In the U.S. Army's standard structure, a heavy brigade comprised six battalions:
Headquarters (command)
Cavalry (recon)
Support (logistics)
Artillery
Two combined arms battalions (the muscle: tanks + mechanized infantry)
The rogue tank belonged to Battalion B, one of the two combined arms units. Each such battalion fielded four tank companies (14 M1A2 Abrams each) and four mechanized companies (14 M2 Bradleys each).
When the battalion commander ordered the tank's original company to retrieve it, the lieutenant in charge cursed, requisitioned gas masks from Support, and gave chase with his remaining 13 tanks.
Luo Shu's real plan? Hitch a ride with them.
But each Abrams had four crew slots:
Commander (calls shots)
Gunner (technical)
Driver (technical)
Loader (brute labor)
No spare seats.
Even with a stolen gas mask, Luo Shu needed to replace someone.
He flipped to Page 115 of the Anomaly Archives:
Identity Warp (courtesy of A Certain 049).
The choice was obvious:
Commander/gunner/driver required skills he lacked.
Loader? Just muscle.
His eyes locked onto a hulking Black soldier—biceps thicker than Luo Shu's thighs—donning his mask.
Identity Warp activated.
The real loader froze, gripped by existential crisis ("Who am I? Where am I going?").
Luo Shu took his place.
The Abrams' top speed: 66.77 km/h. El Paso was minutes away.
Thus began the absurd chase: one "stolen" tank fleeing, 13 "loyal" tanks pursuing.
Tank Talk
Inside the rumbling steel beast, the crew chatted:
Commander: "What's this Luo Shu guy's deal? How's he this OP?"
Gunner, furious: "Top terrorist. Some high-tech phone virus—killed millions!"
Commander: "Yeah, but how'd he vanish? Two battalions + artillery couldn't nail him!"
Driver: "Asian voodoo, probably. Heard they can kill you with a strand of hair."
(Luo Shu internally scoffed. That was an anomaly power—but not "Asian voodoo.")
Commander: "Gotta be voodoo. Survived a Daisy Cutter? Now he's jacking our tanks!"
Gunner, punching the hull: "Damn it! Alan's on that tank!"
Commander, eyeing Luo Shu: "Jamie, you're quiet. Scared shitless?"
Laughter.
Luo Shu—now "Jamie"—had absorbed the loader's memories. He'd stayed silent to gauge public perception.
Clearly, the Foundation's anomaly secrecy held firm.
For a wild moment, he considered leaking the truth—but dismissed it.
"God" hadn't reset the world post-SMS meme. Why?
(Good for me—no memory wipe.)
But exposing anomalies might force a reset. Not worth it.
Instead, he played devil's advocate:
"Something's off. Dude's 'top terrorist' but no past attacks? Popped outta nowhere."
A glaring plot hole in "God's" frame-job.
The commander snorted: "You saying our democratic government lied? Asians are all terrorists! Facts!"
Gunner: "Hell yeah! News said the East was untouched! It's a conspiracy! Nuke 'em all!"
(...Wow.)
Luo Shu had underestimated American anti-intellectualism.
Since the pandemic, their denial of science, truth, even reality had hit performance art levels.
Telling them the truth? Like teaching pigs to sing.
The path of revelation was a lonely one.