That Wounded, Old World (IC; Far-PMT; Invite Only)

[Gigaverse]

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"... and then, there would be that big firework show in Nagoya...", a petite blond said, as she poured a cup of coffee.

"Are you trying to persuade me to go with you to Nagoya, to no avail?", another blond one, with a long ponytail behind him and a golden-phoenix-decorated eye-patch, received the cup of coffee from her and replied almost instantaneously.

"Well... it's not like I have this chance every now and then... I would rather just be able to stay easy like this... for good.", she said, pouring herself another cup of coffee before adding milk to it.

They both sighed, looking at their respective drinks. Suddenly, someone entered the room. A bespectacled man, with three large horn-like pointy things sticking out of his hair - as the girl would describe it.

"Iza. Agnessa. You two enjoying yourselves?"

"Agnessa seems to.", the blond man calmly replied.

"Well, couldn't blame it on anyone. Now, I have something else to show you."

Two small tabs showed up in front of the blond man.

"You know these lads?", asked the man with glasses.

"Yes. Me.", there was slight sarcasm within the voice of the blond man, despite his straight face.

"Well, be more specific."

"Sakahara Keiji - Reality Code: NFE-001-JHV-ISK-Z:I; Sakahara Yami - Reality Code: FFE-0F1-FMW-LSY-Z:H. Why asking?"

"Well, wouldn't it be part of your job to care?"

"Not right now. I still have this cup of coffee to gulp down."

"If you feel like it, bring Agnessa along. Bring all of the girls along, I don't really care."

The man with glasses left the room. Agnessa Angelova - the blond girl - looked at SS - the blond man.

"So... no fireworks?"

"I'll make it up to you when the time comes.", SS said, finishing his cup of coffee, then stood up.

"Because I don't have much free time. Not when I'm one of the Group.", he said.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero
Holy Japonian Empire; ???

January 4th, 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan
1102 Hours

From within the helmet, Yami merely smirked.

"Not just the hour, Hightower. I've managed to steal several days from you now. Not you, not Raven, not anyone here can do anything about that.

Let me get this straight: if I'm not totally mistaken, my guess is, what you're going to do is to threaten me with all the fancy methods of destruction because you simply are too hopeless; right? What are you hoping to earn yourself, an one-way ticket to the guaranteed obliteration of everything? Listen, Joe: I'm not a fool. You can always throw anything at me and those men loyal to me out there, but you will never have guessed when will entire glittering cities on the Frenkish mainland will collapse; or just when will everyone there... die simultaneously. Don't think you are the only one who won't go through extensive lengths to achieve his goals.

Now, if what I said is truly what you want..."

Zero then pointed his pistol towards the direction of Raven.

"How about we settle the score here with muscles instead of brains?"

From within the helmet, Yami still continued to smirk. It was psychopathic, but nonetheless, it showed disgust against Hightower.

[New Frenco Empire]

Corporal Einan Dunlap

3rd Jump Group; Orbital Marine Corps "Exo Company"; Imperial Space Force

January 4th, 2293
Russia, Caucasus Mountains, Krivoshchekovskaya
2155 Hours

Dunlap could pick out the communist insurgents within the tree line, shadowing the city, waiting to strike. The BMP Johnston commandeered was approaching through the rough path, towards the village. In the village, Dunlap could pick out the militiamen patrolling about. It was somewhat late, so most of the people were retired to their homes. Within a minute, it became apparent that the only means of linking the village to the outside world was gone. Many of the village's inhabitants walked outside their homes and businesses, and looked at the satellite station. Several of the citizens approached the militiamen, apparently pleading for them to fix it.

Dunlap pointed his rifle towards the center of the left road, where an elderly couple was speaking with a female militia soldier. After a moment of dialogue, the militiaman reached into a side pack and pulled out an old walkie talkie of some sort. After speaking into it, she awaited a response. After repeating herself, she turned a knob on the side, and spoke again. After a few lines of dialogue, she replaced the radio, and gripped her AKM. She began walking down the path, upwards, towards his position. "Ready whenever you are," Johnston transmitted. Dunlap took a deep breath, and flicked a small switch on the rifle's scope. The scope's HUD put the soldier's torso in a box outline. This box would flash green whenever the crosshair was pointed at an area that the shot calculator determined would be an ideal place to fire and hit the target. Dunlap pointed upwards a bit, and to the right. The box immediately changed from red to green. He took the shot.

The 10mm slug (magnetically accelerated, of course) slammed into the woman's chest, piercing right through her, sending a red spray ten feet upwards. The nearby militiamen scattered, eyes peeled on the horizon for a sniper. Not five seconds after her body hit the ground, Johnston's BMP sped through the treeline, into the village. The communist rebels followed the armored vehicle in, firing at fleeing militiamen and taking positions behind any cover they could find. The civilians were even more frightened, many running into their homes, closing the doors, and even turning off the lights. Others, however, tried to find safety in the militiamen. These unlucky few were caught in the crossfire, and fell to New Bolshevik bullets. The BMP, however, was holding it's fire, serving only as a mobile cover position for the insurgents. "Johnston, MG in that window! Second story!" Kindale transmitted, as a heavy bout of automatic fire poured visibly from a two-story house adjacent to the advancing communist force, cutting several of the brave Bolsheviks down.

"Got it," Johnston said, as the BMP's autocannon pointed at the window nest. It released a heavy stream of rounds into the top level of the building. The entire roof collapsed on the gunner and his crew. "Hell yeah! Now I remember why tanking was so fun!' Johnston transmitted gleefully. Dunlap picked out a few more targets, mostly militiamen who peeked out of their cover to fire at the overwhelming enemy. After downing about three of them, Kindale grabbed his shoulder. "RPG, on that roof!" He yelled. The BMP was slowly making it's way down the path, while a militiaman with an RPG-7 managed to sneak around to a rooftop behind it. Just before he could squeeze off a shot, Dunlap managed to pick him out, and put a round in his head. The rocket was fired, and it flew upwards as the soldier's lifeless body fell to the ground. "Nice shot, Corporal. I think it's time we relocated. Comrade?" He said, switching his conversation from Dunlap to the Russian woman. She pointed to the right. "We go to that ledge, now! Several of my comrades are pushing advance to the side road!"

