Within Vera's past<//M.I.N.D.>, she was borne on a sea of hands to the "little Commandant," offering her own flesh and blood.
She pulls you along for the final leg of your journey together.
Yet "reality" seems like a projection of the M.I.N.D., only in reverse.
Amid a shower of dust, three people—or more accurately, one person plus a pair of "conjoined individuals"—tumble unceremoniously from a duct, crashing onto the floor of a corridor in the gene repository.
As you carry the Construct on your back you take a hard fall, but after just catching your breath twice, you immediately push yourself up to check on Vera's condition.
The Mind Beacon reflects the frame's data synchronization status, progressing abnormally slowly.
Haniff is the first to roll over and get back on his feet.
How many followed us?!
...Impressive. You managed to block it while carrying such a large Construct... Cough, cough! Dust everywhere...
Let's check the tracker first. Where's "Eve"?
The dot's glow is fainter, but they can confirm "Eve" is somewhere nearby.
Just as I thought, it escaped into this gene bank. Let's move.
Haniff kindly helps you to your feet—that exoskeleton is certainly cumbersome.
Meanwhile, he catches your scrutinizing gaze, taking advantage of the moment to observe you.
What's up? You look like you've got something on your mind.
Because I'm Kurono personnel. Of course I know about these little secrets...
...I admit I researched this Genomic Resource Center a bit before we departed, but I absolutely had no intention of harming any of you.
I told you before, I want you to get me away from Kurono, and in exchange, I'd lead you to the "treasure"... We just happened to run into some major trouble.
Why the sudden interest in these finicky details? After two whole days of going through hell, have you finally been charmed by me? Looking to whisk me away on a white horse?
Haniff quickens his pace forward, words flowing smoothly from his mouth, as if the questions themselves are of little concern to him.
You look once more at Haniff's lapel. In fact, when you first "escorted" him onto that transport ship, you had already discovered a small F.O.S. badge hidden in the inner lining of his coat.
What's this "smell of F.O.S." you're talking about? Like how yesterday you nearly strangled me, then pointed a gun at me—all because I "acted" a bit too much? Was it actually because I was too smelly?
...You and Vera really are cut from the same cloth.
...Fine, no point in hiding it. I did graduate from F.O.S. Military College, but I severed ties with Babylonia long ago. Now I'm just Kurono's little dog.
Haniff raises an eyebrow, maintaining his dismissive "think what you want" attitude.
Nothing special. Just ranked in the top ten overall.
I was never a "Chief." That position...
No, that's not it. Being that kind of "hero" standing in the spotlight just doesn't suit me, that's all.
Haniff takes a deep breath.
I doubt anyone would believe me if I said it—I'm here to find my family.
Don't misunderstand—I'm no kin with those vicious Hetero-Creatures.
I want to find my true origins, and my investigation just happened to lead me here. I don't believe anyone could be under Kurono's control from the moment of birth, so I want to figure out what exactly made them take an interest in me.
See? You don't believe me, as expected. And I'm guessing you won't like this kind of story—all this secrecy and mystery, only to end up being about some trivial family matter.
Silent again... I suppose that's one of your virtues, staying quiet about things you don't understand.
But this is my story. Heroic epics like yours that are known all over the world are a rarity. Mine is just the tale of a small shadow drifting through the world, the type you'd be able to find anywhere.
I've said everything that I can tell you. If you have no other questions, please trust me a little longer. Besides, our current situation is extremely urgent—
You interrupt Haniff, tapping the gun in your hand as you deliver a warning.
...
Alright, understood.
...Why are you suddenly willing to turn your back to me?
...Oh, so you noticed that.
Like a bird with its beak held shut, he folds his wings and follows quietly for once.
With Vera on your back, you stride forward through the darkness while using the Mind Beacon to connect with the frame M.I.N.D., accelerating the adaptation process.
Everything seems to be progressing naturally—a hero's presence is reassuring, promising a happy end.
The dim corridor lights stretch into long shadows behind them, with Haniff caught in the protagonist's silhouette. He repeatedly inhales as if to speak, then hesitates.
