Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
The seasons cycled in turn, bringing no obvious natural changes to Terra.
The Emperor had not left the laboratory beneath the Himalayas for two years, because everything was proceeding in an orderly fashion. Neither he nor the one in the mobile fortress needed to personally oversee every matter.
But for those living under the rule of the Eagle of Flame and Thunder, things were far from calm and peaceful.
For soldiers on the front lines, war was fierce.
For the people in the rear, war was stirring.
On an orbital transport carrying the newest graduates of the Imperial Army Academy, Charle sat in one of several hundred seats. A cup of coffee rested beside him, while his military cap and the insignia that graduates like him would soon pin to their shoulders lay on his lap.
The insignia of these military academy students differed from those worn by graduates of every previous class and specialty—a sword plunged into a gear.
News broadcasts played continuously aboard the transport.
Charle kept his attention fixed on the news playing inside the cabin.
"Commander Taranis of the Thunder Warrior Legion and the Marshal of the Imperial Army jointly stated that the offensive against the Ursh Empire capital fortress will conclude this month."
"This fortress has held us off for two years since our war with the Ursh Empire began. Let us hope the two commanders' statement is not an optimistic estimate, but fact."
"..."
Charle watched the news.
The classmate beside him leaned over and whispered, "It's been two years and they still haven't taken that fortress. Before my dad deployed to Ursh two years ago, he came to visit me at school and said the Ursh people wouldn't last a month. Now I've graduated, and my dad's still stuck