For as long as One-six can remember, ever since that first fragment of memory, they’ve always been told that the war will never end.

The war was their everything, their whole world revolved around the war.

Never were they told why they fought, never did they question why they fought.

They didn’t bother to ask when the fighting will end, because that question simply didn’t seem important to them.

They were just told to fight, and fight, and fight.

And so when they were presented with the prospect of the war ending, it took everyone very, very off-guard.

No one bothered to ask what they were going to do after the war ended. No one bothered to wonder what their purpose would be when the fighting finally stopped.

Afterall, they were taught to think about how to fight, and not about anything else.

“Now arriving at: Transfer Central,” the automated broadcast inside the maglev cabin spoke loudly through the meshed speakers.

The maglev decelerated, the lights outside the windows flashed by slower and slower, until they disappeared altogether to reveal the broad platform of Transfer Central.

With a beeping warning tone and a clunk, the glass doors of the maglev slid open, and One-six and his team stepped out amongst the bustling crowd of people.

They made their way out of the station and into the refreshing night air, stopping for a moment to look around at the buildings and get their bearings. For One-six and Two-six, it was their second time here. For One-five and Two-five, it was their first.

One-six reached into his pocket and pulled out a little strip of paper. On it was printed in luminescent ink their task for the night. It was all pretty trivial things, like going to another squadron’s base to pick up spare parts, or to deliver some messages to another officer somewhere. None of them would require them leaving the military complex, but here they were, outside the entrance of Transfer Central, in front of the great city, after they decided that it was worth going to Amsterdam Street after all.

*****

“So what now?” Two-five had asked him. “You haven’t considered that have you?”

He shook his head.

“So what now? Do we go find whoever Takeshi told us to? Do we sit and play along until the end? Do we rebel?”

“Listen,” One-five cut in sternly. “We still do not know for sure what will happen once the war ends. We still do not know for sure wether the war will even end or not.”

“So we do nothing?”

“No… we go find whoever Takeshi wants us to meet, and hope that we can get some more answers.”

Everyone was stunned at what One-five had said. Out of all four of them, One-five seemed the least likely to come up with a plan like that. One-six realized that that must be the first time he’s seen One-five show willingness to break rules.

“Especially with whatever assignment Captain Steiner just gave us. We now have permission to go out those doors and into the city.”

It made perfect sense, what One-five was saying. It certainly was the perfect chance for them to do something like that. With permission to leave, they essentially have an entire night to do whatever they wanted.

“But then we won’t have time to complete whatever assignment we have. If we complete the assignment, we end up not knowing anything more. But if we don’t complete our assignment, we might be punished and they might even find out that we are pretty much traitors. They have trackers on us for these sorts of missions. Where ever we go they’ll know.”

“So it’s either a good chance that we will die, or a very very good chance that we will die.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that is a risk I am willing to take.”

“But what value is that risk? Does it matter? Will it change anything?”

“Having the ability to do something, in my opinion, is of value, regardless of the outcome.”

There was silence for a good while.

“So it’s decided then? We’ll be going to meet whoever this person is?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it almost certainly means that we will be punished?”

“Yes.”

*****

Captain Steiner smiled to himself as he gently lifted his ear from the door and walked away briskly down the hallway. He knew it; he had been right from the start.

Luckily the time was late enough that their dorm wing was relatively quiet, so no one was there to see him eavesdropping. Dorms located in the same section normally got missions at the same times of day, just so they can rest in relative silence. A seemingly smart idea which was meant to help them fight more effectively, also allowed him to spy on his own pilots more easily.

Oh the irony, he thought as he walked towards his own office.

*****

Before, when they did not know of The Weapon’s existence, things felt much more relaxed, much more forgiving. But now, with the knowledge that they had, at best, a week or so left, everything seemed to have a desperate finality to them.

“What are the chances that tonight turns out to be worthwhile?” One-five asked as they stood there, looking up at the night sky looming over the towering skyscrapers of Europa.

“I don’t know.”

“And what if it turns out to be a dead end?” Two-six asked.

“Well, then we just fight and die like we are meant to,” One-five replied.

They walked out of the square and towards some parked cars, their silvery skin reflecting the boney white glow of the street lamps.

“Come on then…” One-six told his team. “Where ever we are headed, let’s just hope it doesn’t waste more of what little time we still have left.”

So they boarded a car which was parked there, One-five and Two-five getting startled a little when the voice said their names and asked for their destination. One-six read out the address scribbled onto the little slip of paper, and they sped off into the city in a current of other vehicles.

*****

“You have arrived at your destination,” the voice stated as the car slowed to a stop and the doors lifted up.

Cautiously they stepped out of the vehicle, observing their surroundings with the vigilance expected of a soldier. Even for One-six and Two-six, who had been into the city before, the place they had arrived at still seemed alien.

There were no towering skyscrapers with brightly lit glass windows. There were no twisting highways propped up between the buildings. There were only stubby concrete buildings, wide flats, and a few flickering streetlights shining down upon an old asphalt road.

The windows of the buildings were all crusted over with dust. Black streaks of corrosion drooped down from the bottom of the windows, as if a fire which burned downwards had scorched the entire area.

