The End of all Things
As the last of the reptilians were vanquished, there would just be the seemingly silent din of a battle's end. Most of the crew that had left New York, along with any of those that had joined them along the way, were now dead. Their bodies lay dismembered along the floor, the teeth of the monsters having rent their flesh and bone into a bloody paste.
But they survived.
"Bozhe moi..." Ivan walked among the dead, kneeling on each man and woman, memorizing every name and face that had been lost to this quest of saving the world... which didn't even work. Did they all die for nothing? Did they set out from the city, travelled thousands of miles just to endure a great slaughter in the end? Why...
"This isn't fair." Ivan knelt beside an all too piece of weaponry; the Cadavre anti-tank rifle that Jean-Luc always carried around. The man himself was nowhere to be found. But Ivan knew what had happened; he was gone. The Frenchman that had become his friend during all those years in the underground of the New York city was lost to the jaws of death, and with him, dozens more have paid the ultimate price...
"Ivan." Andy walked up the Russian, who was now lying prostate on the floor, beating the concrete with his fists until they bled. This man, who had always been so stoic and hard, broke down into tears as the realization that the woman he loved was gone. And they didn't even get a year together... nor did he even tell her his actual name.
"What happened in there?", Ivan asked, wiping the tears off his eyes and cheeks with his sleeves. "The plan... worked, it seems..."
"Uh... Its hard to say..."
Andy glanced at Jean's weapon. "He's gone, isn't he."
"Nowhere to be found."
"We've lost so much..."
"So, are you going with the aliens, along with the rest of us?", Ivan asked. "We're going to space, after all."
"I don't think so. I'll stay here... go to that bunker where we found some old friends."
"Huh." Ivan turned to face Andy. "Well... I'll see you when I see you."
The Bunker
"Captain," Nicholas Ward turned to the leader of the bunker, who was smoking a rather rare vintage cigar on the desk. "It's a success. The friendly aliens that we managed to contact with the transponder that my team and I repaired? They got to Denver just on time to rescue the travelers. Apparently Davin Blackmore was a traitorous bastard, too. They were hunting for him. And they said that he was a... what is this? Metahuman? Someone with special abilities? Unbelievable..."
"Good...", Stavros replied, tapping the cigar. "It's good to know that humankind is not alone in this fight."
"Indeed it is, captain."
"Listen, Ward. We're going to retake this planet with the help of this Federation. Drive the damn lizards back to hell from whence they came. We will then go to their Homeworld, and kill every last one of them." The captain seemed to relish the thought, no matter how impossible it seemed. "Every man, woman and child that had been stuffed down their gullets will be avenged once we kill the last of the lizards."
"That's... ambitious." Ward nodded slowly, not sure if he should encourage the thought. "But that's just... I don't know. It will be very hard."
"Ah, Ward. When will you learn. When there's a will..." The old man handed him a cigar of his own, smiling. "There's a way."
