The drill grounds sure are big, huh…
Lancers! We come with ROCKET LANCES!! They’re ROCKETS!!!! On LANCES!!!!!!!
Now where have we
POWERTHIRST seen this before?
Our BLAST-RESISTANT CLOTHING!!! protects us from EXPLOSIONS!!!!!!!!
Well that’s pretty co—
My name’s Noel, by th—
No one else here, huh? See you all in the field!
Valkyria Chronicle 2’s trio of laughs, intelligence and clumsiness
It takes a special kind of stupid to hold one’s breath to the point of near-suffocation just because someone told you to be quiet.
We still love you, though, Cosette.
Time for class, huh?
Hey you. Mr. Class Chair.
I DON’T suck! I also taste like licorice!
Whoops, let me just patch up that broken fourth wall there.
I hope we’ll get along famously, whatever the heck that means.
Anyway, I’m off to make sweet, sweet love to my machine gun. Quite literally!
I LOOK FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU, DICKS.
…you still suck.
This must be the mess hall. Good thing, too, because I’m sta—
What the hell?!
…yeah, I’m gone.
Europe, 1937 AD!
Oh, I’m sorry, Europa, EC 1937.
Whatever, SEGA, you’re not fooling anyone.
So anyway, 2 years ago, in AD— I mean EC 1935, the East Europan Imperial Alliance (which shall henceforth be shortened to “the Empire” because who wants to remember that) and the Atlantic Federation (the “Federation”) were at war, with little tiny Gallia caught in the middle. See, though, Gallia, even though it’s TINY, has ENORMOUS underground deposits of Wonderflonium… I’m sorry, I’m being informed that it’s called “Ragnite.” But yeah, this Ragnite is apparently the best energy source in the history of ever, and everyone was fighting over it. The Empire invaded Gallia to get ahold of all this juicy, delectable Ragnite, which was bad news for Gallia’s citizens, because who likes being invaded? Not me, that’s for sure.
Anyway, Gallia was none too happy with being invaded so rudely like this, so they called up their militia to combat the invading Imperial forces. Under normal circumstances, this would be like fighting a horde of elephants with a single ant, except apparently this ant had nuclear superpowers and was made of titanium or something, so Gallia won. Yay for happy endings.
Oh, except this wasn’t exactly a happy ending, because at the end of everything, the Archduchess of Gallia revealed that she, and by extension the ENTIRE GALLIAN ROYAL FAMILY, was of Darcsen blood, and Darcsens are basically the Jews of this franchise. I say that because, well, it’s really appropriate considering how Jews were being discriminated against at the time in actual history. Now, suddenly finding out that one’s ruler was of an “inferior race” would obviously piss some people off extra, so a bunch of Gallian soldiers defected from the militia and formed the Gallian Revolutionary Army, or the GRA for short, but I’ll be referring to them as the Rebels from here on in. The leaders of the rebel movement were a family known as House Gassenarl, which are the main antagonists of our story, as well as proud members of the Names To Run Away From Really Fast club.
Where was I? Ah yes, the Rebels. Anyway, since Gallian law forbade the formation of a militia to combat internal threats, the responsibility of fighting the rebels fell to the students (yes, STUDENTS) of Lanseal Royal Military Academy, the oldest and most prestigious (and as we later learn, the ONLY) military institution in all of Gallia. And that is where our story begins…
Mellvere, EC 1937
Just another lovely day in this quiet little village, hmm hmm, nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong as I am OBVIOUSLY not the protagonist or anythi—
My name is Hubert Brixham. I’m a teacher at Lanseal Royal Military Academy. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your brother, Leon Hardins, is sort of dead.
GODDAMMIT— wait, “Sort of?”
Whoops, sorry, ignore the PLAINLY OBVIOUS FORESHADOWING. Yep, he’s dead.
How could my brother be dead? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK HE IS?
The narration would like to take this time to remind the readers that this is NOT Gurren Lagann.
…Aaaaanyway, how did he die? I mean, he IS dead, right?
Yes, Avan, he is dead. Yep. Mmhmm. But anyway, I’m not allowed to tell you anything that goes on at Lanseal. National security and all.
Well then, I’ll just have to ENROLL at Lanseal! THEN I’ll find out the truth! Because THERE IS OBVIOUSLY NO WAY THAT MY BROTHER COULD BE DEAD.
In that case, you’ll need this application form, which I definitely did not bring along with me on the chance that you’d react to the news of your brother’s death by deciding to enroll at Lanseal! Nope, pure chance. Yessiree.
Well isn’t THAT just convenient!
Avan goes and makes his way to the academy after like a week, because apparently hotheaded blind determination is only good for so much.
Apparently you need to wear the uniform just to get in. Welp, looks like I’m out of luck.
Psyche, I’ve got a loaner right here or something! Time to go change!
Avan arrives at the classroom, where he must do battle with his greatest nemesis: ACADEMICS!
OH NO! MY GREATEST NEMESIS: ACADEMICS! Oh well, better get this over with.
HI DESU IS THIS SEAT TAKEN DESU
OH GOD A FEMALE
Sure, go right ahead! My name’s Avan by the way.
MY GOD WILL BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP
Avan fails the test. Or does he?
Next up is the field test, though, and that means SHOOTING THINGS!
OH MY GOD
Avan and crew shoot things! And pass the field test, but who cares about that?
Alright, you all passed. But you also suck, so you get put into Class G, full of people like you who also suck. Happy hunting!
WHO CARES, WE MADE IT!
DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT THE DRILL INSTRUCTOR SAID
And thus began Avan’s life at Lanseal.