Preparation for War

Red Virgins HQ, Capital, Mars

The room was initially meant for meetings of the higher-ups in the Mars Armed Force. It was neither too bright nor too dark, with a neon glow surrounding the entire space. In the center stood a large, dining-like table, although it wasn’t exactly a table—it had screens built into it. Nine figures sat around the table, their faces hidden in the shadows. But, their presence gave off an unsettling aura.

A man stood up, his voice breaking the heavy silence.

“Does everyone remember what happens the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, Sir!” came the immediate reply in a chorus of mixed voices. In unison, they all stood and bowed their heads in respect.

“Good. Now, sit down,” the man commanded with cold authority.

Once they were seated, he turned his attention to one of them. “Commander Leo, how are the preparations? Give me a concise update.”

Leo rose, tapping the built-in holographic interface. Instantly, data projections filled the air—statistics, blueprints, military formations.

“Our forces are ready,” Leo began, his voice steady. “We have over 5 million active soldiers, 25 million in training, and 90,000 commander-level officers. Every soldier is at least an intermediate combat specialist, and all are equipped with Nova Core technology. We’re deploying 3 million hybrid gun units, 500,000 Nova Cannon operators, and 600,000 snipers. Close-quarters combat specialists number around 900,000, all of them swordsmen.”

He paused, adjusting his smart lenses. “For the upcoming battle, we plan to deploy one-fourth of our active forces, with the rest on standby as reinforcements. Ten generals will lead the operation.”

Satisfied with his report, Leo added confidently, “We’re prepared for any outcome.”

“Commander Leo,” the man spoke again.
“Yes, Sir?”

"What is the most crucial factor in preparing for victory in a war?"

“To gather the most manpower and lead strategically is—”

“Commander!” The sharp interruption cut through Leo’s answer. The man’s voice was cold, commanding attention.

Leo stiffened. “My deepest apologies, Sir. I don’t know the correct answer.”

The man’s eyes scanned the room. “Does anyone else know?”

A figure with crimson hair and a black cloak stood up, his voice calm and calculated.
“To know the opponent’s weakness.”

“Correct,” the man responded, clapping slowly, almost mockingly. The rest of the room followed suit, though the applause felt forced. “Sit down, Commander Ajin.”

Ajin shot Leo a smug glance before taking his seat. Leo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching beneath the table. But before he could react further—

“Commander Leo!”

“Yes, Sir!” Leo snapped to attention.

“What’s the situation regarding Earth’s manpower and their preparations?”

Leo adjusted his glasses, pushing them back with a deliberate gesture.
“Sir, Earth’s preparations are hardly worth mentioning. While they may have more manpower than us, most of their soldiers are untrained, disorganized, and lack discipline. Their weapons are primitive compared to ours. Frankly, they lost this war long before it even began.”

The man leaned forward slightly, his fingers drumming against the table. “And do you know who loses a war before it begins, Commander Leo?”

Leo, trying once more to display his confidence, replied, “As I said, Sir—”

“Commander!” The man cut him off again, his voice sharper this time.

Leo bowed his head slightly. “Apologies, Sir. I do not know. Please enlighten me.”

The man stood up slowly, his presence looming. “Those who underestimate their enemies lose before the first shot is even fired.”

Leo bowed again, this time with a humbler tone. “Sorry, Sir. My arrogance got the better of me.”

“Enough. You may sit,” the man said.

“Thank you, Sir,” Leo replied, his tone now more serious and respectful as he sat.

The man then stood up, addressing the room once more. “Thank you all for your time. You are dismissed, except for Commander Nox. Remain.”

Everyone stood, bowed their heads in respect, and filed out of the room quietly, leaving Commander Nox behind.

After everyone left the room, the man turned to Nox.
“Nox, how are things on your end? Is the Super Nova 2W Cannon ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” Nox replied. “It’s positioned perfectly. We can fire it at any moment.”

“Good.” The man’s lips curled into a gory smile, his face dark with satisfaction.

“But Sir,” Nox interrupted cautiously, “that cannon is far too dangerous. If we use it, it could obliterate the entire area, including our own soldiers. I believe we shouldn't use it at all.”

The man’s smile faded instantly, his expression shifting to one of cold irritation. His voice remained calm, but the tension in the air was palpable.

“Nox,” he said, eyes narrowing as he stared directly at him, “Who is in command here? Who is the supreme commander? You or me?”

“You are, Sir,” Nox replied quickly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then you will follow my orders exactly as given. Is that clear?”

Nox immediately bowed his head, nearly sinking to the ground. “Yes, Sir. My apologies for questioning your judgment.”

The supreme commander stared at him for a moment before his lips curled into a sinister grin. He began to laugh, a cold, wicked sound that echoed throughout the room, sending chills down Nox’s spine.

Meanwhile, on Earth…

Tokyo Rebel Hold, Earth

Far from the polished and sterile environment of Mars, the Tokyo Rebel Hold was a cramped, gritty hub of organized chaos. The room was lit moderately, filled with a sense of urgency and quiet murmurs. Thirteen people gathered around a square table, their faces tense with the weight of what was coming. Holographic screens flickered on the walls, displaying old, worn maps and outdated data—a reminder of the technological gap between Earth and Mars.