Kindale nodded. "Alright, let's get a move on!" Dunlap ordered, as he sprinted down the path. Dunlap secured his rifle, and followed the pair. "This is good," Comrade said, as she put her hand up. "Alrighty. Dunlap? Do your magic. I'll let you know if there's anything worth taking a shot at down there." Dunlap nodded as he balanced his rifle on a fence post. "Those machine guns are ripping my comrades apart!" Comrade complained loudly, as Dunlap witnessed an entire squad-sized group of Bolsheviks fall victim to the fire of several emplacements placed along the street. Dunlap set about picking his targets, when he noticed a few black specks on the horizon. He took a quick peek at them. They were getting closer and closer to the airspace above the village. He pointed his rifle at them. These specks were actually aircraft. "You see that, Dunlap?" Kindale asked. "Those are Mi-95s. Dropships. Too advanced for the militias to own. You know what this means?" Kindale sighed. "Looks like the nationals are about to rain on our parade.

[Ardavia]

January 4th 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan
1105 Hours

Raven

"Hightower, get the fuck out. Now. If he proves too much of a threat, I'm going to be calling down a Warhammer strike on an area of three miles around this spot. Anything inside will be vapourized. You will, for lack of a better word, be turned into molecular dust, eradicating any trace of your consciousness on the local network. I don't frankly give a fuck about myself, but the world needs someone who has the authority and power to handle this. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but whatever. Seems he's too much up on his high horse to understand that we're trying to assist our countries against what at least against us was a genocidal invasion force", Raven transmitted to Hightower, forcing his way back into control.

"Alright, Mister High Horses, let's see about this. Inside this camp is enough firepower carried to obliterate a tank battalion with ease, why don't we see exactly how much you can take? But first, feel free to fire that pathetic excuse for a weapon you're pointing at me. I'm wearing enough armour to rival an average tank in protection, I can rip steel to pieces with my bare hands without the augmentated strength of the armour, holding in my hands a weapon that can rip open an IFV, and my sidearm cuts through molecules. What have you got? Sure, you're endurant to the point of ridiculousness, but how much damage can you do?", Raven challenged, his voice booming over the battlefield, amplified to near hurtful levels by his helmet amplifiers. This ridiculous dick-waving reminded him of his unfortunate predecessor's threats towards the NFE, a few years back, except he would be able and willing to use it all, because even if he didn't, he'd be attacked.

The Marksman tanks had both elevated their guns from transport position and loaded up with two tungsten cored smart shells, aiming directly for Zero's chest. Unless he had precognition, and Raven seriously wouldn't be surprised at this point by yet another surprisingly convenient supernatural ability for the current predicament, he'd take both of them at what was point-blank range for artillery, followed by a wall of high-caliber mass-reactive rounds going at high velocity for his body. Let's see him react to this.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero
Holy Japonian Empire; ???

January 4th, 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan
1107 Hours

"Ah... I see our newly-crowned wannabe Emperor has conveniently and temporarily regained control of his body. Well then, it wouldn't hurt to demonstrate a little."

Zero pointed his pistol somewhere, pulling the trigger. Almost instantaneously, an explosion could be heard. At the direction where he pointed his firearm, everything left were burning cinders of what was shaped like a tank or vehicle.

"This pathetic excuse of a weapon has a maximum firepower of a machine-gun that shoots out nuclear bombs - 21st century reference, if you didn't get it. I don't care of your achievements that you have yet to prove to me, little Autarch. You can rip through steel, and I can pretty much just find out whether you have a heart or not, on the spot. Your weapon can rip open through an IFV, my weapon can make entire countries a part of history. Your sidearms cut through molecules, I make molecules disappear. You see, Raven, you are but a mere dictator; I, on the other hand, am Zero - the Man of Miracles.

I've had enough of this dick-waving already. Oh, a little hint of what we were doing several years ago: we were trying to crash Ardavia into Northton. There, I said it."

Suddenly, Zero's cape and helmet detached into halves; revealing inside a bold look, with blond hair and blue eyes reaching the nape of his neck.

"And I'm absolutely sorry to disappoint you, Hightower.

My name is Sakahara Yami."

The blond then grinned in a very disturbing manner; his eyes seemingly glowing in red.

"Shoot me, if you dare.", the blond-haired man's look became increasingly psychopathic as every moment passed.

[Ardavia]

January 4th 2293
Nagoya, Japan, approximately
1110 Hours

Secretary of Foreign Affairs Hathaway, current leader of the Ardavian Empire

"Oh, you are fucking kidding me. That little piece of shit not only can defy time and space, he has just violated physics so hard that it locked itself in the bathroom with a soothing fucking lotion. Not even a goddamn anti-matter charge can create such a blast with such a limited amount of fuel. God fucking damn it all to hell, I would prefer not to do this, but what the fucking hell is there for a choice", Hathaway heard Raven's thoughts. Not the prettiest place to be in, this. I guess I should thank whatever deity for this insane motherfucker not to have any kind of god-like powers like that guy over there, or else there likely wouldn't be a universe left. Raven's restraining himself very well, though. Oh, wait. I know what "this" is. OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK", Hathaway thought, rapidly evacuating from his watching position inside Raven's head.

Neither of the idiots, not Raven nor Hightower, could detect him here. This entire corner of Raven's internal network was a sealed area, camouflaged like a maintenance server. At least not without the suspicion to look for him. And then he ran, no longer caring for discovery. As fast as he could, thousands of terabytes of data packets thundered through the secured connection. There was nothing that was keeping him here anymore, in case Raven went full out "taking you with me", nothing in the vicinity would survive.

Raven

"Oh, so the silly little pistol can rape physics. I shouldn't be surprised, you always seem to have a new ridiculously over-powered asset whenever you're pushed. Thing is, I don't have a physical heart. And trust me, before you can get close enough to check if I'm telling the truth, I'll have vapourized this entire camp. Or this city. Or do you want me to do the entire country? Let's see how you'll survive enough firepower to turn this planet into a ball of dry rock, eh? You're not the only one who can act like a ruthless little asshole who seems to think that he's justified to do anything", Raven answered the tirade.

Shrugging, he looked up into the sky with a tired sigh. "Thing is, I don't want to destroy this country. I didn't want to gas it. I don't want to be forced to glass this island. I want to protect the country I've been forced to lead against sick little self-entitled bastards who think they are justified to perform atrocities in the name of their "greater good" or whatever retarded reason you have for releasing bioweapons into the country you conquered and then acting like you have the moral high ground when someone objects and tries to secure their interests, even if it did happen to be by launching a nerve gas attack. I don't fucking want this shit. I didn't want to be named Emperor. I have seriously considered killing myself, the only thing is that in the current situation, I'm the only one remotely qualified to lead the country. Hathaway is definitely not, he'd as easily decide to nuke the NFE for some slight as strengthen our bonds with them, and you've kidnapped the only other man I would have trusted to lead my country, for no apparent reason. Why do you think I'm doing this? I didn't fucking antagonize the Hollows, you fucking attacked us for no apparent reason, not the opposite".

