Hear their Cries

The blazing sun blasted the world below with its scorching rays. The Colorata pilots didn't feel the intense heat while in their Juggernauts, though the warmth felt refreshing. Once again, they heard the monotonous clamoring of mechanical axis joints and the whirring of engines. These sounds were more familiar than their heartbeats and rushing blood.

"Oi, I thought we were Carpe Noctem," Blake said. "Why are we fighting in the daytime like plebs?"

The squadron name "Carpe Noctem" was a simple Latin proverb that meant "seize the night." They were given this nickname because of their prowess in nocturnal operations. So, it's counterproductive to make them fight in an illuminated environment.

"Handler One seems desperate enough."

"If he was so desperate, why can't the remaining Storm Cloud members fight with us?"

"They have their battles, Blake. It seems these unique Legion are mobilizing on multiple fronts. We need to respond and fight now."

"What did Handler One tell you?" Amelia asked.

"It seems these new Legion types are made for quick guerilla strikes. They move in small groups, unlike the Legion we've encountered so far. High agility is expected."

-!Ding!-

"Speak of the blue devil; Handler One sent information on the radar."

"How many are we fighting?" Renata asked.

Noah quickly confirmed the traffic report.

"Damn."

"Noah? How many are we fighting? What are the numbers?"

"It's a squad of twenty specialized units. It's small compared to the past, but I still feel uneasy. They're spread throughout the forest and are two klicks from here."

(Too damn close.)

[Handler One to Black Locust, copy.]

"Black Locust to Handler One, copy."

[These are your orders proceeding forward. You are to take a defensive position and oversee the battlefield. We have delegated a platoon of Juggernaut pilots to your command, including your compatriots.]

"What? I won't be fighting?"

[Correct. You will act as this squad's primary strategist.]

(But isn't that your job?)

Noah wanted to say it, but he didn't speak his mind. He had to phrase it correctly.

"Handler One, isn't it wiser to have you as primary commander of the battlefield?"

[Negative. You are fighting with the aid of increased forces against an enemy I cannot see. I will not be able to serve well; your physical presence on the battlefield is vital. Additionally, I must oversee other battles. Besides that, you are the most skilled Processor, so I designate primary command unto you, Black Locust. Lead this platoon. This order is unchanging until further notice.]

"Roger."

Handler One's voice cut away, and Noah was left with his thoughts. He quickly briefed his companions and the other Eighty-Six.

(I'm just leading them to die.)

Noah's guilt gnawed at his soul until nothing remained but bitterness.

"I am taking position."

Noah situated his Juggernaut in-between two hills that'd allow for cover. If Noah felt daring, he'd peek over and observe the conflict.

(I won't need to, though.)

The Republic of San Magnolia uncharacteristically upgraded the Juggernauts. Each one had cameras in place to record in real-time, but this footage was meant for review after a battle. The new Juggernaut upgrade allowed multiple pilots to observe different viewpoints in real-time, and Noah took advantage of this.

(I can see everyone.)

The upgraded radar showed the forty Processors marching into battle. He could observe first-person perspectives as though he was there. Aside from his comrades, his opposition sporadically appeared on the sensors, only to vanish again.

(Like ghosts.)

Noah shook his head of the unnecessary thoughts and focused on his underlings' positions.

(What is this? The formation is too basic.)

It was a typical diamond formation.

"Oi, this is Black Locust to all units; what the hell are you doing?"

The procession halted.

(These guys are green. Juggernauts can't handle direct conflicts.)

"I need to lay a trap."

Legion is made to march and destroy, and their tactics were simple. Noah anticipated this and placed the Juggernauts in a pincer position - he would have his troops bombard the Legion from their left and right flanks.

(This should be enough. If those specialized Legion march into the open, they'll be obliterated. They won't be able to handle the collective shelling of twenty-four Juggernauts on either flank.)

"Reserve forces, be prepared to engage."

It would be foolish to throw everything in one attack. Black Locust had sixteen Juggernauts in reserve, ready to flank the Legion and provide support. Some would serve as long-range snipers, while others would stay hidden.

"Here they come!" He declared.

He barely saw the new Legion scuttling in the dense tree line through the Juggernauts' cameras. From his report, they were quadrupedal units that possessed one cannon and one machine gun on either side of their hull. It seems it was a hybrid of the Ameise and the Grauwolf. Through the limited vision Black Locust could afford, he saw the new units creeping through the shrubbery, growing closer.

