?"

"Jawohl. Hauptmanns Ditch and Mauser are waiting. Major Bittrich already gave the go ahead, this time confirmed by the Generalstabs."

'Really, he's going to get us all killed with his impatience,' Karl thought to himself.

"Good." He looked around once more: his men were still in position, and the ambulances with the rescues were already a good distance away. Hausser's recon units were certain to notice any Russian reinforcement, and Weiss was waiting in reserve to have his pioneers blow up any enemy stronghold. All around his men, the main troops of the academy were already in position, waiting for his units' strike.

It was now or never. Taking the radio to his neck and making sure it was connected to the main network, he took a deep breath before speaking:

"Kampfgruppe Schmidt: Angriff!"

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XXXXXXXXX

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Italica

The Nishizumis' eyes shot wide open at the Unterfeldwebel's words, their jaws dropped enough for the Germans to notice all their teeth in a single glance, something they didn't thought possible. After a few seconds of processing the information, Miho's eyes began to water down into small tears, as she took her hands to her mouth and stood up abruptly. Fortunately for the group, no one else in the bar noticed her movement. Maho, for her part, managed to close her mouth, yet her eyes betrayed the fact that she could barely believe what she had been told.

After several minutes which the two Germans waited patiently, the two sisters snapped out of their stupor and resumed their conversation, in a much more awkward status than before.

"... How?" Maho asked in a low voice, her sister still too shocked to speak.

"That's what we want to know," Roth replied, sighing. "Info is locked tight for most people and academies are sworn to secrecy, so our hope to know is to ask those from our academy directly involved. It's way harder than it looks, though: between the dead, discharged by wounds and those who left either forcefully or on their own after the fact, plus those that have graduated since then, the number who meets the criteria is not really large."

"That aside," continued Hans, rolling his eyes. "Me and Peter aside, our squad is full of first years, so obviously they know nothing even if they were trained by survivors to not care much about the killing of Saderans."

"What about your former unit?" Maho pressed but was met with both Germans shaking their heads.

"We were part of Hausser's company back then, during the Incident. Hausser was furious with us for not staying with our unit after the ambush instead of going on our own for the Russian base, something that wasn't helped with the almost annihilation of the first battalion the next day," Roth explained, his voice grim as he spoke. "Hausser branded us as deserters and kicked us out as soon as she got recon's command. Fleischer doesn't dare to oppose her, not that he could if he tried. Hausser is better than him in every aspect except rank. We only got into the panzergrenadiers because they were lacking trained personnel."

"So, there you have it," concluded Hans. "Our former unit is in tatters and spites us, our current unit knows nothing, and he don't know anyone else who was at the incident that had a high enough position to know what the hell was going during the Incident."

"That, until we remembered herr Hauptmann from the time of our rescue. Now we finally have a lead, we only need to follow it. Yet Schmidt looks as adamant as the rest to not spill the beans, and hell will freeze before the Russians tell us something trustworthy if anything at all."

Hans was about to add something, but he noted that the place was closing and urged the group outside. With nowhere else to go, Roth led them back to the Recon Team temporary dorms. However, before they could go inside, they were intercepted by a patrol. The Germans recognized the soldiers: the 1st Panzergrenadier company.

Hauptmann Schmidt's troops.

"Roth and Dietrich, come with us. Orders of the Hauptmann." The patrol leader then turned to the Japanese sisters. "You may come if you so wish."

None made any complaint: even if they wanted to refuse, they were unarmed, and it was highly probable the patrol would simply force them to. So, they went ahead and went to the HQ, praying that whatever reason Schmidt had to call for them, it wasn't serious.

The patrol led them through the corridors of the guarded mansion, leaving them in front of the entrance to Schmidt's temporary office. With a silent nod they left, leaving the group to face the door. Looking at the rest for reassurance, Roth gulped and took the handle, finally going in.

A heavy stench of alcohol greeted them, or at least strong enough that they could notice is quickly. Sitting behind his desk stood Schmidt, hand on his forehead and a gaze cold enough to freeze the very same flame dragon they fought off not a day ago. Fehring, his security detail chief, was nowhere to be seen.

"Herr Hauptmann" both Germans saluted, clicking their heels. Both Nishizumis imitated them a second later.

"Spare me the formalities," groaned the officer, massaging his nose bridge. "We have a very tight time window before I black out from exhaustion and regret even attempting to tell you anything."

"What?" The group looked among themselves, clearly confused. "I thought you said you owned us nothing?"

"I do not." Schmidt went to his personal belongings and took out a small envelope, barely the size of his palm. "I just want to talk about it."

"Then why act like that on the hallway and outside?"

"Are you drunk or just dumb?" Roth's face went awry in anger but forced himself calm the next second. "We were surrounded by dozens of personnel of the academy, and even more, of the 1st Panzergrenedadier Company. Half of those men lived the Incident and the other half learned first-hand from them."

Roth frowned, Hans blushed a bit in embarrassment, and both sisters raised an eyebrow in realization, this information new to them.

"I... sorry for that, Herr Hauptmann."

"As long as you understand..."

"Where's Oberleutnant Fehring, by the way? She's usually with you..."

"She became downright unbearable after you fuckers mentioned the Incident. Me and Dussler had to force half a bottle of hard liquor from the late Count Formal's collection down her throat before exhaustion kicked in and did the rest. That's where the stench comes from, by the way." Schmidt rolled his eyes, eyeing an empty bottle on the sidelines of the room. "No idea what that is, but luckily for us, since the countess can't drink because of her age, they didn't really care about us taking it."

The group stared for a few seconds while their commander shrugged, nonchalantly brushing the issue of his drunken subordinate aside.

"She's sleeping in the female dorms if you are worried. Not that you should be, mind you: she wanted to lock both of you in jail."

"I'm not that surprised to be honest..." Hans muttered. Roth took the chance to step forward and catch Schmidt's attention.

"Herr Hauptmann," he started. "We came to ask you what exactly happened in the Kaliningrad Incident over a year ago. As you know, both Hans and I were part of it until near the end, yet we are treated as outcasts by our same unit despite also suffering during the battle."

"And what are you planning to do once you learn about it?" Schmidt kept his lazy gaze over the two soldiers, eyes not faltering despite his tiredness. "Go out and yell it for all to hear? I might simply wake Fehring up and unleash her so both end up in jail either way."

"Nothing of the sort." Roth shook his head. "We simply want to learn what exactly happened in the last few days. We were part of the Incident too, even if not the worst part, and we deserve to know."

Schmidt said nothing for a few seconds, finally gesturing at some chairs on the sidelines. The group of four took one each and set them around the table, surrounding the officer.

"It's not a pretty story, but you already know that." He started, sighing. "The Incident also has a few more names, the Kaliningrad Massacre and The Last Russo-German Battle are among the most popular for dramatist and no doubt will be used in future studies of the whole thing." He pointed to the envelope in his hands, sporting a grim smile on his face. "Here I have a few photographs that may help you understand the scale of the whole thing. Which reminds me." His gaze went over to the two Japanese sisters, eyeing them with an apprehensive look. "You may want to remain outside. I will not be softening the story."

Both sisters briefly looked at each other, nodding.

"We'll stay here. Roth and Hans are out friends, and we want to know what they went through," Miho declared. Maho nodded, reaffirming her sister's statement.

"Whatever." Schmidt rolled his eyes and let out a small sigh, leaving the closed envelope on the table. "We'll go over the details later, but as a brief summary, I'll simply say this: on the last two days of the Incident, we mainly fought over two areas, one urban and one on the fields. And it was a bloodbath."

