Reliable Excavation & Demolition: A Rotten World, and Pure Chaos

Akame and Leone stepped through the doors of their hideout, the weight of the night's events still fresh in their minds. The scent of old wood and oil lamps filled the dimly lit room as they approached Najenda, who sat at the long table, fingers laced together in quiet contemplation. Lubbock lounged nearby, idly flipping through a book, while the others listened with interest. Sheele absentmindedly sharpened her massive Teigu, while Mine sat with her arms crossed, tapping a finger against her arm impatiently.

Leone was the first to speak. "Mission accomplished. Gamal and Captain Ogre are dead." Her usual grin was subdued, and Akame, standing beside her, simply nodded in confirmation.

Najenda studied them carefully, her sharp gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. "Good. But something tells me there's more to this report."

Akame, ever direct, responded without hesitation. "We weren't the only ones involved."

That earned a glance from Lubbock, who set his book aside. "Let me guess—those mercenaries?"

Leone crossed her arms, exhaling. "Yeah. The big guy and that suited one, at least. They didn't attack us, but they were watching from the shadows."

"More like looming," Mine muttered, scowling. "That brute's built like a damn fortress."

Najenda leaned back slightly, exhaling smoke from her cigar. "Which means they're the ones who compromised the messenger." Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

Akame's expression remained unreadable, but Leone grimaced. "They didn't mean to screw things up. The messenger still delivered the request, but…" She hesitated before adding, "They had someone else with them."

That earned a few raised eyebrows. "Someone else?" Lubbock repeated, frowning.

Najenda didn't look surprised. "Describe them."

Leone tilted her head in thought. "Young, fit, wearing armor, not like the mercenaries. He looked like he could be Imperial Army, but his stance was different. He carried himself like someone who wasn't used to this kind of work, but he still had fight in him."

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Mine's scowl deepened, and she crossed her arms even tighter. "Tch. Another problem for us to deal with."

Lubbock leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "So, what do we do about them? Just let them roam free?"

Najenda took another slow drag of her cigar. "For now, we watch. They aren't enemies—not yet. If they wanted us dead, they've had chances to strike. But that doesn't mean we trust them." Her gaze hardened. "If they become a threat, we eliminate them."

Sheele paused in sharpening her weapon, glancing at Najenda. "They were fighting Ogre, right? Doesn't that mean they're not completely against us?"

"That's what makes it complicated," Najenda admitted. "But we can't afford to make assumptions."

Leone let out a small chuckle. "Well, the big one didn't seem like much of a schemer, just a brute. But the other one? He's got that sharp, calculating look. Feels like he's always two steps ahead."

Najenda nodded. "Exactly why we can't underestimate them." She turned her gaze toward Akame. "Keep an eye on the young one in armor. If he's with them, we need to know what side he's really on."

Akame gave a simple nod, her crimson eyes unreadable.

Lubbock exhaled through his nose. "If he's Imperial, then he's already our enemy."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the discussion settling over them. The battlefield had just become more complicated, and Night Raid couldn't afford to let their guard down.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden light through the windows of the REDs' mansion headquarters. The warmth of the afternoon did little to ease the weight pressing on Tatsumi's shoulders. He sat hunched over at the workbench in the common room, absentmindedly running his fingers over the scratches and dents on the wooden surface. The air carried the faint scent of oil and metal shavings, remnants of Engineer's endless tinkering. The hum of distant conversation and the occasional clang of metal on metal echoed from deeper in the mansion, yet to Tatsumi, it all felt strangely distant, like he was sitting in a space apart from it all.

He had barely spoken to anyone since last night. Ogre was dead, his first real battle against the Empire's corruption won, but instead of feeling triumphant, a nagging sense of unease sat heavy in his chest. He had trained, learned, and fought alongside the REDs, but something still felt… off. The way they approached battle, the way they carried themselves—it was different from what he wanted. Different from what he believed in. The REDs operated with a detached efficiency, their battles fought with a mix of strategy and ruthless pragmatism. There was no hesitation, no moral dilemma—just the job. In a way, he admired that. But it wasn't him.

A shadow fell over the workbench.

"Somethin' on your mind, kid?" Engineer's voice was calm, carrying that usual easy-going drawl. He pulled up a chair and sat across from Tatsumi, resting his arms on the table. His ever-present goggles were pushed up onto his forehead, and his gloved hands idly toyed with a wrench. It was a familiar sight, one that should have been comforting, but instead, it only made Tatsumi more aware of how much he didn't belong.

Tatsumi exhaled, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "I… don't think I belong here."

Engineer raised an eyebrow. "That so?"

Tatsumi nodded, gripping his hands together. "You and the others… you've been good to me. You saved my life, taught me things, gave me a place to stay. But…" He struggled for the right words, his gaze dropping to the floor. "You're mercenaries. You don't really fight for ideals, do you?"

Engineer leaned back slightly, watching him. "That depends on what ya mean by 'ideals.'"

Tatsumi frowned. "Night Raid fights because they believe in a cause. They want to tear down the Empire, stop the suffering it causes. You guys… you're strong, but it feels like you fight because it's just what you do."

Engineer let out a quiet chuckle. "Can't say you're wrong about that." He tapped the wrench against the table idly. "Most of us? We've been fightin' so long, it's just second nature. We don't get too caught up in 'right' and 'wrong.' We do the job, make sure we get out alive, and move on to the next one." He met Tatsumi's gaze. "But that ain't you, is it?"

Tatsumi shook his head. "I thought I could follow your way, but… it doesn't feel right. I want to fight for something bigger than myself." He clenched his fists. "I want to fight with Night Raid."

