Chapter 3
The Byg Equation
[DATA: 07. CYCLE 9. YEAR 40 INDUSTRIAL]
[LOCATION: FRONT AT A TOWNSHIP IN THIRA — COASTAL BORDER]
[TIME: 05:30 LOCAL]
[STATUS: OPERATION “WHITE MIST” — ASSAULT PHASE]
Ten days had passed since Halter moved north, yet strangely, until that morning, the front had remained silent. Thira awoke in a damp chill, where dense clouds and a white mist had swallowed the horizon, reducing the city to a monotonous canvas.
?The Bratan soldiers exchanged watch shifts with sluggish movements. It was a deceptive tranquility; only the final chirps of birds and the whistle of the wind through the canals could be heard. War seemed like a distant concept, forgotten somewhere behind that white wall.
?Suddenly, the horizon groaned. A dull, heavy thud made the Bratan soldiers spring into their positions. But the mist was betraying them, obscuring their vision. To their misfortune, it was thickening, isolating the sentries on their islands of concrete.
?The sound of water crashing against the harbor walls was the only thing that remained after each rumble. And then, came death.
?The whistles of heavy ordnance tore through the air from every direction. There was no warning. The shells sliced through the mist with surgical precision, striking the main gates of the front and turning them into jagged fragments dancing in the air. The silence was shredded. The ground of Thira began to shudder under the weight of Panzer-2IV tanks, emerging like black steel phantoms from the whiteness.
[SUBJECT: PANZER-2IV — HEAVY TANK. CALIBER: 88mm]
[OBJECTIVE: FRONT GATES — 78% NEUTRALIZED]
The Bratan soldiers attempted to mount a counter-offensive, deploying Bren G-15 machine guns and grenades to defend the narrow canal bridges. However, Halter had engineered an acoustic trap. From the depths of the mist, the relentless cadence of Geot’s MGV-42s erupted. Their chainsaw-like roar shredded the air, yet it was a mere feint. Halter was utilizing the sonic saturation to mask the true maneuver of the armor on the opposite flank.
?The sails of Thira’s windmills rotated sluggishly, no longer through mist, but through the black smoke of engagement. They loomed like giant silhouettes overseeing the slaughter below.
?Halter’s tactic—a perfected Blitzkrieg—was functioning with the precision of a watchmaker. His infantry had already infiltrated the narrow alleyways. There, the atmosphere disintegrated under the white bursts of flash grenades. These were not merely weapons; they were Halter’s method of informing the Bratan soldiers that they no longer possessed the right to see.
?Within that blinding radiance, panic became the sole commander of the defenders. Blinded and terrified, the remaining Bratan troops were herded like cattle toward the north, precisely where Halter desired them: toward Byg, where isolation and starvation awaited.
[STATUS: WITHDRAWAL OF BRATAN FORCES]
[OBJECTIVES: 128 BRATAN SOLDIERS — KIA]
As the daylight began to fail, the ports of Thira were under the iron heel of Geot. The city burned in silence, while the Bratan survivors fled toward the next front, unaware they were marching on their own accord into the grave Halter had excavated for them weeks prior.
[DATA: 07, CYCLE 9]
?[LOCATION: OUTSKIRTS OF CAPITAL CITY BLIN — ABANDONED BARN]
?[TIME: 23:45 LOCAL]
?[STATUS: RESISTANCE GROUP CONSULTATION]
Night descended upon Geot with an eerie stillness, mirrored by the passivity of the “idealists.” Since their alleyway encounter with Halter, the group had taken no action. They remained in waiting, frozen between hope and terror.
?Inside an old barn on the outskirts, the dim light of a lantern cast long shadows against walls of rotting timber. Peter stood by a shattered window, staring into the black sky, while his comrades surrounded him with a pessimism that only uncertainty can nourish.
?“Peter, do you truly believe we can trust that man?” one of them asked, gripping his vintage firearm. “He is their General. He is death itself.”
