Star Soldier Zackarack SIDE TRACK: [I-XI-I-III]

Oswald Verse 2: "AND Curiouser"

The train screeches to a stop as I wait inside Waterloo. The concoction of oil and gas flows throughout the platform as everyone else begins their commute. I simply wish to get home to process the information that I've been given, but leave it to me to just pick the busiest station in this damned city to go out on.

Believe it or not, urban life isn't something that I'm really fond of. Or at least the part of urban life that has to make me communicate with other people. Now granted, espionage does require some form of talking. But I feel that the only things worth talking about to me are the things that get the objectives taken care of. Whether it be talking to the subjects in disguise or reporting back to HQ.

London Spies are the most efficient spies, really. Compared to every other continent across the globe, England could be considered the chief of intelligence. Leading up against the United States and Asia themselves. Even if we're all divided into different "Clubs", we still abide by the rules set up by Her Majesty's Secret Service all those years ago.

Yes... The secret service. The first of our kind. The forefathers of English intelligence. They've been around longer than even these trains that bustle around me. They were quite the inspiration for all of us. All before they went under the thrall of the grander government and just became another asset to parade around.

Amongst this crowd of people, I begin boarding the engine. The tokens that I've buried deep within my pockets would themselves inside the coinbox near the door. Tokens that are exclusive for the sake of transportation, and one of my many tools to at least camouflage myself within the people around me.

Although of course, there could be other spies from other clubs on board. Although no violence or confrontation would ensue. No one would dare to even risk blowing their cover inside a crowded train with countless bystanders around.

London: The city of steam and chameleons. Either blending inside the streets or running around the rooftops. Truly, we are all a quite unique breed of snake.

But as I take my seat, my mind finally drifts into something more important as the passengers around me settle in. My own personal objective to complete starting tomorrow.

Terra Gear... A resistance group somehow managing to aid alongside an actual country. And with technology that can rival the German Empire's knights and dragons. Dawkins really did have a point sending me out to investigate. My father was a former manager of a well-known Russian arms factory, but the evidence that I've seen... Everything seems quite odd.

The pictures showed me images of walking tanks. And yet, they weren't particularly massive either. They just appeared to be like massive suits--just like the knights--. And yet... They can carry those massive arms on top of them? Cannons? Flamethrowers? Gatling guns? If those really are suits, than how can one man really dress himself like a walking death machine that can be easily on par with armored knights with massive heated claymores that can fire massive shells that can puncture holes the size of a grenade into a tank within a radius of five meters?

And yet... What madmen would even think of giving some small army this equipment?

The train would then begin to move. And so, my mission would then begin. All starting from the office and onto this station at Waterloo.

Truly, whomever is behind Terra Gear has to be either insane to be given that equipment... Or they're too driven to help end this conflict.