Armstrong/Memories

## Chapter 1

The Witch Corps—that's what we were called.

We were also known as the North's strongest unit during the Third Galian Civil War.

Oh yes, we were strong—so strong, no one else even came close.

Outcasts of no value who were born as witches...myself included.

That's the kind of lot that was assembled together.

So, everything was a first for me.

Meeting comrades who I knew had my back, and being rewarded for being a witch.

Back then, a bond thicker than blood, deeper than anyone else could ever understand...

undeniably tied us to one another.

They were everything to me...

so I took this pistol, and planted a bullet into each of them.

Until every last one...was gone.

## Chapter 2

In Galia, witches, immigrants, and criminals were all treated equally as second-class citizens.

We were all pushed into the cramped, dirty Internment Zone.

Every day was dog eat dog...so the war was a godsend.

After all, if I joined the military, I'd be able to eat food and not feel cold.

Still, all second-rate citizens are treated as pawns, forced into the frontlines with little to no training.

The lot of bottom-feeders were massacred—their bodies dropping left and right.

But, *we* were different.

We each had secret weapons...

Yes—our magical powers.

I assembled all the witches together.

We protected each other as we coordinated our powers, fighting desperately for our lives.

Then...when the battle was over, we were the only ones left with our limbs intact.

*That* was when the Witch Corps was born.

## Chapter 3

I wonder when it all changed.

We were supposed to be fighting to live, but now, we were living to fight.

The battles were violent, and yet, we were still treated as pawns.

But, it didn't matter how relentless the missions we were mobilized for were—

we always came back home.

Our unit was small in number, but we never lost a single soldier.

Before long, this lot of detestable witches were called by a new name—

"patriotic heroes."

I was so happy.

My subordinates—my comrades were finally able to smile.

We found that thing called a reason to live.

...But, it would've been much better if my story ended right here.

## Chapter 4

At any given moment, stars that shine too brightly will one day disturb the harmony of the night sky.

Apparently, we became those stars.

Near the war's end, inside a hidden mine in the South, we were on a simple ambushing mission...

At least, that's what we thought.

But, it wasn't enemies that surrounded us—it was a touch-activated magic circle...

A trap that reacts to magical power, meant only for killing witches.

If we were bathed in its light, nothing would save us.

Do we run? Do we hide?

Neither was an option—we had nothing to use for cover.

We were set up by those snakes we thought were our allies—the Northern government.

"Captain, get down!"

My second-in-command pushes me aside, and our surroundings are engulfed in light...

*That* was the end of the Witch Corps.

## Chapter 5

We were so strong.

A normal witch would've instantly died after getting hit by that attack, but we didn't.

No—we couldn't.

"Please, help me..."

"Please, kill me..."

"Please, take the pain away..."

...You understand the meaning behind these words?

Every nerve in their body was ripped apart, but that wasn't enough for death to claim them.

Even now, I can still hear their screams calling out to me in the darkness.

So, with my own two hands, I put their pain at ease.

Yes—each and every one of them...with this pistol.

And yet, they held no grudge towards me.

They even thanked me.

Not a single tear was shed. My heart shattered with every shot.

I pulled the trigger for the last time, and heard the dry sound of the empty cartridge falling onto the dirt.

Then, she appeared as if she was lying in wait this whole time—the Pope.

## Chapter 6

You know what she said to me?

"If it is revenge you seek, then I will grant you power."

...Who the hell do you think you are?

Don't fret—I have no need of your power.

My time on the battlefield has already taken my sanity away.

I collected my comrades' dog tags and hung them around my neck.

I will never forget any of you.

We're bound forever...

I'll eventually follow you all to the other side.

So, wait for me just a little longer.

...Because I'm going to see to it that those snakes pay for what they've done.

At last, I turned my head towards the Pope and told her one last thing.

Be sure not to miss out on what's coming next.

You'll get what you wish for—

No, I'll show you something the likes of which you've never seen...

The place I have in my sights is...the capital.

## Chapter 7

Marching in the depths of darkness is my army of specters, revived from death by my magic power.

Not only are they fellow soldiers—they're lost souls.

It was like we made a triumphant return home.

How absurd—not a single person here to celebrate our homecoming.

The capital exudes prosperity, corruption, extravagance...

This city has grown fat as if it was oblivious to the war.

That goes without saying.

We protected it, after all.

We risked our lives, crawled through battlefields, evaded blades and bullets,

swam in mud and blood, turned our world into nothing but gunpowder, blood, and iron—

and we protected this damn city!

That's why I—*we* must make them learn...

that there's nothing different about us.

That there's something that connects them to us.

That there's one thing that makes us all equal—"death."

Exterminate the knaves who resist.

Leave the cowards who flee.

March until this land is filled with nothing but silence.

...My comrades in arms!

Together, let us bring this city to its knees!