[Blue Archive] I am the Trinity Checkpoint Chief – Bonus 3.1

“Iroha, no matter how I think about it, I can’t understand. Why am I here?”

“It’s probably Hikari’s karma.”

My tank-riding peer doesn’t get it, but I’m worried sick. A tank aside, am I supposed to stop Trinity’s forces from reaching the Pandemonium Society’s assembly with one rifle? Is this a humanly achievable goal?!

Even if Steyr firearms are masterpieces, one gun can’t overturn a battalion.

The Pandemonium Society—our student council—failed miserably. Losing significant forces at the border in an instant, we had to hastily build city defenses. With Director Hina unconscious, what’s the Prefect Team doing? Do they even want to fight?

It’s unusual that our capable Intelligence Department didn’t predict this. Satsuki-senpai was competent in operations, so what’s gotten into her?

“Then talk to Makoto-senpai again.”

“Why?”

“She might listen to you.”

…Is she teasing or serious? With recent sudden changes, I’ve barely seen Ibuki. Is she holding a grudge? The clueless tank rumbles.

“I didn’t do anything today. Are you mad because I didn’t give you cocoa?”

Sigh—Iroha let out a deep breath.

“I was serious. Everyone knows you’re important in the Pandemonium Society.”

“Nonsense. Then why am I stuck here? Does Makoto-senpai think I can stop Trinity? I don’t even know how.”

What can a second-year with nominal authority as Chief Advisor do?

“At least hold out a few days?”

“It’ll end when your shells run out.”

I know my limits. I’m not in a position or capable of doing anything in war. In the Pandemonium Society, my role was signing final documents or helping Makoto-senpai with tough tasks.

This stems from recent history. I’m practically the last remnant of the former student council president’s era.

Post-“Revolution,” much changed. The Emperor stepped down, the Pandemonium Society was restructured, and freedom overflowed from oppression. People cheered, then lost interest in politics.

The Federal Advisory Council was Gehenna’s upper house. As dozens of members left, remaining seniors followed in panic. I stayed, becoming Chief Advisor.

“Iroha, I’m ordinary. Not a hero to end wars or a genius to shift tides.”

“Hmm, I think you’re worth your keep.”

Sigh—damn it.

If I could curse the one who caused this nightmare to their face, how great would that be?

I’d fire a couple of bullets at least.

The cruise missile that struck the Cathedral wasn’t the end. Not even the start of the end. Perhaps it was the end of the beginning.

Days of tragedy led to the regime’s impeachment. The Pater faction or whatever—damn schemers—ended centuries of Trinity’s Tea Party system. Misono Mika boldly ascended the throne.

We barely mitigated the Eden Treaty Incident. But Trinity turning out like this… damn it.

“Damn it, really.”

“What, cursing out of nowhere? Finally sick?”

Iroha was shocked at my sharp words. It’s become routine.

“Nothing. I don’t get why Trinity’s become a madhouse.”

“It’s a miracle we held on. Hikari, you know how you handled the Eden Treaty Incident, right?”

Now I can lament, but back then, we were in real danger. Makoto-senpai’s collusion with Arius was exposed, and Director Hina vanished—an unprecedented crisis.

To top it off, I was the Pandemonium Society’s Senior Administrator for days after it broke out.

I had to act.

With the Pandemonium Society at risk of being branded traitors, every meal felt like it could be my last.

***

Four Days After the Eden Treaty Incident

I stepped onto the podium for the first time.

O Humanity—Manna Committee Missing

With burning steel structures and gathered comrades, I thought:

Are they all dead?

Panicked, I took on acting duties when that document was found.

According to the final “Treaty to Eliminate National and Ethnic Crises,” the Pandemonium Society allied with the Arius Branch. In exchange for weapons and support, they’d divide Trinity.

The assembly was shocked. What did our revered Chair do? This is treason, plain and simple.

Someone said: If this leaks, the student council is done.

Countermeasures were swiftly discussed. As long as the emergency lasted, we could control the media, so we resolved to build a positive image with some achievements.

The issue was who’d make them. The assembly shouted:

Senior Administrator!

Why?

Because you’re senior!

Damn it. These guys use seniority like this.

I thought about fighting back, but no choice. We’d all die otherwise.

As the last remnant of the Federal Advisory Council, there was one way. Captivating people in parliament means a speech. The Emperor knew this too well.

I announced a national address via radio. In an academy with 3% voter turnout, what could I expect?

A 10% listenership would be a win.

Ugh—thinking back, I should’ve bet on it.

No one expected it, right?

We now broadcast a critical message. All listeners, please stand.