December 31st. Here it is - another line between two years, 835 and 836 A.S. This was different from 833 A.S., when the entire staff (or almost the entire staff) gathered on Dabadoru to take a single group photograph. Of all those in that photograph, only a few survived to the end of the Expedition. The souls of the others were lost in the Abyss. And only one damned one returned to set everything right.

But they succeeded. They won. They ensured that the deaths of their comrades were not in vain. Through the combined efforts of the newly minted agents and veterans of the Brigade, Andry Scott and the nightmares that followed him were destroyed. Burned, forgotten forever.




Alfred sat on a bench by the river, which was already covered in ice. Snow was falling on Akabat. The falling flakes from the clouds obscuring the star Omicron Mu created a romantic atmosphere at 5:00 a.m. It was still dark, but a lamppost near the bench dispelled the darkness, just as the Order had been trying to dispel it for 35 years.

He looked at the ice on the river and thought about the past. About how he had ended up in the 116th Squadron, about his long journey in the 34th Brigade, and about how he, of all people, had survived the Expedition. He still remembered his years in the Bundschuh and how he had left, choosing the path of protecting all humanity, casting aside the internal strife within his own House. So much had happened, and he was still alive...

Footsteps. The crunch of snow underfoot. Someone was approaching. Alfred turned at the sound and saw Adam Helson. He was walking with his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. Approaching the bench, he exchanged glances with Alfred and sat down next to him.



CV-Hades arrived at its destination. The trial was launched and proceeded more quickly than expected. 34th Brigade presented all possible evidence in their favor, the most important of which was Andry's body. What was there... It was no longer human. Something utterly horrific and incomprehensible to the mind. People don't talk about things like that. William Scott provided his perspective on the events. Second Division provided assistance to the Brigade and planned an attack on Andry, who was sure to appear in person. Although suspicions will still be voiced and questions will still be raised, officially the Brigade is in no danger. Nor are anyone who had a hand in its creation.

Jimmy Manderson also learned why others couldn't see Andrey Scott's personal file in the Order's neural network. It turned out to be much simpler than it seemed: Andry's personal photo was infected, causing memory loss of viewing his file. The camera footage was also infected, so... He should have figured it out sooner: Jimmy quickly programmed the camera to blur and opened Andrey's file. Now it all worked. The personal file was so infected that editing the code was also impossible: when viewing, the memory was also erased. But it was impossible do much with the blur effect. At least the Brigade now has another piece of evidence.

But who entered the infected element into the personal file?

Adam and Alfred turned around together at the sound of crunching snow. Colonel William Scott approached them. They both remained sitting, which would have been considered a violation of regulations, but they knew each other too well to follow those rules. Only in the presence of others. William sat down next to them and handed the papers to Adam.



The sun was already appearing on the horizon.






The lights on the cruiser went out just as Jimm finished speaking. His crew had no trouble fighting their way to the relay room before plunging the entire cruiser into darkness, and five minutes later, shutting down gravity and life support systems. For him and his men, this was standard procedure for those times when they needed to storm an enemy vessel. And the Hades, today, was that vessel. But for others, it was unexpected and uncomfortable. Fighting in zero-gravity or airless conditions isn't difficult if you're prepared. But when you're hastily changing positions and fighting styles because you're floating in the air, your prepared opponents will have the advantage. Adam Helson and Jimmy Manderson were with Jim at the time. They were freed first and had to reach the bridge. Only then would gravity, air generation, and temperature control be restored to the ship. But until then, they were on equal terms with the 34th Brigade assault team.

Ten minutes later, laser rifle fire began flashing throughout the ship. Neither side wanted to give up their positions: for the Brigade, Hades was something of a sacred place; for the Order, an object to be delivered from point A to point B; for the infected, a place where everything would be decided. Scott's pawns obeyed "officers," if that's what you could call the monsters with incubi inside them. And they were the most troublesome. And when such an officer died at the hands of the assault team, the unfortunate ones, their minds clouded, panicked. They begged for mercy. They forgot everything. They were afraid and felt a primal dread. Imagine falling asleep in your room and waking up on the battlefield, fighting for something you don't even know, and now the barrel of a rifle was pointed at you.



Samuel didn't want to do it. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Mike caught up with him.



The last thing those unfortunate enough to survive the death of their "masters" saw was a flash of red light erupting from the barrel of a rifle, giving them the death they deserved. The veterans of the Expedition, those who survived it and remained sane, revealed a different side of themselves to those who were lucky enough to join the crew of Hades in November 834 A.S. The veterans had seen things even the most seasoned agent of the Order wouldn't want to witness in person, much less experience again. And they'd been experiencing them over and over for a year. Suicides, sacrifices, bloodbaths - and that was just the tip of the iceberg of the madness that unfolded aboard the cruiser and its accompanying vessels in the Abyss. So the more the infected officers delved into their minds, the more insane the assault team became. Trying to hallucinate and drive them mad, they only fueled their rage, turning them into something sinister, something no man of the Order should be. And at some point, small groups began to cross the line and descend into a bloody rage. The torments of the fallen were broadcast over radio frequencies to their allies. Not every member of the Order who came to Hades to deliver him to Omicron Mu could calmly surrender. The line between Homo sapiens and primitive creatures was blurred.

They were driven by anger. Hatred. Helson and Jimmy weren't any luckier than the others: they fought their way through with the others and slowly descended into rage with them. But before they even reached the bridge, they felt the tension mounting.

Andry Scott was heading for the cruiser. Or rather, his capsule was heading there.

In a frenzied rage, all the Brigade veterans rushed to the ship's hold, hoping to catch the man they hated. When the capsule appeared before their eyes, they all felt a sudden loss of strength. This creature refused to give up.


