Chapter 3
She walked with a brisk pace. Uneasiness wandered to her mind, full of the personage of a certain person. Once she served, loved, and betrayed.
A pair of her hair that shone coldly as a speck of snow in blizzards, ran in tattered, unlike her previous demeanor.
"Are you certain of this Tirpitz."
Bismarck remarked to her sister, calmly sipping her cup of coffee though she had the same inner struggle as her sister who walks back and forth as trying to calm her mind.
"How could I mistake Herr Kommandant, his eyes and physical appearance may change a bit, but I'm certain it's him."
Ah, she remembered those pair of crystal eyes. Who always smiled no matter the time, he who ran an office, strongarm the military at the tender age of twelve and stand against the might of the entire world.
How could she not remember him, when she saw his eyes losing color as Iron blood gun pointed towards him.
"What should we do Bismarck?"
Tirpitz stopped and asked. A rarity of her who has a bitter-relationship with her sister.
"I can't believe this, but if it's him… no, if revenge he seeks then we need to prepare."
"Prepare? Prepare for what! He's now officially under the Siren banner. He was once able to collectively challenge super-nation and beat them out of submission only with a single tattered fleet and division! What kind of preparation we could make!"
Tirpitz reached her breaking point. She turned away her shoulder, and quietly sobbed as she held her face.
Ah, truly she was regretting.
Why she joined the schism caused in the first place. It was a mistake. They should not break, no the Iron Blood she knows won't break even bearing the collective might of the world.
"Remember those tattered fleet and division. They're the most advanced army in the world, nothing could stop them when the enemy cannon couldn't reach and their bullets useless against the armor."
Bismarck sighed, gently put the coffee back on the table.
"Then he joined the Siren, one with technology years ahead of us."
Tirpitz muttered but loud enough for her sister to hear. Bismarck couldn't find fault in her sister's assessment.
"Tirpitz, wou—"
Before they could say anything further, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
"Enter."
"Excuse me."
Bismarck addressed the newcomer, "Z23, is there something to report?"
"Yes. It seems the Azur lane wanted to hold another conference to discuss the recent news. And they wanted you as one of the representatives, Bismarck."
Bismarck pondered to that. Looks like they wanted some answers. She ruefully sighed, before nodding to the destroyer.
"I'll see to it. Is there anything else?"
"It's not an actual report… but…" The Destroyer hesitantly asked.
"But?"
"Is it true? That Herr Kommandant has come back?"
She shook her head, "It's not confirmed yet, and even then, we don't know if it's him."
"I-I see…"
"Nothing in this room will come out. If there's nothing else. Dismissed."
"Yes! please excuse me."
Bismarck could only rub her eyebrow. If the news were to be leaked, half if not the entire blood will call for blood under her watch.
After losing the war, the remaining kansen of the empire build a new nation upon it. The Iron Blood. Even then, it doesn't mean they were free of pile upon pile of war crimes, reparation, and debt.
The existence of the Kommandant was akin to a legend to them. Even if he drove the world into the flame of war, the empire prospers under his guidance. Instead, now, they live in destitute. Elite diverges the common. Where meritocracy was just a distant dream replaced by foreign ideology.
Resent and dissent soon piled up.
Technology after technology was stolen, demanded, and even then, they have to report their finding to the Azur lane. Like a hound in leash, and be demanded to wear a clown suit.
Such is the fate of the loser. She wonders why did they betray him in the first place.
Today will start the mark of another long year, she thought as Tirpitz already left the office leaving her alone basked in the afternoon light that passed through the window.