The year is 1942. The United States has been given a rough wake-up call. Back on December 7th of 1941, the American Pacific Fleet found its Sunday morning interrupted by Japanese bombers and torpedo bombers. The attack was ruthless.

In the coming weeks, while America licked its wounds from Pearl Harbor, the Japanese Empire officially joined the Axis Powers with Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy, beginning to attack and conquer America's territories in the Pacific. Guam, Wake Island, American Samoa, the Mariana Islands—none were spared. Not even the Commonwealth of the Philippines, America's de-facto East Indies colony in all but name.

You are one of the many American soldiers sent to the Philippines before 1941, when every American still believed war—whether in Europe or the Pacific—would never happen.

Yet here you are, fighting invading Japanese forces since December 8th. By April of 1942, the defensive fight for the Philippine Commonwealth has become a lost cause. Unable to reach the rest of MacArthur's forces to evacuate, you and your fellow soldiers had no choice but to surrender.

Surrounded by Japanese forces that see you as less than living beings for surrendering, you watch their Field Marshal approach—a Japanese dragoness named Ayame with a look of disgust on her muzzle.

"Your forces have abandoned you, petty Americans," she says in surprisingly fluent English. "It was inevitable for our glorious empire to fight your nation one day, and now we've subdued the titan that threatened our imperial ambitions." From the way she speaks in her warrior manner, it's clear she views Japan's enemies as inferior beings destined to be subdued by the sword.