"Wait for it."

Black Locust expected the blatant, shameless charge of the Legion, but the events proceeded differently, thus shocking him.

-!!Krakaboom!!-

-!!Krakaboom!!-

-!!Tatatatatata!!-

(They're trying to flank us instead!?!)

Instead of charging into the open, the Legion hid in the forest and lobbed their rounds under the leafy canopy. As that occurred, they sent their other units to attempt an attack from behind.

<All Units: 40>

<All Units: 34>

Black Locust's display updated in real-time, showing his fallen comrades.

(Damnit!)

"Pull back! Provide suppressive fire!"

The opposition took the initiative, but Black Locust's platoon had the superior numbers.

(I need to see what's happening!)

He took control of the cameras and saw the new Legion.

(You...)

"Gamma and Delta squad, I am sending the targets' location! Fire when ready!"

Black Locust quickly took control of the situation: the surprise attack was quickly staved off by the reserved forces, and the Legion gave ground.

"Six Legion scouts are trying to attack our right flank."

Black Locust sent the coordinates on the grid point and his allies quickly responded with an aerial bombardment.

-!!Krakaboom!!-

The explosions ripped apart the air; Noah could imagine it, the air distorting from the scorching heat and pressure, pulsating from the sheer kinetic forces. He'd envision the shrapnel ripping through the Legion, shredding their mechanical organs. Instead of flesh and blood of mortal beings, there'd only be wires for veins, oil for blood, and metal sheets for skin.

Through another's version, Black Locust confirmed the destruction of three guerilla-type Legion. The other three evaded and fell back.

"Reserve forces, advance!"

As if the world couldn't become more monstrous, the cacophony of machine-gun fire peppered the landscape, and Black Locust saw a Legion torn to shreds.

(They seem to have light armor.)

The battle procession was lengthy. Near the end, half of Noah's forces were killed, but the enemy lost thirteen units.

(They haven't retreated yet.)

When Legion accumulates substantial damage, they calculate the probability of winning, and if they deem sustained losses too likely, they initiate their retreat protocol. These units still persisted, disregarding the unfavorable conditions.

(Is that their leading unit?)

Only one Legion stood out; it was the deadliest opponent out there, and it seemed to have rudimentary command over the rest. Other units would revolve around it as if receiving orders.

(I never thought about it in-depth, but there must be a hierarchy amongst Legion. A sole commander that oversees the battlefield from afar. Is that one of them?)

This single unit dived and slid amongst the Juggernauts, dodging attacks while launching their own. They would fire their singular armament and, in-between reload times, switch to their dual machine guns. This Legion was responsible for half the causalities, and Noah bit his tongue in frustration as he watched his comrades die.

-!!Tatatatatata!!-

-!!Krakaboom!!-

Noah could hear their cries through the Para-Raid as if it wasn't enough to watch.

"Mother..."

"Help me..."

"It's hot..."

"No!! NO!!"

"I don't want to die..."

They screamed in his ears as if begging for salvation, begging for a chance to escape and live. Like a hammering nail, their pleas drove deeper into Noah's mind.

Although, it was the final scream that spurred him to action.

(Enough!!!)

Black Locust's Juggernaut lurched forward. His engine roared to life, and his mechanical legs shuddered as they stabbed into the earth. Noah's war machine crept over the hill, aiming its cannon towards the sky. He planned his shelling to arc through the air and descend onto the Legion below.

"All squads in the surrounding area, fall back!!"

His comrades obeyed and quickly backpedaled from their positions. Through different eyes, he saw the Legion scan the fleeing Juggernauts as if panicked.

With bated breath, Black Locust fired a single shot. The round burst forth and traveled through the clear blue sky, the only blemish on the heavens. It had a near parabolic arc and was a mathematical masterpiece.

Perhaps the world slowed down, but Noah felt the time was growing sluggish. His target looked upwards, turned around, and tried to escape, but it was a pointless effort.

The following impact wasn't a massive conflagration of flames, but an explosion of dirt and debris. It shook the earth like a pounding fist, and the roar was akin to a dragon's dying breath, sending shockwaves through the forest. The sheer amount of displaced earthen mass made the world flip on itself. There was nothing but a gaping crater with a mechanical corpse in the middle when the dark dust settled.

The scene was reminiscent of a squashed bug in the dirt.

(I did it. I hit my target.)

As Noah surveyed the landscape, he heard the Resonance notification.

