The gates of hell had finally opened for Itsumi. The nurses carefully guided him out of the bunker, stepping over ruins and corpses. The soldiers from the rescue team stared at the boy — only ten years old — his face caked with dirt, clothes torn, and a lifeless look in his eyes. No one dared to speak to him. No one knew how to look without feeling shame.
He was laid down on a stretcher aboard the rescue boat. While the nurses cleaned and tended to his wounds, they couldn't help but feel pity, sorrow, and a deep sadness for the child. He hadn't survived out of talent or glory. He lived because he had to. Driven only by some instinct buried deep inside.
Hoping the Empire would show compassion, the nurses sent a letter to the high command, pleading that the boy not be sent back to the front lines.
The Empire ignored it.
Instead, he was reassigned — to the 300th Magical Aerial Squadron. There, he underwent four more brutal years of training. The type that strips away whatever humanity is left.
By the time he turned fourteen, his body had grown stronger, but his soul had shattered even more. Surrounded by adults, Itsumi remained quiet and distant. He avoided his squadmates during rest hours, choosing solitude over company. He didn't want comfort. He only wanted silence.
During this time, the Asian Empire and the Empire formed a military alliance. To honor that bond, the 300th Magical Squadron was scheduled to support the Empire's military forces at the front.
However, due to the Asian Empire's lack of preparation, the deployment was delayed.
Still, one truth settled deeply within Itsumi:
He now knew where to find her.
The one the God had told him about.
The one who arrived in this world before him.The one they all now feared and followed.
Tanya Degurechaff.