The Scythe That Will Strike the Corrupt Empire's Throat

"Our Marines have retaken Blake Island."

Along with those words, Lucilla handed me several enclosed photographs. They were pictures of our Marines taken on Blake Island.

The first photograph showed the Imperial Guardsmen.

The twenty of them had been dropped in the middle of the enemy lines, subdued the enemy, and sent back this photograph.

They wore steel armor bearing the scars of battle and carried heavy machine guns as they surrounded the enemy officers. Their eerie gazes seemed to come through the black-and-white photograph.

The next photograph showed Marines planting a flag on the highest peak of Blake Island.

The flag bore the eagle and anchor, the symbols of our Southern Marines. Five soldiers held it at an angle as they prepared to plant it—a clear testament that Blake Island had been completely retaken.

The final photograph showed the enemy forces that had holed up in Blake Island Village. A photograph of Republic Marines being taken away with both hands raised above their heads looked perfect as propaganda aimed at the Republic.

"You took some good pictures, too."

It had only been a week since the war began. We had barely 100,000 troops deployed along the front line against the Central forces...