[Handler One to Black Locust, copy. We have surveilled the battle, and the specialized Legion are retreating. It seems your well-placed shot was able to turn the tide]

(How? I only fired on one.)

"Permission to pursue?"

[Affirmative.]

"All units, reform and pursue the fleeing Legion. Eradicate as many as possible."

[You've done well. After the operation is concluded, return to base.]

"Roger."

***

It was a slow trek, and the squadrons' minimum speed was 60 kph to conserve their energy. As they crawled across the natural landscape, Noah gritted his teeth.

(Too many died.)

Noah could still hear their cries... the cries of the dead, the ghosts of the battlefield.

(Mother...)

(Help me...)

(It's hot...)

(No!! NO!!)

No matter how many times he shook his head, he still heard the screams. Especially the last one...

(I got them in my web now.)

How did Noah hear it? Those were the last words of Toby, their fallen comrade of the previous operation. It rang so swiftly in his ears, like a passing wind.

(Am I going insane?)

Noah felt the cold confine of his Juggernaut, the anxiety in his spine. He hated it, he wanted to get out, to be free. His train of thought needed to stray away, to latch onto anything.

"Guys? Guys, you there?"

"Carpe Noctem, reporting, sir."

Noah sighed in relief. Even if he confirmed their survival, seeing indicators on a screen and hearing their voices were different.

"You okay, Noah?" Amelia asked.

"Y-yeah."

"Are you sure?"

After a short pause, Noah said, "Ah, fuck it. I'm fine as I can be."

"Fair," Renata added.

"Hey, guys, can I ask you something?"

Noah felt hesitant to voice his concern, but he wanted to lift this burden from his chest.

"Sure, shoot," Terrence (Thumper) answered.

"Did you guys... hear voices?"

"Of course," Terrence stated. "You'll always hear something if the bullets don't drown it out."

"W-what about the voices of- uh... the-"

(Damnit.)

"Noah, are you sure you're okay?"

"I don't know."

(Shit, I need to spill it out.)

"I heard something when we were fighting. Through all the other voices, I heard... Toby."

After Noah finished his piece, only silence remained. Only Blake spoke up.

"Are you sure? Don't ya think you just heard something?"

"That's exactly what I am thinking. I am probably hearing things."

"Do you want to know what I think it is, Captain?"

"Go ahead, Terrence."

"When you talk about it, I might've heard something about this before," Terrence added.

"Really? What is it?"

"I dunno, I kinda forgot. But I swear I know something about it. I think it's called PTSD."

"What the hell is that?" Renata asked.

"I forgot what it stood for, but I think it stands for Permanent Terror Surging Disorder. It's when you get a bunch of panic attacks and bad memories from a certain event."

"Do you think Noah has that?" (Amelia.)

"I dunno, I'm not a mind doctor!" Terrence affirmed. "But my old squad leader used to talk about it. He had a bunch of stories. Before the labor camps, he used to fight with the white pigs when the Republic still had an army. He said some Alba soldiers got scared just from hearing a loud bang. That's what happened when those bastards fought the Legion for too long."

"Pffft, pathetic. The Alba pricks couldn't handle the heat, so they make us fight instead."

"Anyways, my old captain said this, 'clapping your hands near soldiers' heads will make 'em go scrambling on the floor like worms, ducking for cover.'"

Renata and Blake burst into laughter, while Noah and Amelia stayed silent.

"Damn, imagining white pigs squirming around in circles makes me laugh," Blake said.

"Well," Thumper continued, "he said a symptom of PTSD is hearing the voices of dead people. But yeah, it's all in your head. Probably."

"Noah, if you hear something like that again, tell us. We're here, and we can talk about it. That's what comrades are for, sharing the burden."

"Thank you, Amelia. I will."

After finishing the conversation, Noah felt somewhat at ease.

***

"No! NO!"

"Mother..."

"I don't want to die."

"Shit. Screw this life."

"I got them in my web now..."

"It's hot..."

"I got them in my web now I got them in my web now I got them in my web now I got them in my web now I got them in my web now"

"Shit. Screw this life."

"Auurraaghhh!!!"

"Help me!!"

"H3)p m4 / ^$% @"

[!"#$%&'()0]

"I'm coming to help, hold on!!"

[I'#m c@m---ing to h%6p 0n"

[C *nQ =6 E? r u` XQG]

Six more sorties. Six more sorties occurred after the last operation.

Since then, the voices in Noah's mind have become worse.