When you go to war against your enemies and see horses and chariots and an army greater than yours, do not be afraid of them, because the Lord your God, who brought you up out of Egypt, will be with you.
When you are about to go into battle, the priest shall co forward and address the army.
He shall say: "Hear, Israel: Today you are going into battle against your enemies. Do not be fainthearted or afraid; do not panic or be terrified by them. For the Lord your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory."
The officers shall say to the army: "Has anyone built a new house and not yet begun to live in it? Let him go ho, or he may die in battle and soone else may begin to live in it. Has anyone planted a vineyard and not begun to enjoy it? Let him go ho, or he may die in battle and soone else enjoy it. Has anyone beco pledged to a woman and not married her? Let him go ho, or he may die in battle and soone else marry her."
Then the officers shall add, "Is anyone afraid or fainthearted? Let him go ho so that his fellow soldiers will not beco disheartened too."
When the officers have finished speaking to the army, they shall appoint commanders over it."-Deuteronomy 20:1-9
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[Sanpaku’s SeiõrStar Hidden Cul-de-sac]
From the inside of a three story ho that is part of the surrounding cul-de-sac, the youngest of Takamagahara, Jormy, watches the ’muted’ debate from a second floor window.
In the sa high class ho office, his older but smaller sister Drakania sits nearby. The overprotective older sibling watches her precious little brother as he regretfully sits in their peaceful, protected shelter.
Drakania: "Don’t look too upset, Jormy.
Since we’re in charge of watching the elderly, we don’t have to worry about as much as the others.
Most of the old people under Sanpaku’s care are kind, they try to be less dependent on ’us young people’, but they lookout for one another too."
Seemingly not interested in his given objective, the impressionable young man with not only an IceEye symbiote but also a glove covered, unprecedented, regrown hand and half forearm resembling an Iceman’s, vents his thoughts out loud to his trusted sister.
Jormy: "I chickened out, Drakania...
As soon as I heard the explosions and gunfire in the distance, I froze up.
Both Mr. Daisuki and Big Bro Saku knew...
When they both told I wouldn’t be shunned for being scared, I didn’t even hesitate.
Like a coward, I turned around and ca back to safety through Mr. Daisuki’s portal.
While everyone else had made their decisions to put themselves in possible danger, in order to protect the people here, I was pretending to be just as brave as them."
His loving older sister, who was once smacked by Saku for holding back her brother from growing stronger, has conflicting feelings about his confession.
Drakania: "Jormy, you don’t-"
Old Man’s Voice: "That was my exact thought when I was face to face with war too, young man."
Both siblings spin towards the open doorway and see an elderly man in khaki pants and a checkered button up, in his 90’s, but still physically (and achingly) mobile enough to make his way up the stairs and to the second floor room.
Old Man: "Excuse my interruption, but while I was poking around my new surroundings, I couldn’t help but overhear you two and it reminded of when I was your age, Boy."
While the man shuffles his way in, the respectful purple haired boy gives up his chair to the guest.
With the grunts and moans accustod to being released from an old body, the friendly geezer basically falls into the offered cushioned seating.
Drakania: "Is there anything we can get you, Sir?
Water?
Food?"
Keeping his wrinkled, crows footed gaze on Jormungand, the elderly resident under the care of Takamagahara imdiately explains his intentions.
Old Man: "I don’t need anything like that, sweetheart.
But you know, nothing would make this old geezer happier than to help a young man work through his own ntal conflict of personal accountability."
Surprising both siblings, Jormy swallows his spit now knowing he is about to hear the past experiences of an old man concerned about the decision making of a younger generation.
Old Man: "What’s your na, son?
How old are you?"
Jormy: "Jormungand, sir...and-and I just turned 16 a couple weeks ago."
Old Man: "16 you say, huh?"
Amused by the age of his target audience, the old man releases a breathy chuckle before continuing.
Old Man: "That was the sa age I was when Vinland had decided to enter the second Great War."
Now knowing just how old their guest speaker is, both siblings quietly and respectfully listen to the words from a man who lived during the period where Hell was literally on Earth.
Old Man: "At first, when I had saw those photographs in the newspaper, I thought to myself, ’I’m glad that isn’t my ho’.
Then, as more and more news ca through day by day, that was when I started seriously considered joining the fight.
Even with the realization that it could possibly be my own ho town that becos unrecognizable, I was scared.
Scared to arm myself with weaponry ant to kill. Knowing I would be using violence on another man. Another soldier who was currently living through my fears, fighting a defensive battle on his own ho soil.
If those n could switch theaters to my ho, would they?"
Just imagining the poetic tragedy being described makes Drakania’s orange eyes swell up.
Jormungand on the other hand feels a wave of emotions surface from his chest.
Old Man: "When I had brought up the idea of joining the war to my family, every one of them was against the idea entirely...but that’s when I knew, I had to go and fight."
