Lieutenant Alfred Whitmore opened his eyes, not like those belonging to Divern, and the world snapped back into sharp, excessive focus, like an image with the contrast set too high. Every blade of grass on the hill where he stood was visible with an almost painful clarity. Every crack in the stone, every stain on his guards' uniforms. That was the consequence of opening the Oculus Coccineus: heightened perception, along with all the accompanying mental disturbances.
He stood a quarter-mile from the shattered Fort Thares, his three personal guards—all Divern, Divinus 3 Vigiles—forming a protective triangle around him. They did not speak. They knew the final stage of a high-power ritual: when the user returned to full consciousness, vulnerable, and filled with side effects.
Alfred took a deep breath; the cold morning air felt like knives in his lungs. His heart pounded hard, not from physical exertion, but from psychic fatigue. Divinus 5. Coccineus. The nickname among Divern: Saint. A bitter joke. Saints weren't holy; they were just powerful enough to be considered sacred, and disturbed enough not to care.
After becoming a Divinum user, one developed mental symptoms that, if not consulted, would worsen. Like my own Paranoia, Alfred thought, recognizing the familiar symptom. His trained mind began to sort through them: the irrational anxiety that his guards would turn on him. The belief that the fortress was a larger trap. The fear that the corpses would rise and attack his own troops. All just noise. Not reality.
He rubbed his temples, feeling the strong throbbing there. Post-ritual migraine. The price to pay.
"Completed, Lieutenant," reported Sergeant Brenner, his oldest guard, a man with steady gray eyes—still Cinereus, Divinus 1, but experienced. His voice was flat, professional. No note of concern. Brenner had seen this too often.
Alfred nodded, his eyes never leaving the fortress below. From a distance, the stiff movements were still visible within the courtyard, remnants of his Divinus 5 Absolute Restraint. He called it Marionette's Strings, of course that was just a personal designation. At Divinus 4, Absolute Restraint could lock all movement of a target. At Divinus 5, he could not only lock but manipulate—pulling invisible strings of energy, turning lifeless bodies into puppets.
He could feel each corpse like an extension of his own senses. Twenty-seven puppets of flesh. All former rebels or unfortunate imperial soldiers. The sensation was revolting: cold, stiff, no pulse of life, no resistance of will. Like moving statues of mud and rotting flesh. The mental stench of death permeated despite the distance.
And the rain. That was another variation, a creative application of City Shield. At Divinus 5, City Shield wasn't just an energy barrier. It was control over the environment within a defined radius. He had condensed atmospheric water vapor, creating an unnaturally heavy, controlled precipitation. Cleansing Downpour. The goal was twofold: extinguish the fires burning the fortress after the artillery bombardment, and cleanse the area of Divinum energy residue potentially harmful to regular troops who would enter.
"Casualty report?" Alfred asked, his voice hoarser than he expected.
"Clearing teams are still entering, Lieutenant," Brenner answered. "But from initial reports: all identified rebels are now immobile. Operation Marionette's Strings was effective in disrupting and neutralizing organized resistance."
"Our casualties?"
"One early reconnaissance squad that entered before the ritual sustained minor injuries from... contact with the manipulated entities. They are out, being treated. No fatalities on our side from the ritual phase."
That was good. That was always the biggest risk: large-scale power use on a battlefield. The line between enemy and ally was thin. Absolute Restraint didn't distinguish uniforms; it only recognized pre-programmed patterns of hostile movement. But still, mistakes could happen.
"And survivors?" Alfred asked, his eyes still fixed on the fortress. White smoke still rose from the wet ruins.
Brenner was silent for a moment, listening through a low-voice comms earpiece connected to the teams below. "They report... one survivor, Lieutenant. Only one. An imperial soldier. Still alive, found in a basement, severely injured but stable."
One person. Surviving Divinus 5 power at the heart of the fortress. Alfred felt something that wasn't paranoia—a logical anomaly—tickling his mind.
"That's impossible," he murmured, more to himself.