Schmidt let the weight of his words, if any, wash over the group listening. As the seconds went by and nobody move, Roth took it upon himself to once more be the one moving the conversation. Leaning slightly towards his superior, he steeled his nerves and simply asked:

"What the hell happened there?"

XXXXXXXXX

Outer perimeter, Italica

"How solid is our intel?" Asked one of the grenadiers as the group lounged silently, waiting for the half-track to arrive to its destination. "Do we really know for sure the bastards will be attacking us tonight? Sounds like a dumb move."

"We don't know for sure. That's why it's called 'recon'."

"Oh, yeah, I quite know the ramifications." The reply was accompanied by a snort. "We protect the brass by dying first. I understand, crystal clear."

"The gospel according to Saint Becker, ladies and gentlemen."

The rest of the group chuckled as the one named Becker simply rolled his eyes annoyed.

"And why are we even doing this shit in the first place? Don't we have recon units for this stuff or something?"

"If you mean Hausser's units, they're still in Alnus. If you mean the inter-academies recon teams, they're battered from two days of operations. So why not simply take one for the team instead of crying like a little bitch?" The squad's 2IC, a Gefreiter, half-explained in a mocking tone sporting a wide grin, adding a new round of chuckles to the group.

"Fuck off..." Becker manage to mutter before a single gesture of the group's Unteroffizier shut them up. The engine was turned off and the squad fanned out by the rear door of the vehicle, weapons at the ready to neutralize any possible hostile.

"Alright lads, this is simple. There's a small village on the other side of that crest, where we should be able to gather some intel on the suspected Saderan column. The brass thinks that, if they are coming, at least a party should arrive there to gather intel."

"Will we set an OP, Herr Unteroffizier?"

"Sort of. Becker, Arlet." The two grenadiers nodded, acknowledging their superior. "Take the MG and set up overwatch on that hill over there. You are the guardian angels on our rear this time, don't fuck it up." Both rolled their eyes followed by a nod, fully committed to their task. "The rest will split in two groups. One will mount overwatch on the village while the other, led by me, will infiltrate in search for clues. Any questions?"

"What about the half-track?"

"The vehicle will remain here. Be ready to jump in running in case shit hit the fan. If there aren't any more questions, get moving. Use the cover of the night to get to your positions and remember that flares are your friends. See you later guys. Good luck."

XXXXX

"I see... about twenty or thirty buildings, a mix of cabins and huts. There's also a shit ton of tents at some distance, with a few around the village itself, plus several fires. Definitely way too many men, but none carrying armour." Informed the squad's 2IC to the Unteroffizier though a short-range radio. "Most likely the imperial army, but we can't really rule out a travelling group from here, albeit quite the large one."

"Understood. We'll move inside the perimeter. Keep radio silence unless something bad happens. Remember you have Becker and Arlet covering your backs."

"Might as well offer my rear to the fuckers if that's the case..."

"Funny... now shut it. Commencing radio silence."

"Understood. Good luck."

The Unteroffizier put the radio in a pocket of his jacked and adjusted the belts of his uniform, nodding to the fireteam around him. With a silent nod for an answer, he led the group inside the village moving through the few tents established around its perimeter. One of his men wanted to search the tents, but his gut told him to keep moving to the central square. He was rewarded by the vision of a comparatively large house in the centre, displaying two Saderan imperial banners on the entrance. Smirking at the "gold mine" in his eyes, he gestured towards it and started to lead the team through the shadows of the night towards the building, taking special care to remain out of any source of light and "gently taping in the neck" at the few legionnaires who managed to somehow get in their way.

The house's guard was also gently "caressed on his neck" by a combat knife, and carefully laid down in one of the inside rooms. The house owner, the village chief, was locked in a room after being knocked out, and the military personnel found inside were either "dispatched to better life" or knocked unconscious, with a hope of carrying them back to the main city. Searching around, the Feldwebel found himself in front of a table filled with maps and notes, which he immediately started scanning as he threw them into a bag. However, that did not prevent him from noticing some of the stuff they read.

"What the hell is this...?" He muttered as he saw a hand-drawn map of Italica and the circumvent area. It appeared an operations map, including arrows and notes on the sidelines that he couldn't read. However, one thing was certain for him given his training:

'An attack plan? Did they already know that we captured the city?' The thoughts flashed through his mind. 'And what's this date? Today? Fuckers could use a civilized calendar for a change...'

However, his train of thought was interrupted by a very characteristic sound...

...the distant sound of ripping fabric.

With a quick glance at his men, the Unteroffizier turned on his radio.

"What the hell is going on?! Why did you open fire?!"

"Sir, it's Arlet and Becker's position! They started firing out of nowhere!"

"For fucks sake... don't tell me they're crazy?"

"I-I don't know, sir! But I don't think they would simply open fire because of yes... wait, what's that?"

"Gefreiter? What happened?"

"Shit, there's too many of 'em! Where did they come through?!"

"Gefreiter, report god damnit!"

"A ton of Saderans appeared on our nine! There's like a thousand of them!"

The Unteroffizier exchanged a glance with his soldiers, nodding at them.

"Fall back to the half-track and get it ready, we'll get to you in a minute."

"Please hurry!"

"Squad, double-time it to the half-track! Shot everyone on the way, don't stop moving!"

"Jawohl!"

The group grabbed the bag with the intel and dashed out of the building, caring little for the now discarded discretion and silence of their entry in favour of speed. Their sudden appearance sowed confusion among the ranks of the locals, and it took them a solid minute to start pursuing them in any shape or form, only to have their leaders be shot down by accurate gunfire by either the fleeing group or the team overseeing the village from the crest. Soon, the Unteroffizier regrouped with the Gefreiter team and pointed towards their vehicle, with another soldier shooting a flare towards the sky and allowing them to see the legionnaires following them.

There were at least a few hundreds.

"Move it, damnit! I don't know how many are there, but they're a shit ton at the least!"

"What about Arlet and Becker?!"

"We'll pick them up with the vehicle, move it!"

The driver already had the engine running when the first soldiers jumped inside, the rear machine gun keeping the more advantaged pursuers at bay with accurate burst fire. Once the last man, the Unteroffizier, jumped inside, the pointed towards the nearby hill, where another source of lighting was still spitting lights and fire.

"Grab those two and get us out of here! No one gets left behind!"

Arlet and Becker already had spent most of their ammunition when the half-track arrived, with the two having taken out their pistols and shooting between burst of the already overheated machine gun. The Unteroffizier kicked open one of the rear doors and called them to jump in.

"Grab the gun and jump in! Screw the cases!"

"Yessir!"

Becker threw the red-hot gun inside while Arlet shot another closing legionnaire, the later jumping in next followed by the former. Quickly counting all his men, the Unteroffizier shouted the order.

"Get us out of here now! Truppen, sperrfeuer!"

"Jawohl!"

The driver gave full power to the engine, making the steel-made carrier jump forwards downhill at great speed. The Saderan troops, several dozens of men short, were quickly left behind by the retreating Germans, who finally managed to catch some respite.

"Someone radio Italica. We're under attack."

XXXXXXXXXX

War Room, Italica

Just as Roth muttered those words, the door was blast open by a charging German, who quickly clicked together his heels and raised his hand in salute as he recovered, presumably from the dash to the room.

"Dussler?" Muttered Schmidt, being interrupted by the newcomer.

"Herr Hauptmann, we're under attack! A squad made contact with enemy troops to the north-east and is engaging in retreat back to their command post!"