Countless times his lips move, but each time he swallows his words back down.
He remains silent. After all, his innate destiny has always been "imitation," and years of experience have accustomed him to being a mere "shadow."
And all his actions until now have been rebellious attempts to defy this fate.
Whether playing mind games or deliberately sabotaging situations, he uses these tactics to gain more freedom.
Yet deep inside, he can't help but feel curious about the "hero" he was meant to imitate.
Originally, he didn't even have an "origin" to speak of.
—Only a name he was born with.
His name is...
Your name is...
You are...
"Haynes."
From developing from a tiny embryo into human form, to gradually gaining knowledge of the world, to the rapid emergence of "self-awareness"... most of his memories revolve around this name.
In his hazy childhood memories, there were 10 "Haynes" in total, and he was Number 10.
Numbers 1 through 9 were successively deemed to have "genetic defects" or be "unsuitable" by the adults, then immediately died.
But he was born with a stronger instinct for self-preservation than others—he feared death, so he deeply understood the importance of being "obedient and well-behaved."
He was more suited than anyone to be a perfect "shadow."
You're... "Haynes"? The last one to survive screening... so you were assigned to Babylonia?
Who knows what kind of scheme that old bastard is cooking up now.
...
Bearing this name, he was sent to Babylonia's Youth Development Center, occasionally receiving support from kind-hearted individuals from Kurono, and lived through his bewildering teenage years in what could be called exceptional stability.
He followed his sponsors' every command without question—studying whatever they told him to study, helping with whatever small tasks they asked him to help with.
He had no demands, no desires. The driving force behind all his actions was simply fear of death. After all, the deaths of the previous nine Haynes subjects were genuinely terrifying.
But from some point on, a certain name began to frequently reach his ears.
That day, he stopped in front of one of the promotional videos commonly seen throughout Babylonia, where everyone couldn't help but focus on the gray figure within it.
Welcome Back ceremony... Construct squad... the Gray Raven Commandant... and Cerberus squad's...
...repelled the Ascendants, scattering sparks of hope across the sea...
...
For the first time, he wanted to express his own hopes and dreams.
But before he could speak, the sponsor from Kurono arrived to inform him of a new mission.
Your mission is to enter F.O.S. Military College as a student.
This could be considered the first positive "coincidence" in his life. He immediately sat up straight.
—I understand. I'll apply right away.
...You seem eager to do so. Is there any reason for your enthusiasm?
The man looks somewhat puzzled.
I thought you'd pursue scientific research when you grew up, yet you've had a change of heart. Could you really be the most different one after all?
...Which one?
"Haynes," besides those nine... are there many more?
No, there aren't any more, haha...
What's so funny?
Haynes suddenly feels like a lab rat, lifted by its tail by the people who have been experimenting on him for years, suspended in the air as they scrutinize his defenseless body from all angles.
His displeasure with this name suddenly bursts forth, along with the years of surveillance and control he's endured because of it.
...So, do I keep on being "Haynes"? Then go to F.O.S. with that name while I work for Kurono?
What's with all the questions today? Just do as you're told.
The man pulls up several consent forms and turns the screen toward him.
The consent forms are lengthy, and the man only finishes his explanation as the artificial daylight fades.
...In short, once you enter F.O.S. College, you must remain competitive for the "Chief" position by any means necessary. As long as you can do that, Kurono will continue to support you.
And if I can't, I die?
It's not that severe. You'd still be useful to us.
...Fine, I'll do it. Let me repeat my understanding of these documents—you want to create another "Chief," right?
Good, you understand. Your overall qualities are excellent, and you're obedient too. I feel this mission will suit you perfectly.
Besides, we haven't mistreated you, have we? For a "hostage" of the Haynes family, your life in Babylonia has been quite luxurious.
...I don't understand. Where do I sign?
The man points to a corner of the screen.
Don't worry, this is a good opportunity. After you graduate from F.O.S., Kurono will arrange your future placement.
Whatever you say.
