41. Pre-War Preparations (Complete)

Burning.

Burning, burning, burning—

Cato Sicarius probably did not realize he was shaking—or rather, shivering—until several minutes later. The sound of his teeth clattering together resembled an irritable blacksmith hammering his anvil to vent his fury.

No one who had experienced anything similar needed to think too hard to know that it felt awful. But, generally speaking, it was still within his tolerance.

His Chapter possessed many long-standing legacies of the spirit, condensed into pithy maxims and passed down through generation after generation. Sicarius was especially fond of one of them—know no fear.

These four words were exceptionally brief, yet they carried so much. Countless tears of blood, sacrifices, and acts of courage lay within them.

So he gritted his teeth and endured.

He was not resisting the shivering; that was nothing. What he fought with all his strength was the voice, and the visions it brought.

"Burning. Everything is burning, Cato Sicarius. I saw the driver, John von Bo, burn to death in his seat. His body withered and cracked amid the flames, and the sound of his flesh bursting was no different from dry leaves rustling beneath wheels."

"He was the first and only one caught by the flames, yet he was the last to die. Everyone else was dragged out. Those people pierced them with knives made from bone and spears made from wood, pinned them to the earth, then brought more knives and began to skin them."

"As they screamed, the driver John von Bo was filled with rage."

"He was close to death, yet he busied himself unfastening his seatbelt. He did it with melting fingers, but he no longer had the strength to rise. That fire had long since turned his bones and muscles into part of a slurry of blood."

"The culprit responsible