?Peter, lost in thought, did not turn his head immediately. His voice came steady, almost resigned.
?“I no longer know what to think. But if what he offered us is true, this is our only chance. The chance to breathe freely, away from Hans’s iron heel.”
?“And if he betrays us?” another intervened, his voice trembling with anxiety. “What if this accord is nothing more than a manifest to lead us to the firing squad?”
?Peter turned toward him. His gaze had hardened, sharpened by the necessity of survival. He exhaled a heavy sigh, like a man who has already calculated the risk of his own demise.
?“For that reason, we are shifting our approach. We won’t go as just the three of us. We will mobilize all our cells and distribute them across strategic points surrounding the assassination site. If the General attempts to betray us, he will be the first to fall alongside the Chancellor.”
?Silence fell over them. The notion of executing a General and a Chancellor simultaneously was staggering. Outside, the night remained deceptively calm, but for these boys, that stillness was suffocating. It was the silence before the earthquake Halter had predicted in his manuscript.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
[DATA: 10. CYCLE 9]
?[LOCATION: COMMAND OUTPOST “HALTER,” PERIPHERY OF THIRA]
?[TIME: 21:00 LOCAL]
?[STATUS: PREPARATION FOR FINAL PHASE: “YELLOW ENCIRCLEMENT”]
Night had fallen over the still-smoldering ruins of Thira. Unlike his soldiers, who had entered the city to loot the spoils of victory, Halter remained in an improvised camp, far from the raucous triumph. In the silence of his tent, he was closing another page in his ledger. He did not celebrate; the victory at Thira was merely the premiere. His eyes remained fixed to the north, where the “cattle” were gathering in the great waiting room: Byg.
?An officer approached with measured steps.
“General, when do you anticipate we initiate the assault on Byg?”
?Halter did not even lift his eyes, but a cold smirk surfaced on his lips.
“We commence the aerial bombardment tomorrow morning. The sooner, the better.”
?The officer’s eyes widened in surprise.
“General, are we not rushing the timeline? The troops require reorganization and—”
?Halter pinned him with a gaze that froze the words in his throat.
“Time is never in anyone’s favor, Officer. If you slow down, you are already dead.”
?Halter stood and exited the tent. Under the light of a full moon—perhaps the last that would see Byg untouched—he pulled out the white handkerchief. A name escaped his lips, so muffled that only the horizon could hear it.
?“You weren’t to blame, Landa... perhaps not even this country. But fate willed it so. And I have only just begun.”
[DATA: 11. CYCLE 9]
?[LOCATION: FRONT AT A TOWNSHIP IN BYG — BRATAN DEFENSIVE SECTOR]
?[TIME: 06:15 LOCAL]
?[STATUS: TOTAL ANNIHILATION OF THE NORTHERN SECTOR]
Morning arrived in silence. Within the dense forests surrounding Byg, sunlight barely filtered through trunks that stood like silhouettes of frozen soldiers. The tension on the front line was suffocating. The Bratan soldiers had not slept; the horror of Thira weighed on their minds like a curse.
?But even silence has an expiration. The sky above Byg suddenly blackened with the silhouettes of Geot aircraft. This was no longer war; it was the engineering of destruction. Hundreds of payloads fell like a rain of death, detonating over the city with a mechanical rhythm. Panic spread like a plague; civilians and soldiers alike ran aimlessly, seeking shelters that did not exist.
?When it seemed nothing could be worse, the PaH 2000 artillery emerged beyond the forest edges, positioned on the opposite hills. Each strike was not merely an explosion; it was a forced rearrangement of the city’s architecture. Walls collapsed, and alleys were intentionally blocked, creating a perfect stone trap for those attempting to flee.
[SUBJECT: PaH 2000 — ARTILLERY. FUNCTION: 3 SHELLS IN 9 SECONDS]
[OBJECTIVE: FRONT AND CITY WALLS — 88% NEUTRALIZED]
Then, an abrupt silence gripped the city. The bombardment ceased. The Bratan soldiers, coated in debris and dust, peered out, believing the worst had passed. They were wrong.