Raven then raised his bolter, pointing it at Zero. "Anyway, I've had it. Fire", Raven commanded, pulling the trigger.

With a roar, twenty-four Bolters, two six-barreled Mega Bolters and two 155mm cannons fired. A literal wall of mass-reactive shells and two armour-piercing shells flew towards Zero, obscuring him in a dust cloud. When the firestorm ended as everyone reloaded and the Terminators let their Mega Bolters cool down, the cloud lifted, revealing Zero, rising again. While his armour was heavily damaged, the only damage he himself had suffered was a bleeding nose, and the pistol had been blown to kingdom come.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero
Holy Japonian Empire; ???

January 4th, 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan
1114 Hours

Zero/Yami once again put a grin on his face, as he wiped the blood off.

"It's complicated why we antagonized you. But in the end, it boils down to the similarities, like this: you, in trying to wipe us out, ruthlessly gassed Japan, and failed; just like how we, in trying to make our point clear to the Frenkish, attempted to take over the control systems of Ardavia, but got bored and left in favor of other things.

Even when you talk down to biochemical weapons that we used, it's still invalid. You see, in your little pathetic empires, humans and cyborgs have not reached the states where they are... perfectly adapted; even more so in a world ridden with nuclear-related problems. Those 'bio weapons', and the transformations you witnessed, are little more than ways for humanity to survive. They can still turn themselves back to their normal selves; but it seems you didn't understand that; and oops - you just killed everything.

We would have gotten along fine in another scenario, Raven; but unfortunately..."

A pistol materialized - out of thin air - in Zero's right hand; and in a moment's worth, he began shooting everything that was there - not necessarily with the explosion he caused earlier.

"That day might just not come."

[New Frenco Empire]

Elizabeth Devereaux
Hollow Special Agent; Current Vassal of Alphonse the Traveler

February 25th, 1945
Iwo Jima, Japan
0500 Hours

"Tojos on the hill! Tojos on the hill!" The young marine yelled, just before a sniper's bullet pierced through his neck. As the marine (he couldn't have been a day over nineteen) lay dying, choking in a puddle of his own blood, his entire platoon marched forward, drudging through the mud, desperately attempting to avoid machine gun and sniper fire. "Such brutality...it is the beauty of war," Alphonse chimed in. The pair were hidden among some brush. Though, they had to be careful: Alphonse had mentioned that the Japanese loved to hide in the tall grasses and bayonet charge unsuspecting Americans.

"Fits the definition of a meat grinder," Elizabeth said offhandedly. Alphonse nodded. "Quite. Come. I can foresee a clear path towards our friend's location. However, be sure to keep your head down." Elizabeth nodded as she sat up. She groaned a bit in pain. Her back was still hurting from her fall, and her uniform was so muddy and wet that she could feel the dampness soak through to her bare skin. Her arm was stinging from the laser wound she suffered, but she tore off a piece of her jumpsuit earlier and made an improvised bandage to cover it up. She pressed on, though. A little bit of filth and blood never killed anyone.

The pair followed a path through the uncut grass and trees. After a few minutes of walking silently, listening to the dying screams of boy soldiers, machine guns cutting through the early morning air and artillery guns shaking the grounds around them, Alphonse put his hand up. "Wait one moment..." He calmly said, as the grasses around them came to life. Soldiers armed with bayonet-tipped rifles and leaves hanging off their uniforms got up from their hiding places, and ran towards a squad of marines, giving a screeching "BANZAI!!!!" yell as they charged. Elizabeth watched as the Japanese soldiers skewered the marines with the bayonets. Some of the Americans were quick, and managed to squeeze off a few rounds into the human wave, killing some of the chargers. However, by the end of the charge, all the marines were dead. The surviving Japanese soldiers retreated back to their positions, and waited for more unsuspecting foes. "Watch your step," Alphonse said, as he continued on.

Eventually, they climbed into a trench. In this trench, Japanese soldiers were scrambling to get machine gun parts, ammunition, and other various supplies from one end to another. To their left, the trenches led to a bunker. "We'll find our man in there," Al said, as he approached, careful not to bump into any sprinting soldiers. Alphonse led Eliza through the short doorway. Inside, a small group of Japanese soldiers were crowded around a machine gun, firing wildly into the fields in front of them. The small chamber itself had a few rifles leaning on a nearby wall, while a yellowing flag hung on the back wall, worn and torn with age and battle.

Before Elizabeth could get a better look around, Al tapped her shoulder. "Emily, you might want to hit the ground. Now." Best not ignore his judgement. He has a knack for predictions, Elizabeth thought. She got on her belly, and put her hands over her head. Meanwhile, she could spot an American marine. Armed with a flamethrower. Uh oh, was all that crossed her mind whenever the marine let orange flames pour into the bunker. Although Elizabeth was out of the way of the burning stream of napalm, the intense heat was almost unbearable. Not to mention that the flames would occasionally lick her back and the hands keeping her head safe. The pain was great, but she knew if she moved even a muscle, she would die screaming as her skin would melt from her bones. Eventually, the stream halted. "They're gone," Al's familiar voice rung. When she raised her head, the smell of charred corpses was terrible. It nearly put her on the verge of vomiting. Since she was in the Vanguards at one point, the sight of burning bodies was nothing new, but at least her power helmet's air filtration system blocked out most of the stench.

"This way," Alphonse said. Even though he stood right in the middle of the flames, he was unharmed. Not even his fancy suit gave a hint of evidence of being torched by weaponized fire. As she got up, she avoided looking at the corpses. She was already holding back vomit due to the smell, and looking at the blackened bodies would probably force it all out. She may have been extremely desensitized to brutal violence such as this, but that's just gross! She followed Alphonse through a doorway at the back of the bunker. This led to a tunnel system, in which more Japanese troops were scrambling through. "I believe Taku is in one of these bunke-Ah! There he is!" Alphonse pointed to one of the soldiers huddled in the corner. Sure enough, it was Taku, despite the fact that his hair was cut short. However, his green uniform he wore back in her own time was still on him. She would have never guessed it was one belonging to the Japanese military.

