VR WARS Volume II - Coalition Army

SNOW WHITE AND THE EAGLE

“…Though we’ve won this time, a few weeks won’t be enough for them,” he whispered vaguely into the fire as this warmed his hands from the freezing temperatures. Ever since he could remember, he had enjoyed the cold weather above anything else. The way his body fought to stabilize his temperature made him feel alive.

What many saw as a nuisance that swept through thin cloth to drain their soul, a struggle for survival that required constant movement to combat the frigid air, he saw the complete opposite.

Feeling cold was the very definition of being alive.

Admiring it with a straight face and giving in to its daunting white beauty was the way to honor it.

What other kinds of weather can make man cling to his life so dearly? What other elements could stalk someone like the specter of death, enforcing its minions to administer its prey’s submission?

Tearing its way through the skin and tortuously slashing it with constant harsh blows, all the while moaning in the pleasure that was pain and pushing its way past the outer layers until reaching the heart—turning blood to ice sludge. Bending muscles until they became clumsy with numbness, eventually afflicting the senses and making the entrapped victim lose all perspective of where and when. “…Now I know what he must’ve felt on that bitter retreat from Moscow.”

Remembering Napoleon’s fateful journey under the blinding cold during his Russian campaign, Angelo summoned up the totality of casualties for both sides on his menu window from the exposure to the elements alone, mainly the frostbite debuff. After neutralizing both Pedro’s headquarters and the supply chain, this debuff alone had ravaged the UL and UC’s ranks without mercy. The UAT, being in a more suitable position with numerous shelters, avoided such a fate. Nevertheless, a company’s worth of students was forced to resign due to the severe injuries sustained by the extreme elements.

On the other hand, due to Rui’s elitist behavior, the stubborn Mirabilis Unit of the UC, the last of the axis to stand against Angelo, fought and died to the last.

“This could’ve ended two hours ago if you allowed them to surrender,” a feminine voice breathed warm air into his cold ears. “A tiger is most fierce when driven to a corner. The same principles apply to all living creatures, humanity included.”

“…Took you long enough,” he successfully identified the woman’s voice without having to rely on his vision. Her speech patterns have evolved beyond those of medieval formality.

“I don’t understand what you hope to gain from this; there’s no logic to your actions.”

Two months of silence, and now she’s questioning my judgment… “Mercy, prisoners, surrender…all of it is allowed in the real world; all of it comes to no consequences. They are an appeal to the better part of us. But forfeiting here also means losing our lives back where we come from…besides, there’s no rule saying we need to abide by the Geneva Convention.” His contented tone unsurprisingly took a one-eighty turn, souring in accordance with the seriousness of the issue at hand. “I will not beg for scraps in the streets; none of us will. Here, if we can still stand, we fight…until no one is alive.”

“All or nothing then.”

“Something like that.”

Since discovering this new world, he had lived fully. Witnessing so many phony deaths had immunized him to the prospect of real mortality; however, ironically, that must sound.

His reality felt hollow, his misconception satisfying. It spoke to him in a language he could understand, loudly elaborating his delusion with each murmur. Only here could he be the man he was destined to become.

“My hunch was right,” the woman with ashen hair, dressed in the same baggy white hoddie he had first seen her at Bunker Hill, crossed into his sights. Her beauty was as pure as falling snow that dissipated when coming into contact with her gentle hair—a genuine Snow White princess.

“…About what, exactly??”

Facing him closer to trace his lines with her immersive blue eyes, she spoke almost in a whisper, enchanting him with her allusion. “This unconquered world is yours for the taking,” her encouragement plunged him deeply into his delusions. “You will be its king. You alone will rule it.”

“…Ha-ha-ha, way to take that out of context,” he giggled, stopping when realizing how serious the woman was. “I missed talking to you,” he rejoiced energetically. “Well then, it’s about time we ended things here.”