A long silence stretched between them. Tatsumi expected resistance—maybe even an argument—but instead, Engineer just gave him a small, knowing smile.

"Well now, look at that. You figured it out all on your own," he said, tapping his temple. "That's the kind of thing a man's gotta decide for himself."

Tatsumi blinked. "You're… not mad?"

"Why would I be?" Engineer shrugged. "We ain't your jailers, kid. If this is the path ya wanna walk, then walk it. Ain't nobody here gonna stop ya." He leaned forward, lowering his voice just slightly. "Just make sure it's what you really want. 'Cause once you choose a side in this war, there ain't no turnin' back."

For a moment, Engineer's expression changed—just for a flicker of a second. Something deeper. Regret? Experience? Tatsumi couldn't tell, but it was there. It made him wonder if Engineer himself had ever been in a similar situation, choosing a side with no way out.

Tatsumi inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of those words settle over him. But this time, there was no hesitation. He looked up at Engineer and nodded.

"I've made my choice."

Engineer gave him one last, appraising look before leaning back in his chair. "Alright then." He reached for his mug of coffee, taking a slow sip before smirking. "Hope them assassins know what they're in for."

Tatsumi couldn't help but chuckle at that. He had learned a lot from the REDs—strategy, discipline, how to keep himself alive—but he had also learned something more important. The kind of warrior he wanted to be. And for the first time in a long while, his path felt clear.

Engineer watched him carefully before setting his wrench down. "One more thing, kid."

Tatsumi looked up, waiting.

"You ever need somethin'? Even after you're gone?" Engineer scratched the back of his neck. "Ain't sayin' I'll come runnin' into a battlefield for ya, but…" He smirked slightly. "You ever need a fella with a bit of know-how, you just ask."

Tatsumi was taken aback but felt a warmth in his chest. He gave a firm nod. "I'll remember that."

Engineer tipped his hard hat. "Good. Now go on, kid. Got some things to take care of before you go makin' friends with assassins."

Tatsumi stood, stretching his arms before turning towards the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, he took one last glance back. Engineer had already gone back to tinkering, but there was something different in the way he moved—like he was thinking about something else. Something from long ago.

Tatsumi took a deep breath and walked forward, leaving the workbench—and the REDs—behind.

Engineer sat on the worn-out couch in the mansion's common room, idly turning a wrench in his hands. The dim glow of an oil lamp cast long shadows across the wooden floor as he exhaled through his nose. He had already known Tatsumi's decision before the boy even voiced it—some folks just weren't cut out for their line of work. And that was fine.

Across from him, Spy stood with his arms crossed, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. The faint cherry-red ember flared as he took a drag before exhaling a thin plume of smoke. "Hmph. Figured as much." His tone was indifferent, but there was a knowing glint in his eye. "The boy had heart, oui, but he was never much of a spy."

Scout, who had been leaning against the table with his arms folded, scoffed. "Yeah, well... can't say I'm surprised." He shifted his weight and glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, I guess he was alright—when he wasn't tryna get himself killed." His voice lacked its usual cocky edge, betraying the fact that he actually did give a damn, even if he'd never admit it outright.

Heavy, seated nearby with his hands clasped together, remained silent for a moment. His heavy brow furrowed slightly before he let out a low rumble of a chuckle. "Tatsumi is strong," he said simply, his deep voice carrying a quiet warmth. "He will fight well."

From the corner of the room, Sniper leaned against the wall, arms crossed, hat low over his eyes. "Not a bad kid," he muttered. "Had guts. Let's hope he knows what he's getting himself into." His words were gruff, but there was a hint of approval in his tone.

Demoman, who had been silent, took a swig from his flask and sighed. "Aye... lad's got spirit, but he's walkin' into a war he ain't ready for. Here's hopin' he keeps his head."

Pyro tilted their head, letting out a soft, unintelligible murmur before twirling their flamethrower idly. Whether they were sad, indifferent, or simply lost in their own world was anyone's guess.

Medic, who had been scribbling notes on a medical chart, merely smirked. "Ah, vell, zis is how ze vorld turns, ja? Perhaps he vill be back someday—if he survives."

Soldier, standing at attention near the fireplace, clenched his fists. "A DESERTER, HUH?!" he bellowed, only for Engineer to shoot him a warning glance. Soldier's nostrils flared, but after a moment, he huffed and crossed his arms. "Hmph. If he wants to go fight for some other team, FINE! But he better not slack off! WAR DOES NOT TOLERATE THE WEAK!" Despite his harsh words, there was a begrudging respect hidden beneath his bluster.

Engineer finally looked up from his wrench, offering a small nod to the group. "Ain't no shame in walkin' a different path," he said. "Boy made his choice. Only thing we can do now is respect it."

There was no argument. No one voiced any resentment or protest. Tatsumi had been with them for only a short while, but they all knew he wasn't one of them. He had too much conviction, too much idealism. Their ways—cold, efficient, and ruthless when needed—weren't suited for him.

Spy took another slow drag before flicking the spent cigarette into a nearby ashtray. "Well, if he ever crosses our path again, let's hope he remembers to aim straight."

Scout huffed. "Yeah, yeah. Guy better not get himself killed before we see him again."

Heavy simply nodded, his gaze distant.

Engineer stood up, tossing the wrench onto the table with a soft clunk. "Alright then, boys. That's that."

And just like that, the discussion was over. No fanfare, no drawn-out goodbyes. Just a silent understanding between men who had seen too much of the world to dwell on things beyond their control.

Tatsumi was gone. And life moved on.