A nearby officer noticed him shortly after she did. "MURAKAMI! What is this?" The officer forcefully hauled him to his feet. Elizabeth could then see he was writing a letter of some sort. "Your emperor and your country needs your hands to kill these Ame-koh dogs!" He jerked the paper from Taku, ripped it in half, balled it up, and threw it aside. "Not write these useless diaries!" Taku saluted, though the disappointment in his eyes was quite noticeable. "Y-Yes sir!" He said, in a monotone. Elizabeth actually could speak Japanese quite fluently, since being an officer stationed at Okinawa required it. The officer picked up an SMG with a bayonet attached leaning against a nearby wall. He then shoved it into Taku's hands. "You are not allowed to die before you kill twenty Americans, got it Murakami?!" Taku accepted the weapon and saluted. The officer shook his head, and walked down the tunnels, towards another group of soldiers.

Taku sighed, and looked at his weapon. He cursed under his breath, and joined a group of his comrades at a sandbag emplacement. Just as he was situated, one of his fellow soldiers yelled. "AMERICANS BREACHING THE TUNNELS!" Alphonse pushed Elizabeth back a bit. Things are about to get nasty. Just then, a grenade was thrown from the bunker area Al and Eliza came through, which was torched not two minutes ago. When this grenade exploded, a huge cloud of white smoke flew upwards. The smoke blinded Elizabeth and all the Japanese soldiers around her. She could spot dark shapes charging through the doorway. One of them was releasing concentrated streams of fire from his weapon. That damn flamethrower is going to be the death of me. Almost instantly, as if her wishes had been granted, Taku peered over his cover, and fired a burst from his machine gun. The rounds struck the flamethrower-armed marine, and his weapon's tanks exploded, dismembering him and spraying lethal napalm all over his comrades.

However, just as the flamer and his buddies were dying off, more marines moved in to take their places. One by one, the Japanese fell. Some had charged the marines with their bayonets after exhausting the few bullets they had left, though they were almost always cut down the second they left the safety of their positions. Eventually, Taku, the officer and about a handful of soldiers were all that were left on the Japanese side. Fortunately, the entire American force was killed off, though, Elizabeth could her Americans yelling at one another outside. They were about to mount a second assault. The officer approached the surviving men. "THIS IS IT! WE SHALL DIE HONORABLY FOR OUR EMPEROR!" Taku cleared his throat. "Sir, wouldn't it be a bit more sound to retreat deeper into the tunnels and join with others? This position is as good as lost either way. Perhaps we can live on to create more trouble for the Americans?" It was a good plan. At least, better than stubbornly holding their ground and dying. Elizabeth's training as an officer had stuck with her. If loss was inevitable, better to live and fight another day rather than die to hold the final inch.

However, it was clear this officer had read different books than her. "WE WILL NOT DIE COWARDS, PRIVATE MURAKAMI! The others are long gone. They've already decided to pick the spots they die at! We have done the same!" The officer looked towards the doorway, which was littered with American corpses. "For this show of cowardice, you will charge the enemy, and strike down as many as you possibly can before your death." He got up right in Taku's face. "Is this clear?" Taku cleared his throat. "No," he muttered, cool and collected as ever. The officer frowned. "Than you shall die where you stand!" The officer reached for his katana, but Taku was quicker. Before the sword was off the officer's hip, Taku jabbed his weapon's bayonet right into his chest. The officer looked up Taku, horror in his eyes, his mouth dripping red. The officer then stiffened up, gave a final groan, and hunched over. Taku pushed his body off the gun with his left hand. Taku wasn't phased in the least of his killing of his superior, but the few soldiers around him were horrified at the sight of it. Taku looked at them. "Go on. You're free. Try to live a little longer."

Before the soldiers could retaliate in any way, Taku turned towards another tunnel, and set off. The pair followed. "This is where it gets interesting," Alphonse said gleefully. Taku eventually came across another doorway. At the foot of it, the bodies of two Japanese soldiers were laying. Suicide, by the look of it. Taku stepped over one of the bodies, and walked down the hall. After a few twists and turns, Elizabeth could hear voices. "..Jima will fall within the next few weeks!" For every step they took, the voices got louder. "...bombarding the beaches constantly. There is no hope." They continued to grow more and more audible. "Sakahara, (that name) you realize this is hopeless right? " Taku could hear the voices at this point too. He switched out magazines for his SMG, and proceeded slower. "...fools. My dreams...crushed. Japan will fall by the year's end." Elizabeth knew that last voice. A little too well at this point. Taku eventually reached the last turn until he reached the small room the voices were emulating from. "My pride is gone, but that doesn't change anything." Elizabeth could hear the faint cocking of a pistol. Taku could evidently hear it as well, since he backed up a bit. "I may return. Be it in ten or ten hundred years. I don't plan on abandoning our little project. Unfortunately, gentlemen, you've failed me."

Bam. The distinctive sound of a pistol firing. Bam. Another. Bam. Bam. Bam. Taku sighed, gripped his gun tight, and turned the corner. Elizabeth quickly followed. The cave room was devoid of anything, save for a few maps pinned to the walls. In the center, was a table, with another map on it. However, this one was dotted with red. The blood of the recently slain. All around the table, five corpses were laying motionless. Their uniforms indicated they were officers and admirals of the Japanese navy. Some were still seated, while others looked as though they tried to run or draw weapons of their own. However, at the head of the table, was that recognizable blue eyed, blonde haired commander. He wore a unique uniform. In his hands was a pistol. Obviously the weapon used to kill the five officers. Taku was speechless. Eventually, Keiji looked at him. "How did you get in here?" He grinned. "Guess it doesn't matter now. I was foolish enough to base myself at Iwo Jima of all places. What with the largest battle the Pacific has ever witnessed going on right outside as we speak, I can't blame you for stumbling upon certain things..." He began to pace around, pistol still at the ready. "What is your name, soldier?" Taku hesitated to speak, but eventually worked up the courage to do so anyway. "Private...Private First Class Taku Murakami s-sir!" Keiji shook his hand. "No, no...you're a proper Asiatic individual. It's Murakami Taku. Family comes first." Taku nodded. "O-of course, sir."

Keiji gave him a confused look. "Do I make you nervous?" The question caught Taku by surprise. "Uhh...yes sir. A little. I mean, you did...sorta..." He pointed towards the dead officers. Keiji chuckled a bit. "There's nothing here left for me. They were merely loose ends. Nothing left here for any Japanese persons, really. It seems my arrogance has finally caught up to me. Japan will fall to the Americans no later than next year." He looked to Taku. "I know what you did. Most of my former allies are too concerned with honor and service to see the fact that dying gets them no where. You, however, were different." Keiji approached Taku. He then rubbed his index finger and thumb down Taku's bloody bayonet. His fingers were red with the stuff. "An unfortunate victim of self-awareness and a determination to survive and perhaps serve your country further. I may have further use of you." He rubbed the blood off his fingers on the table's map. "How would you feel about becoming a god amongst men, Murakami Taku?"

