A black sea that caws on land—that is what that army of crows is. With their beaks they tear at the flesh and devour the eyeballs of the corpses carpeting the now slumbering battlefield. The birds, with their intelligent gazes and glossy plumage, take flight when you approach in your uniform, which is the same color as their wings, only to land again a few seconds later, leaving you in a mobile and everlasting circle.
Your Belichology partisan cap protects you from the unforgiving sun, and straps hold the bolt-action rifle to your back. In your hand, the PDA with an integrated radar guides you among the bodies to find the dog tags made of metalcorona—that virtually indestructible material bearing the names, mission, and blood type of their owner. You lean down, pick one of those chains with tags from among charred bones, scan it with your PDA, and now there is a new name to memorize in The Mortuary. A mother, or a wife, or a father, or a son will finally be able to mourn a loved one.
You continue the arduous journey. You stumble upon a rather fresh body, in the sense that it still retains its eyes and face. A very good-looking girl, despite her dead and empty gaze. The PDA didn't indicate any dog tag, but you decided to search anyway. With the delicacy instilled in you, you move the body until the barcode on the back of the neck is exposed to the sun. You sigh, set the head down, and scan the code with the PDA. The harvester that produced it now knows that one of its products has fallen. To conclude the task, you shout three names:
"Aurora, Amelia, Ángela!"
The triplets rush to reach your position, riling up the birds of ill omen. Three little white sisters with golden curls and European features reach you, bringing the rest of your equipment and supplies. Francesca found them and taught them, and from the competent way they take out the saws and pincers, and begin to dismember the harvested girl's body for subsequent recycling, it is clear she instructed them excellently. The parts end up in a garbage bag, which you then take charge of carrying. Ángela accidentally damaged the kidney, and faced with her tearful expression, you plant a hand on her hair and comfort her with kind words.
It's worth returning the flesh and organs to the creating corporation; they are always generous with compensation. Besides, an honorable mission like yours relies on donations and gifts to function.
Oh, divine war! Thy will be done!
Ending 3: Believer.