Chapter 675

"I’m probably the most qualified person here to talk about that."

Peggy Carter raised a hand and pointed at Evenson.

"No matter how seriously he takes the subject, his understanding of war ultimately comes from books and secondhand accounts. He’s never actually been on a battlefield."

"I have."

"I fought in the largest and bloodiest war in human history: World War II."

"Heh..."

The subject was heavy enough that the laughter of Saloras came as a surprise.

"But I think I have an even stronger claim to that title," she said.

Aurethes picked up where her twin left off with a shrug.

"After all, we’ve experienced more wars than you’ve probably even heard of."

"I can guarantee that neither of you understands war the way I do."

Peggy rubbed the bridge of her nose, clearly irritated.

Decades had passed, but she still couldn’t stand anyone treating that war like a joke.

The Eredar twins didn’t argue.

They had certainly fought enough wars to fill several lifetimes. The Burning Legion had even conducted postwar reviews from time to time.

But those reviews had been about strategy.

What worked. What failed. Which commander had made the better decision.

As for what war actually meant to the people fighting it?

That was another matter entirely.

Their attitude had basically been:

Had a good time? Press one.

Had an amazing time? Press two.

Had an absolutely fantastic time? Press three.

Didn’t enjoy yourself? Disconnect.

But even the twins could sense the weight behind Peggy’s words.

They had never cared much about the suffering of mortals, but they recognized the grief in her voice.

So for once, the two demons stopped joking.

They listened in silence, giving the war she remembered the respect it deserved.

"I sent a lot of people off to war," Peggy said quietly. "Eventually, I went myself."

Her voice carried the weariness of someone who had lived through something she wished she could forget.

"We all knew what picking up a rifle and stepping onto a battlefield meant. There was a very real chance we’d never come home."

"And yet we went anyway."

"Before that, we had all sorts of lofty ideas."

"We were fighting to defend humanity. To protect freedom. Some even believed they were fighting for glory."

Peggy shook her head.

"But once you actually step onto a battlefield, those fantasies disappear."

"There’s only one reason left to fight."

Claire looked at her.

"What is it?"

"Survival."

Peggy smiled faintly.

"To keep our families alive. To keep the people we care about alive. To keep our fellow countrymen alive."

"And ourselves."

"You might think that’s too simple. Maybe even too selfish."

She gave a bitter little laugh.

"But that’s the truth."

"War really is that simple."

"Some people who have never seen combat like to dress it up in grand theories. They talk about war as an extension of politics. They debate strategic offense and strategic defense."

Peggy’s expression hardened.

"But from where I’m standing..."

She gave a cold snort.

"War comes down to two things."

"The aggressor starts it because they want something."

"Power. Land. Wealth."

"Even when people wrap a war in religious language and claim they’re fighting to punish sinners, strip away the speeches and you’ll usually find the same hunger underneath."

"And those of us who resist?"

"We fight because we don’t want the invader to destroy our homes, kill our families, and kill us."

"We fight to survive."

"To continue living according to the way we believe we should live."

Peggy looked around the room.

"That’s war."

"There isn’t much room for pretty words in it."

Her words struck Claire like a hammer.

Claire had fought before.

She had been through plenty of battles.

But war had always been something distant to her, something she understood intellectually without ever truly grasping.

"Then..."

Claire hesitated.

"Didn’t you ever think about the importance of humanity? Or honor?"

"Heh."

Peggy’s laugh held no humor.

"War is organized slaughter carried out by human beings against other human beings."

"The battlefield is a hell painted red with human blood."

"Who goes there to sing praises about humanity?"

"Who feels honored by the deaths of thousands upon thousands of people?"

She stared directly at Claire.

"If someone genuinely did?"

"They’d be the real monster."

"But..."

Claire was lost again.

She still couldn’t find an answer.

Yet after hearing Peggy describe what war was actually like, Claire had begun to understand.

Not completely.

But enough.

There was still one thing she couldn’t let go of.

"People are human because they have humanity."

"If we abandon that humanity, we become beasts."

Claire looked at Peggy.

"Is that really worth it?"

"Of course it is."

Peggy didn’t hesitate.

"Human beings can’t defeat monsters."

"Only monsters can defeat monsters."

"To overcome a savage enemy, sometimes we have to become monsters ourselves."

"Just as defeating the devil might require us to descend into Hell."

"But then..."

Claire looked around the room.

"Wouldn’t that make us the same as our enemies?"

"We defeat them, only to become what they are."

"We destroy the monster and become monsters ourselves."

"What would any of it mean then?"

"Win or lose, we’d no longer be able to live as human beings."

Peggy looked genuinely puzzled by the question.

"Why do you assume that has to be permanent?"

"If we win, we survive."

"Even if becoming monsters is what it takes to survive, survival means we still have hope."

She stepped closer.

"Human beings evolved from apes."

"If we survive, then even if we’ve become monsters along the way, we still have the chance to find our humanity again."

"But if our nation is destroyed..."

"If our people are wiped out..."

"If every last one of us is dead and buried in some mass grave..."

Peggy’s voice grew colder.

She approached Claire until they were standing almost face to face.

The eyes beneath Peggy’s mask burned with pure demonic fire.

"Then we don’t even get the chance to become monsters."

Claire’s expression changed.

"So..."

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"This is what war is?"

"Exactly."

Peggy’s voice was old and tired.

"This is the damned reality of war."

"It brings blood. Death. Grief."

"No humanity."

"No glory."

"Nobody who has experienced a real war ever wants to experience another one."

More than sixty years of relative global peace had followed World War II.

The nuclear balance of power deserved much of the credit.

But perhaps the war itself deserved some as well.

Humanity had learned exactly how horrifying war could become.

That didn’t mean the world had been free of violence during those decades.

There had been conflicts all over the globe.

But compared to true total war, many of them were closer to contests or controlled clashes, conflicts whose boundaries remained within the grasp of the people directing them from behind the scenes.

No one wanted to unleash the kind of war Peggy was describing.

A war of survival and extinction.

Because that kind of war couldn’t be controlled.

Once it began, everyone would be fighting for their own survival and for the continuation of their people.

No one could guarantee they’d be the ones left standing.

That was why people who casually mocked politicians as cowards and fools while hiding in comfortable corners and talking lightly about the virtues of war were, quite frankly, detached from reality.

"There’s the problem."

Evenson finally stepped forward.

"We don’t want to start a war."

"But that doesn’t mean war won’t come looking for us."

He placed both hands on Claire’s shoulders.

His gaze met hers.

"And when it does, we’ll have no choice but to fight if we want to survive."

His voice softened.

"So whether we’re trying to win this war..."

"Or simply trying to escape it alive..."

"We have to become monsters first."

He looked directly into her eyes.

"Do you understand now, Claire?"

...