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Keiji
High Command of the Hollow Ones; "Elysium's Empire"

January 2nd, 2293
The Cut Realm
0845 Hours (Central Africa's Time)

The Cut Realm. A mystical, para-digital dimension unbeknownst to even most of the Hollows' numbers. Only few, such as The Prophet, The Great One or Keiji himself could access it.

Then, however, the reason for his being there was to investigate the location of his sister, and come rescue her.

It was also a chance for him to lax a bit and review what had been happening that led to where he was then.

Materialization of The Void. The youngest brother of the Greater Influences. Tasked by his four brothers to modify the jelly-like state of Chaos and shape it into The Universe. Captured and chained. Stolen of his power and my pride. Forced to work as the Reaper of Souls. Had pride restored at the cost of staying meek. Having finally seen his sister born, the joy of which costed him his vision for the worlds. See his arch-nemesis brothers returning as a white-haired psychopath. Involved himself in an organization that's for all matter, complicated. Had his sister captured. Now, he found himself here.

Sakahara was the identity he adopted. But in the end, whether he's a God, a demi-God, a Demon, a Human, or a Xeno, he would never know - he is fated not to.

He then suddenly saw a flash in the Cut Realm. It was the images of Eliza and a man dressed in a smart, old-fashioned but distinctively still fashionable-in-its-own-way suit.

Alphonse. So he's decided to pay a visit.

"Keiji-nii-sama!", he heard a voice, echoing in the Cut Realm, reaching out to him. Its resonance continued within his head.

That... that voice...

Youko!

His eyebrows raised, his mouth showing a mild shock or surprise, Keiji reached for the handle of his sword. His eyes stared at the image of his sister, as everything began to blur.

Just you wait, you damned White-Haired Terrorist...

Your Goddess-worshiping days are about to end.

Everything then turned white, and vanished from the Cut Realm.

[New Frenco Empire]

Sergeant First Class Kensie Prissa

January 2nd, 2293
On-board the FIS McKenzy Tandi; Atlantic Ocean
1200 Hours


"My brother, he-he's very...special to me," Goldshade said. She was a bit easier to speak to now, but she still occasionally stuttered due to nervousness. "He's the best brother in the world! He's just so...busy all the time. He always makes time for me, even takes me with him on his trips sometimes, but ever since he came to this place, he's just been so stressed." Prissa nodded. "What place? Africa?" She said in a kind tone. Goldshade gave her a confused look. "Is this planet called Africa?" Prissa was dumbstruck. Planet? "No. Earth. Some people call it Terra. I like Terra better. Prettier sounding." Prissa decided to sidetrack Goldshade a bit more. She noticed that when she moved on to less important subjects, she'd occasionally let things slip. The planet thing being the prime example. "Believe it or not, I used to like pretty things. Take my name, for instance. I gave myself this name when I was 14. I made all these plans for my future. I would be a fashion designer, and make the prettiest dresses. Little did I know, I handled a gun better than most and took stress with the best of them. The Imperial Military wanted me, and the pay and opportunities were fantastic. My name is perhaps the only thing left of the old me. That was way back. Frenco Lake. My hometown." Prissa took another hit off of a cigarette. "Where's your hometown?"

Goldshade smiled a bit. "I know what you're trying to do! That won't work on me! I like you well enough, but I have to think of my brother..." She frowned a bit at the mention of him. Prissa couldn't help but grin. Cutesy the cat is a lot more clever than we would have thought. Prissa put the butt out, and got up. "Time for me to check in and attend to other matters. If you need anything, just use that little button to call me. Questions, fresh food, a book, a well-trained boy or girl to satisfy any pleasurable urges you have..." Goldshade looked at Prissa a bit, that trademark expression of confusion fresh upon that pretty face. "You mean to talk to? I like talking to you well enough. Why would you send anyone else?" Prissa chuckled a bit. Damn. She may be a lot more clever than she looks, but she's got the naivety of someone fifteen years her younger. "No...silly goose. For sex. You know." Goldshade's face shifted from confused to awkward. "Oh..." Prissa sat back down, shaking her head, smiling. "You've been through a lot today, but at least tell me you know what sex is? Have any partners back home? I'm sure someone like you can get a fine looking boy or girl to make you sigh." Goldshade shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well...my friend Elizabeth, kinda, sorta..."

Prissa blinked. In all honesty, she wasn't expecting to get an answer along those lines. "Elizabeth? Sounds exotic. Real old-world. I'm sure she must be a looker. Tell me about her?" Goldshade sighed. "Well...she works with my brother. I met her about two years ago, whenever my brother introduced her to me. We've been good friends ever since, but, last night, s-she, uh, got in trouble. My brother didn't want her to do those...things to me. Though, I just...I kinda...liked it, a little. No. A lot, really. I was about to tell Kei-...my brother that I didn't mind it. It made me feel...good. Like...a woman, almost. Not some sheltered g-girl." She began blushing. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, if that's okay." Prissa smiled, and gently patted her arm. "That's alright. We'll talk more later. Call me if you need me." With that she stepped out of the room, making sure that the hatch closed completely behind her.

She practically ran to the surveillance room Wright was watching from. "Did you catch that?" Prissa said, as she came in. Wright nodded. "If you mean the planet thing, yeah. If you mean her little experience with that Elizabeth girl, I'm going to need video evidence of their playtime to get me hard. If it's the latter, thanks anyway, but like I said, I was never one for erotic literature or just leaving things up the imagination." Typical Wright. Lord Admiral of the Imperial fleets, but still as gutter-minded and snarky as the average sailor. "What do you make of it?" Prissa said, ignoring Wright's previous jape. Wright rubbed his head a bit. "Makes sense. I don't think Earth created something like that. Still, if we're dealing with aliens, I'll need a bit of Euphoria to take the edge off." He looked up at Prissa. "What are we getting ourselves into?"