Putting the warmth of the nearby fire to his back, Angelo slowly made his way downhill to join the frontline effort. The impactful frostbite debuff popping up underneath his HP bar as soon as he stepped into the mutilated countryside reduced his movement speed and strained his stamina bar with each silent footstep that left a print in the deep snow.

His frustrating walk would soon come to an end.

Neverending powdering snow covered the fallen bodies with a thick blanket of white, clearing the gory stained battlefield with its purity. Although the fresh appearance almost cleaned the battlefield of its many scars, one defiant officer remained watchful. Redirecting his students from the front, he repelled constant attempts and inflicted severe casualties on the attackers. Faced with such tenacious resistance and his subordinates' inability to deal with the obstacle, Angelo came to the frontline with a white flag, something that fell entirely short of his character.

The reason for that was his curiosity. After all, that wasn’t a flag symbolizing capitulation but a signal to parlay. Deep down, he knew that out of all the people in the Portuguese coalition, only those students facing him had put a stop to his ingenious plan. Only they showed the ‘Angel of Death’ that “uncommon value was a common virtue.”

Watched by his comrades' weapons that trailed the enemy’s forward trench from the treeline extending far into the horizon, the Azorean commander moved closer to take a look, stopping at the halfway point on that white snowfield, where he waited to meet his opponent. With the howling wind blowing the flag of truce for all to see, a male officer wearing tattered clothes that resembled more a mixture of rags put together than a uniform climbed out of the muddy trenches and set forth to greet the unexpected guest.

Tension heaped up on both sides as each man drew closer to one another. Looking carefully at the battered position in which his opponent had made such a glorious stand reminded Angelo of the hellish road he had walked to arrive at the place he was now. This man arbors the same ambitions as I do. Why else would he go through all this trouble in a mock match?

“I’m glad we finally got to meet,” the man facing him kicked off the conversation with an honest smile that made Angelo’s unease all the more justifiable. “My name is Simão Nunes, captain of this here, Mirabilis unit.” The handsome blond man with bangs that almost covered his green eyes raised his hand to compliment Angelo, perceiving them as equals.

Ah, the ‘Eagle of Coimbra.’ Like any other institution, Coimbra had a skilled and respected Commander, as well as talented staff officers; Simão Nunes stood at the pinnacle of the bunch. While Rui was the brains behind every successful operation Coimbra undertook during its battles in the qualifiers, its results were only brought about by the actions performed by the 1000-man captain of the prodigy-composed Elite Mirabilis unit. “Angelo Carvalho, UAT Commander. I’m interested in you too; the way you handled the Lithuanians in the qualifiers was…breathtaking.”

“Ha-ha-ha…I’m flattered, although I was only following orders, ” Simão retorted, quickly realizing that modesty was a mistake that didn’t cope well with Angelo when the latter’s expression changed dramatically. But before the captain from Coimbra could undo his words, the UAT commander extended his palm vertically, a sign that meant silence.

In spite of having kept the Azorean students busy for a while, the Mirabilis position was precarious; the surrounding hills covered in snow screamed of movement. Simão was confident that the conversation wouldn't last long.

“I want to know one thing,” the words that came with the terrifying dead-serious look made the captain of Coimbra, a man tried by fire and known for always pulling out of a situation on top, break into a cold sweat. “What do you aspire to become?”

“!”

Feeling the impact of Angelo’s question sink profoundly in his chest, Simão held his breath and then released it; the moist air coming out of his virtual lungs was immediately caught by the elements and forced to undergo the process of condensation. The scenario they had been fighting for the last hours was deep within the Russian tundra, a complete opposite of the warmth they all were so accustomed to in their native land. “Even if I tell you, what difference does it make?”

Angelo took a closer look at the footprints he had left on the ground and then towards the ones made by Simão. “Baby footsteps, that’s how we always start. And I’m sure yours will grow beyond past the rank of captain.”

