UCT Ch 6
by toujoursA month passed like a flowing river—no, like a colossal tidal wave crashing down.
Juom’s forces crumbled at an almost absurd speed. It was no exaggeration to call it a one-sided onslaught by Arche.
No one had expected Juom to collapse so easily. Bringerton hurriedly provided supplies and reinforcements, but the war situation remained unfavorable for Juom.
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Only a month ago, The Royal Bringerton newspaper had maintained an optimistic tone, but it gradually grew more and more despairing.
[Prime Minister’s Office Exclusive Statement: We Must Prepare for Every Possible Situation…]
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[Peace Treaty Ends in Utter Failure! Prime Minister Under Fire as Parliament Faces a Political Storm!]
[Dietrich I—Following in His Father’s Footsteps? Exposing the Cruelty Within the Archean Imperial Family]
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[Full Blackout Enforced in 20 Major Cities, Public Anxiety Skyrockets]
[Juom’s Military Command Requests Deployment of Bringerton Fighter Jets and Pilots!]
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“……”
The front page of today’s newspaper featured a photo of King Marianne encouraging young men to enlist.
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She was dressed in military uniform, shaking hands with a recruitment officer.
Bringerton’s atmosphere over the past month had become downright grim.
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Maps were banned from sale due to concerns about espionage, and anti-air defenses were rapidly being constructed.
The capital was reportedly turning into a vast military base, bristling with anti-aircraft guns like the spines of a sea urchin, with searchlights scattered everywhere.
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Compared to the capital, Campton was far less fortified—even though it was much closer to Arche.
It had simply been deprioritized in terms of strategic importance.
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The citizens of Campton lived in fear, a constant tension hanging over the city as they braced for attack at any moment.
Posters featuring a cartoon detective holding a magnifying glass were plastered on walls, urging: “Report any suspicious individuals immediately!”
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Seated in a dim corner of a tavern, Diana flipped through the newspaper with a soft rustle.
An advertisement spread across both pages caught her eye.
A poster featuring uniformed women standing at attention in front of a plane, saluting.
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Bold letters dominated the center:
[Women’s Flight Auxiliary Corps Now Recruiting! Patriotic Women of Bringerton—Defend Your Family and Country!]
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Ah. She felt a brief shortness of breath.
Diana scrutinized the advertisement carefully.
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[Administrative Duties
Maintenance Work
Transport Operations (Short-Term Aviation School Course Required)]
From the wording alone, it wasn’t clear exactly what the job entailed.
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‘Administrative duties? Like a typist’s job?’
Her pale green eyes darkened into a deep shade of emerald.
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She was just about to tear out the advertisement when a concerned voice called from the counter.
“Diana, are you alright?”
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“Yes, Aunt Gilda. Why?”
“You’ve been sitting there all day, just staring at that newspa—”
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— Swoooosh!
A sharp, piercing sound ripped through the sky. A shrill tearing noise that sliced through the air.
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Diana reacted instantly. She ran toward Gilda.
“Diana?”
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The puzzled look on Gilda’s face told her that no one else had heard that sound.
‘Why? I definitely heard something—no, I felt something…’
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‘Mind-melding?’
‘If this isn’t just my imagination… If it really is mind-melding, then this means—’
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Her whole body screamed. Her limbs, her mind, every nerve.
‘It’s a bombing.’
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Diana, realizing the situation, turned to Gilda with a dazed expression and said,
“Take cover.”
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But it was too late.
— BOOM!!!
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— CRASH!!!
A deafening explosion rocked the building, shaking the very ground beneath them. The force was overwhelming.
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Screams of terror were instantly drowned out by the chaos.
“AAAAAHHHH!!!”
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“AAAHHHH!”
Enemy air raid.
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The moment she understood, she stopped thinking. Action was all that remained.
Diana seized Gilda’s hand with a firm grip, dragging her toward the exit of The Dancing Mermaid.
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Just as they were about to escape, another sharp, wailing sound—like the horn of a train—pierced the air.
The screech of a bomber in a dive.
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This time, she was certain—she could hear it with her own ears.
The explosion followed immediately after. Fire erupted. The acrid stench of gunpowder filled the air.
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Before she knew it, Diana and Gilda were sprawled on the ground, covered in a thick layer of white dust.
Diana struggled to her feet, shaking off the debris.
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She turned to check on Gilda—and froze.
Shards of shattered glass, blown apart by the blast, had embedded themselves all over Gilda’s face.
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Crimson blood streaked down the pale dust coating her skin.
Gilda swayed, her breath hitching in pain.
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“It hurts… It hurts…”
‘Stay calm.’
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Stay calm. Diana repeated the words in her mind like a mantra. Three times.
Her thoughts cleared.
She pulled Gilda up and shouted urgently,
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“Auntie! We have to get to the shelter now!”
“No, no… I can’t, I can’t…”
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Gilda’s eyes were vacant, unfocused.
She was in shock—paralyzed by the terror of her first air raid.
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Trembling, she whimpered,
“Ben… Ben!”
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Gilda turned back toward the tavern, attempting to re-enter. But she stopped dead in her tracks.
Thick, black smoke billowed in front of The Dancing Mermaid, shrouding everything in darkness.
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Diana instinctively knew what she had to do.