[New Frenco Empire]

Emily Howell
Student; Matthew Fren Educational Center; Matthew Fren Developmental Complex

June 28th, 2275
The Hub, New Frenco Empire
1450 Hours

Today was a great day. Sun's shining. Birds singing. The young girl of 15 years sat outside her favorite cafe, eyes focused on a book. Basics of Artificial Intelligence. It wasn't a very exciting book, but if she wanted a career in the field of AI study, she needed to soak it all in, wherever she could. She sighed, folded the page to mark her place, and sat the book down on the table, right in-between her half-eaten blueberry croissant and unfinished cigarette, still lit in the ashtray. She checked her datagirl for any new messages, but her inbox was blank. She sighed, and began to get up. "Emily!" Yelled a familiar voice. She turned to see Todd, handing her a framed portrait. "What is this?" She said. "A drawing. It's not my best work, but I just saw you there, and figured 'hey, I have ten minutes. Why not?'" He said in his strangely higher-pitched voice. She took it, and looked at it. Figures. "Todd, if you're going to draw me, stop using that anime style. It's old!" This made Todd frown a bit. Todd was a boy of about 13. He was small and scrawny, but there wasn't a better artist around. She smiled. "I still love it." This made him smile. She put the picture under her book, and got up. "Still, you don't have to frame every damn thing you draw! Don't frames get expensive?" Todd shrugged. "Old man Winstead never cares if I take a few old frames."

Todd looked at his databoy. "Shit! It's almost three! Winstead's going to kill me if I don't fix up that gallery walk by five! Catch ya later, Emily!" To Todd's surprise, she bent down, and kissed him. Right on the lips. "Have fun, Todd." He was blushing uncontrollably. "B-b...bye, Emily!" He took off running down the street. She could see him throw his fist up in victory as he turned the corner. She laughed a bit, before deciding to set off herself. She didn't worry about her things. They were safe here. She began walking slowly, taking in the scents of fresh bread and cherry blossoms. The street was packed with children and teenagers. Painting pictures, reading books, eating at one of the cafe tables. On a bench nearby, two boys were locked in each others arms, kissing and rubbing their hands up and down one anothers' bodies. They were Emily's age, and she was great friends with both of them. "Get a room, you two!" Emily yelled, playfully. The boys smiled at her. "Ah, grow up, Emily!" One of them said with a laugh. "Never!" She yelled in reply, laughing it up as they shook their heads and jokingly gave her the finger before returning to each others' embrace.

She came across three boys, not any older than Todd, playing guitars and saxophones. They attracted a small crowd of onlookers. Emily herself didn't recognize the song, but they were surprisingly talented for such young musicians. Several in the crowd nodded at Emily as she smiled at them. As she passed the crowd, a boy and a girl were playing with a pair of Frenkish Husky Puppies. The puppies, upon seeing her, ran towards her. She got on her knees, and accepted the puppies' playful kisses and pawing. After giving them each a scratch behind the ear, she waved at their masters and continued down the street. The streets of Developmental Complexes were a wonder to those living outside the Empire. Children and teenagers ran their own businesses, programmed their own robots to keep the streets clean, basically turned the courtyards into their own little worlds. If the teachers and overseers were to be believed, the outside world, the ones the adults lived in, were not too unlike this one.

She eventually came across a small garden. Under the shade of a palm tree, a boy slightly older than Emily had his nose in a book. He looked up at her. "Fuck off, you shit-eating cunt!" Emily sighed, and cleared her throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Been beating your dick in the garden again?" The boy was dumbfounded. He then laughed. "I had no idea you knew Japanese now!" Emily shrugged. "I was tired of you talking shit in that ching-chong language. Try it now, pretty boy!" The boy grinned. "I still know Chinese. And Russian. Not to mention French. And Spanish." Emily sighed. "Alright, you got me..." The boy folded a page on his book, and put it down. "A Ranger's gotta know these things..." He said, while effortlessly hopping to his feet with one graceful shift. Emily tutted. "A limp dick like yourself a Ranger? Are you serious?" The boy shrugged. "Hey, I can bench about 250, I can hit a moving target from a little under a mile away, the doctors have already confirmed that my body can handle the augmentations necessary..." Emily chuckled and waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. You're going to be the next Jacob Feraway or Valery Eagle."

The boy grinned. "Yeah, probably. I always knew I was going to be great!" Emily sighed, and shook her head. The boy crossed his arms. "Didn't you say you were going into the Vanguards?" He asked. Emily nodded. "Yes. The field I'm interested in is pretty shaky right now. Too many people want to do it. That is, if you're in the civilian field. The military needs more engineers. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me. Go through basic, learn to kill people, figure out how to wear power armor, stuff like that. Easy enough. Serve in a few active warzones, but due to my skills, it'll mostly be restricted to things like guarding embassies or extracting VIPs from hot areas full of rebels with rusty Kalashnikovs and the brains to not fuck with someone in power armor. I'll get to hold a Lieutenant rank until I'm around 35 or so, then I can retire, use my military experience to get any job in the civilian world I want, and be set for life." She chuckled again. "All while you're off shitting in the woods, taking potshots at Red Men, praying- yes, praying. Someone of your resolve will probably be lowered to it- that some superstate declares war on us so you can put on those black tights and go around, killing old politicians on the toilet and doing suicide missions against enemies an entire regiment wouldn't even look at. Rangers are supposed to be the heroes, but they're way too overrated." She then smiled. "But I still like you. A little."

The boy smiled. "Yeah? Show me." She sighed, and approached him. Before she could do anything, he grabbed her, and put her into his embrace. He began kissing her neck softly. She began to dampen as his hands fell over her most intimate of places. She was about to tell him to take her, right under this palm tree, but he already decided that he was going to anyway. "Oh Kyler," she whispered into his ear, as he gently pushed her down into the soft grass. She looked up at him, and smiled as he began unzipping his jumpsuit. She was about to undress as well...before everything went wrong.

Just as his chest was revealed, a thin, shining piece of silvery metal burst through his stomach, while the red liquid poured from under the blade. Kyler gave her one last look before the metal retracted back, and his wound was revealed, making him bleed even more. She screamed as his lifeless body fell to the ground, landing right next to her. Standing right behind where Kyler was was a tall man. Over six feet. Dressed in a dark longcoat with golden trim. In his hand was a sword. A katana. She took a better look at his face. Clean shaven and well-sculpted. Handsome. Asiatic in appearance, aside from his long, blonde hair. However, what really set him aside were his glowing, blood-red eyes. "You'll be coming with me, my dear." His voice was rich and assuring. However, a deep, demonic voice echoed as he talked, repeating everything he said. "You will join us. You will kill for us. You will die for us." He grabbed her, and forcefully hauled her to her feet with his free hand.

