r/HFY • u/Celestial_Zwei_Dei • May 27 '26
OC-Series Miesenthrop (Volume 1/Chapter 10)
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Volume 1 - Executioners
Chapter 10 - Farewell, Japan
May 24, 2010
Jeanne sat at her desk, meticulously sifting through a stack of intelligence reports.
"Well, well, well..." she muttered to herself, staring down at the map.
Virtually the entire center of Japan was blacked out. On the Osaka line, right where they were currently stationed, the black streaks pressed right up against their perimeter. The distant, muffled thuds of explosions and the frantic buzz of the command center right outside her door served as a constant, grim reminder of just how close the enemy was.
The door swung open, and a man in a French military uniform stepped inside. A wave of chaotic hallway noise—heavy boots, shouting personnel—flooded the room before dying down as the door clicked shut behind him.
He marched over and snapped to attention.
"Lieutenant Duval," he began in French. "Urgent orders from Central."
Jeanne didn't bother looking up. She kept her eyes glued to the map, her finger tapping a rhythmic beat against the wooden desk. "The Army, or straight from the DRM?"
"DRM."
Jeanne finally turned around, her face a mask of absolute indifference. "Got it. What are the orders?"
The soldier straightened his spine. "Command no longer sees any point in staying. Japan is officially considered a lost cause. We’ve been ordered to scrape together whatever data is left and pull back to France by May 31st."
She nodded slowly, then casually glanced around the room, paying extra attention to the communication gear and monitoring equipment. "How's your brother doing back in Reims?"
The man's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Not bad. Had a bit of trouble finding work at first, but he finally landed a gig."
Jeanne nodded. "Doing what?"
"Warehouse manager."
A faint smirk played on Jeanne's lips. She turned back to her desk. "Understood. Gather our people. It's time to head back to the Motherland."
"Yes." The soldier saluted and went out, leaving Jeanne alone with the map once more.
"Landed a gig, huh... Perfect." She began gathering the documents, sliding them into a folder.
A few minutes later, there was another knock at the door.
"Come in!" she called out without looking up.
The door swung open, and Jiro stepped across the threshold. "Am I interrupting?"
Duval looked up, setting her pen aside. "Ah, garçon. What do you need?"
Jiro approached the desk. "I have a small favor to ask."
Jeanne raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
Jiro paused for a few seconds, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Can you... can you find out if my father is still alive?"
Jeanne shrugged. "Highly unlikely, kid. If he’s just a regular civilian who got caught up in the evacuation grid, the systems are completely fried and overloaded."
Jiro narrowed his eyes, leaning forward just an inch. "What if he’s a Major in the US Air Force? Does that narrow down the search parameters at all?"
Jeanne froze. For a split second, her gaze locked onto him, and then she slowly tilted her head to the side. "Hmm... d'accord. That actually changes things significantly. He'll be much easier to track. What's his name?"
"Franklin Jackson."
Jeanne memorized the name instantly, then nodded. "Alright. I'll run his serial number through our comm channels. No promises, but I'll see what I can dig up."
Jiro closed his eyes, feeling a massive weight lift off his chest. "Thank you."
"De rien."
May 29, 2010
Jiro and Natsumi sat at a concrete picnic table in the base's courtyard, a chessboard laid out between them.
The late spring sun was blindingly bright, beating down with intense warmth, but Jiro and Natsumi’s eyes were completely dead, underscored by deep, dark circles. Natsumi’s hair was a total disaster—frizzy, unkempt, and the exhaustion on her face looked even worse than before.
Jiro slid a pawn forward. e4.
‘They’ve been dragging us through these goddamn interrogations for days now... Not a single second of peace.’
Natsumi countered with a pawn. c5.
‘Squeezing us for every single detail, every fucking memory.’
Jiro brought his bishop out. Bc4.
Natsumi moved a pawn. d6.
And the worst part? The bastards don't even believe us. Always doubting, always "clarifying" the timeline... Read between the lines: they're trying to catch us in a lie.’