Schmidt muttered the most loud cursing the group had ever heard from him, tiredly standing while muttering even more curses.

"Where, when, and how."

"A few clicks to the north-east, about ten minutes ago, they snatched some intel from a field HQ and were surprised by enemy infantry on their flank." Dussler informed, lowering his hand from his temple as the captain returned the salute. "They should've reached Berlin 1's HQ by now and we should have the processed intel in a few more minutes."

"How many Saderans?" Schmidt was already checking his magazines and the handgun by his hip, although notoriously slower than in previous occasions.

"We don't know, but the squad described at least a few hundred around the village plus an encampment in the distance. Best guess so far is at least a thousand."

Schmidt muttered another curse, sighing once he made sure his weapon was in working condition.

"The princess said the column is at least five thousand strong. Even if they don't know of the defection of the princess' knights, they still arrived expecting battle because of the bandits. They probably already have their deployments ready for a battle should it break out now."

"So... what should we do? Counterattack?"

"We know nothing so far, forget it. Call Boomfield here and give the signal for all troops to be in alarm except the recon teams."

"Jawohl!"

"You are dismissed."

Dussler turned around and left in a hurry, while Schmidt donned a helmet in replacement for his peaked cap. The group of Roth, Hans, and the two Nishizumi sisters stood up as well, waiting in silence as their commanding officer massaged the nose bridge.

"You should go back to your unit for the night," Schmidt finally muttered, supporting himself with the table after grabbing a canned coffee from a bag. "We don't know what we are dealing with, and while the recon teams are off the fight from exhaustion, don't count on not being called to fight later."

"Will we continue this conversation later?"

"If we're alive? Sure, I guess. I don't know, and right now, I frankly don't care." Schmidt took a long sip from his coffee as a half-asleep Boomfield entered the room, still accommodating parts of his uniform, likely woken up just a moment ago. "Now go and grab some sleep if you can. You are dismissed."

Roth and Hans took their hands to the temple with a neutral face, their eyes betraying their annoyance at the interruption. Miho and Maho, on their side, simply nodded and made a weak salute, quickly heading towards the door behind their two German teammates.

"If only we had some resemblance of an air force..." Miho hear Boomfield complain as he greeted Schmidt, who in turn shrugged nonchalantly.

"We're not Amis, so suck it up."

"Do we have anything to help?"

"Not right now, and I doubt Alnus will send us anything else," replied Schmidt, sighing. Before leaving the room, however, Miho managed to hear him mutter, "But if you get me a private line to Alnus, I may be able to pull enough strings to have Hausser involved..."

The door shut right at that moment. Miho stepped up her pace to catch up the rest of her group, her sister waiting patiently while the two Germans cleared a small way ahead in the busy hallways. The entire mansion was reactivated with febrile activity, specially from the soldiers of the 1st Panzergrenadier Company, who Miho later learned were excited to finally work under their original commander once more. But for now, as the leading officer suggested, the group would simply retreat to their dorms and try to get some hours of sleep.

Priorities were priorities, and while for Roth and Hans the story of the Incident definitely had more weight, their leaders had way more important matters in their hands.

XXXXXXXXXX

Khoakin Petrakov opened his eyes after several seconds of loud noise ringing on his ears. His eyelids felt heavy, or, at least, heavier than usual, so it wasn't solely from lack of sleep. After a while, he finally came (somewhat) to his senses and raised his torse, confusedly looking at the medieval city in chaos.

"What the hell...?"

He forced his mind to remember. He and his team (minus his sister) were enjoying some smuggled vodka after being told to rest during the afternoon, and they definitely drank way more than expected, which resulted in them ending passed out in some secondary streets of the city. Grumbling at his poor decision-making skills regarding when and where to get drunk, he got up supporting himself with the cobblestone wall of a house.

'What's going on?' He thought, slowly surveying the scene before his eyes. The city was active, that much he could deduce from a mere glance, but the question was why. 'I highly doubt the nazi cunt would order drills this late, he's as tired as I am.'

It was then when another sound joined the orchestra preventing him from sleeping. This time, it was enough for him to realize what was going on.

'Sirens?' He tuned his ear, now a bit more awoken. 'Alarm sirens. When did they... oh this can't be good.'

With a grunt at the effort, he walked slowly towards his crew and, without stopping, gave each a kick in the butt as he started shouting.

"Get up, damnit! We're under attack... and I don't want any more... huh, expulsion attempts on me!"

"W-what?" Yuri, his driver, quickly got up, yet held himself against a wall to fight off his nausea. "B-but the sun isn't even on-"

"I don't care!" Khoakin gave the last kick to his loader, Gornachov, while Mikhail, Yuri's brother and his "radio operator", puked on a corner. "We'll simply drag our sorry asses to the dorm and hope they forget we exist, ok...? We're bound to get in trouble if they discover us drunk while under attack."

"U-under attack...?" Yuri stared upwards, looking over the walls illuminated by torches and fires pits. "...fuck."

"Exactly." Khoakin cracked his neck, trying to wake up while fighting off the nausea. "Come on, we're not far off."

Despite indeed not being far off from the recon teams' dorms, as Khoakin said, the group still took a long time to arrive, mostly due to the amount of alcohol in their bodies and the exhaustion of all the events so far. Still, they managed to get there in one piece, finding Khoakin's sister, Sasha, sitting on the entrance exchanging a few words with Miho Nishizumi. The Russian Kapitán made a lazy attempt of clicking his heels and saluting, though his crew fell to the steps of the stairs without even trying, with Mikhail at least saluting from the place where he fell.

"Nishizumi... g'morning... wait, is it still night...?" He paused to fight off a wave of nausea, taking off his hand from his temple. "Still, as you can... huh, see, we're not in a state to... well, fight, so, if you'll excuse us..."

"Don't bother," Sasha interrupted, massaging her temple as the Japanese student took a couple steps back from the drunken group. "Recon teams aren't part of the fight tonight. Schmidt's orders."

"...really?" Khoakin asked three times, receiving a confirmation each time. "What would ya know... turns out the cunt can really do something good from time to time..."

And he dropped to the floor, falling asleep there. Sasha sighed again, point at the group.

"Mind helping me bring some blankets for this mess of a crew?"

"S-sure... huh, will they be fine?" Miho asked, slightly worried about the Russians.

"They've survived worse, trust me. They'll be fine."

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XXXXXXXXXX

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The Battle of Italica, of which the Italica Incident, as the encounter with the dragon was later named, was part of, ended the following day.

After constant skirmishes between the imperial army and the European students lasted past midnight, when flares started to run dangerously low and threatened the four companies outside the walls with the chance to be overrun by an enemy of unknown size. Schmidt ordered all troops remaining outside to break through Saderan lines and make a run for it towards the city, following Alnus' orders, and locked the place down. A later night assault by the imperial army failed to breach the walls, and the assailants retreated for the night back to their camps, with light skirmishes entertaining both defenders and attackers until the early morning. Once the sun came out, however, the dice was cast.

Major Hausser's 1st Aufklärung-Abteilung arrived with the first sunrays, and after a brief stop by the city in order to receive intel, the armoured battalion dedicated exclusively to reconnaissance by fire took upon itself the task to find, manoeuvre, engage, and push the Saderans out of their multiple positions and force them to converge on a single location, which happened to be the village where a German squad first took notice of the imperial attack.