“This is… quite different from the rest of the city…” Two-six mumbled.

One-six couldn’t disagree. For the place that surrounded them seemed to have little of the glamor, beauty and machine-like efficiency normally associated with Europa.

The streets were much quieter too. As far as One-six can see, there only seemed to be a few pedestrians walking on the pavement. And for some reason all of them seemed to be acting like they had just stolen something.

“I don’t like this place…” Two-five whispered.

“Neither do I…” One-six answered, still sweeping the area with his eyes. “…Come on, let’s go to whatever place we need to go to.”

It took them a while to find the correct number sign bolted onto the wall of a building, mainly because the sign was half broken, and One-five had to reach up and manually fit the pieces back together for it to be intelligible.

But there was another problem. The sign pointed to a narrow alleyway, and it was unclear which door in particular they needed to open, since all the markings had been ripped off the walls or painted over with black paint.

“Maybe the people here just really value anonymity.” One-six said to himself.

“What do we do now?” Two-six asked.

“Just try every door then I guess…”

And so they did.

It turned out that most of the rooms were abandoned, with thick layers of dust covering all the broken furniture and abandoned belongings. A few were still inhabited, but most of the people there opened their doors a crack, then slammed it shut as soon as they saw who was at their door.

“Hey, One-six, there’s people coming towards us,” Two-six whispered a while later as they approached the end of the alleyway.

One-six looked up, and sure enough, three dark silhouettes were at the end of the alley, visible under a dim yellow lamp.

Cautiously, One-six and his team approached them. As they got closer, One-six realized that all of them were wearing a black hoodie, with the hood up over their heads. They also wore masks, hiding all of their facial features except their eyes, which seemed to glow in the darkness.

“We don’t want trouble,” One-six called out, holding up one of his hands towards the men.

“Turn and leave!” One of the men growled.

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t think I can do that,” One-six said, not halting his steps. “There is someone here that we need to meet.”

“Leave now! This is not your territory.”

The three men turned their bodies and raised their hands in a kickboxing stance, one of them pulled out a sizable crowbar.

“Hey! Hey, we don’t want to fight. Just let us through, and we’ll go on our merry ways. Okay?”

The three men didn’t respond.

One-six eyed up the three men. All three are shorter than they are and don’t seem to be as fit either. Even if one has a crowbar, it’s still four on three, and they have the added benefit of having proper hand-to-hand combat training. If they had to, they could take these three on. One-six turned to look at One-five, who nodded in confirmation. It would be helpful if they had their service pistols, but they weren’t allowed to bring them out of the military base.

He turned his body sideways too, raising his hands up into a relaxed Muay Thai stance. His team did the same too, fanning out beside One-six to fill up the entire width of the narrow alleyway.

“We don’t need to do this,” One-six said one last time.

“Leave,” the man replied simply.

One-six sighed. “Well then...” he mumbled, and charged towards the first man.

The hooded man raised his crowbar to strike, which One-six dodged by twisting his body to the side. At the same time his teammates charged forward too, with Two-six and Two-five taking on he man to the left, and One-five taking on the man to the right.

As soon as the crowbar wooshed past harmlessly, One-six twisted his body back the correct way and threw a wide left hook, catching the man right on the solar plexus. He swore to himself as the painful impact rocked his fingers; he had meant to aim lower, but the dim lighting made it hard to judge distance and timing.

As soon as the bunch landed, he kicked off the floor with his right leg, twisting his left foot on the ground to throw a powerful roundhouse kick to the man’s side. The man, still recovering from the first punch, took the kick almost full force, knocking the crowbar out of his hands.

At the same time, One-five had practically bulldozed his much smaller opponent to the ground, and was in the process of delivering a thorough beating.

Two-six and Two-five were tangled up with the other man too, but seemed to be on a fairly level playing ground. It seems the other man knew martial arts too, as he was checking and dodging most of the blows that came at him.

One-six advanced on his opponent, who was doubled over on the ground, and was about to deliver a knockout kick, when the man leapt up with a switchblade in his hand.

Caught by surprise, One-six was barely just able to redirect the blade enough with his hand so it didn’t skewer him. But the blade still sliced into the side of his abdomen, causing him to grimace in pain.

He caught the man’s arm by wrapping his own around it, and yanked sharply to hyperextend the elbow joint. The man screamed in agony, but One-six knew that the arm wasn’t broken, merely some pulled ligaments.

The knife fell to the ground with a clink. One-six tried to reach for it, but the man launched a sidekick into his stomach, causing him to stumble backwards.

For a brief moment the two were separated, each collecting their wits. Then they wiped their noses, shrugged their shoulders, and were about to engage in fighting again when a piercing voice spoke up.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” The nagging voice of an old woman asked.

Immediately the three men disengaged from their fighting and stepped away, one of them struggling to squirm his way out from beneath One-five. They turned to the old lady peeking out from behind a door and bowed.

“Sorry madame, these four were trespassing,” one of them said respectfully. “They are from the military, so we couldn’t let them come through.”

“I see...” the old lady said, rubbing her chin in thought. “Well, I am expecting visitors today, and I think you've just given them a warm welcome."