"Field medicus confirms, Lieutenant. One soldier, preliminary identification: Johann Reth, regular infantry from Südsea Garrison. Registered as Oculus Ater."
Oculus Ater. Black. Non-user. 98% of the population. The people who should be most vulnerable to the side effects of Divinum energy exposure at Divinus 5. Absolute Restraint at Divinus 5 emitted a passive psychic pressure that could render Oculus Ater unconscious within minutes, cause vivid nightmares, or in cases of prolonged exposure, permanent mental disturbance. The Cleansing Downpour, though designed to cleanse, still carried traces of Coccineus energy—it should feel like an electrical storm to their basic senses.
But this one man survived. Alone. At the storm's epicenter.
"Bring him here," Alfred ordered, his voice firm and clear now. "I want to examine him personally before evacuation."
Brenner nodded, relaying the order. Alfred could feel the other guards' gazes—both Divinus 3 Viridis—exchanging looks. They too knew this wasn't normal.
Johann Reth was brought up the hill on an emergency stretcher, escorted by four soldiers and a field medicus. Alfred observed him with the eye of an expert—not just as an officer, but as a Divinus 5 Divern who understood the signs of energy exposure.
The soldier was young. Perhaps early twenties. Skin pale beneath layers of dried blood, dust, and soot. Black, matted hair stuck to a sweaty forehead. His breathing was labored but regular. He was unconscious, but not from psychic trauma—his body relaxed, not convulsing, not moaning like typical Divinum exposure victims.
"Check again," Alfred urged the medicus, a medical captain named Dr. Lien. He knew Lien wasn't a Divern but was trained to detect physiological signs of exposure.
"I've checked twice, Lieutenant," said Lien, his voice full of restrained curiosity. "No signs of autonomic nervous system distress. Pulse stable though weak. Pupils responsive to light, not unnaturally dilated. No bleeding from nose or ears—common with psychic exposure. He's just... severely injured physically. Second-degree burns on hands and arms, likely a fractured leg, multiple lacerations and bruising. But nothing Divinum-related."
Alfred knelt beside the stretcher, ignoring Brenner's subtle protest. He didn't touch Johann. He simply stared. Focusing his perception. Trying to sense... anything.
Johann's iris was partially open, revealing an ordinary green color. There were no flashes of unnatural, different iris colors like the blue, green, or, especially, red of a divern. A pure Oculus Ater. But how was that possible?
The wound on the soldier's chest drew his attention. The imperial blue uniform was torn, and beneath it, skin that strangely had an odd pattern. Although it seemed healed, too perfect for a battlefield context. Like a wound miraculously closed within hours, not days.
Clean.
"Lieutenant," Brenner whispered, stepping closer. "The troops below are starting to talk about him. They're calling him 'One Man's Army'. Stories are spreading about how he held out alone in the besieged fortress, fighting rebels, then surviving... what we did."
Alfred nodded slowly. The moniker was useful. Small legends like that were good for troop morale. Created heroes, gave a human narrative to victory. But in his head, alarms blared. Something was off. Something beyond statistical improbability.
He stood up, turning his gaze back to the fortress. His Absolute Restraint was fully dissolved. The corpses now lay motionless, like puppets with cut strings. The City Shield rain had stopped. The sky was clearing. Everything had gone according to operational plan.
But there was this anomaly. An unforeseen variable.
"Take him to the rear headquarters," Alfred finally decided, his voice returning to its flat, professional tone. "Prepare transport to the Division field hospital. And prepare a written report for superiors."
Brenner noted it quickly.
"In that report," Alfred continued, choosing his words carefully, "state: one survivor, named Johann Reth, regular infantry soldier, Oculus Ater. Survived the battle at Fort Thares and the subsequent Divinus 5 Divinum cleansing operation. Present medical data indicating no energy contamination or psychic trauma. Suggest: subject demonstrates extraordinary physical and psychological resilience to extreme environments. Recommend further observation, possibly as a subject for non-Divern soldier resilience programs."
The guards and medicus listened seriously. The recommendation made military sense. The Empire was always interested in humans who could survive extreme conditions—especially if they could replicate it or train it into others.