—As long as I get into F.O.S. College, things should be different.
Thinking this to himself, he raises his hand and signs the name that has accompanied him for over a decade.
Very good. Now go become the next "Chief."
On his first day at F.O.S., he immediately began "diligently" gathering information.
He pored over the roster of past students, tracing down the names of each successive Chief one by one.
<size=50><b>At the founding of F.O.S. Military College, the first Chief student, ■■■■, disappeared.</b></size>
<size=50><b>Second class, ■■■■, confirmed KIA.</b></size>
<size=50><b>Third class, ■■■■, disappeared.</b></size>
<size=50><b>Fourth class, ■■■■, underwent Construct modification, currently assigned to Purifying Force...</b></size>
<size=50><b>Fifth class, ■■■■, confirmed KIA.</b></size>
...
<size=50><b>Class ?, Chrome, underwent Construct modification, currently assigned to Strike Hawk Squad of the Task Force...</b></size>
<size=50><b>Class ?, [player name], currently assigned to Gray Raven Squad of the Task Force...</b></size>
Clap!
...
He closes the roster of past students, no longer wanting to continue reading.
He still remembers attending the enrollment ceremony that day. The auditorium spotlights were rather stingy, casting their beams upon only a lucky few.
He silently stared at those few beams of light, a vision of the end of this "mission" flashing through his mind—he knew that those standing where the light couldn't reach would be reduced to a single line reading "disappeared" or "confirmed KIA."
<size=30>Hey,</size> classmate, why did you choose to come to F.O.S.?
Another young man beside him leans in with a whispered question.
...
He doesn't answer. He can only hear his heart pounding like a drum, feeling the delayed tremors coursing through his body.
He fears death, yet suddenly realizes he's chosen the path that brings him closest to it.
This trembling persists until the first class for freshmen.
The first lesson contains neither theory nor practice, but takes place at Memorial Plaza, before the monument.
The monument serves as a boundary stone—the only true divider between life and death.
He stares at the densely packed list of fallen on the monument, unable to even locate the names of those Chiefs he had just seen in the register.
He trembles uncontrollably, the anthem unique to F.O.S. echoing in his mind as his fingers trace across the monument.
For the second time, he wanted to express his hopes and dreams to the world.
Why are you still spacing out?
？
Wow, dressed like that too. Just wait, the Instructor's gonna remove all those dangly things from your ears tomorrow. He was already eyeing you several times during the assembly.
...You got a problem with it? If I can't mess with anything else, what's wrong with messing with my own appearance?
Wha?
The overly friendly youth across him freezes for a moment, not expecting his future classmate to respond like that.
Are you upset? I-I was just trying to make conversation. They pointed you out to me, said you ranked first overall in the entrance exams.
Maybe you'll become our class's Chief in the future? Haha.
I won't be first in class.
He keeps Kurono's plans firmly in mind, but far exceeding those plans are the seeds of rebellion deeply rooted in his heart.
Of course, I'll be competing for it too, haha...
Ridiculous.
I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Bieble. What's your name?
Bieble extends his hand to Haynes, while their nearby classmates turn to watch.
...
My name is—
The name that had been attached to him for years gets stuck on the tip of his tongue, and he suddenly halts.
Various thoughts lead his anxious gaze to search—until finally, his eyes land on an unremarkable name from the memorial.
...
He snaps back to reality and grasps Bieble's outstretched hand.
The "shadow" within him grips that hand tightly. In this span of a single day, it's the third time he wants to voice his hopes.
My name is...
But this time, he doesn't hesitate. He immediately fulfills his own wish—he gives himself a true name.
—Haniff. Please call me Haniff.
My name is Haniff, student ID 1364.
Haniff... student ID 1364... no problem. Graduation qualifications approved. You are permitted to participate in the graduation assessment.
Haniff's terminal immediately receives the test announcement from Academic Affairs. He browses through it while walking toward the crowd nearby.
Time passes in the blink of an eye. It feels like the school anthem had been echoing in their ears for only a brief moment before their graduation arrived.