At the head of the table stood the right-hand man of the Earth Rebel Army’s leader, holding a small digital device, flicking through screens of data with practiced precision.

“We have 10 million active swordsmen,” he reported.

General Rei’s eyes lit up. “That’s more than Mars! They only have about 900,000 swordsmen. We have the advantage!”

The right-hand man remained calm.

“General Rei,” the right-hand man cautioned, his voice steady, “don’t be fooled by the numbers. While we may have greater quantity, their soldiers are equipped with seventh-generation A2S tech. Some rumors suggest they might have eighth-generation weapons.”

Rei’s expression shifted from confident to alarmed. “Seventh-generation A2S? That’s... six times more advanced than our weapons!”

The right-hand man continued, “Not only that, but all their soldiers are at least intermediate-grade, with many at advanced levels. We only have 6,000 advanced and 50,000 intermediate soldiers.”

Rei’s confidence wavered.
“Then how do we expect to win in close combat?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” the right-hand man responded firmly. “Your task is to lead your troops as per the orders of the Rebel Army. The tactics are our responsibility.”

Rei protested, “How is this logical? As a general, I deserve to know the tactics!”

A sharp voice cut through the rising tension.

“Chief-General Kurosaki, remind General Rei of the importance of discipline.”

Chief-General Kurosaki quickly responded, “Apologies, Sir.”
He turned to Rei and barked, “Rei! Stop questioning orders you’re not meant to know!”

Rei bowed his head, feeling the weight of humiliation.

Even Chief Kurosaki…

“I’m sorry, Sir. Please forgive me.”

Without another word, Rei left the room, his frustration barely concealed.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, tension thickening in the air. Suddenly, the right-hand man’s device rang, shattering the quiet. It wasn’t a regular phone, but a small object with buttons on it. He pulled it out from his pocket and pressed a button, causing a holographic screen to unfold in midair.

He answered the call, which connected directly to his headset, making his conversation inaudible to the rest of the room. Thanks to advanced noise cancellation, no one could hear a word he said. The conversation was brief, lasting less than a minute. When he finished, he gave a slight, eerie smile that made everyone in the room uncomfortable. But no one dared to ask about the call, still shaken from the earlier confrontation.

The atmosphere in the room was growing tense again, but the right-hand man suddenly smiled—a lighter, more relaxed smile this time. “Good news. I just heard from the World Rebel Army that both the Hijaz and Neon Mirage clans have agreed to join the war.”

“Really?!” Several voices erupted in excitement, with almost everyone echoing the same sentiment, forgetting the earlier tension—everyone except Chief-General Kurosaki.

“Calm yourselves,” Kurosaki said firmly. “There’s still a long way to go before we win.”

“Exactly,” the right-hand man added, following Kurosaki’s tone. “Our chances of winning were almost zero before. Now they’ve improved, but still less than 1%—at least in a conventional sense.”

“But that’s not your concern,” he continued. “Your only job is to lead as instructed. It’s up to us to ensure victory.”

“Yes, Sir!” everyone replied in unison.

“Good. I’ve also received word from the Egypt Rebel Hold—they’ve completed their preparations. Make sure your forces reach the Sahara by tomorrow afternoon. And, that concludes today’s meeting. You are all dismissed.”

With that, the right-hand man turned and left the room. Everyone stood in respect, watching him exit before letting out quiet sighs of relief. A few murmurs broke out as they prepared to leave, each giving their respects to Chief-General Kurosaki before departing.

After everyone was gone, Kurosaki made his way to the rooftop. As he expected, he found General Rei standing near the edge, one hand resting on the railing as he gazed out over the city.

“Just as I thought, I’d find you here,” Kurosaki said, walking up behind him.

“Oh, Kurosaki-san?” Rei turned slightly, his voice calm but tinged with dissatisfaction. “The meeting’s over?”

“You’re still upset about earlier, huh? No surprise,” Kurosaki said as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and walked over to Rei.

“Got a lighter?” he asked.

“Yeah, here.” Rei handed over the lighter from his pocket.

Kurosaki lit the cigarette, took a slow drag, and then said, "You know, Rei, there are times when even the best intentions don’t align with what’s expected. Some orders aren’t meant to be understood—because sometimes, God simply doesn't allow it. In the end, He knows better than we ever could."

"Man, cigarettes are still the best. I’ll never get why people switched to those electric inhalers—no style, no thrill," Kurosaki said with a lighthearted tone, trying to ease the tension.

Rei stayed quiet for a moment, then finally spoke, “How long do you think this war will last?”

Kurosaki looked at him, took the cigarette from his mouth, and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. His voice was heavy.

“It could take an entire decade, maybe more. Wars like this... they take time. And we’re just players in a much larger game.”

Rei let out a deep sigh, his eyes drifting toward the horizon. “I see.”