But before they left, Alfred held Brenner back with a look.
"Sergeant," he said, his voice low so only Brenner could hear. "Additional verbal report, for brigade command and above only. Not written."
Brenner nodded, his face unchanged.
"Add this: survivor shows a complete absence of Divinum traces that should be present given the exposure level. Possible anomaly in his psycho-physiological profile. Suggest discreet surveillance, class two. Not a priority threat, but... of observational interest."
"Understood, Lieutenant," Brenner nodded. He knew what 'discreet surveillance, class two' meant: monitoring without intervention, noting any oddities, but without the subject's knowledge.
They left, carrying the still-unconscious Johann. Alfred watched the stretcher being carried down the hill toward the horse-drawn ambulance waiting on the trail.
He stood alone for a moment, surrounded by his three guards who resumed their watch. The morning sun was higher now, breaking through the post-rain clouds, illuminating the ruined fortress with ironic golden light. A victory. But it felt hollow.
Alfred closed his eyes, trying to push away the remnants of paranoia still gnawing at him. Whispers that the soldier wasn't just a survivor. That he was something else. Something that might be a threat. Or something more valuable than just a research subject.
But he dismissed it. That was just the mental noise from his Divinus 5. Coccineus came with a package of irrational paranoia and suspicion. He had learned not to trust every thought of his own. That was the price of power: perpetual doubt of one's own reality.
He took a deep breath, feeling the air clean of the Divinum energy he had just released. As he opened his eyes again, he consciously drew the remaining ambient energy back into himself. The process felt like swallowing embers. Hot, painful, but familiar.
And a change occurred. In Brenner's eyes as he happened to look at him, Alfred knew what they saw: his irises, which for the past few hours had emitted a faint, pale red glow—the mark of the active Oculus Coccineus—slowly faded. The red receded like draining fluid, replaced by the ordinary earth-brown that was his natural color. The light around his body, invisible to Oculus Ater but visible to mid-level Divern, dimmed and vanished.
He was outwardly Lieutenant Alfred Whitmore again. Inside, he was still a Saint. Still Divinus 5. Still at risk of slipping into madness if not careful. But for now, he was stable.
"Brenner," he said, his voice now normal, without extra tension. "Status of the clearing teams?"
"Entering final phase, Lieutenant. Collecting weapons, identifying bodies, ensuring no remaining threats. Estimate completion in two hours."
"Good. I'll go down for a final inspection. Prepare my horse."
The ride down the hill to the fortress was made in silence. Alfred rode his horse with erect posture, but his mind churned. He passed rows of imperial soldiers at work—some carrying stretchers with bodies, others moving captured weaponry. All Oculus Ater. None of them knew what truly happened inside the fortress hours ago. They only knew that a 'special Divern operation' had cleared the place. They had seen the moving corpses from a distance, seen the sudden heavy rain, and accepted the standard explanation: 'diversion tactics and exploited weather conditions.'
That was how it worked. Divern were the Empire's secret tools. Knowledge of Divinum was a tightly controlled privilege. Ordinary people didn't need to know. Must not know. Because the knowledge itself was dangerous. Because those rituals, if learned by the wrong people, could destroy cities.
Alfred entered the partially destroyed north gate. The atmosphere inside was completely different from a distance. The dominant smell now was wetness—rainwater, mud, and beneath that, the iron scent of blood and stale flesh. The corpses of soldiers and rebels lay scattered, soaked, in unnaturally stiff poses. Some were still in standing positions when Absolute Restraint was released, then fell like logs.
He observed with a critical eye. The effects of Marionette's Strings were clear: fresh injuries on the corpses not from the battle. Twisted necks, arms broken from being forced beyond limits, dislocated joints. It wasn't intentional. Absolute Restraint at Divinus 5 wasn't designed for precision; it was designed for mass control. The side effect on the 'puppets' was physical damage.
A young soldier, perhaps seeing such results for the first time, was vomiting in a corner. Alfred didn't judge. Even for him, this wasn't an easy sight.