"No", a second voice sounded. This one's voice was not unlike one belonging to a cold, cunning businessman. However, his echo was robotic in nature. Emily turned to see a SecuraBot. However, instead of that goofy smiling face most had, this one had the realistic image of a man's face on it. This face belonged to someone in their 40s or early 50s. Handsome, yet aging. His hair was dark, and his simple mustache was the same color black. She knew this one from the history books and various statues and portraits located around the complex. Hightower. "This one is mine. She is property of the Empire. She is to remain ignorant and docile. As it should be." The man laughed. "No! She will be mine! Property of the Hollow Group! She will become uncontrollable and unstable. As it will be." The two of them stared her down for quite some time. "At least she'll be truly happy," the robot said. "At least she'll be truly free," the man said. After several more minutes, a conclusion was made. "Fine," they both said at the same time, letting all of their echoes join together, creating a cacophony that hurt her ears. "If I can't have her..." The man said. "You won't either." The robot finished. The robot aimed his weaponized arm at her, while the man instantly appeared before her. Simultaneously, she could feel the extreme heat of the SecuraBot's gatling laser hammer her backside, while the cold blade of the katana cut through her front.

Elizabeth Devereaux
Hollow Special Agent; Current Vassal of Alphonse the Traveler

???
???
???

No... No. No! NO! NOOOO!!! She awoke, sweating uncontrollably. Her breathing was labored and her heart was racing. "Bad dream, Emily?" The familiar voice rang. She sat up to see Alphonse, working on a tear, peeking at her over his shoulder. Shit-eating grin on his face. "What happened!?" She asked, as if she were in a desperate situation. Alphonse shrugged. "We had to make another stop. Unfortunately, time flows differently in this reality. The minute you stepped through, the fatigue building up within you hit you like a steam train. You were out as soon as both your feet were planted. You're lifeless body looked rather weary, so I just you sleep." She rubbed her eyes as she lazily got to her feet. She looked around her. This world was unlike anything she ever saw. It was just...white. "The Firsts managed to find places like this and turn it into something grand, like that temple planet we stopped at before we witnessed Taku's story. However, they ascended before they could find all of them. This is one of them." Alphonse said, obviously doing the creepy mind-read thing. "It's not creepy. It's just a curse." Yeah. Right. "And before you ask- I already know you're thinking about it- I'll tell you about the Firsts later." Damn.

"So...Blanca next?" She asked, rubbing sleepies out of her eyes. Alphonse nodded. "Yes. You might like this one. A bit more modern." Elizabeth yawned. "Alright." She looked down at her clothes. She was wet, muddy and she could swear she could smell herself. Seemingly in response, Alphonse stopped working on his tear. He kept his left hand over it, appearing to keep it together. His right hand curled up into a fist. When he released it, the blank white area around them turned into a fully-functioning bathroom in the blink of an eye. Shower pod, toilet, even a jumpsuit on the hand cleanser's counter. "I know how your types think about hygiene. Don't consider it a kindness. You really were starting to become odorous." Elizabeth rolled her eyes, as she began to undress. "Kindness or not, I still appreciate it." Alphonse made an acknowledging grunt as he set back to work on the tear, ignoring the naked woman behind him. Frenks were never modest when it came to things like nudity or sex or even using the restroom. Alphonse (who seemed to be "from another time", whatever that meant) seemed to share the same amount of apathy the average Frenk did concerning it.

After showering herself into freshness and dressing in the black jumpsuit Al left for her, he waved her over to him. "Come. The tear is ready. You first again." Elizabeth sighed as she slowly stepped through the portal, into a new world. She looked around this new place. She could see smoke rising in the distance and she could her fighter jets flying above and artillery guns pounding away She noticed one large structure standing a few blocks away right off the bat. This structure was still standing (although it was knocked down constantly over the years due to warfare or it's age and it wouldn't be surprising to learn that very few of it's original components remain) even in 2293. They were in Paris. "Yes, Emily. Paris. 2038. This is where we find Blanca." Alphonse walked from behind her. "However, I think you'll find it interesting that, unlike the others, she isn't a soldier." He smiled. "She's a thief."

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Keiji
High Command of the Hollow Ones; "Elysium's Empire"

January 2nd, 2293
On-board the FIS McKenzy Tandi; Atlantic Ocean
1210 Hours

Youko sighed a little. She was wondering whether what she said was right. She didn't have any experience whatsoever before, so indeed, her "first time" was embarrassing. That was, it tickled at first, and hurt a little later, but ultimately still somewhat gratifying in the end.

She then shut her eyes tightly and shook her head wildly.

If only Nii-sama was here to tell me...

"Yes. I'm here alright."

Youko startled, and turned back to see who was behind her. Much to her surprise...

"Nii-sama!"

"That didn't take too long, did it? Were you hurt?"

"... um... no..."

"Well, at least that part I am glad to know. Now hop in."

Youko was then digitalized into a "file" within Keiji's Lifewave screen. He then stood up.

Hack this hatch, and plant false data in it. Check.

As soon as the hatch opened, he disappeared completely from the room.

Later, in the Surveillance Room

Behind two figures in the Surveillance Room, another one appeared. What seemed like the cocking sound of a pistol could be heard, before he said:

"Alright. Unless anybody wants the materials in their brains to splatter all over this room or the entirety of this fleet, armada or whatever wiped out, I suggest that nobody moves."

[Gigaverse]

Kyler Kingston
"Captive" of the Hollow Ones

???
???
???

Kingston awoke, feeling as dizzy as ever. He grabbed his head, his vision still blurry after a few minutes. He could only feel that the space surrounding him was dark. There was only a hole in the wall that shed light into the dark space. He then realized something. He was no longer restrained. He was freed from chains and steel restraints.

The moment he came to, a loud sudden slam could be heard from a wall on one side. It began to crumble. Kingston then looked around him. No weapons were found whatsoever. He was on his own, and in any case, will have to fend for himself with his own hands.

The occasion came quickly enough. The wall fully crumbled, and all traces of light disappeared. Outside was a world littered with scrap heaps and dead bodies, revealed to be in the middle of night. He figured that whatever the building he was in, it was up a hilltop.

Is this place... in Africa?

He didn't get his answers before a shadow jumped at him. A faint red glow was visible, as the shadow caused a small quake where it landed. The dark night allowed Kingston to see only a silhouette in front of him. It looked tall, with what seemed like a ponytail.

And it didn't intend on sparing him.