?A yellow cloud, thick and heavy, began to crawl through the ruins. The salty scent of the sea was replaced by the sweet, rotting aroma of mustard gas. There was nowhere to hide. The gas recognized no walls, no bunkers; it sought out lungs, it sought out eyes, it sought every inch of exposed skin. The final breaths of Byg’s defenders turned into a silent plea for death, as the city drowned in a poisonous haze that erased every trace of life.
[SUBJECT: MUSTARD GAS — CHEMICAL AGENT]
[FATALITY RATE: 65% AND RISING]
[DATA: 11. CYCLE 9]
[LOCATION: OBSERVATION RIDGE — OVERLOOKING THE TOWNSHIP]
[TIME: 18:30 LOCAL]
[STATUS: OBJECTIVE CONFIRMATION AND CLANDESTINE RENDEZVOUS]
Halter stood at the crest of the hill, gazing toward Byg. To him, the smoke ascending from the city was not a human tragedy; it was the visual confirmation of a correctly solved equation.
?Behind him, an officer approached with measured steps.
“General, an individual has arrived. He claims to be an old acquaintance.”
?Halter shifted his gaze slowly. A trace of surprise—a rarity for him—crossed his features. He headed toward an old, cracked structure serving as a temporary outpost. Inside, seated on a wooden chair, sat a man in a black suit, smoking a cigarette with an irritating composure.
?“Donxhi... what brought you here, you bastard?” Halter asked, narrowing his eyes.
?Donxhi, a man in his forties, turned with a smirk and stood, extending his hand.
“Is this how old friends greet one another, Halter?”
?The General didn’t even bother to touch his hand. He shoved past him slightly, forcing him back into the seat.
“Friend? I didn’t think you’d have the audacity to face me after you betrayed me and left me behind at Truppen Asy.”
?Donxhi rolled his eyes in feigned discomfort but maintained his cool.
“What a memory you have... That’s in the past. I wasn’t as brave then; I was fighting for my own skin.”
?Halter etched a bitter sneer.
“As if you are any braver now, coward,” he whispered, before shifting his tone. “Speak plainly. Why are you here?”
?Donxhi lit another cigarette, filling the room with heavy smoke.
“First, I came to congratulate you on the victory. It was a true spectacle to witness from the podium. Now, to business: My revolt will soon topple Itan government. I will seize the state. And... I know you are planning to take the helm of Geot as well.”
The room grew grim. The heavy scent of tobacco mingled with the cold atmosphere of treason.
“Where are you going with this?” Halter asked, his voice freezing.
?“It’s not a threat, Halter. It’s a request to consolidate our forces. An ironclad alliance.”
?Suddenly, Halter’s face brightened. A strange, almost joyful smile appeared on his visage.
“I believe that would be in the best interest of both parties. We can forget the past... for the moment.”
?The two men shook hands over that dark accord. Upon Donxhi’s departure, silence fell once more, only to be shattered by an officer entering with rapid breaths.
?“General...” the officer struggled to mask his anxiety. “I believe we must cease the mustard gas deployment. Most are already dead. It isn’t necessary to kill them all...”
?Halter stared at him with a coldness that transcended the boundaries of the norm.
“If that is your assessment, then you have never grasped the essence of war. We will not stop. We will eradicate everything that moves down there.”
?The officer remained frozen, terrified. Halter opened a desk drawer, produced a sealed envelope, and walked past him without a glance. Outside, he handed the envelope to his most trusted courier.
?“Take this. Deliver it to the U-731 Institute, Xapan.”
?“By your command, General,” the courier replied in a low voice and vanished into the darkness.
?Halter walked slowly toward the ridge’s peak. Byg no longer resembled a city. It had been transformed into a gargantuan, yellow, stagnant cloud. A mass grave beneath the open sky.