Their magnitude became clearer then: in and around the village were over 5,000 men and beasts, with no wyverns or winged creatures to be spotted. The bodies scattered on the fields and walls after the constant skirmishes, the failed assault, and Hausser's manoeuvres numbered some 1,000 more, with an equal number of deserters and routed personnel. The imperial attack had been, for all purposes, and entire reinforced legion by ancient Roman standards, and was slowly and surely getting surrounded by academic troops, its legionnaires waiting for their impending doom with pride and confidence on inflicting and equal damage on their opponent.

Damage they could never inflict.

Command of the operation fell from Schmidt to Hausser in virtue of rank, something the former was way-too-happy to agree with, as it gave the exhausted Hauptmann the excuse to finally get some much-needed sleep on his body (though some said that it was also because, out of all people, Schmidt trusted Hausser the most to do the job). Hausser immediately gathered most forces, leaving a token guard mostly made from the Japanese school girls on the city, and occupied the crests and hills surrounding the village with tanks and machine guns, abusing of the motorization of her forces to take the imperials by complete surprise, most of whom were barely getting used to the superior mobility of their enemy after encountering for the first time that day.

What followed was described by many as a simple "fire 'till they're dead", as Hausser spared no mercy either to the Saderans trapped in her iron encirclement or possible civilians caught in the crossfire. The Major personally went from position to position, raising morale at the time she looked out for any soldier who felt doubts and regret at the absolute carnage she was ordering, and rotating units whose weapons were stressing too much or were victims of fatigue, be it either physical or mental.

Her work, however, was nicely complemented by the imperial soldiers, who, after understanding the degree of their technological disadvantage, used their training, discipline, and blind faith to reorganize and charge uphill towards the academic positions, using terrain and skill in a desperate attempt to get out of the kill zone and take the fight to their enemy, or at least get it in range of their own ranged weapons. Hausser's own units of the Aufklärung-Abteilung were used as a mobile reserve to counterattack Saderan parties that got way too close to the troops to her liking, which often ended with the German half-tracks annihilating the charging men.

Hausser's ruthless approach to combat, even if it paired well with the fight the Saderans were trying to conduct, was still needlessly brutal for many of the young soldiers fighting, especially when she personally ordered them to not take any prisoners or offer any chance of surrender until she allowed it. Also, while she never gave specific orders to allow it, she turned a blind eye towards acts of sadism made by the troop towards the imperials, be it either for revenge, tiredness, or irritation at the fight they were having. She conducted the operation like a director to its orchestra, and she took special care not to push anyone's buttons too much in order to keep a cohesive line all the time. As such described it a British soldier in his diary after the battle, which was recovered after his death in a later date:

"It was chaos, and absolute madness. We fired our guns the whole morning, rotating every now and then between us so we didn't go mad, although I suspect the true reason of that brief respite every now and then was to not destroy our weapons. Anything with a large cannon was ordered to load high explosive munition, while the rest, such as auto-cannons and machine guns, were told to use tracers. 'It's time for a show,' someone said, 'and we are the special effects.' I shudder thinking about the euphoria I felt back then.

We all arrived at our posts simultaneously and started firing barely a minute after. There was no time to ask for a surrender, nor I think the German girl [Hausser] was particularly worried about it.

Screw that, she never sought a surrender from them. Poor fellas never stood a chance: every time they made some sort of progress towards our lines, the German butcher [Hausser] swept them with her own unit. I think them alone racketed half a thousand kills.

I...

I remember something in that battle (well, 'battle' might be too gentle). But anyway, it was our turn manning the line, and a group of some thirty men almost reached our lines. Their leader, whatever his rank was, was blown away by cannon fire not too far away from us (poor bastard got his legs disintegrated, or so I think happened at least). Those who survived looked lost for a few moments before simply walking towards us, as if the entire carnage was nothing but a passing vision for them.

I didn't -couldn't fire at them. What for? It was clear they were surrendering. Their weapons were left back with their leader, and some even had their arms raised as they approached. But then...

[There's several spots suggest water droplets in the paper here.]

That German bitch [Hausser] simply came and killed them with her half-tracks. She didn't even cast a glance in their direction, her eyes always glued to the slaughter below.

Why? Why couldn't we simply accept them, take them in, show a bit of humanity in the massacre of our own doing? What's the difference between what we did here and what they did in Flanders?

Does every survivor of Kaliningrad think that cold-blooded killing is the answer to everything?

—Lance Corporal Keith Turner, 1st Company, Grenadier Guards."

However, not all participants were harbouring such thoughts. A German lieutenant of an armoured unit noted on his memoirs of his time in Falmart:

"Before the final part of the battle, I think I saw maybe two or three groups that managed to surrender, all outside of Hausser's overarching vigilance (or at least I think so. Same as others, I was never sure). Officers in general weren't keen on accepting surrenders, but I couldn't really grasp why at the time. I later realized that it was both a practical and ethical problem. We barely had resources for ourselves, would we condemn the prisoners to die of starvation in rotten cells of the local prison, or let them die in combat?

Moral dilemmas aside, as I think most reading this already know the outcome of the battle (and that the prisoners were transported to Alnus the following day), I also learned on the afternoon of that day of some of Hausser's orders. Quite simply, we had to show ourselves as imposing and ruthless as possible for a long time in order to break any sort of illusion the Saderans had of either beating us or running away, which is why all the troops had either HE or tracer ammo at the start of the battle, and why Hausser suddenly allowed us to take prisoners after a certain point. I myself shot down two houses with imperials between them, just a minute or so before the order to accept surrenders arrived. I think I dropped my gun immediately when I heard that, but I can't really be sure.

I heard there were five thousand men and creatures in that kessel [l.t. cauldron], and I'll be damned if I ever learned exactly how many died there. But one thing I know for certain: whatever demi-human that survived the carnage and didn't escape in time was executed. Uh-hu, I said it. E x e c u t e d. Not by me, mind you, but I saw it in person and didn't intervene, that much is true. From what I recall, all the ones doing the executions were veterans from Flanders, which might've been the reason. I don't know, I never asked. To my curiosity, the imperial survivors didn't show any emotion when their demi-human partners were killed. At the time I thought they were relieved at being spared, but later I learned it was from racism.

I managed to see the imperial commander that surrendered whatever was left of the legion, someone named Aesir, who would later become the commander of the Falmart Volunteer Legion (Editor's Note: a formation of locals fighting under the academies' command). When I saw him, the first thing I thought was 'That dude is scared shitless', and he indeed was scared, which made it even more impressive that he still had the mental fortitude to try and negotiate with Major Hausser, whom, as expected, basically told him to surrender or die.

He chose the former.

—Extract from the book "A tanker's journey in Falmart", by Oberleutnant Erik Wolf."

The battle was over by midday, when the highest imperial officer left, a Legatus Militare by the name of Aesir, surrendered two thousand legionnaires, including fifteen high and medium ranked officers, and two hundred demi-humans, who were promptly executed, with some fifteen hundred Saderans fleeing the battle, mostly before the encirclement closed. As such, the academic coalition suddenly found itself with thousands of prisoners it didn't plan for, making the departure of convoys to Alnus imperative.

The task fell to now-recovered Hauptmann Schmidt, now much more productive after resting the entire morning, as Major Hausser nonchalantly shrugged off the responsibility by staying in the field of battle until the evening. The captain was not angry, though, and was quick to resume his management duties.

"Did Alnus tell us something?" Schmidt asked, walking down the hallways of the mansion during lunchtime, as the first troops were returning from the battle against the imperials.

"Yeah, they're sending troops from that Prussian academy in Germany to have some infantry here," Boomfield nodded, passing him a paper with the message. "Two companies or so. Enough for a garrison if complemented by more troops."

