“Time to... rise.”

Half a beat before the alarm rang, AB instinctively snapped her eyes open. She sat up in one swift movement, threw back the soft covers, and got out of bed, switching off the alarm clock before it could sound.

Waking before the alarm: a skill only those who had spent their entire lives rising on time could acquire.

AB had already reached that level.

“Satisfactory. No signs of impaired condition.”

Despite going to bed relatively late last night, she felt utterly refreshed. It might have been different had injuries and fatigue left her exhausted, but a little lost sleep was no problem for AB, who went to bed and rose on schedule every day.

“...”

Of course, to credit her diligence alone for her good condition would be to discount her surroundings far too much.

The cozy blankets and warm room. The dry, fresh scent, as though everything had been aired in the sun. The freshly washed and dried clothes, and the kettle that was always bubbling away.

Everything in this room enveloped AB in gentle comfort. Unaccustomed as she was to that unfamiliar ease, she would find herself nestled in it before she knew it.

Looking around the room, AB turned her gaze to him, asleep on the sofa. Sleeping in a posture of absolute ease, he still showed no intention of waking on his own.

“Please wake...”

About to wake him, AB suddenly stopped her hand.

Yesterday evening, he had disappeared somewhere and returned with a doctor. Thanks to him, Anna had received proper treatment and was now recuperating at home.

He had even found someone to nurse her, allowing AB to sleep with a much easier mind.

He must have been even busier last night than she had been.

“... Sleep well.”

Instead of touching his shoulder, AB drew the blanket up over it. He stirred, working his lips like a baby. The sight brought a gentle smile to her face.

She had things to do on her own anyway. There was no need to wake him.

“I will be back.”

Having changed into her uniform, AB put on her cap and left the room.

Perhaps because the morning commute had yet to begin, the streets, where the sun had not fully risen, were far quieter than yesterday. Up and out early, AB walked down the peaceful street in uniform.

Her destination was District 10. It was not within walking distance.

As she headed toward the main road to hail a motor carriage, she happened to notice the corridor-style residence she had seen yesterday. The door the two young men had pounded on so insistently now stood wide open.

Had he woken on time today? Just as AB wondered, the two young men who had knocked yesterday morning emerged... from that doorway. Their expressions were deeply somber and sad.

Those who learned Synchronization magic possessed excessive empathy. AB's chest tightened for a moment. Instinctively, she moved closer, just below them, and listened.

“Philip... you bastard. If you were going to go, you could've at least told us... No wonder you insisted on treating us...”

The first young man out muttered into his hands, covering his face. The other, following behind him, asked cautiously,

“... What are we going to do? If we don't pay, Philip—no, Philip's body—is going to the incinerator.”

“... Damn it. We'd need to save a week's wages just to give him something resembling a funeral. What are we supposed to live on until then? There's nothing we can do. That was his lot.”

People often turned to anger to shut out guilt. Having shouted without any clear target, the young man strode away from the residence. The other hurried after him.

Once they were gone, only the wide-open door remained, a forlorn sentinel. The dim interior looked even colder than it had yesterday, when the door had been firmly shut.

AB could not tear her gaze from it until the motor carriage driver worked up the courage to urge her along.

The Shelter. It was an organization AB knew well.

The Military State had countless soldiers, and just as many veterans. Many had served since the days of the kingdom before being discharged due to injury or old age.

As former soldiers, they were physically robust. They had money to spare and were full of pride at having toppled the kingdom. Their experience in an organization also made it easy for them to form a new one.

Founded by veterans who had gathered together, the Shelter had become a sort of vigilante group as well as a charitable organization that protected and aided orphans.

“... Please understand that I cannot provide my name and rank. I am conducting a classified operation.”

District 10. The Shelter's headquarters stood on the boundary between the city center and the back alleys.

Frontain, former major general of the Military State and current director of the Shelter, answered with a twitch around his eyes.

“Yes. That's the rule, technically. Even as a former major general, I can't demand the name and rank of someone on active duty.”

“Affirmative. Furthermore, although you are a former soldier, you are also a civilian, and therefore obligated to cooperate with me. I request your wholehearted cooperation.”

Those trained in energy arts had stronger bodies than ordinary people, but even they could not avoid the loss of stamina that came with age. No matter how high their rank, once soldiers grew too old to count as effective fighting strength, retiring was both a duty and a virtue.

Frontain, who had been a soldier since the old kingdom's days, had retired for precisely that reason.

He narrowed his already wrinkled eyes further.

“Hah? Listen, Captain. I was a major general, you know. And you ask for my cooperation? Hah! You're not even a field officer, just a company-grade officer at best... What unit are you with?”

“Classified. Furthermore, regulations do not oblige me to answer you.”

“Hah! Always hiding behind classification and regulations. A soldier ought to show a little more backbone!”

“I do not lack backbone. Furthermore, such remarks have no bearing on the present situation.”

Despite AB's answer, Frontain snorted and sneered.

“Still, you're hiding your unit because you know to be afraid of me, eh? Of course you are. Two of the current generals are men I trained! Do you think you're somebody, you mere captain? One word from me, and you might spend the rest of your career at that rank!”

Childish though it was, the threat could be quite devastating to an officer hungry for promotion.

It simply did not apply to AB. A communications officer's identity was classified and would not be disclosed. Besides, never mind promotion—even hoping to survive was asking too much for her.

