Author's Preface
The Faceless Monster.
Muga.
Sukta.
Ginnungagap.
Śūnyatā
Anattā
Mai’wen of the Third Seat carried countless epithets, her name a triumphant roar of heroes, and a wicked curse to demons. Among the 7 Divine Generals, Mai’wen held the most infamous reputation as a ruthless soldier of the empire.
How would she fare against the others? I thought. How would a woman of this magnitude, this grandiosity, fare against those monsters?
It was a useless question, a self-indulgent question, but it could not be argued that this woman stood at the pinnacle.
———
District 3, commonly known as Old Rochester by locals, was a frigid, mountainous region north of the capital. Sharp, jagged granite mountains pierced the horizon, their tips tinged blue from glacial ice. At their base, the ground stood frozen, rock-strewn, and steeply scree-sloped.
It was a miracle we arrived during the late-summer season. From mountain peaks, howling gales swept, driving biting winds far below freezing. Minimal sunlight and brutal winters discouraged foolish trespassers, lest they risk their lives in the mountains.
The climate was so unforgiving that many considered the region inhospitable to human life. Rocky, loose earth discouraged horseback riding and railway construction, making exports incredibly difficult and costly. The average citizen of Wisteria would likely never set foot on land assumed barren, desolate, and devoid of any practical use. Yet, that assumption could not be further from the truth.
Old Rochester was home to the Sauvitari People, an indigenous tribe of Hominids that had inhabited these lands for generations, thriving off of communal living and renewable resources. Many laws directly prohibit foreigners from entering these lands without sponsorship, a permit, or a reasonable explanation, such as simply getting lost, to prevent overhunting, colonization, and deforestation.
We, as Special Operatives of the Imperial Wisterian Army, had ample permission to enter these sacred grounds.
Nothing like this existed within the Eternal Twilight, a realm in which spring never came to an end. It was a great honor to cross these sacred lands, an honor far beyond my station, but humility was not in my current interest.
I need only concern myself with my immediate objective: enter the Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility (SCIF) known as “ The Dome .”
“E-E-Ereth…” Derrick said, his teeth chattering. “Aren’t y-y-y-you a bit c-cold?”
“...? No, not really.”
Oh, right. I forgot that humans didn’t share my natural resistance to the elements. That explains why everyone is wearing such dense layers today. I didn’t particularly care for fashion trends and presentability, but it was a tad embarrassing to be the only one underdressed for the occasion. It made me feel incompetent.
“We’re almost there, everyone. Stay close together. The trail will only become more obscure from here.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” we replied.
We were now crossing the border from District 3 to District 1. The harsh winds and limited visibility prevented any attempt at an aerial intervention, and the aforementioned snowy terrain didn’t make the trip any easier.
After roughly 30 minutes of trekking, we arrive at a singular iron door embedded into the side of a mountain, no wider than any other house door.
Lieutenant Sahyat pulled out a small knife with which she used to poke her finger, drawing blood. She smeared it against the door, uttering the incantation, “Oh, coiling serpent, devouring its flesh. Tell a tale as old as time. With wicked fangs. And searing venom.”
Krk-
The sound of an open lock.
“Let’s go, everyone. It’s time to meet Her Excellency.”
———
The interior of the Dome could best be described as “void.” A lack of discernible odor, along with the building's monochromatic white, reminded me of a hospital, or perhaps an insane asylum. It made me uncomfortable, on edge, and generally displeased to be here. I couldn’t help but believe that this design choice was intentional.
Much of the same could be said of the workers. They dashed about the facility in a frantic attempt to be efficient. Shuffling dozens of paper documents, relocating dangerous technology, and speaking in incomprehensible scientific jargon seemed to be the norm. Part of me felt sorry for them, while another part was relieved that I never became a scholar.
We made our way through the first floor before taking a large elevator down to the 25th floor—an area designated only for special operatives.
It was there, beyond the mezzanine's gates, that we found our person of interest.
Mai’wen of the Third Seat was there to greet us before the massive interstellar projection.
Without a moment’s hesitation, we bowed and greeted our superior.
“Good Morning, General.”
“Good Morning to you all as well, Barrack 12D. Now, raise your heads.”
What exactly was my impression of this woman, a woman I had not seen in person since my arrival in the capital? I hadn’t had a firm impression of her character at first, but now, my understanding was far more complete.
This woman was a void.
Her vocal cadence, expressions, posture, hairstyle, and even her physical features seemed unwavering, embodying a stoic void.
“You’re 5 minutes late,” she said with a detached tone, unlike an ordinary reprimand, “but now isn’t the time for punishment. This is an emergency on a scale we haven’t seen in years.”
With the snap of a finger, the interstellar projection zooms in, focusing on two planets: our planet, Al-Aresta , and another, larger planet labeled Urr .
“We have recently received dozens of calls for reinforcements from the human minority on Urr, a Shura-majority planet. Of course, that’s not all there is to it. It would be easy enough to send a couple of high-ranking lieutenants to finish off a couple of Shura. This planet is a tad trickier — it is home to an Apostle.”
“—!”
Apostle…I heard that title before, but where? The very utterance of the term brought everyone to attention. Derrick in particular seemed upset, almost wrathful.
“I’m sure most of you know what an Apostle is by now, but it seems like we have a newcomer, so I’ll take the time to clarify. Apostles are elite-level Shura who are contracted to one of the 5 Great Evils. Their power goes far beyond the norm. Even the strength of several high-ranking lieutenants may not be enough to defeat an Apostle.”
She turned to the projector and zoomed in on Planet Urr.
“This isn’t merely a battle of strength, but of scale . Urr’s population stands at roughly 10 billion people under a single planetary-nation, compared to our measly 5 billion. If you don’t count rival nations and independent contractors, we’re down to merely 350,000 people, most of whom aren’t combat-ready. It goes without saying that this is an extremely disadvantageous situation. That’s why we’ve avoided confrontation.”
“However…” Mai’wen of the Third Seat pulled out a familiar cigar and placed it in her mouth, yet she refused to cut or light it. “The situation has changed.”
In her right hand was a foreign, disk-shaped object as small as a bagel, with a silver finish on its edges.
“This is a compact disk, a CD, containing the information regarding your upcoming assignment. Pay attention, everyone — this is the face of our enemy.”
[One week before the impending raid.]