"Great. Now we can send off the columns back to Alnus without worrying of not leaving anyone."

"Who's staying?"

"Two companies from Einseres Kreuz Akademie, complemented by the 2nd Japanese Brigade."

"The Jap' girls?" The question came from Fehring, who was walking behind the two with her MP40 on her hands, constantly scanning the area as her role of security chief entailed. "I doubt they'll be able to do much anyway."

"The Saderans are not launching another offensive. They don't really have the men to spare, at least according to the prisoners," Boomfield replied, getting a nod from Schmidt as support.

"Anyway," continued Schmidt, "The first convoy is taking the priority wounded back to Alnus. Did command ask for any unit or group to be sent ASAP?"

"Yeah, the girls from St. Petersburg. Their academy is asking for them back," informed Boomfield.

"Have them escort the first column together with the 1st Japanese Brigade and all special forces we have. Some Italian-Japanese unit is arriving soon, and it needs to finish its training, so they asked for all SOF we have here."

"Alright."

"Second and third columns carry the rest of the wounded in order of priority. The second will be made of all British forces and leaves later today, after the first column meets the landsers Alnus is sending. The third will have the two Panzer companies from the Panzer Akademie and all remaining Russian troops and will leave later during the evening. That's all for today."

"What about the prisoners?"

"I'll see to that tomorrow. You can go and start preparing the columns."

"Yes sir. If you'll excuse me..."

Boomfield made a lazy salute and hastened his pace, quickly leaving Schmidt and Fehring behind. The two walked a bit more before the male shrugged and raised his hand a little, winning the attention of his subordinate.

"Oberleutnant. Bring the Nishizumi sisters, Roth and Dietrich from the 7th Recon Team to the War Room. They're probably together, if not, whoever you find will search for the rest."

"Why?" The hostility in her voice was not lost to her commander, but he made no sign of addressing it.

"We were discussing something yesterday and were interrupted by the imperial attack. I want to finish that discussion now."

"If I may suggest something-"

"You may not. Go search for them if you will."

Oberleutnant Erika Fehring shot daggers through her eyes for a few brief seconds, no doubt remembering the groups' comments over the Incident the day prior and how she was forced to get drunk after the fact. Finally, however, she nodded, made a dry salute, turned her heels, and left headed for the dorms currently occupied by the recon team. Schmidt sighed loudly, massaging his hurting shoulders.

"And tomorrow I'll be back on a proper bed..." he muttered to no one in particular.

"I don't remember you suffering this much from lack of sleep, Karl," a voice replied from further down the hallway. The captain merely raised his eyes until he found the familiar sight of a fellow officer, albeit higher ranked than him.

"I've slept maybe 8 hours in the last two nights, Romy. More accurately, two hours and then the six from this morning."

"I guessed as much. You wouldn't call me all the way from Alnus just to take part in a slaughter."

"What, remembering a certain other kessel?"

A dry laugh escaped from Hausser's lips.

"Funny today, are we?"

"If I have to relive memories from it with all the officers saying I should take command from being a 'senior ranked', then so do you." Schmidt rolled his eyes, stretching his arms a little. The two officers exchanged a friendly chuckle before walking side by side down the hallway.

"So, that girl that was all but killing you earlier..."

"Oberleutnant Erika Fehring," Schmidt informed, his voice a bit lower as he put his hands on his pockets. "Edward's sister."

"The one and only, huh? So much for irony here." Hausser's hands met behind her back, hidden by her brown hair. "It's practically seeing Fehring daily. She's even the same rank and all."

"Yeah, though they only resemble appearance-wise. She couldn't match Fehring's personality if her life depended on it. Helps me to not think much about her brother."

"Is she also panzertruppe?"

"She was, now she's my head of security."

"So, also an Oberleutnant, also a Fehring, and also a tanker. Wow, someone really has a brother-complex or wanted to remind you of the past, huh?" Hausser hit him with her elbow on the side, getting rolling eyes from Schmidt.

"Like you are one to talk. I read the reports of the battle: the process was different, but you really are still stuck on that kessel from Kaliningrad, huh?" For his remark he got a harsher hit with the elbow, which made him chuckle.

"Shut up, Karl."

"Whatever, Romy."

"So, while Fehring junior goes for those two assholes..." Schmidt didn't even have to think to know who she was referring to. Roth and his underling were despised by her ever since the Incident. "Wanna get some coffee? I brought some nice grains with me from Alnus."

"Sure. Roth and the rest can wait a while, and I need the caffeine."

"A shame is not raining though," Hausser added, as the two started to make their way to the entrance where her vehicle was parked, "It would be just like back in Kaliningrad, remember?"

"We would need Weiss as well for that." Schmidt shrugged, entertaining the idea. "Where is Erich, by the way? I think he was also sent to Alnus?"

"He is. And he's quite happy remaining at the base."

"I'll ask for him to join my unit next time. He's sounds way too happy over there."

Hausser laughed, something which Schmidt copied.

"You're right. We could try to form a kampfgruppe again for some operation."

"It would be nice. All our original units are here in Falmart. But I doubt it happens, armoured recon is quite expensive to more around."

"I'll put on the request either way. Who knows, we may get a surprise."

"Let's hope for it."

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

War Room

The group of four quickly got to its feet and saluted as Schmidt entered the room with a disposable cup filled with steaming coffee in hand. He lazily returned the salute, for the confusion of the group, leaving the cup on the table.

"Evening. Had a good night?"

"As best as we could, Hauptmann Schmidt," Miho replied, herself looking much more rested compared to the day prior, albeit a bit uneasy. "B-but... well, something happened..."

"Explain." Schmidt frowned. He hasn't got any report of something wrong, so whatever happened, it shouldn't have been serious. Still, he wasn't one to not take precautions.

"W-well... the combat lasted for a long while, and..."

"Our classmates got nervous from the noise of combat, especially since is lasted for several hours," Maho communicated, carrying herself slightly better than her sister. "They are not used to such violent sounds, so they are a bit unnerved."

"Are they combat ineffective?"

"I don't know about your metrics, but they should be fine overall with a bit of peace and quiet."

Schmidt nodded.

"If they aren't affected by the columns leaving for Alnus later today, then we're good. According to the prisoners, the Empire lacks the means to launch another offensive for the next few weeks."

"That's good." Maho relaxed on her spot. Schmidt seated at the head of the table, taking a sip from his mug.

"So, as for last night–"

"A question, Herr Hauptmann."

Schmidt raised his eyes. Erika Fehring was practically staring daggers from her spot near the door, the group noted, with her submachine gun at the ready, but luckily with the safety still on.

"Yes, Oberleutnant?"

"I've heard that you met with Major Hausser on the way here. Is that the reason you arrived late?" Schmidt narrowed his eyes, likely also spotting Erika's raging from suspicion and anger. "Has she taken over command of Italica?"

"Negative." He replied sharp and briefly, taking a sip from his coffee.

"Then why take so long?"

"We were simply exchanging information about the battle and the situation in Falmart."

"Did that take so long?"

Schmidt said nothing for a while. Roth and Hans nodded at each other, ready to jump in if the situation escalated, while the Nishizumi sisters took a step back towards the wall behind them. Why was the lieutenant on edge? Was she still angry about them mentioning the Incident yesterday? Given Roth and Dietrich's presence, it was the most likely reason.

"You may ask so yourself. Major Hausser should still be with her troops on the mansion's entrance, should you wish to speak with her."

