Location: 20km West of the former Hawaiian Islands

  "There! Dead ahead, position 2 o’clock, 300 meters!"

  From the bow of a patrol boat, a sailor pointed into the distance. Following his finger, the vessel slowly approached an object bobbing in the waves. It was identical to the recovery pod Sam had used.

  Through the frosted glass, a young woman lay inside, eyes tightly shut. It was unclear if she was sleeping or dead. She had sun-kissed skin and raven-black hair; her face was a near-exact match for Adela Barton, the Chairwoman of the AnD Group, though she looked much younger—perhaps seventeen or eighteen.

  The patrol boat flew a white flag emblazoned with a stylized, aggressive black boar’s head. On the hull, bold letters read: "Barbat Maritime Patrol Force." About a dozen sailors stood on deck. Compared to the Tahi Empire’s battleship Fury, this boat was barely a tenth of the size.

  The sailors crowded the starboard side as the boat pulled alongside the drifting pod. A crane swung out, and several sailors worked together to hook the cables and hoist the strange object aboard.

  Once the pod was secured on the deck, the crew gathered around to inspect the anomaly. It was the first time any of them had seen such a device.

  "What is it? A torpedo?" one asked. "Doesn't look like it," another shook his head. "There’s a human inside!" the sailors whispered, pressing their snouts against the glass.

  "Probably suffocated. Some sick bastard must have locked it in there and tossed it overboard," the commander surmised. "See if you can pry it open. I’m sick to death of seafood; we’re having roast human tonight."

  The sailors began fumbling with the lid. After a few moments of failing to find a latch, a large Pig-man stepped forward with a heavy iron crowbar.

  "Back off! I’m going to smash this damn thing open!"

  He raised the bar to strike, but the pod suddenly hissed. The seal broke, and the lid began to slide open on its own.

  "Whoa! It’s opening!" The crew cheered in anticipation.

  As the lid retracted fully, they leaned in to look at the girl. She wore a black, form-fitting tactical suit. In the old world, her physique would have graced the covers of elite magazines.

  "Oh?" The commander’s eyes widened. Clutched in the girl’s hands were two black objects—advanced assault rifles, modeled after the AKV-521.

  Suddenly, the girl’s eyes snapped open—cold and sharp. In a blur of motion, the muzzles of her rifles swept upward toward the surrounding Pigs.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  The muzzles spat crimson flame. 7mm rounds tore through the skulls of those leaning in; they collapsed backward instantly, blood spraying across the deck.

  "What?! What’s happening?!"

  The survivors scrambled back in a panic, blinded by the sudden roar and flashes of light.

  A small shadow leaped from the pod, a continuous trail of muzzle flashes following her movement. Within seconds, every sailor on the deck had fallen, their blood painting the white hull.

  The girl lowered her weapons. Wisps of white smoke curled from the barrels like delicate silk threads.

  She walked over to the commander. He was gravely wounded but still breathing. She looked down at him with ice in her eyes and asked:

  "Do you understand my words?"

  "Ye... yes!" the commander stammered, his pain eclipsed by sheer terror. He had never seen a human do anything like this. To him, the girl wasn't a human; she was a demon—a blood-drenched devil.

  "Good. Answer truthfully, and I might consider letting you live." "Yes... yes!" He nodded frantically, his voice small and subservient. Facing that cold steel muzzle, he had completely forgotten that his kind was supposed to be the masters of this world.

  "How long have you filthy, stinking pigs been ruling the world?"

  "W-what do you mean? I don't understand!"

  The commander was horrified. He had never encountered a human capable of fluent speech, but what truly terrified him was the girl's arrogant, superior attitude—the attitude of a predator looking at prey.

  The girl paused to think, then clarified: "I mean, how long have you low-life animals existed on this earth? This is a history question. Did you go to school, or are you just a beast?"

  "I went! I went!" the commander trembled. "Then tell me: what did your teachers say about your origins?"

  "Well... it was... about 900 years ago. The Holy Warriors defeated the Great Evils and drove them from the Great Land, pushing them back behind the Mist. Our kind then began to build our lives on the Great Land and prospered into what we are today."

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  "The 'Great Land'?"

  "The territory where our kind lives. It’s divided into four regions: East, West, South, and North. We are currently at the far eastern edge of the East Great Land... There is a detailed map inside the cockpit," the commander wheezed, pointing a trembling finger.

  "And the 'Mist'? What is it?" "The Mist... it separates the Great Land from the Demon World!" "Be more specific." "The Mist surrounds the Great Land. It keeps the demons from entering."

  The girl grew pensive. After a moment, she asked: "There’s an island near here, isn't there?"

  "You mean Shield Island? It’s 20 kilometers to the East. If you want, I can take you there!" the commander said quickly, his voice laced with a hidden desperation.

  This pig is up to something, the girl thought. She wasn't wrong. The commander intended to lead her to the island and secretly signal his comrades; Shield Island was a major military outpost of the Barbat Empire.

  "Sam! Scan for signals from the Hawaii base!" the girl said to herself.

  Suddenly, a male voice echoed in her head—a voice identical to Sam’s:

  "Mistress Ade, the signal from the Hawaii base is still active, approximately 50 kilometers to the East. It appears 'Shield Island' is indeed what used to be Hawaii."

  "Thank you, Sam." "My pleasure, Mistress. Please command me if you require further assistance."

