Experience the havoc of battle through the eyes of one brave Empire soldier
It was the taste of blood that woke Ōshiro Minori. It coated the inside of her mouth as she came to, her eyes fluttering open as though in slow motion. Minori was face down on the ground, her face smeared with dark soil and her pitch black hair—only moments ago tied up in a tight bun beneath her olive field cap—was loose and matted with dirt, thin strands clinging to her pale, glistening scalp.
With painful exertion, she forced herself up. She felt the weight of the sashimono banner on her back as its blood-red fabric caught the breeze, the draconic symbol of the Empire fluttering proudly against the night sky above.
Minori’s head throbbed as she looked around. Shapes drifted in and out of focus. Echoing sounds assailed her. Only two things were certain. She was surrounded by flames. And she could hear the sound of battle.
Squinting beyond the flames that licked the thick air around her, Minori started to make out shapes in the night. She saw blocks of Green Banner infantry, marching in lockstep behind heavy metal shields. Towering above them, giant Yaksha superheavy transports—more akin to fortresses than tanks—disgorged lion-dog automata directly into the heart of an unseen enemy. Overhead, Doksuri fighters screamed through the choking black sky, unleashing staccato bursts of cannonfire into the armies below. Minori steadied herself. Where was she…?
Suddenly, high above, she watched as great blue rifts tore the dark clouds apart, shimmering pools of unreality, through which enemy aircraft soared alongside scarab-like flying automata, immediately engaging the Doksuri in battle. The effect was disorienting, like creatures emerging from a rippling pool of water.
Minori remembered her ashigaru field training. Strategy. Weapons. The tactics of the enemy. Namely, the pōtaru used by the Sultanate, passages rent in the fabric of reality, through which troops and vehicles could pass…
The Sultanate. Yes, she remembered now. They had come here to fight the Sultanate.
Steeling herself, Minori started scanning the ground before she found what she was looking for. She reached down and grabbed her teppo rifle, cleaning it off and instinctively checking the chamber. There were seven rounds left. She reached around to check her pack. Full. Good.
Grounding herself in her surroundings, Minori turned to look over her shoulder. She froze. She was on the edge of a flaming crater. The blackened earth was charred and full of burning bodies, twisted teppo rifles and, fluttering in the fire, red banners identical to hers. At its centre, she saw the skeletal ruins of a Zhurong heavy incinerator.
It all came flooding back. The pōtaru that appeared in their midst. The scarab automaton that descended, unseen, from above. Its blue core, glowing before the pōtaru had exploded outwards, the blast igniting the fuel of Zhurong’s lóng xī cannon in a fiery detonation.
Minori was shaken from her reverie as an almighty explosion illuminated the sky above. Shielding her eyes, she looked upwards, observing a streak of fire as a Doksuri cut apart an enemy vehicle with a devastating strafing run. Seemingly suspended in the clouds, the vehicle hung silently for just a moment, before it began to fall towards the ground. Closer. And closer. And closer…
Almost too late, Minori threw herself to one side as the destroyed vehicle crashed nearby, sending up a geyser of blackened soil and twisted metal. Breathing heavily, Minori began to rise. Lying before her, cushioned in the earth, was one of the scarab automata that had wiped out her company. Concentric brass rings around its engine whirred pathetically, while at its centre, like some alien heart, its glowing blue core sputtered. Even in this facsimile of death, the machine continued to twitch with an approximation of life.
Seven. She fired a round into its armour. The whirring stopped. After a moment’s pause, Minori looked up. She was alone. If she couldn’t find her regiment, she would not survive the night.
Then, ahead of her, she saw a heavily armoured figure surrounded by dead soldiers, his katana dripping with blood. Silhouetted against the blinding flames, she would recognise his frame anywhere. He was one of the Bushi Ryu, leader of the ashigaru and the chosen of Empress Shinzua.
“Masutā!” she cried, her voice barely carrying above the flames.
Her master turned towards her. Even against the shadow of the flames, she saw the recognition from his eyes beneath his helmet. He extended a hand. Relief flooded over Minori.
“Ā, masutā,” she exclaimed, as she stumbled towards him. “Kansha itashimasu-”
Thnk.
Minori halted. Even from across the field, she knew the unmistakable sound of metal through flesh. Helpless, she watched as her master’s silhouette began to rise off the ground, as though floating of its own accord. Only as his body turned did she see the curved blade through his chest, glinting in the firelight.
Holding this blade, she saw another figure emerging from the flames. Clad in golden plate and white cloth, its face was hidden entirely by a gleaming, statuesque mask, perfect in its beauty. For a moment, meeting its azure eyes against the flames, Minori was struck by something akin to awe. Euphoria. A desire for worship. She knew deep down, this was no man. It was a celestial being. A Tenshi. A holy saviour descended from the heavens themselves and wreathed in… wreathed in…
Dread. Fear. Her veins froze. No. She knew what these creatures were. She had heard their name whispered by her fellow ashigaru: Cor Caroli.
Her eyes brimming with tears, Minori screamed and fired. Six.
She watched in horror as the bullet glanced ineffectually off of the Cor Caroli’s armour. There was a moment’s pause before her master’s corpse hit the ground, the creature lunging towards her. Panicking, Minori fired again. She had never seen something so large move so quickly. Five. The bullet found its mark beneath the creature’s armour, fizzling away with cerulean energy.
Before she could fire again, the beast was upon her, sweeping its giant arm and sending her flying across the dirt as her rifle discharged. Four. Crying out in pain as her right leg snapped in two, Minori tried to get back up, letting loose an accidental shot (three) before falling again. It was no use. She was trapped.
Her face smeared with blood and ash, Minori turned to face her attacker. It observed her passively, before slowly beginning to advance. Minori gave an involuntary whimper of fear. As her death loomed ever closer, she saw the ruins of the Zhurong. She saw her fellow ashigaru. Her master. And beside the Cor Caroli… the ruins of the crashed automata, its blue core still glowing. Pulsing.
Shakily, Minori raised her rifle and, aiming past the monster, pulled the trigger. Two. The bullet ricocheted off the automaton’s exterior. The Cor Caroli’s shadow loomed over her, its eyes blazing. One last chance. She looked once more at the automaton and its weakening, glowing blue core, before taking a deep, steady breath.
The Cor Caroli raised its sword. Minori pulled the trigger.
One.
From behind the Cor Caroli, there was a deafening implosion. Caught off guard, Minori instinctively let go of her rifle, and watched as it flew out of her hands towards where the automaton had lain only seconds ago. With a slowly rising roar, the machine was tearing itself apart, drawing everything within its orbit into a yawning tear in reality that was forming in its centre: earth, corpses, weapons and detritus alike.
Before it could register this new threat, the Cor Caroli was thrust backwards. Frantically grabbing at anything nearby in hope of an anchor, the creature impacted against the growing fissure, and Minori watched as its armour dented, its limbs bent backwards, and its spine folded in on itself, as finally, it was pulled through into nothingness.
The roar subsided. The flames did not. Minori allowed her head to fall to the ground. The sashimono on her back was broken. Yet, she, Ōshiro Minori, ashigaru of Empress Shinzua, was not.
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