"I can do that later–"

"Then you will head over to Boomfield and aid him preparing the convoys for Alnus. The first should leave within the hour, go make sure it is ready." Fehring was almost trembling from rage, but Schmidt simply nodded, as if to reaffirm his order. "You are dismissed."

It took a few seconds, but the lieutenant finally nodded and left the room in silence. Nobody spoke a word for a while, until the quietness was interrupted by a second sip of the coffee and a heavy sight.

"Just my luck," Schmidt muttered. "She's transferring to another unit as soon as I can give the order."

"Herr Hauptmann...?"

"You can sit on the table. I think we still have a conversation pending, and I wish to finish it now."

The group nodded confused, sitting on both sides of the rectangular table.

"Is..." Hans spoke, feeling slightly awkward, "Is Oberleutnant Fehring still angry about us mentioning the Incident yesterday?"

"Sort of, I guess. Surely doesn't help that Hausser and her Aufklärung-Abteilung arrived today to aid us. She's also a veteran from the Incident, and after the clusterfuck back in command, of the higher ranked survivors."

"Are you close to the Major, Hauptmann Schmidt?" Miho asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, to be using her surname without rank and talking like that..."

"Sort of. She and I are friends from back in the day."

"You met during the Incident, right, Herr Hauptmann?" Roth asked, eyes fixed on the officer. Schmidt didn't spoke for a few seconds, likely reading the Unterfeldwebel.

"Yes, we met on the first days, but only started to work together near the end." Another sip of coffee. "I was there when Hausser gave you your orders on the fifth day and when your platoon went missing. Hausser knew exactly what you would do once we found the remnants of your team and was furious."

Roth chuckled awkwardly, adverting his gaze. Hans smiled, but then suddenly stared at his superior and friend.

"Wait, so Herr Hauptmann was literally in front of you when you were given orders and you still forgot he was there?"

"I wasn't worried over what temporal officer was accompanying us at the time, ok?!" Hans laughed at Roth's reaction, with Miho joining with a giggle and Maho putting on a slight smile.

"So, you knew Major Hausser from there, Herr Hauptmann?" Asked Hans after a while, taking off the heat from an embarrassed Roth who was sulking on the side. Schmidt nodded absently, taking yet another sip of his coffee.

"Those were other times, with a lot of internal conflict. Hausser joined Kampfgruppe Bittrich during the Incident for safety, same as me. She didn't trust us a lot, but neither did we. Ironic how things change, huh?" Schmidt let out a small sincere smile, taking the group by surprise at the strange sight. The officer quickly hid it with his cup. "On another note, Fehring's older brother was also there: Oberleutnant Edward Fehring, 2ndPanzer Kompanie. He was under my command for a while as well."

"Really? It is a small world..." Miho commented, but Roth and Hans were already connecting the dots. The grim faces they put alarmed Maho, who started to understand the implications as well. Schmidt took a final sip, finishing his coffee, before taking out the envelope of the previous night.

"Nishizumis. This is your last chance to walk out." Both sisters quickly shook their heads, reaffirming their compromise with their German teammates. "Alright. Suit yourselves."

"Is it that bad?" asked Miho, tilting her head. "It's not like we've heard about it before yesterday, not even after staying with you and the rest from Europe for the last month or so. We want to know what really happened that affected everyone so much, yet nobody speaks about."

Schmidt stared at the girl for a few seconds in silence, unnerving the younger Nishizumi. After a while, however, he spoke again.

"It's normal. Nobody who was there wants to recall that hell on earth." He opened the envelope, taking out the photographs inside. "Here, look."

Roth took the photos first, scanning them with quick eyes. There were four photographs, displaying two places. As Schmidt said, it was an urban area and some place in the fields, probably nearby, with two photographs for each. However, the contrast was clear: each place had one picture of it intact, and one of it destroyed. He passed the pictures to Hans, who in turn handed them to Maho after seeing them. The last was Miho, who was clearly quite disturbed upon seeing the scene.

"I recognize that place," Roth said, "It's where the base of the Udarnykh Voysk Akademiya was, where Hans and I were captured."

"What?"

"Ah, the shock troops academy of the Russians," Hans explained to Miho, who nodded as her thanks.

"W-wait, that's where you got captured?" She asked once again, just then catching onto the later part of Roth's phrase. The NCO nodded heavily, leaning back on his chair.

"So it was. Hausser's artillery drew a part of the troops away, so we thought it was a good time for an incursion, go back, and report to command. Unfortunately, it didn't go quite as planned."

"Don't you say..." Miho barely heard Schmidt mutter, his eyes shooting darts against Roth. Nobody else seemed to notice.

"We already told you the story yesterday, and I'm sure Herr Hauptmann knows it quite well," the Unterfeldwebel finished, nodding at his superior. Schmidt gave an affirmative grunt.

"I'll cut to the chase. I don't wish to remain speaking all afternoon." He took the pictures and put them in the middle of the table, allowing everyone to see them at the same time. He started pointing at them as he talked. "The Incident started as a game. A multi-day game to be specific, which is why the construction of permanent bases was authorized for it. Tensions between Russian and German academies were already high at the time, and often we had a couple dead at every minor 'duel' between academies for the prior year or so. Needless to say, it was a powder keg waiting for a single spark to explode."

He pointed to the photo of the fields without damages.

"There was the base of the Sibirskaya Akademiya, one of the two Russian academies in the Incident. The other was the Udarnykh Voysk Akademiya. It's where said spark was lit. I'll sum it up for you: the first three days were quite uneventful, on the four there was a major victory for us and the Russians, on the fifth Hausser led a kampfgruppe on a deep reconnaissance mission, during which Roth and Dietrich were captured, and on the sixth we stormed this base here after our special forces saved the prisoners inside after the battles on the previous day."

Schmidt crossed his arms, now looking at the photo of the destroyed fields, still showing some ruins of the pre-made buildings of the Russian base.

"We had troops waiting for Russian reinforcements when we attacked the place. Only, we didn't think they would come from our rear. Fucking Geissler made it all go to hell."

"W-wait, you mean Oberstleutnant Geissler?!" Roth interrupted, standing up with both hands on the table. "The one in charge of comms?!"

"The one and only. We're all lucky he's death, that's all I'll say." The Hauptmann sighed, moving his gaze through all people in the room. "Anyway, Russian artillery fell upon our men as we were fighting the Russians on both sides. Our reserve was trapped as well. A third wave of Russians appeared but we were saved by friendlies from the Krupp&Henschell Akademie, who arrived just in time. In the end, it was a bloody mess that ended with the fight broken up by force and tons of casualties." Schmidt massaged his nose bridge, sighing. "That's the gist of it, at least. And all you need to know as well."

Roth sit again, staring at his superior officer. He wasn't the only one: Miho was worried at his beaten he seemed for a brief moment; gaze lost on the ceiling as he absently played with his officer cap in his hands. The other three, however, were noticing something wasn't right. What the captain described was a tragedy, sure, but didn't seem like it could cause the wide-spread trauma that many people had regarding the Incident. It was Maho, however, that brought it up to him.

"I have a question, Herr Hauptmann." She didn't wait for him to acknowledge her, speaking as soon as she saw his gaze drop from the ceiling to her. She decided for an indirect approach, linking it to the current situation. "But there's something that doesn't make sense to me."

"What is it?"