Nimes found the strength to grab his rifle and then get closer. The others began to actively help him, preparing for the worst. Just as the capsule began to open, revealing the monster, suddenly...


At that very moment, Helson and Jimmy found themselves on the bridge. Filled with rage, they prepared for the assault, but the sudden disappearance of the nightmares that had haunted them for a year told them the infantry had achieved its goal. But madness doesn't go away overnight.


Thirty minutes later, a discussion about what had happened took place on the bridge. All the cards were laid bare, as was the entire plan to capture Scott. The decision was made to continue on course. Those who died that day were either forgotten forever or relegated to the ranks of human heroes, even if they died at the hands of their own comrades.

The details of the assault were kept quiet.





An explosion. The ship rocked, and everything in his head was jumbled. The enemy had successfully locked onto his tail, and it looked like Waldemar wouldn't be able to survive another missile launch.


The "Tau-5" signature appeared in the clouds and the thick of the battle. A Bastet MK2. As if fresh from Carthage and ready to defend humanity with the latest technology.


Waldemar's slowly moving ship became part of the attack formation, the flagship of which was the "Omicron-93", Lucas's "Anubis".


Both walls of fighters rushed to attack, seeking more advantageous positions to strike or provide cover for their comrades. Waldemar tried to squeeze the maximum out of his ship, to reach the battlefield and finish Scott off himself. In this chaos, he would be too busy with the others to attack him directly. This was his chance!


Another explosion. The ship began to spin, the remnants of the nanobots began to seal the hole. At least air leaks, pressure drops and temperature changes were avoided. But even such a split second was enough for Waldemar, coupled with everything else, even with all his preparation, to begin rapidly losing consciousness.


Gathering all his strength, he fumbled for the ejection lever. The last thing he saw before the capsule sealed him from space was the one who hated him most, Lucas De Richard, firing the final shot at Andry Scott's ship. Bastet burst into flames and began to disintegrate, like many of the 341st and 41st Wings.

He was real after all.

Jimmy Manderson began rifling through the files. He assured them he'd find the source of the infection in Andry's personal file. He looked like a fanatic, nervously rifling through the documents, rechecking every saved file about Scott. Everything was infected. Absolutely everything! Holding the camera in front of his face, he could only see a blurry image, but as soon as he looked away, he saw a blank image.

Who could it be?! How could this have happened?! He wasn't sleeping well anymore. He practically wasn't sleeping. He was so immersed in uncovering the cause that he wanted to know, to get to the bottom of it, as if there was something higher than he could imagine. The deaths of his friends, the deaths of his comrades on the Expedition... Everything could be for nothing if he didn't find out how Scott had managed to do this.

Or... He didn't want to know? Who was editing Scott's personal file? Who was behind the entire bureaucracy of the 34th Brigade? Why didn't Andry visit Jimmy like the others? It can't be, he must have just been lucky. Surely that's how it is... Surely...


Scott was controlling Jimmy when he made the edits. All that contamination in Andry's personal file, all those diabolical lines of code, and the image of an ordinary person so horribly distorted for the human mind... Jimmy did it all. And then Scott implanted memories in him that he was doing it not before returning to Sirius, but after. That's why Jimmy thought everything was fine. That's why he spent the whole year deluding himself, unaware of what he had done. As this thought flashed through his mind, Jimmy remembered Victor's article, Alexandra's notes, those death cases... He slowly closed his laptop, went over all the thoughts in his head again, and realized there was no mistake.


He wrote a note. They would find it later. He found a chair and cut his sheet, making a makeshift rope. He pulled out the photo of his guys taken in 833 A.S. So many faces, and now almost none of them were around.






His family. His Brigade. His home. And he was the one who took part in the destruction of his home. He loved them all to the last. It hurt him to see one of his friends die. Behind the thick skin of the Brigade bureaucrat, who had seen much, hid a pure soul that was afraid. Afraid that this would be on her conscience. And now the skin cracked, and all the horrors poured into Jimmy's soul. It was all on his conscience.

Jimmy Manderson Wrote:"Adam, I understand everything. I deleted all the files about Andry and rewrote them myself, including everything I wrote down on paper. You can consider this a correction of those mistakes. Everything you'll find is there. Now this death is officially documented. The expedition has come to an end. Finally.

The files were infected, and whoever did it left you this note. I didn't suspect it myself until the very end, and then it dawned on me. Or rather, I didn't want to suspect it. I was afraid. I was afraid that everything we'd been through over the past few months was entirely my fault. This blood is on my hands. And I'll have to pay for it.

I have no forgiveness, and you know it. If it makes you feel better, all the documents are in order. Whoever wants to come to us will have to work hard to get to the bottom of the slightest mistake, which doesn’t even exist. I also left you a list of people who could be candidates for my position. Rest assured, they're cool guys, and I've done my best to ensure the next generation of paperworms are worthy.

Give my best wishes to the guys. I hope they get well soon. I love you all very much, guys, and I don't want anyone else to suffer because of my mistakes.

Tell Victor I loved him. I hope it was mutual, though I doubt it. Okay, enough of the sentimentality.

Time to take another step."

Putting the photograph next to the note, he stood on the chair. He knew exactly what he had to do. He stuck his head through the noose. Kicking the chair back with his feet, Jimmy felt the pressure of the noose around his neck. The air grew thinner and thinner...

Darkness gradually clouded his vision, granting him the death he deserved for what he had done.

---

---

It would be sheer blasphemy not to mention what became of the characters after the internal events concluded. We respect those who journeyed with the 34th Brigade from start to finish and were able to participate in our events in one way or another. However, we will only mention those who played a key role in the events, whose characters were present almost exclusively.

The list lacks any significant characters, and they're scattered around. However, you'll spot the main villain in any way.

@"Perfect Gentleman"