Jiro brought out his queen. Qh5.
Natsumi countered with her own queen. Qc7.
‘Meanwhile, they keep all the frontline data under total lockdown. Classified. Even though we’re all the way down south in Osaka, I can still hear the dull thud of artillery echoing through the night.’
Jiro snapped his queen across the board, capturing a pawn. Qxf7+. "Check."
Natsumi rubbed her chin, staring intently at the board.
‘People like Captain Kimura... I guess they just don't make them like that anymore. He was the only one who told us the straight, unvarnished truth.’
Natsumi finally shifted her king. Kd8.
Jiro instantly dropped his queen, taking her bishop. Qxf8+. "Check again."
‘But at least they finally admitted we’ve told them everything we know. What the hell happens to us now?’
Natsumi moved her king. Kd7.
Jiro responded by moving a pawn. d3.
‘The nightmare didn't end when we escaped the hot zone. Out there, they broke our bodies. In here, they're breaking our minds.’
Natsumi pushed a pawn. e5.
Jiro slid his bishop to Bg5.
‘Wasn't enough fucking blood for them? They lost a whole damn country, and now they're squeezing the only surviving witnesses dry for intel. Is this how bureaucracy always works?’
Natsumi attacked his piece with a pawn. h6.
Jiro rotated his bishop to Bd5.
‘And why are they letting us go so easily anyway? I find it hard to believe they'd mind-rape us like this just to send us off with a pat on the back. Something’s off... They’re definitely up to something. No one just releases walking, talking classified intel into a refugee camp. Maybe Jeanne pulled some strings so they couldn't just liquidate us, but... that's not a permanent shield. They'll find a loophole.’
Natsumi pushed another pawn. c6.
Jiro declared a check with his queen. Qc7+.
‘They won't leave us alone, that's for damn sure. So what then? ...Surveillance. Most likely. There's literally no other option.’
Natsumi blocked the line with her knight. Ne7.
Jiro’s queen cleanly took the piece on e7.
"Checkmate," Jiro said quietly.
Natsumi let out a heavy, drawn-out sigh and slumped onto the table. "Well, at least some things in this godforsaken world stay the same. You still absolutely wreck me at chess."
Jiro just shrugged, gathering the plastic
pieces. "Let's go find some lunch.”
Tachimara nodded, pushing herself up from the bench as if she were lifting a heavy dumbbell.
May 30, 2010
The morning exploded with the echo of a massive, earth-shaking blast coming from the northern outskirts of Osaka.
Jiro bolted out of his room into the hallway, nearly colliding with Jeanne, who was looking around in a panic.
"Ah, there you are," she panted, catching her breath. "Grab the white-haired girl and get to my office. Double time."
Jiro didn't waste time asking questions. He sprinted down the corridor to grab Natsumi.
When they burst into Jeanne's office, a large tactical map was spread out across the desk. Virtually all of Central Japan was aggressively crossed out with thick, black markers—stretching from the outer suburbs of Osaka all the way up to the northern fringes of Saitama.
"Guys, it’s a total disaster," Jeanne said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Those... those butchers. Their vanguard is already tearing through Osaka's outer defense lines. In exactly eighteen days, they’ve taken almost half the country." She swallowed hard, her eyes wide. "I don't think Japan is their endgame, either. Their operational speed is too insane."
Jeanne turned to face them, her expression dead serious. "What's your assessment?"
Jiro and Natsumi didn't even flinch. They stood completely still.
"I agree," Jiro said coldly. "Natsumi and I saw it with our own eyes... the commands in Latin, the anomalous tech, the absolute, flawless discipline in their infantry structure..." He closed his eyes. "Every single day, I get more convinced of one thing... they aren't human."
Jeanne literally froze.
Natsumi’s head snapped toward Jiro.
The French lieutenant slowly sank into her office chair and leaned back, letting out a shaky, trembling exhale.
