前のエピソード――Chapter Four Part Eight | Tone Matters

[--CHAPTER FIVE: JORMUNGANDR--]

　第五章ティーザー

　Chapter 5 Part Ø | Where It's Cold

　至誠に悖る勿かりしか

　-Hast thou not gone against sincerity?-

　言行に恥づる勿かりしか

　-Hast thou not felt ashamed of thy words and deeds?-

　気力に缺くる勿かりしか

　-Hast thou not lacked vigor?-

　努力に憾み勿かりしか

　-Hast thou exerted all possible efforts?-

　不精に亘る勿かりしか

　-Hast thou not become slothful?-

　"North; as far North as the land permits. Unrelenting blizzards tear forests limb from limb with howling winds. There is no rain, only snow.

　Uninhabitable, not a soul in their right mind would live there.

　The prime candidate for a power cloaked in mystery to reside."

　12:00 ― Northern Federation ― -26°C Light Snow

　"Anzhu Lane, the frozen beauty of the Northern Federation. A military base so monumental, it supersedes the size of countries. Many go their life never seeing both sides, despite living there. It's ports, supreme in scale and construction, merge with the icy abyss."

　A muffled crash echoes across the port - Large machines tasked with preventing the freezing of water. Appearing like frozen creatures, prowling the sea.

　"The powdering of snowflakes lather every surface they grace. Never a day with unobstructed sun - the Gods command for endless snowdrift to cover those lands."

　Just stories. That is all those are. Never once has any member of the NDECK seen these lands, yet, they do exist, quietly.

　Too far to reach, too far to see, and too far to hear.

　Those concrete quays; shards of forming ice fight against their hold. These seas and this land, controlled by the hands of eternity. It is always dark, hidden by a perpetual blizzard that plumes into the sky. Bells of ships ring eerily across this darkened land, giving sight where there is none.

　Northern Federation Navy, it's 1st carrier fleet moored, patiently waiting to spread a cold flame across the globe at the Tsar's will. Hulls of destroyers, cruisers, their heavier sisters, torpedo boats, all holding icicles dripping down their steel.

　They bob, almost silently, in those torturous waters.

　The black chasm of no-return stares up at them, whispering like a siren.

　Beyond the speckled snow and fog, two silhouettes of giants, rocking upon the waves. The two flagships of the 1st carrier fleet. Sovetskog, and her iron born sister, Kronsh.

　Aircraft carriers, waiting, watching.

　Ominously.

　Sovetskog sounds her engulfing horn, filling the port with signal and warning. Waves cry as they become split and disturbed.

　The 1st carrier fleet is on the move.