It was then and there that the ‘Eagle of Coimbra’ understood where Angelo was going and that, no matter his answer, his dream was no secret to anyone anymore. Unlike his commanding officer, whose beliefs turned him and everyone else into chess pieces on a board, with an insight so terrifying it had locked the Eagle in a tight cage. The opposite could be felt in the words of the ‘Angel of Death’, who gave the impression he could unlock his cage and let him roam free.

“The position of Commander of the UC is yours once our Supreme Commander falls, and I’ve taken his place.”

The proposition itself stupefied Simão, almost bringing him to his knees from an invisible impact on the guts; that was how absolutely insane he thought the whole deal was. He doesn’t believe it can be done. Angelo verified by the way his colleague acted: entirely incredulous.

“He’s beaten you until now…one thing is to bring down the elite faction within your university, but that’s not going to be possible for the UC or UL.”

Hah! Got me there; both institutions are breathing grounds for the prodigies, however…" Pedro is stuck in his ‘world of perfection’, how everything he envisions needs to become a reality. I’m sure even now, he’s still rambling about how he lost. The man will always fail because, no matter how anyone sees it, there is no such thing as the perfect strategy.”

The handsome blond man gave a weak smile when he pulled back his bangs, then extended his arms in capitulation, “Your aspirations will either be your downfall or the rise of something new. I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of it…not yet. But that doesn’t mean we have to be enemies either and, to prove that, I’m offering you my surrender. It’s time for this exercise to end.”

The UAT commander remained silent upon hearing Simão’s answer; his black hair did an excellent job of covering his expression, but that soon changed when he suddenly burst out laughing. Angelo was stumped, unsure whether to execute or hug the man who stood there and pretended he was on equal grounds with him by offering his surrender and proposing friendship. “Ahh, thanks for that. I’ll take your friendship at any time of the day. Because I know you’ll come around…”

“R-right! Ha-ha-haaa…so how do we do this? Should I have my people stand down or–”

“I have a reputation to uphold,” the moment he said those words, Simão shivered, sensing Angelo’s darkening aura reaching out to grab him. “We take no prisoners, we give no quarter and take no quarter,” the feard “smile of death” finally illustrated Angelo’s real intentions. “I hope you understand, friend.”

It was his way of paying back Simão for not lending him assistance in his quest for power. In the end, he never meant anyone from the Mirabilis Unit to leave that place alive.

“Whaa…why?!”

The declined capitulation left Simão speechless as sweat poured from his face. Contemplating his options, he examined the cards he had at his disposal. His Mirabilis unit still had over half its members entrenched in a fortified defensive position, which countered his opponent's attacking force that had already been halved due to all the fighting. Nevertheless, regardless of his students being all elites among the prodigy ranks, the fact was, the UAT members had displayed to him a far superior fighting technique, especially when they came face-to-face. And with movement occurring on every hill around their position, the ‘Eagle of Coimbra’ was certain that as Angelo could free him from his cage, he could also lock him up whenever he felt the need to, and the time was ripe.

“In about ten seconds, artillery will send this place to kingdom come.”

“…Huh, quite the Viet Minh maneuver you pulled on us, here….Wait—That’s not enough time for you to evacuate!”

Finally arriving at a conclusion he wanted his adversary to reach, the Portuguese coalition's most feared man grinned and stood there side by side with him. This man is the key to attaining Coimbra’s faction under my veil. And not only that, but he is also an outstanding leader. Had he been a UAT student, Valadão’s position would’ve probably gone over to him. Although he refused to accept his surrender, Angelo showed Simão that no matter what the former’s stance on the subject they’d discussed was, he proved to him that he genuinely saw him as his equal by taking the heat of the UAT’s guns alongside him.

With the sounds of artillery firing echoing at a distance, proving to the UC captain that Angelo’s statement had not been a bluff, and the shells beginning to land all around them, Simão could do nothing but smile awkwardly at that unexpected turn of events. A situation in which both he and his counterparts were blown to pieces to convey mutual respect.