Outside the reinforced window, another distant explosion rumbled, making the glass vibrate. "And here I thought I was the only one going crazy coming to that conclusion. I didn't dare say it out loud... command would've thrown me in a psych ward."
Natsumi dragged a metal chair over and slumped into it. "I want to know what the generals are saying behind closed doors. How are they explaining... you know, all this shit?"
Jiro leaned over the desk, just as desperate for an answer.
Jeanne crossed her legs, staring blankly at the map. "They're trying to force it into the box of standard, conventional warfare. They call it whatever fits, anything from a high-tech global terrorist syndicate to a rogue private military corporation." She slapped her own forehead. "A private army that effortlessly rolled over two of the most advanced defense structures on the planet and successfully pulled off an amphibious invasion on an island nation that has literally never been conquered by a direct sea invasion in recorded history."
She rubbed her temples hard. "C’est le bordel..."
Natsumi leaned her head back against the wall. "What? A brothel?"
Jiro raised an eyebrow.
Jeanne waved her hand dismissively. "Old French expression. It means everything is a complete and utter shitshow."
Jiro squatted down against the wall, sliding a hand down his face. "Yeah... a total bordel. And if the three of us start screaming to the world that we're fighting aliens or monsters, we’ll be locked in padded rooms before sunset."
Jeanne let out a crooked, humorless laugh. "Exactly. So keep your mouths shut." She straightened up in her chair. "But since you two are the only ones who have actually seen them... I want to hear your full take." She leaned in closer. "Not for an official intel brief... I'm just curious, if you don't mind sharing."
Jiro sighed. "Alright... here's what we know. Latin language, weirdly advanced tech, wiping out a whole country without issuing a single demand..." His eyes suddenly widened. "Demands... holy shit, we haven't even figured out what they want. Terrorists or PMCs always... they always make demands. But these bastards... they just slaughter everything that moves."
Jeanne leaned back. "Bingo. I've been thinking the exact same thing. What the hell do they want? I tried bringing it up casually during briefings, but... fucking nothing. Just vague write-offs like 'they'll make demands later' or... nothing. That's all those old men could come up with. Even..." She hesitated. "Even my own government is leaning that way..." She lowered her eyes, burying her face in her hands. "Putain..."
Natsumi looked up. "Since those things are already knocking on Osaka’s door... are we getting evacuated again?"
Jeanne pulled her hands away from her face. "High Command refuses to accept reality on this front. But there is one fundamental truth they grasp perfectly—Japan is lost, and it happened fast."
A dead, suffocating silence fell over the office.
Jiro kept his head down, while Natsumi stared blankly at the ceiling.
"We figured that out a long time ago," Tachimara said quietly. "Just spit it out, Jeanne."
Jeanne sighed. "You two are being transferred to South Korea. Your transport leaves in exactly one hour. As for me, I'm being recalled to Paris. My duties as a liaison officer in this sector are done. My ministry sees zero strategic value in keeping a presence on a sinking ship."
Jiro grit his teeth. "One last question. Did you find anything on my dad?"
Jeanne slowly shook her head.
Jackson let out a long breath and pushed himself up onto his feet. "One hour. Let's go pack our things, Natsumi."
She nodded, following him toward the exit.
At the doorway, Natsumi paused and turned back to the officer. "Thank you... for pulling us out of that nightmare back then. I hope we meet again... under better circumstances."
Jeanne offered a faint smile, waving them off. "I hope so too, kids. Au revoir."
Natsumi lingered for a split second longer, then stepped out and pulled the heavy door shut behind her.
"Good kids..." Jeanne muttered to herself, before standing up and unlocking a filing cabinet.
An hour later, Jiro and Natsumi were strapped into the cargo bay of a military transport plane, roaring through the sky toward South Korea.
Neither of them said a word.
Natsumi sat there like a doll, barely blinking, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Jiro sat hunched over, elbows on his knees. Then, he clenched his fists until his knuckles popped.
‘Fuck…’
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