With the reveal of his reasoning for going to war easily comparable to their unconditional love and concerns for family, Drakania and Jormy look across the room at each other. Knowing that the veteran’s words are getting through to her scared, conflicted little brother, Drakania can only sit in silence, fighting back her usual rush of tears.
Old Man: "I enlisted after I had lied on the application about my age, and when I was found out, it was too late and I was already on a landing craft destined for Omaha beach.
During boot camp and training, I had made inseparable bonds with my fellow soldiers. All older than myself, but with the sa decided view point.
’We beco the monsters who tear down the hos of others, before those monsters and that destruction ca to our own hos’."
The topic of "becoming a monster" to protect his ho and family hits Jormy harder as he realizes how much of his human body he has changed to do so.
Along with his alien symbiote right eye, his gloved alien hand is unique to only this selfless teen.
Old Man: "Just like you, once those explosions, heavy artillery fire, and screaming echoes from the wounded could be heard from my landing vessel, that was when I realized, I was only pretending to be just as brave as everyone else.
As a boy who snuck away from the peace and protection of his ho, I imdiately regretted my decision to enlist.
While I was in the very back of the landing unit I was assigned to, I rembered my own father telling about his experience during the first Great War. It was definitely his way to try and persuade from participating in the second.
He told , whenever he wasn’t in the midst of a firefight, he prayed.
He prayed to a God he had never actually believed in before the war, but with his future uncertain, it was all he could do until he was on a plane back ho.
So, as his son, in a sa excessively violent predicant, before those disembarking doors lowered, I prayed."
While almost in a transfixed daze while recounting the chaotic events of his younger years, the old veteran shakingly wipes his nose with the back of his liver spotted hand before continuing his graphic war tale.
Old Man: "When those doors opened, the soldiers in my unit towards the front, and my commanding Lieutenant, they were imdiately mowed down by enemy fire. Blood sprayed everywhere and the painful screams of the wounded replicated what we heard in the distance while approaching.
As I was forcibly pushed out with the rest of my landing unit, I could finally see the water and beaches we were supposed to be storming and it was all covered red with blood.
The occasional explosion hitting water or sand, forcing a splash of the impacted surface into the air and it all falling back down on top of us.
To this day I can’t believe I made it out alive. Not one enemy bullet or explosive round hit ...but how?
At the ti of the chaos it seed as if I had fallen for so sort of governntal trickery. How could any of us survive this Hell storm they had sent us into? These endless waves of bullets whizzing by, hitting my comrades. These n defending their hos, they most certainly weren’t going to stop until every single one of us in the invading force was dead, right?"
There is a mont of silence in the room. A hacking cough from one of the other seniors downstairs that breaks the frozen silence.
After a deep, whistling breath through his hair filled nostrils, the war veteran moves on to a separate arc in his story.
Old Man: "A couple decades after the war, when I was retired, I got into fishing as my main pass ti.
One day, I t another man about my age, casting his own lines in my favorite spot. After I survived my ti in that war, I’ve kept my promise to God and never took part in conflict ever again. So I welcod my new pal and he seed relieved to be with my casual company.
After a few months of mostly quiet tis together, we would only talk to each other when one of us caught sothing good, but there were occasional monts when he would ’accidentally’ give himself away.
Looking back, it was what he didn’t say that imdiately revealed to he was one of them during the sa war I had participated in.
Hehe, God really is an amazing writer for this wholeso tragedy we live in, ain’t he?"
Thinking back on a personal mont of his, the respectable veteran seems to quote soone.
Old Man: "’If my acts as a soldier are justice, then may the cheers of the liberated and vanquished echo to the heavens. Loud enough for the ones who sacrificed everything to hear them.
But if my side is to lose, and my existence has all been a lie, if I had been fighting for the side of evil all this ti, may all my comrades who died in vein rest in peace through and my accountability for our sins.’"
Both siblings give their senior storyteller smiles of relief towards the sowhat happy ending to the elderly man’s story.
With a dried lip, tooth missing smile, the forgiving old man gives his final advice to the young man in front of him and waves Jormy to co closer.
Old Man: "Don’t be afraid to fight when it is absolutely necessary, Kid.
However, if you ever do have to trade more of your humanity to beco a monster, in order to protect your sister over there..."
He points towards the guilt ridden older sister who continues to influence her precious younger brother into safety, but then pokes the fit, athletic teenager in the chest, over his heart.
Old Man: "... Rember to never trade that in there.
If you dare give up what’s in here, there’s no doubt youwill destroy what you’ve been trying to save all along.
Rember that, Kid.
...Please."
Jormungand nods with confidence but suddenly ruining the mont is a mild explosion, almost like a hand grenade, booms from outside.
A slight commotion is heard downstairs and both Jormy and Drakania run over to the window. Outside, across the circular black top street from where a surprised but guilty looking Itsuka and extrely uncomfortable Zoram are standing, is a small smoke cloud over cracked asphalt.
Itsuka’s entire right hand is covered in her crystal purple SoulSeiõr before she sheepishly releases her control over the accidently destructive energy.
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