He dismounted, walking slowly through the inner courtyard. His eyes searched, analyzed. No signs of other Divinum activity. No traces of Warlock, Voleur, Magician, Tsar, or others. His operation was clean. The enemy was just ordinary human rebels with ordinary weapons. They had no Divern on their side—or if they did, they had fled before the power was used.
Then, how did Johann Reth survive?
Alfred approached the doorway to the basement where Johann was found. The steps were wet and slippery. Below, it was dark, smelling of earth and mold. He used an oil lamp. Its light illuminated an empty room except for some broken crates and puddles.
No signs of battle here. No fresh blood other than a few drops from the stretcher that carried Johann out. So the soldier hid here. But hiding alone wasn't enough. The energy of Absolute Restraint and Cleansing Downpour penetrated stone walls. He should have felt it.
Unless...
Unless he was immune.
Or unless something protected him.
Alfred crouched, touching the cold stone floor. He focused again, trying to sense residual energy. There were faint traces of Marionette's Strings—like echoes of a long-stopped bell. But no trace of resistance, no trace of protection. Empty.
He sighed, standing up. His paranoia whispered again: Maybe he's not human. Maybe he's another entity in disguise. Maybe he's an enemy experiment. But there was no evidence. Just statistical impossibility.
He decided to stop the investigation here. He had made his recommendation. Surveillance would be conducted. Now, he had other responsibilities: ensuring the clearing operation finished, then reporting to headquarters.
He went back up into the light. Brenner waited with his horse.
"All normal, Lieutenant?"
"All normal, Sergeant," Alfred answered, mounting the saddle. "Continue according to protocol. I'll return to camp to prepare the full report."
The ride back to the main imperial camp in the valley was at a moderate pace. Alfred passed rows of tents, artillery, and resting troops. A victorious mood was palpable—light shouts, laughter, distribution of extra rations. They thought they had just won a hard-fought conventional battle. They didn't know the victory was guaranteed by a few minutes of Divinus 5 power that could shatter its user's mind.
In his command tent, Alfred sat at a simple table and began writing. The first official report: for his direct superior, Colonel Varga, a Divinus 4 Vigiles Divern.
"To Colonel Varga,
I hereby report that the siege operation of Fort Thares in the Thares Mountains has been fully completed.
In the execution of the operation, I utilized Divinum capabilities to ensure the siege progressed effectively and to minimize casualties on the imperial side. The rituals of Absolute Restraint and City Shield were applied to lock enemy movement and prevent unnecessary structural damage. It should be noted that all rebel elements in the mountainous area were individuals without Divinum capabilities.
Casualty Report:
Imperial Forces: 150 fallen
Rebel Forces: 350 killed
With the fall of Fort Thares, it can be confirmed that all rebel cells in the Selevia area have been successfully eliminated.
There is one imperial infantry soldier who survived until the end of the siege under extreme conditions and demonstrated combat capacity exceeding regular unit standards. Based on the testimony of other troops, this individual is now nicknamed "One Man's Army."
I recommend that promotion and special evaluation be promptly considered for this soldier.
This report is hereby submitted.
In the name of the Lahelu Empire,
2 February 1631, Year of Woland."
He sealed the report with special wax that could only be opened by the authorized recipient.
When he finished, the sun was high in the sky. Brenner entered with the final report from the field.
"Clearing completed, Lieutenant. All bodies gathered for cremation. Weapons and equipment confiscated. The fortress declared secure and will be occupied by a small garrison within days."
"Final casualties?"
"Seventeen of our soldiers wounded in the initial battle before power was manifested. No fatalities after that. On the rebel side... all inside the fortress are dead. Estimated three hundred and fifty souls."
Three hundred and fifty. With one Divinus 5 ritual. Alfred nodded, emotionless. That was why Divern were strategic assets. That was why they were protected, isolated, and ultimately, mentally disturbed. They were weapons of mass destruction in human form.
"And Soldier Reth?" Alfred asked.
"Already en route to Division 7 field hospital, Lieutenant. Condition stable throughout the journey."