"Why is this a tragedy?" Schmidt eyes steeled after her words, but Maho didn't let that stop her. "In this world we have killed hundreds, thousands of enemies, but besides some people who had combat stress or panic attacks, I haven't seen any wide-spread issues among our allies. Some do, I remember Roth and Dietrich being as devastated as we were when we found that burned down village in the forest," the group looked down, bitterly remembering the failed rescue of the elf that died on them, "But I have yet to see anything like that on the people that they have identified as survivors of the Incident. I don't see trauma rampaging through your academies' lines as Kaliningrad did."

Maho keep her icy gaze on the officer's, challenging him.

"So please tell us: what happened there?"

Schmidt said nothing for a long while. Roth and Hans looked at each other, mentally preparing excuses to help save their teammate should Schmidt have anything done at her. Miho took her sister's hand below the table and gave it a squeeze, encouraging her. The tension is the room could be cut with a knife, as four pair of eyes observed a fifth that appeared ready to cut them down at any moment.

However, as the seconds turned to a minute, Schmidt sighed and left his cap on the table, finally breaking his silence. Defeated, he pointed to the picture of the destroyed city. His words, however, were not what the four were expecting:

"You wouldn't get it," As Maho exchanged glances with her two German teammates, Schmidt spoke again, "You wouldn't understand what it's like to be there."

"Why?" Maho pressed, reassured by her sister's hand on hers. "What is so different? In both sides we are killing people and playing war, and in both instances, there are casualties. Why is it different?"

"Here, in Falmart... everything we do here is already expected and planned for to a large degree. Everything we do was thought, planned, calculated, accounted, considered, predicted, whatever word you want to say. The dragon was a surprise, and that's why it affected the mood. But we won. Any feeling of loss was offset by what we achieved against it, sending him off, and the crushing victory against the imperial legion that came after only sealed it as a complete victory. But there..."

Schmidt sighed, supporting his elbows on the table and hiding his face on his palms.

"There...?" Maho continued, but was interrupted by the Hauptmann's hand falling on the photograph.

"When the sixth day arrived... nobody knew what was going on. We were confused, lost, betrayed, alone. Everything happened so fast. I got off my tank to talk to a squad when an MG burst forced me to the ground... suddenly the tank next to me exploded, and I ran to help whoever survived. Fucking Fehring died on my hands! A-and then... another panzer, MY panzer, caught fire, but only my radio operator, managed to escape before it exploded. Then a Russian truck almost ran over me, some fucking Slav killing more with some, I don't know, some fucking automatic weapon!"

His breathing got quicker and rougher, his eyes focused on the photograph in his hand. He spared no one a glance.

"More artillery fell upon us. Bittrich... fucking Bittrich, the one supposed to lead us through that hell, was killed almost instantly, killed by the howitzers before even touching the ground again. We ran for out vehicles, whatever was left, trying to get out of the kill zone. Ditch was killed then, some stray shot going through his tank as he led the column into the city. I almost crashed on the burning wreckage..."

Schmidt stopped for a few seconds, forcing himself to calm down with deep breaths. Opening his lips once again, he continued telling the story:

"It was absolute chaos, and madness. We were in a frenzy, attacking anyone who wasn't wearing our colours. We kept advancing, no matter the cost, killing everyone that got in the way. Tanks bombed out strongholds, half-tracks stormed streets, trucks run over unlucky bastards caught in the open... we didn't notice it, but we were being led into an ambush."

The group exchanged a glance, not sure how to react to their officer. Shyly, struggling to keep out any sign of weakness in her voice, Miho asked:

"T-then... what happened?"

Schmidt stared at her, cloudy eyes exposing how absent he was of the room he was in.

"Hell appeared on Earth."

.

Kaliningrad Oblast
14 months ago...

We didn't notice until it was too late. An ambush. Nobody thought of it. Nobody had time for. I climbed out of the crashed wreck left of the half-track I was riding on to find myself in the middle of a battlefield, a square surrounded by Russians occupying the buildings around us shooting as many insults as bullets rained upon us. Whatever was left of us Germans entrenched tooth and nail in the centre, using a lone Panther with a busted engine as the cornerstone of our defence, its cannon destroying whatever machine gun or heavy weaponry our enemies brought to our collective demise.

I fired my rifle on a Russian. The hardened pellet flew across the air and landed near his neck, and at the next moment I saw him fall from a second floor into the ground, letting out a scream that I somehow managed to hear in the middle of the gunfire. A bloody mess was his final state on this world, unacknowledged by anyone that wasn't me, who saw its final agony moments. However, I shook my head to get rid of it: no time to think for the dead, should I not wish to become one of them. A loud explosion next to us told let me that our panzer had finally perished, a brief sight showing me only its commander managed to escape in time with a well-timed jump. The rest of the crew...were not so lucky.

I blinked, surprised. The Russians had completely surrounded us: they blocked the only path left open with a barricade made of destroyed trucks. Our cover wasn't any better, a mix of burning and destroyed armoured vehicles and transports making up most of it. Clenching our teeth, we made the most of whatever protection was left for us and kept shooting, seeking to take out one Russian for each shot we fired until we all died. Nobody remembered that it was a game anymore. The Russians showed no mercy. Neither did we.

An enemy, Siberian perhaps, fell near my position, wounded. I took a deep breath and ran towards him, sliding up to him. He saw me coming and extended his hand, begging for help. I slammed the barrel of my gun into his face, closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger. After covering from a machine gun barrage that swept the area I went back to my group, not bothering to think of what I had just done.

The situation changed, however. I don't if it were a few minutes or more than an hour, but the noise of combat increased tenfold, scratch that, by the dozens: an entire Panzer company smashed towards the Russians barricades, destroying the building on the opposite side of the square with so much cannon fire that even the Russians on the sides of the place stopped firing in fear. An entire kampfgruppe appeared alongside them: infantry, half-tracks, trucks, and heavy weapons for everyone. It wasn't a salvation chorus: Russian reinforcements arrived in force barely a minute later, and the place was lit up in fire again as both sides tried to overcome the other. It was a ruthless massacre, full of blood, iron and mud. It was a bloodbath. I remember storming half the building left in that square, and breathing so much burnt oil that I thought I would get lung cancer. It was a war orchestra of immense proportions. I don't even know how something could sound so captivating... and terrifying.

...

I don't even know how we got out of it. I think we lost half of the entire group by the time we got out, with most going their own way. We hunted like animals. We murdered like murderers. Everything was fair game. Bundled grenades? Use them all you want. Mark the support pillars of a five-story building and blow them up with panzer fire from the distance? Don't mind if we do. Throw grenades inside houses and kill anyone inside without a single speck of mercy? Thrice every block or so. And if a shot ricocheted on the chassis of our accompanying tank? Fucking smoke the fucking Slav that thought it was a good idea in the first place. Utility bayonets for non-combat uses? Fuck it, put them on your rifle and charge forward, leave the complaining to the defeated.

But then, artillery began to fall upon us once again. Those guns weren't silenced. We were trapped.

"Russian artillery! Get off the street, quick! Get into the houses! Do whatever you need-!" Were the last words of the kampfgruppe's commander before being torn to shreds by a howitzer. I got inside a house and crouched in the basement, praying that nothing fell upon me. After a full minute passed after the last shell exploded, I cautiously left the building to meet up with whoever was left with me.

It was dead quiet. It was like resting in hell.

Oberleutnant Bauer, of my company, was on the street. Looks like he was part of the kampfgruppe that saved us, probably rallied up from the troops left at the Russian base. Aside from a bandage on his arm, he looked no worse for wear. As I approached him, I spotted the commander of the kampfgruppe: Major Lange, panzergrenadiers. Dead.

