Iglika: Through long days of training and scattered skirmishes, I began to accept what I had lost and what I would lose.
Iglika: In the end I found my memories were like a hard stone. All I could do was wrap them in flesh and blood, leaving time and pressure to smooth their edges.
Iglika: But no amount of time could quiet the rage I felt at the occupiers who took them from me. This fight was never my cause, not until that cold Christmas morning.
Iglika: But soon, Nusha brought us good news.
Nusha: The final assault is set for August! This battle will decide it all!
Nusha: If we take Czreszewo, we can build a home of our own!
All: Freedom! Freedom at last!
Iglika: Their young voices rose in unison, as if their cheers alone could rebuild their war-torn nation.
Iglika: We were to be embedded as a part of a larger attack group; the whole unit was preparingâgathering weapons, scouting terrain.
Iglika: But from the first gunshot, we all knew something was wrong.
Iglika: We were stopped outside the city, unable even to break the first line.
Nusha: Take cover! I need those trenches reinforced. Where the hell is Third Company?
Broadcast: No contact!
Amid the roaring bombardment, the only way to exchange information is to scream at full volume.
Nusha: And the other companies?
Broadcast: Second and fifth are cut off and under fire! Sixth told us they're too busy to babysit humans!
Nusha: Sh*t! Now of all the goddamned times, they want to bring up the human and arcanist divide?!
Iglika stands beside the captain, bewildered and shocked. She's had limited contact with the other commanders.
Artilleryman Ivan: They're coming in heavy from the West, Captain.
Nusha: Machine gunners!
Iglika: We somehow forgot in all those years of fighting just why we had kept ourselves satisfied with ambushes and minor skirmishes. The occupiers were stretched thin, but they were disciplined, and they had heavy weapons.
Iglika: Our assault was shattered by a sudden counterattack. Ragged guerrillas proved little match for artillery and shock troops.
Iglika: But it somehow got worse. We soon realized we were surrounded.
Bullets skim just over their heads as Iglika and Nusha crouch in a shallow foxhole.
Iglika: We can't do anything as long as they have that artillery.
She can barely hear her own voice at a scream.
Nusha: Find whoever you can and regroup here!
Iglika: What?!
Nusha: Humans, arcanists, whateverâeveryone! The only way we survive is to end this.
Nusha: You, and youâpick two men of your own. We're forming an eight-man assault squad.
She pokes her head up to call two veterans forward but is forced back immediately by gunfire.
Iglika: What are you doing?
Nusha: I'm taking care of that artillery!
As she moves to climb out, Iglika yanks her back.
Iglika: How?!
In her panic, Iglika's arcane skill sparksâbinding Nusha's collar to her hand.
Nusha: Fix my clothes when I get back!
She rips free and crawls out of the crater, leaving only her words behind.
Nusha: There's an armory that way. Watch for smoke!
Iglika: Wait!
But Nusha is already too far away to fall back.
Artilleryman Ivan: What do we do?
Another blast rattles the ground as she stares out toward Nusha. Her little squad has assembled in the foxhole behind her.
Iglika: ...
She slams a fist into the muddy crater in frustration.
Iglika: Advance, eleven o'clock!
They crawl hundreds of meters beneath a storm of bullets, reaching the walls of a derelict slum.
Iglika: Halt.
She signals a stop.
From the second floor of a ruin, a frenzy of shooting erupts.
Artilleryman Ivan: What is it?
Iglika: We need to get up there.
Iglika gestures for the few remaining recruits to flank left and right. They nod, moving with silent coordination toward the building.
Once in position, they await her signal.
Iglika: Ready.
She mimics a throwing motion, then hurls a helmet opposite their approach.
Iglika: Go!
The recruits charge into the ruin. Iglika and Ivan dart forward in the opening.
???: "I-I'll ... I'll take you all ... with me ..."
Iglika: Shepherd?! You?!
On the second floor, the recruits pin down a thin man who refuses to drop his rifle.
At Iglika's voice, his strength gives out, and they all collapse in a heap.
Shepherd: Iglika, Iglika ...
Shepherd: They're dead ...
Beneath the pile, a muffled sob seeps out.
The recruits scramble up, revealing Shepherd sprawled on the floor in tears.
Around him lie empty rifles scattered across the ground.
Shepherd: My herbs ... they couldn't stop the bleeding ...
Shepherd: They're dead ...
Shepherd: Like you said, it'd be better to feed them to the sheep ...
Iglika: Where are the others?
Shepherd: They went s-south ... south of the city.
Iglika: Come on. We'll bring them back.
Iglika reaches out and pulls Shepherd to his feet.
Iglika: Point the way.
Iglika: So I did all that I could, rounding up our scattered comrades.
Iglika: Not many were crazy enough to join us. But by the time I reached the city limits, we were nearly at full strength.
Iglika: Shh ...
Avoiding the searchlights, Iglika finds a blind spot.
In the distance, the waning battle groans with sporadic gunfire and constant shelling.
Artilleryman Ivan: When will the captain signal?
Ivan crawls up from the rear, the searchlight sweeping across the brim of his cap.
Shepherd: Surely she hasn't ...
Iglika: Shut up!