She stepped in front of Gilda, blocking her path, and shouted,
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“Auntie, I’ll get Uncle! You need to go to the shelter now!”
“But Ben—”
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“Hurry! There’s no time!”
However, this was no time for further argument. The bombers continued their relentless assault, dropping bomb after bomb. Campton had descended into utter chaos and pandemonium in an instant.
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Diana summoned every ounce of her strength and shoved Martin forward. Without looking back, she dashed into The Dancing Mermaid.
She didn’t want to lose any more family.
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🌷🌷🌷
The interior of The Dancing Mermaid was in complete disarray. The glassware and dishes were all shattered, and the hall was thick with the white dust that Diana had been covered in earlier. Diana covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve as she pushed forward.
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“Uncle Ben!!! Ben!!!”
She tried to recall where Ben had been just moments ago. He had probably been transporting ingredients to the kitchen. If she found him there, they could escape through the back door. Without hesitation, she headed toward the kitchen.
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Since the building was made of brick, it wasn’t likely to catch fire easily. But she couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be additional explosions or bombings. She had to move as quickly as possible.
Pushing through the acrid smoke, she reached the kitchen and spotted Uncle Ben lying unconscious on the floor. She dropped to her knees, hastily checking his pulse and breathing. Both were normal.
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Diana exhaled in relief, then shook Ben’s shoulders and patted his cheeks.
“Mm…” “Uncle, wake up! We have to get out of here now!”
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Relief flickered in her chest when he started regaining consciousness, but it was short-lived.
Just as he seemed about to rise, his body stiffened and began to tremble. His unfocused eyes darted aimlessly, like a broken compass.
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He began muttering incoherently to himself.
‘No… don’t leave us…’ “Uncle?” ‘No. I don’t want this. Stop…’
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The strength in Diana’s hands faltered as she gripped his shoulders.
She knew exactly what she was witnessing.
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She had seen it in the trenches, at sea, and even in the skies. She knew what happened to soldiers exposed to extreme terror for prolonged periods.
Uncle Ben was in shell shock.
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The trauma of the Great Continental War, which he had fought in twenty-five years ago, had completely overtaken him. But knowing the cause didn’t mean Diana knew how to snap him out of it.
Once again, a massive sense of helplessness crushed down on her.
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Outside, another explosion rang out. Dust rained down from the ceiling with a dull pattering sound.
Diana snapped back to her senses, gripped Ben’s shoulders, and shook him with every ounce of strength she had.
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“Uncle!”
Thankfully, after several tries, Ben started to come around. His vacant eyes slowly regained focus. Diana seized the moment to urge him again.
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“Uncle, Campton is being bombed right now!”
“…Diana! Where’s Gilda? Your aunt…?”
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“Aunt Gilda went to the shelter with Mr. Martin! We need to join them right now!”
Diana helped the staggering Ben to his feet, grabbed his hand, and sprinted toward the back door. The thick smoke stung her lungs, making it impossible to take a proper breath.
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Campton, lacking a subway system, had its air raid shelters located in an open field near the city’s cemetery. Calling them “shelters” was generous; they resembled burrows dug by rodents.
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After the Prime Minister’s declaration of war, civil servants and local men had hastily dug pits large enough to fit five people, covering them with bent metal panels. Dozens of these crude shelters dotted the area.
Having barely escaped the city’s nightmarish chaos, Diana and Ben sprinted toward the shelters at full speed. Their lungs burned, the taste of iron coating their throats.
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The cries and screams of people around them threatened to shatter their sanity.
Reaching the cemetery, Diana turned to look back for the first time since their escape.
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Under the bright blue sky, countless plumes of black smoke curled into the air like a mirage. The sight shook her to her core.
Above the city, dozens of bombers painted in ominous black streaked through the sky like a deadly waltz. Her lips parted slightly, and a name slipped out like a curse.
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“…Parnas.”
Once the vice-commander of the White Hawk Order, he had restructured the group into the Golden Eagle Order after Fernan’s death, rising to the rank of Air Marshal.
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A vivid memory surfaced—his face, twisted in a smirk as he drove a knife into her back.
‘You think you’re some kind of knight of justice? Just because you flew in the air instead of mowing people down with a machine gun? Don’t delude yourself, you hypocrite.’
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She had thought she had forgotten. But in truth, she hadn’t forgotten a single thing.
Memories of her past life pierced her heart like thousands of sharp glass shards. It was just like when she was twelve—when she first remembered her previous life.
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Her first flight, her first kill, the first medal she received, meeting Tersion, betrayal, the days of torture.
Every moment from her past came rushing back, vividly playing out before her eyes like a film she had seen just a month ago.
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‘I only ever wanted to live in peace.’
Simply, with the people she loved.
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“Was that so wrong?”
A curse-like whisper escaped her lips.
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“Why…?”
Behind her, Ben’s urgent voice called out.
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“Diana!!!”
The prolonged breath-holding made her head spin. Diana inhaled sharply, turning her gaze forward again. On the horizon, she spotted tiny black specks.
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Her pupils contracted.
Bringerton fighter planes—scrambling to intercept the enemy bombers.
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A crushing weight, as if giant claws had seized her heart, tightened around her chest.
Her resolve crystallized in an instant.
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‘I will do what I can.’