  The girl, Ade, looked back at the commander. "Tell me about Shield Island. Tell the truth, or your brains will be mixed with the deck boards."

  The commander turned pale. "Shield Island is the easternmost outpost of the Barbat Empire. No civilians live there—only special forces."

  "Special forces?" "Yes! A unit called 'The Mist-Breakers.' Their job is to stop the demons coming out of the Mist from invading the Great Land."

  "Sounds interesting," Ade said, a cold smile playing on her lips. "How many soldiers? What’s their equipment?"

  "5,000 personnel. 3,000 combat troops, the rest logistics. Three artillery regiments, two armored divisions, four destroyers, one submarine, and ten small patrol boats."

  Ade listened intently. "And where is this Mist you mentioned?" "Ten kilometers East of Shield Island!" "Thank you, you stinking pig. You may go now."

  Ade raised her AK. The commander shrieked in terror: "I told you everything! You gave your word! Please, don't kill me!"

  Ade lowered the gun slightly. "Oh, that’s right. I did promise not to kill you. Fine. You can leave now."

  "Go... go where?" The commander looked at his dead crew and the vast, empty ocean surrounding them.

  "Where you go is your business, not mine. I’ll give you two minutes to get off this boat. If you’re still on board after two minutes, you’ll find out exactly what 'brains on the deck' looks like."

  Ade’s voice was like ice. The commander’s face contorted in despair. Jumping into the ocean with his wounds was a death sentence, but staying meant execution.

  "In that case... you might as well just kill me!" he sobbed.

  BANG.

  A hole appeared between his eyes. A spray of blood and grey matter coated the floor. He fell back, dead before his body hit the wood.

  "You said it yourself. I gave you a chance to walk," Ade muttered.

  She smiled slightly, appearing almost amused. There was no hesitation or mercy in her—only a deep-seated, ancestral hatred for the creatures before her.

  Ade walked into the control room. The interior was massive, designed for creatures twice her size. She found several maps and documents regarding Shield Island.

  "Sam! Record all of this."

  Ade began flipping through the pages at an incredible speed—barely glancing at them before turning. In minutes, she had processed data that would have taken a normal person days to study.

  "All documents scanned," Sam’s voice echoed in her mind. Ade stood up and took the wheel.

  Just then, the radio crackled: "Patrol Boat 5! Report. What was the floating object?"

  Ade didn't panic. "Sam, adjust my vocal cords. Mimic the commander’s voice." "Understood, Mistress. Commencing simulation."

  A few seconds later, Ade felt a strange sensation in her throat. She coughed twice and spoke. "Testing! Testing!"

  The sound that came out was the gruff, porcine voice of the commander. She keyed the radio.

  "Report: Nothing suspicious. Just a piece of driftwood. Over." "Copy that. When are you returning to base?" "Heading back now. Over." "Roger. Hurry up, there’s a party tonight." "Understood. See you then."

  Ade switched off the radio and turned the boat toward Shield Island. She then systematically destroyed the communication arrays and navigation equipment.

  "What is the plan, Mistress? Are we going to kill all 5,000 soldiers?"

  "Don't be ridiculous. There are 5,000 of them. We’ll land, scout the situation, and improvise. The priority is reaching the AnD center to retrieve what we need and find out what actually happened at the end."

  "I wonder what has become of humanity," Sam’s AI voice said, monotone and devoid of emotion. "Based on the Pigs' conversation, it seems humans are merely food."

  "My mission was to protect humanity," Ade whispered, staring at the horizon. "But now humans are cattle and pigs rule the world. It seems the mission is... difficult."

  "Let's look at the data we have," Sam suggested after a silence. "Initial report: The world currently consists of 12 nations, spread from Africa to the Pacific. The westernmost point is the Cape Verde islands; the north is Rudolf Island in former Russia. The south is South East Cape. And the east is former Hawaii. This region is called the 'Great Land,' surrounded by a Mist that separates it from the Americas."

  "So the former Americas are where the 'demons' live? Are they the ones infected with the S-Virus? Is it possible humans still live there?" Ade mused.

  "It is possible. They might even be highly advanced. However, the Mist is described as lethal to living organisms. To find them, we would have to cross it."

  "Are there any 'thinking' humans left in the Great Land?" "Unknown," Sam replied.

  "Fine. We’ll hit the Hawaii base first. The Pigs have developed a civilization; the task is near impossible." Ade’s hands tightened on the wheel. Her angelic face was masked by a shadow of vengeful rage. "The mistakes of the past drove humanity into the abyss. I will fix it all."

  She sighed. Sam remained silent, monitoring her vitals. She was highly agitated.

  "No plan has a 100% success rate, Mistress. Do not torment yourself. Furthermore—" "Enough. I don't need comfort. I know what you're going to say... but it's unnecessary."

  Ade cut him off. She didn't know where to start. Humans were meat; pigs were the masters.

  "Where did the Mist come from?" she wondered aloud. The AI lacked the data to answer, so it remained silent.

  "I think... I’ll have to go in there eventually," she whispered.

  Ade steered the patrol boat toward the eastern shore of Shield Island. She found a desolate beach, anchored in a hidden cove, and slipped onto the island.

  "According to the map, the Pig base is quite far, but the AnD signal is coming from nearby," Sam informed her.

  "The Pigs must not know the base exists," Ade reasoned, stepping into the dense, overgrown jungle. "Otherwise, there wouldn't be a signal left to find."

  The jungle was silent, save for a creeping, bone-chilling cold.