The moment he named himself became a turning point. He grew more ambitious and cunning, developing many demands while accumulating countless small acts of rebellion over the years.
Like adding more small components to his body, or deliberately scoring right at Kurono's passing threshold...
But none of it was enough.
...canceled the field drill... because of severe casualties among Commandants and Constructs... can't spare any personnel...
Now I feel like they're totally underestimating us. If they were to let me go to the surface, I would get a perfect score, just like the Gray Raven Commandant!
(It's the Gray Raven Commandant again.)
He pushes through the crowd engaged in heated discussion and walks away.
It's still daytime. You'd better save the sleep talking for the night.
Get a load of this!
Bieble turns around and delivers a precise elbow strike, only to be effortlessly blocked.
Immature.
You just never have anything nice to say, huh?
The young graduates, soon to leave the nest of F.O.S., share a moment of laughter before dispersing to their individual holographic simulation pods.
The assessment begins much easier than expected, with the first base station being quickly conquered by their team.
After confirming his ranking, Haniff exits his holographic simulation pod.
The room is as cramped as a small box, so confined it might as well be a prison cell.
Haniff presses the button by the door, and after a brief electric noise, an emotionless voice emanates from the speaker.
Ranking?
Currently at 10th place. That should meet your requirement, right?
The voice on the other end of the call falls silent, as if it is pausing to verify Haniff's words.
After a brief moment of silence, the voice echoes again.
Ranking verified. You can now go to the cafeteria.
Before him, a deep and dark corridor unfolds, lined with identical metal doors on both sides.
They're really trying to create a "Chief," huh?
In the darkness, he lets out a quiet snort.
By the third day, problems arise with capturing the nodes. The students who advocated for a direct assault initially planned to head straight for the strategic points, only to have their advance severely hindered by ambush forces along the way.
Everyone suffers heavy casualties, and the injuries simulated based on real battlefield data are truly horrifying to witness.
URGH!
A Corrupted slices open Freeman's abdomen, ripping out his internal organs.
Freeman! I'm coming right—
Don't go! He can't be saved! There are too many Corrupted over there!
Haniff yanks Bieble by the arm and pulls him into nearby cover before the Corrupted can deliver another blow.
Weren't we told that everything would get better if we launched another attack?! What other options do we have... what do we do now...!
We have no support or supplies right now. We need to wait for reinforcements. We can't afford to advance recklessly anymore.
...Okay, okay! There must be another way... We'll try again! Haniff, let's fall back, wait for the others, and look for another opportunity!
Bieble grits his teeth as he bandages his wound, his face revealing a stubborn determination that only grows stronger with each setback.
...
...As expected, this could only be a simulation test.
Haniff temporarily withdraws from the test.
The test is not over yet. Why did you stop?
It's clear that I can't complete the next mission on my own. I'll have to wait for others to catch up.
F.O.S.'s graduation test this time is unlike the previous ones. Instead of squad tactics, it places more emphasis on overall strategic planning.
Have you considered the possibility that the military no longer intends to produce the kind of Chief you're looking for?
...Focus on your own tasks. Do not speculate, and do not test us.
"Focus on your own tasks. Do not speculate, and do not test us" ...How interesting.
He uses his precious "30-minute free activity period" to visit the memorial plaza, habitually placing a bundle of white flowers beneath the countless names of the fallen heroes.
After that, he returns to his dormitory and enters a name he has heard countless times over the years into the archives center.
If the simulation tests are based on events that actually happened... I'll search for the Gray Raven Commandant's combat records.
The limited publicly available data appears before his eyes, illuminating his small dormitory room.
—The first-person battle footage replays on Haniff's retina, showing how unusually determined the owner of the camera was,
crawling forward desperately yet refusing to abandon any comrade, finally reaching the destination in an utterly devastated state.
But even so, the people they dragged back didn't survive.
The camera recording the battle footage has no emotions, yet profound sadness is still transmitted through the images into the heart of everyone who watches it.
...Great, what a complete waste of time.