"Hauptmann Schmidt." Bauer salute was crisp, his eyes shining slightly as he noticed me. "Good to see you alive."

"Same." My gaze swept the street. Two soldiers were manning a radio on the sidewalk, while several more were appearing from houses and ruins to rejoin us. "Status of the unit?"

"I sent someone to check. He'll be back immediately."

"Go to the radio and see what you can find about our men in this side of town. We must regroup with whoever's in command in the area."

"Jawohl." Another crisp salute, and Bauer left. I sighed and took the chance to check on my handgun. Somehow it was still in its place, despite not being that secured after we left the plaza. It looked in good condition, too, which was a relief.

"Herr Hauptmann," I heard someone speak. I raised by gaze to find a Gefreiter in front of me, saluting, "Headcount completed."

"Report."

"Thirty-three infantries so far, plus the panzer with its entire crew. Regarding weapons, we have a flamethrower, two machine guns, and a team with StG assault rifles. We also found a half-track in good condition, though the crew is... well..."

"Dead." I sighed. "At least we have something. Inform me of any change regarding our size or means."

"Yes, sir."

Bauer returned the following second, just as the Gefreiter left.

"How many, Herr Hauptmann?"

"Thirty-odd plus the tank and a half-track. A few nice weapons as well." I seated on the sidewalk, sighing. "Any news?"

Bauer said nothing. I caught a glimpse of his face before he turned to our men: grief. This can't be good. He kicked away the closest enlisted with a glare, finally facing me.

"Short version or long version?"

"Short."

"Well..." He took a deep breath. "Feldgeneral Kurtz is dead. Oberst Keller is dead. Major Bittrich is dead. Oberst Smith is missing. Major Geyst is dead. Oberst Gruwd is dead. Major Hindburg is missing. Oberstleutnant Floyd is wounded. Oberst Fleischer is missing. Major Fromm is dead. You know about Major Lange, dead. Oberst Geissler is..."

Well... shit. The list of officers went on and on. It was depressing. If one already hadn't bitten the dust, it was because they were either on a stretcher or missing. Bauer finished with what I was dreading: I was the highest-ranking officer left on our area. But I wasn't the only officer left in the city at all: as I stood up once more, I heard the sounds of combat between our forces and the Russians on the background, with artillery and tanks firing in an overwhelming cacophony. Yet around us, however, was a silence as quiet as the dead still not in their graves, finally cooling down our spirits enough to think rationally again.

"Herr Hauptmann, your orders?"

I turned around to stare at Bauer, frowning. Orders? We had just survived a massacre, and we weren't ones to simply head off to kill again. This had gone for long enough. And to be fair with myself, it wasn't easy deciding with the anxious stares from all the men around us. I think this has been enough. We should simply head back to base and wait... for...

"Prepare the men. Flamethrowers, grenades, explosives, whatever you find. We'll go to the heart of this city if needed, but we're not leaving until all this FUCKING Russians are dead."

I don't know how I could say that so calmly. It just felt natural. Maybe I still had adrenaline flowing through my system.

"Alright, you heard it men!" I heard Bauer shout. "Assault formation, panzer at the head, half-track at the rear! One infantry column at each side! Move it!"

"""Jawohl!"""

The soldiers moved quickly, quicker than I thought possible as we were. They all saw the same as me. My mind wandered to the rest of our teammates, and to the ones back at the academy that didn't come. I guess someone was kind enough to have them sit out of this fight.

Since with us it was not.

"Achtung, Truppen! Head northwest, eyes open and ears listening! Attack with extreme prejudice, use of explosives is authorized for any threat! DON'T! LEAVE! ANY! ALIVE!"

"""JAWHOL!!!"""

We moved with high spirits. We search every house, every apartment, every room, and every garden. And as we murdered our way to the centre of the city, behind us, further and further away, were left those crucified German corpses along with a Russian message written on them.

.

Italica

"It was all a violent trance after that. It was a house-for-house, street-for-street combat, with equally fanatical assaults from both sides. Tanks and artillery were not even close to eliminated, and it was felt hard. It was a bloodbath. A slaughter. We blew up entrances, destroyed walls, teared down entire houses if we couldn't take them on the first assault. They were the same, if not worse. A fest of fire and blood, while the city burned like it hadn't in decades before."

Schmidt let out a dry laugh, absently toying with his officer cap as he slowly regained his focus on the present.

"I remember leading a group down a street when a sniper found us. The platoon's flamethrower burst into fire, and the landser rolled in the middle of the street trying to save his life to no avail. And we... we just brought the building down, with everyone inside. All for a dead man. Nobody ever stopped to think that it was all supposed to be a game."

And with that, the officer's story was over. The group stared at each other in uneasiness, letting out breath they didn't realize they were holding. They asked, and he delivered: the traumatic past for many in the military academies had been revealed. And while the German captain named Karl Schmidt put the photographs back in their envelope, the rest could only wonder defeated:

'How did it come to this?'

"H-how..." Maho begun, slowly regaining her voice. Her sister, on her side, had her gaze cast down. "How are you still here? I would've thought you would all be locked up after that."

"Well..." Schmidt left the envelope back on its original place. "We kind off struck a deal. You see, for all the carnage that we made, is not like the writing wasn't in the walls or anything. It had lots to do with the original mission of the academies, back during the cold war. No government or military, not even the Russians, wants to reveal such a mess right under their direct supervision. So of course, they tried to sweep it all under the rug, and we went with it. All major matches were cancelled for the remaining of the year, and a couple months later, major reforms to the system were made. The militaries ceded control to the civilians, and sportsmanship took over hierarchy and nationalism. The rest, as they say, it's history, and they hope they can all forget about this in a few more generations so the academies become truly great places."

Schmidt put on his officer cap, sighing heavily. Despite that, he looked a bit relieved to finally share the story.

"The recon teams are leaving tomorrow morning with the Aufklärung-Abteilung on the fourth convoy, transporting the prisoners to Alnus. You might as well enjoy the remaining hours of peace before the shitstorm back in Europe hit us like a storm. That's all."

Schmidt fully turned to them, making a salute.

"You are dismissed."

.

.

.

A/N: Well, apparently, going by my author's note back in the day, I was in bad humour the day I wrote the second half of this chapter in the original version. Well, never let it be said that my characters don't enjoy life XD.

So, mandatory section of changes with the Spanish version. Well, aside from the five thousand extra words (plus a thousand in A/N, of which not all are here), I can sum up the chapter in three categories: first, translated and fixed/improved parts (e.g. beginning and the raid on the village); second, parts remade from scratch (e.g. extracts of diaries and memoirs, the battle against the imperial legion, and the flashback of Kaliningrad); and third, new parts (e.g. meeting Hausser and the whole Hausser-Schmidt dynamic (first person Schmidt calls by its first name, after all)).

Kaliningrad must be addressed here. Leaving aside the how covering up that whole thing is not really realistic at all (it was an improvised sub-plot because I forgot the original idea), in the Spanish version this flashback was the whole thing everyone knew, including me. Well, not anymore: the promised one-shot of the Kaliningrad Incident is being written right now and is expected to have roughly 40k words or so by the end. Being currently on day five, all bar the heavy fighting that I already described here are mostly covered, which made it easier to write about it through the translation.

Also, I swear to God, if anyone starts shipping any characters here...

Well, that's that, I guess. The end may be a bit rushed, though, since it got way longer than anticipated and I just wanted to finish this to stop procrastinating.

That's all I have to say, I guess. So, read ya later,
RedSS.