The corridors of the Nightfall are quiet, like every cemetery, and have a quiet atmosphere. You can't hear loud talk or anything, and laughter is scarce here.

There was supposed to be a funeral here - but, no.

There was no funeral.

The dead had long since been buried, and the Nightblades watched their bodies disappear into nothingness in the arms of the Black Flame.

They were not sad in their hearts, and for some reason, they always felt that this would not be the last time they would see their brother. Their hunch was correct, but it has not yet been proven.

Siani from Terra walked towards an office in one of his new uniforms, his expression serious, but it was just his usual thoughtful expression.

Everyone has different habits, and the action you do while thinking is one of them. Some people like to tap on the table as they think, or bow their heads in deep thought.

For Siani, he puts on a serious face so everyone knows he's thinking — in other words, 'don't bother me.'

Of course, not everyone was willing to give him a chance to think, at least not in Richter's mind.

The swordsmanship master of the Eighth Company walked across the corridor with a thick stack of papers in his hand, and the encounter should have been dramatic, after all, you would hardly see these two men at the same time outside of the training ground.

But Richter didn't seem willing to extend the drama, and he shattered Siani's musings and his serious expression with a straight sentence.

"You look like you're thinking."

“.”

Siani looked up wordlessly, expressing his emotions in the moment with a traditional Gutera gesture - and in response, Richter only smiled faintly, still holding the papers, his expression calm, as if he had just not applied any taunt to his brother.

"Where are you going?" He asked. "It's rare to be dressed so formally, I have the impression that you wear training clothes most of the time."

"I'm going to the instructor's office." Siani glanced at Hitt with interest, and a group of stars flashed outside the porthole.

"He has a mission for us, and my company commander is there right now. What about those documents you have, Richter? Did you work part-time? ”

Richtenor took a deep breath.

That's a good ripost, Siani, but my wishes are not the same as yours. These documents are also from the instructor, who and the original seem to have a new vision for us, and these—"

Richter raised his arm so that the document could cover his face: "—that's the concrete situation that was envisaged." ”

"In other words, this is a reform?"

"It's normal for the original to have other demands on us, as for the word reform. I don't know. Richter shook his head and walked away.

The last thing he threw at Siani was an invitation: "See you at the training ground in the evening." ”

Siani decided to see this as a provocation, and he intended to confront Richter with the same fury as he did with the things on the Harcosus 1 - his expression couldn't help but become a little darker at the thought of this.

Six minutes later, he arrived at Karil Lohals's office.

The door was open, as if he had known he was coming. Siani stepped inside, his boots deliberately colliding against the metal floor, sending out a dull echo as a reminder.

As always, Carlil Lohals sat at the back of the grim iron table, writing with a quill pen, and a chair fitting Astarte's figure was placed across the table. He heard the reminder, but he didn't look up, just spoke quietly.

"Sit down, Siani, you're coming quickly."

"But not fast enough." Siani sat down, her back straight, but her tone was a little brisk. "How many am I here, instructor?"

"The second."

"That is, that bastard is the first again?"

“.”

Carlil finally raised his head, his expression a little complicated: "I remember that you guys are on good terms, Siani. Why do you call Richter that? ”

"Because of some historical reasons." Siani said solemnly - by the way, he was not thinking about it at this time.

"You don't know, instructor, but Richtenar is very arrogant for the most part, I mean, he's an arrogant bastard with eyes on the top of his head."

"I don't see where his arrogance is."

"Of course you can't see it." Siani snorted. "He's pretty polite in front of you."

Carlil didn't reply, and he lowered his head again so that his current expression would not be seen by Siani. He began to write, and after a dozen seconds, he pulled out the piece of paper and handed it to Siani.

"Let's take a look." Carlil said. "At least I hope you'll finish this summary here—it will help you understand what is going on, Siani."

What happens next?