Why would the Gray Raven Commandant even do something like this... Bieble better not learn from this. It's the dumbest approach—trying to save everyone naturally results in saving no one. The right thing to do is to abandon those "shadows" that are doomed to die early.
He closes the battle record, thinking in the darkness that once again falls silent around him.
That's right. The existence of shadows... what is the purpose of someone like me?
Haha... even giving myself a name didn't really help with anything.
No. 1364, report your schedule today.
16:00 departed, 16:12 arrived at the shopping street, bought a serving of grilled artificial meat there... 16:42 arrived at Dominik Memorial Plaza, sat there for a while; 17:00 returned.
This week, you've been going to the Dominik Memorial Plaza every day during your break. What's the reason?
Just want to pick a good spot for myself on that monument.
Please answer it seriously.
I am being serious, though...
Haniff raises his hand in a gesture of surrender toward the camera.
It's a job with a very high mortality rate. Didn't you explicitly acknowledge that in the contract?
I'm just trying to confirm one thing: where are you planning to assign me after graduation? The Task Force? Purifying Force? Or as your private soldiers?
It's not for you to decide. Do not pry into matters you shouldn't.
If there's an option, I'd prefer to join the Task Force.
As if not hearing the voice's warning, Haniff continues to talk.
At the very least... I can leave behind my name to be remembered.
After Kurono's monitor temporarily leaves, Haniff contacts Bieble.
Are you also looking at the battle records? I don't think they're very useful. I've already tried arranging combat tactics based on them, but it still ended in complete annihilation.
Don't lump me together with a paramecium like you. I've already tossed those records aside.
Oh? So what new ideas do you have?
I wouldn't call it an excellent new idea, but it should be useful for these simulated combat assessments.
Starting with the next battle, help mobilize all nearby combat personnel and integrate all team members so we can act together.
Human wave tactics, huh?
Since our only goal is to succeed, sacrificing those who were already destined to never become "Chief" doesn't matter. It's the difference between heroes and shadows, even novels have always divided them clearly.
Besides, we have countless opportunities to try, which is what makes this different from those battle records. We'll succeed eventually—
Bieble suddenly interrupts him with a question.
Wait, so what's your own role in all this? Are you a hero or a shadow?
I've said before, I have no interest in competing for Chief. I'll always stay at tenth place...
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard you say it before, everyone dreams of becoming someone like the Gray Raven Commandant, while your dream is to be just another name on the memorial for the sacrificed, right?
I truly...
"Truly" what? Don't give me that—are you really okay with something like being a few words on a piece of stone?
Bieble, seeing through years of Haniff's insincere words, questions him point-blank.
Do you truly, willingly want to be that sacrificed "shadow"?
...
Haniff has to admit that it took someone as blunt as Bieble to ask the question he couldn't bring himself to voice.
...
...!
Haniff looks up to see that reassuring figure ahead has turned around and is now giving him instructions.
...Go on.
...
After giving these instructions, you stride forward with purpose.
The figure ahead sways under the weight they carry. From their tone, they seem genuinely lost in memories of their school days.
No, you've made the wrong decision. You and Vera are the strongest fighters here. If something really goes wrong, I should be the first one to die.
Or are you going to heroically declare that "I won't leave anyone behind" on a battlefield?
He scoffs, unable to help but recall that ridiculous battle record he saw years ago—a record that came from the very person walking ahead of him.
...Enough. You don't need to spare my feelings or pretend everything's fine while explaining things to me. I understand perfectly well.
I may be your junior, but I'm not a child. I'll surpass you, since you and I are different.
Haniff suddenly quickens his pace, overtaking his superior and insisting on walking at the very front.
I only have some minor wounds. No need to treat me like an invalid and keep me in the back. Let me scout ahead.
That's a death flag if I've ever heard one.
Haniff suppresses all his emotions and cuts off any potential conversation—but once again, a new hope has bloomed within him.
<size=30>Shh, we're getting close to "Eve."</size>
<size=30>Listen... there's someone there.</size>
