Chapter #57: Double Chapter — The Scales of Truth
The cold of Drachma was no different from that of Briggs, yet it carried something else: a hostile stillness, as if the snow itself were listening, memorizing every word spoken upon it.
In a vast chamber built of blackened steel, military symbols carved into its walls, Snake and Armd stood before the General of Drachma. The man—tall, gray-bearded—studied a map spread across the table, pins marking strategic points throughout the North.
"Well done," he said without looking up. "Did you accomplish what I ordered?"
Snake inclined his head slightly, a crooked smile barely visible beneath his hood.
"Yes, sir. The sprouts were planted at key locations. When the second infiltration begins, Briggs won't know what hit it."
Armd crossed his arms, his stance firm—almost proud.
"We also set up a scapegoat. They'll look inward, not outward. The North always devours itself."
The General nodded slowly.
"Perfect. Briggs will fall not by force… but by distrust."
At that moment, far in the distance, a red light cut through the gray sky. A flare.
The General frowned.
"That's not normal. A signal in that sector…" He raised his gaze. "Snake. Armd. Investigate. If it's an error, confirm it. If not… eliminate it."
"At once," both replied in unison.
Dawn found Olivier Mira Armstrong and Major Buccaneer rising from their improvised camp. Snow had partially buried the extinguished fire and their tracks from the night before.
"We need to return to the base," Olivier said, tightening her coat. "Falken is waiting for any excuse to pass judgment."
Buccaneer grunted as he fitted the glove over his automail.
"I don't like the idea of running back like prey. But I don't want a bullet for desertion either."
They hadn't taken ten steps when the air split apart.
Armd burst from the snow like a primal beast. The blow was direct—brutal. Buccaneer barely managed to raise his arm before being hurled several meters back.
"Buccaneer!" Olivier shouted.
From the crest of a nearby hill, Snake watched, eyes gleaming.
"So you didn't die…" he murmured. "Then this will be my moment."
He sprinted downhill, shedding his cloak. The fabric fell away, revealing arms covered in overlapping scales—irregular layers that reflected light like living metal. Not a complete mutation, but something worse. Something unnatural.
He leapt.
He crashed down on Olivier with violent force.
"I had to come kill you with my own hands, Colonel."
Olivier rolled through the snow and answered with a double kick, driving him back before rising, sword in hand.
"What a shame," she said coldly. "You're late."
Buccaneer struggled to his feet. Armd stood before him, staring intently.
"I thought you were dead," Buccaneer said in disbelief.
"Buccaneer…" Armd repeated. "So you're still alive, you bastard."
The punch came straight to the chin—sharp, powerful.
Buccaneer responded by tearing off his coat, revealing his automail arm, shaped like a crocodile's jaw—heavy, brutal.
"Too bad I only brought this arm," he growled. "But it'll be enough."
Armd tilted his head.
"What happened to the other one?"
"A bear."
For the first time, Armd smiled.
"Sorry, my friend… but I'm stronger than a bear."
The clash of fists thundered like cannon fire. Metal against flesh. Flesh against metal. Every blow sent snow, blood, and steam into the air.
Snake moved with impossible agility, slipping past Olivier's sword strikes.
"Try harder, Colonel," he taunted. "Can't you see you're fighting for your life?"
A blow came down with inhuman force, driving her back. Snake reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out several sprouts.
He touched them.
The transmutation was instant.
"How…?" Olivier thought. "Without a circle?"
"Very simple," he said, reading her expression. "I tried to revive my beloved. A woman who never saw me for my appearance… only for who I was."
His voice turned bitter.
"A rare illness took her from me. That's why I studied botanical alchemy—searching for an answer. I found the ritual of human transmutation… and I performed it."
Olivier clenched her teeth.
"I saw the Truth," he continued. "It took nothing from me. It only gave me this."
He gestured to his scaled body.
"A side effect. Altered skin… and hands capable of transmuting without a circle."
Olivier spat blood onto the snow.
"I don't give a damn about your tragedy."
She lunged forward and drove her sword into his stomach.
Snake dropped to his knees, unconscious.
"Monsters always believe their pain justifies them," she murmured.
Olivier ran to Buccaneer. Armd had him pinned to the ground—but hesitated. He didn't want to kill him.
"Buccaneer!" she shouted.
Then Armd appeared through the snow, weapon raised.
Olivier fired.
Armd jumped.
The bullet struck his body.
"How did you know…?" Buccaneer gasped. "How did you know he'd jump?"
Olivier lowered the weapon slowly.
"I didn't," she said. "I just wanted you to fight seriously. I figured a scare would wake you up."
Buccaneer clenched his teeth.
"Always so straightforward, Colonel."
Armd collapsed onto the snow, bleeding, but still conscious. He looked at Olivier.
"So… you were the one getting in the way."
"And you," she replied, "are the ghost Falken uses to justify his war."
Silence closed in around them, heavy as the snow.
Because in that moment, they all understood an uncomfortable truth:
the real battle was not between Briggs and Drachma,
but between memory, guilt…
and what one is willing to sacrifice to avoid facing them.
End of chapter