Iglika yanks Shepherd's head back down.
Artilleryman Ivan: What's next?
Iglika glances at Ivan and then over the small band of unfamiliar faces behind him.
Their faces blur in the shadows, but Iglika can feel it: they are waiting for her command.
She is the one who gathered them here, one by oneâand once folded into a group, humans instinctively follow their leader.
And now she has already begun mapping out the battlefield in her head.
Iglika: We need a squad to take that gun emplacement.
She points to the wall above.
Iglika: Ivan, it's been a while since you handled a cannon, hasn't it?
Artilleryman Ivan nods, understanding her plan.
Gunfire rattles above them, freezing them in place.
Iglika: Blind fire, that's all ...
She calms the others, then finishes assigning her assault squad.
Iglika: ...
Iglika slinks toward an opening in the fortress and peers in at the defenses inside.
Iglika: You're with me. Once you're in, hold the corridor. The rest, follow.
Iglika: No shooting.
The others nod.
Iglika threads a line from her fingertip through a crack in the window, binding the latch.
*click*
With a faint sound, the window swings open.
Iglika: Move.
The squad slips inside.
They swiftly take down a few careless sentries.
But just as they move to seize the infantry gun upstairs, the iron gate creaks open.
Officers step through. They meet terrifying strangers, their smiles vanishing.
Two shots ring out at onceâa panicked young guerrilla fires and dies to the occupiers' pistols.
Iglika: Go loud!
The silence inside had lulled them; they had forgotten the danger they were in.
The sudden burst of gunfire jolts Iglika.
Iglika: Upstairs!
Dodging shots, they cut down the guards and gunners by the artillery, holding off pursuers drawn in by the noise.
But on the terrace, Iglika sees it ... the barrel of a cannon on a distant tower, turning their way.
*boom*
Iglika: ...?!
Something explodes in the distance.
*boom*
The explosions come one after another, too large and too frequent for an artillery barrage. It can only mean one thing.
Iglika: Quick! Ivan!
Ignoring the quakes and the looming cannon, Ivan lunges for the tower's own artillery.
He adjusts the barrel like he'd rehearsed a thousand times, seizes the enemy's hesitation, and fires first.
Iglika: Cover him!
She orders her squad to help Ivan take the terrace and lay down suppressing fire, letting him unleash volley after volley.
Seeing the enemy's fortifications in flames, the Liberation Front rally and renew their assault; soon they storm into the city.
But Iglika doesn't rush to join them. She turns back toward the blast site.
Iglika: Comrade, have you seen Captain Nusha?
She moves against the flow, toward the explosions, shouting to every fighter surging into the city.
None stop to answer.
Iglika: Comrades, have you seen Nusha? She should be here.
Chaotic footsteps stamp smoldering fires into ashes, as streams of victorious rebels leap over rubble to reach the city center.
Iglika: Comrade ... ah!
She trips. A foul, scorched stench hits her nose. She sees what she fell over and gags.
A charred corpseâno trace of humanity left.
Iglika: Urgh ...
She scrambles up, meaning to ask someone else.
Iglika: Comrade ...
Iglika: ...
Iglika's voice dies. The fighter she hailed hurries on.
Iglika: ...
Iglika: Nusha ...?
Trembling, she steps back to the corpse, staring in disbelief at the unrecognizable remains.
All blackened, limbs severed. She fights against the thought that it could be her.
Iglika: How ... how could I even know ... this body ...
Is it?
She collapses to the ground.
Iglika: But ... these ... the breaks in the body ...
Iglika: They're all ...
Nusha: Aaaaghhhhh!!
Iglika: Stop moving, or the seam will be crooked.
Nusha: You won't! Aaahhh!! Why does it hurt even more?!
Iglika: No ... no ...
She shuffles backward on the ground, horror on her face. Her palm brushes something familiar.
It's Nusha's collar, still stitched to her hand.
Iglika: Nusha ... Nusha ...!
She recoils, resisting.
Iglika: Nusha!
Her shout echoes in the ruins, drawing glances from passing fighters.
Iglika: Nusha ...
Her strength gives out. The name falls to a whisper.
Iglika: I brought them all back. One by one ... everyone ...
She hopes somehow that she can hear her.
Iglika: Your mission's over ... you did it ... mine's done too ...
Iglika: Why ...
Artilleryman Ivan: Iglika ...?
Ivan follows her into the ruins, stepping carefully over scorched ground.
Artilleryman Ivan: Who ... who is this?
His voice shakes. He knows Iglika wouldn't kneel before just any corpse.
On the ground, she trembles, staring up at him, unable to speak a single word.
Iglika: If it were the captain, what would she say?
Iglika: She's ... she's ...
Nusha: Oh come on, how did you get this hungry? You can't eat these.
Iglika: She's ...
A name, a voice, a smile.
Iglika: Did you ever even picture it would end like this?
In her mind, she laughs and grips Iglika's hand, but urges her not to linger, to keep moving.
Iglika bows her head low. Covering her mouth, she forces herself to speak words she imagines Nusha would say.
Iglika: She gave herself to this revolution ...
Iglika's nails dig hard into her cheek.
Iglika: Let her rest ...