Siani felt a subtle uneasiness at the remark, and he reached out to take the hard paper, and it felt rather uncomfortable to hold it in his hand, which was the will of those who made it.

They deliberately made the paper hard and thick, with a rough surface, so that it could be sold for a higher price—the Empire usually valued paper by weight, and few of the families responsible for making it were not interested in profit.

But that wasn't the most thing Siani should have thought about right now, and he began to read, the first line of his eyes puzzled him.

'Specific discussions on future conscription. ’

Siani quickly looked up and looked at Karil - "Instructor, are we going to start recruiting?" ”

"Of course." Carlil said. "But not now, at least wait until we get back to Nostramo, let's see, Siani."

Siani did as he was told, and after a few minutes, when he raised his head again, his expression had become quite strange: "The twentieth operation.?" ”

Carlil nodded calmly.

"Yes, the twentieth operation, but it doesn't really have much to do with surgery, it's just a ritual. But, in order to cover our eyes, we will declare it the twentieth procedure – and of course, usually, we don't mention it. ”

He gestured thoughtfully to Siani, his eyes rather meaningful, "Unless someone asks about it." ”

"And then we'll say it's the twentieth operation?"

"No, we don't mention it." Carlil said. "Because the twentieth surgery doesn't exist, unless someone asks about it."

Siani nodded with a complicated expression, lowered his head and began to read.

Please note that the twentieth surgery itself does not have any material impact or change on the patient's body. It is a ritual, which can also be called a trial. ’

'The twentieth procedure should be performed before the commencement of any modification, not after the nineteenth procedure. When the twentieth procedure begins, the patient enters a sleep-like state, but they are not actually asleep. ’

They will dream, they may sleepwalk, they may even enter a state of abnormal rage, all of this is normal, one of the possible side effects of the twentieth surgery. ’

The duration of the operation is uncertain, however, only if the recipient passes the operation will they be able to truly become the reserve of the Midnight Blade and undergo subsequent modification surgeries. ’

Siani put down the file and let out a sigh: "Instructor. ”

"Huh?"

"May I ask what the twentieth surgery is?" Siani asked solemnly. "I know this kind of thing should be kept secret and no details should be revealed too much, but. Trials? I don't understand, instructor. ”

"It's just a more alternative selection method." Carlil replied softly.

He stood up and paced slowly to the porthole of his office.

Eight flags still fluttered on the walls, and the air was cold, as always. Outside the porthole, the stars twinkled, and Carlil gazed at them calmly through the glass, and saw his own shadow in the glass, and Siani's waiting figure.

He continued.

"Siani, you've seen what happened on the Harcosus One, and you've heard the oath that Conrad Coetz took in the face of those things, and you swore it yourself."

He turned his head, and there was a look on the side face that he showed to Siani. The latter's heart sank, and he nodded heavily.

"So you know very well what kind of enemy we might have to face in the future, but those possible reserves are different."

He turned completely and leaned against the wall with a calm expression.

"They may be of great quality, determined will, and will be tempered into truly good warriors in the years to come—but we will face more than war, Siani."

"Those things can't be resisted by willpower alone, so they also need to make vows. A ritual, a trial, a blood oath. They will know what they are going to face and they will know their possible ends, and we just need these people who have seen everything clearly but are still willing to accept it, we need . Hatred. ”

Siani nodded silently. His instructors wore thin uniforms, and shadows spread across the ground in the soft light. Siani looked at his shadow, and a subtle feeling seemed to sweep through it, like a low sigh, or an encouraging gaze.

We're still there. The dead said in a low voice. And we will always be until the end of hatred.

Siani stood up and said hoarsely: "Yes, instructor, we need hatred. ”

He turned and walked away - until Carlil said with a cry and a smile: "Siani, you are gone now, what about these documents of the First Connection?" ”

“.”

Siani, from Terra, walked back from the hallway with a blank face, carrying a pile of papers, and the sound of hurried footsteps.

There is one more chapter.

(End of chapter)