“Query. Are you asking me to grant you preferential treatment as a retired officer?”

At her utterly unruffled question, Frontain flinched and mumbled, deflated.

“... Ahem. Not exactly.”

“If you are unwilling to cooperate, please say so. I will establish that fact and seek another approach.”

“When did I say I wouldn't cooperate? I was just pointing out how stiff you're being!”

Of course, anyone with even a little knowledge of how the Military State worked would know that Frontain's threat was empty. The Military State could not afford to indulge retired officers.

Frontain cleared his throat loudly, then asked with an even more displeased expression,

“Well, Captain. What do you want to know?”

“I am investigating a series of incidents occurring in the Military State's Districts 10–19. Do you know anything about the ‘Military State's Shadow’?”

An odd expression crossed the old general's face. It betrayed a complicated mixture of feelings, as though he were wondering whether they were only taking an interest now—or whether they had any interest in such matters at all.

“Hah. So the authorities are finally starting to take an interest in the back alleys? Then why not bring in the military police and turn the place upside down? That would get results.”

The Military State had taken no interest. This was strictly AB's personal investigation.

However, as a communications officer, she could pass on the information she possessed directly. That authority belonged exclusively to communications officers, and therefore had to be exercised with care.

Of course, she could not tell him that.

“Classified.”

“Hah. Of course. You can't tell a washed-up old man like me anything!”

As if insisting that a snort, too, was a kind of laugh, Frontain's was filled with dejection.

“I'll tell you. Captain, do you happen to know what they call themselves?”

“The Military State's Shadow.”

“Good. And do you know where they got that name?”

Recalling the information in her mind, AB answered half a beat later.

“The Kingdom's Shadow, is it not?”

“Exactly. Or did you suspect that from the start?”

Frontain raised his eyes slightly to study her. AB nodded in affirmation.

She was a communications officer, a specialist who handled and memorized all manner of information. Though classification prevented her from saying so, she inevitably knew more than a retired major general.

She had come to ask only because she needed confirmation.

“You're probably right. Their methods are similar.”

The old veteran made no effort to save time. Even knowing that AB already possessed the information, he began to explain.

“Long ago, the kingdom had an organization that called itself the ‘Kingdom's Shadow.’ Hyenas who did the dirty work for those strutting bastards who called themselves knights. Murder, looting, intimidation... anything the knights couldn't openly do, they handled. A sort of cleanup crew. They were notorious among soldiers as well as civilians.”

After the Peerless Spear and the rebels toppled the kingdom, the Kingdom's Shadow naturally came to light as well. It was only to be expected that the Military State would round up those evils of the old order.

“Their leader, Wolfen the ‘Umbra.’ He was imprisoned in Tantalus for years, but he's back... I'm certain of it.”

As she had suspected.

AB nodded gravely.

Wolfen Fenstein. The Umbra who had once led the Kingdom's Shadow.

The deepest darkness among all the old kingdom's ugliness.

Confined deep within Tantalus, he had escaped during the recent prison break and returned to his old base.

To the city that was both the old kingdom's capital and a desecration of it, burying it beneath concrete.

The most populous place in the Military State.

Amitengrad.

“The Military State imprisoned him in Tantalus instead of killing him. Tsk. They should've just killed him. Why bother locking him up...?”

AB knew the reason, and that information was not classified. She spoke clearly and precisely.

“As the ‘Umbra,’ he subjected his heart to a magical procedure. The instant his heart stops, the ‘Penumbras’ stationed throughout the Military State will all instigate civil unrest at once. Therefore, rather than go out of its way to kill him, the Military State decided simply to confine him in Tantalus.”

Frontain's eyes widened at the information flowing so readily from her lips.

“What? You know all about it. If you already know everything, why come ask me?”

“Classified.”

“Hah. Insolent little... Do officers these days have no respect?”

Even before a former general, AB felt neither intimidated nor ill at ease. She simply held to her principles and convictions.

Plainly dissatisfied with her attitude, Frontain could only click his tongue.

“What is the Military State's Shadow's true objective?”

“What do you think?”

AB briefly closed her eyes and organized the information.

Indiscriminate robbery. A willingness to attack even Military State officers, and organized crime.

Outlaws picking out every single thing one must never do if one wished to avoid bringing in the military police.

That was precisely what revealed their objective. AB answered,

“To bring in the military police. I believe that is their objective in itself.”

“... You've got guts and brains, but no manners...? A model soldier we've got here. A model soldier indeed.”

Having indulged in ample sarcasm, Frontain nodded.

“Correct. They mean to lure in the military police and have them sweep the back alleys clean! There's no other explanation.”

“Query. But why would they bring in the military police? Surely the military police would not turn a blind eye to them alone.”

“How should I know? Maybe they have connections among the Military State's upper ranks. In any case, they're definitely planning a cleanup. Their crimes grow more serious by the day. At this rate, they'll be attacking an officer somewhere.”

AB agreed on that point. She, of all people, had nearly suffered exactly that.

“Agreed. I, too, was attacked.”

“You were attacked? You?”

Frontain's eyes widened, and he anxiously fiddled with something in his hand.

Only then did AB realize that the object he held was a small cross.

“Then their preparations must be nearly complete. Damn, already... Surely not that far...”

Now thoroughly agitated, Frontain's expression changed, and he spoke in a deferential tone.

“Captain. I have a favor to ask.”