It rushed to him yet again. In the cover of night, it began punching him at a speed where he couldn't even focus on the fist anymore. He managed to dodge a lot of the punches, but when just one of them even managed to touch him, he felt nigh-immense pain.

Kingston then quickly regained his calm. He himself began his own attack. Just as he threw a fist he concentrated all his power into at the silhouette, it disappeared. He then felt something touching his shoulder - a finger, to be correct. He turned around, and before he knew it, was already sent flying across the tight fighting ground, breaking yet another hole on the other side of the "room".

"Observation completed. Apparently, your Ranger training process didn't do you much good. Strength and stamina are applause-worthy, agility and reflexes aren't. First simulation rating: E.", a man's voice said.

"... where am I?"

"You're not in Africa. You're not where you were a while ago. You're somewhere completely different now."

The silhouette pointed to the scenery behind him - which looked like a devastated battlefield.

"Can you guess what happened?"

"A battle. Anyone could tell."

"War. This place, Kyler Kingston, is where you will remain for the next 2 years."

Even the silhouette knew his name. Kingston was nowhere near surprised by then.

"And WHERE exactly is 'this place'?"

"Imperial Province of Japan. Year 143 of the Imperial Calendar."

"Wait, did you just say 'Year 143'?"

"Know that this place is completely torn apart by war. It will be much worse than Ardavia, 2290 - where you came from. Come, follow me down the hill."

And follow him Kingston did. Walking behind the man - who he noticed was nearly his height, he could slowly see, as the moonlight revealed, the blond hair of the man. They then both came down to the battlefield.

"This place reeks."

"Not unlike you boys, who's all covered in armor, filter systems and shiny toys; these men didn't have those privileges of breathing clean air. Get used to it."

Kingston looked around. The corpses were all horribly mangled. Blood splatters were everywhere. All kinds of horrifying deaths could be seen throughout the battlefield. Two sides. One wearing grey. One wearing black. He could finally look clearly at the back of the other man, who himself was also wearing a black trench-coat of sorts. His blond ponytail was clearly visible, wrapped up neatly with a single small blue-colored band.

"Battle of Nagoya. Fighting over a mere 5 square kilometers of land claimed the lives of approximately 1,500,000 flesh-and-blood people and still counting. Casualties include every kind of people. EVERY KIND."

"And you're telling this to me because...?"

"You're a smart kid. You'll figure out. Lieutenant Kingston."

"Whose Lieutenant?"

"Archipelago's."

The man turned around, revealing his face. A sharp blue eye on his right, and an eye-patch with a stylized golden phoenix on his left.

"Sakahara Shinji - Sakahara is the surname. Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Armed Forces.", the blond extended his hand to Kingston, seemingly offering a handshake.

"... Kyler Kingston.", Kingston awkwardly shook the man's hand. He was subsequently electrocuted a bit, before he retracted his hand.

"LESSON #2: Always watch out for tricks of the opponent.", Sakahara calmly said.

[New Frenco Empire]

Sergeant First Class Kensie Prissa
Bodyguard of Lord Admiral Garret Wright; currently assigned to First Fleet; Imperial Atlantic Fleet Command; Imperial Navy

January 2nd, 2293
On-board the FIS McKenzy Tandi; Atlantic Ocean
1225 Hours


Prissa kept her hands glued to the top of her head. They knew something was up whenever Goldshade twitched a bit, and then sat there, emotionless, without so much as a breath. They didn't know, but it must have been something. Wright gave a loud hmmph. "You must be the brother we've heard so much about?" Their mysterious captor laughed. "Correct. I'm proud of her for not giving me my name. That would be a lot easier for all of us if you didn't know. You've treated the girl quite well. I can't forgive you for taking her from me and giving me this fright, but I won't kill you. I owe you that much." He went on. "I've got her mind and conscience, the only parts of her that truly matter. I intend to take the body too, so I expect to do it unhindered." She then felt the pistol tap the back of her head. "You. You managed to ease my sister a bit while she was held here. I know it was only for the sake of the job, but you did show kindness to her while she certainly needed it. For this, I will return the kindness. Join us. Your Empire is dying, or, at least, soon will be. Our ranks are always open to outsiders who want to be enlightened."

Wright began laughing. "What? Oh Emperor, give me a minute...You're trying to get my bodyguard to join your little army?" The pistol was no longer pressed against her skull. She could see that the captor put it to Wright's instead. "Why, yes. Yes I am. Do you have a problem, Lord Admiral?" The "Lord" was said in a somewhat mocking tone. He began laughing again. "I certainly hope your entire army isn't built like this. Full of soldiers you threatened at gunpoint." The captor gave a slight chuckle. "You'd be surprised. Five of my best warriors have backstories like this. I left them on Africa to deal with your hordes. I must be getting back to them." He put the gun up to Prissa again. "Do you have an answer? This is your only chance." He suddenly took the gun off of her head. "What am I doing? They never join unless they're forced or desperate."

Prissa expected him to disappear just like he'd appeared, disappointed that he didn't get her. She wasn't going to complain. However, instead, the base of the pistol's grip smacked her right on the top of her skull. Her head slammed against the table. "I'm sorry, but like I said, I always have to force them..." She could feel herself fading out of conscienceness when Wright stood up and yell her name. "Sit back down!" The captor yelled as he pointed the gun at the man she was to protect. Suddenly, the door was pounding. The captor grabbed Wright by the collar of his uniform. "Answer it. Tell them everything is fine, and you are not to be disturbed at this moment." He walked Wright towards the door. "Hold up," he said. "Gotta clean this up."

The captor gently grabbed her by her collar, and picked her up facing him. This was the first time she actually laid eyes on him. Like his sister, he was asiatic-looking, yet blonde. His uniform was dark, yet indistinguishable. "We'll be outta here soon. Don't you worry." He said to her, as he hid her half-unconscious body under the table, out of sight from anyone who could see from the door. "Open it slightly. If they see me, both you and they will be dead." He kept the pistol pressed against his back as he opened the hatch. He cleared his throat and spoke. "I thank you for your concern, but-" The hatch flung open forcefully, sending both Wright and captor flying backwards. Prissa could see three men in bulky armor walk through, guns drawn. At first, she thought it was a few Vanguard Corpsmen, coming to save the day. However, the armor was much too big. Her vision was starting to go blurry as well. It wasn't until two of them hauled the blonde brother to his feet that she saw they were Ares' men.

"Mao's thugs? I was afraid he sent you people to hold her," the blonde said spitefully. The third guard approached him. The guard then spoke. "Hold him. I'll rip the girl out of him." Their voices were deep. Almost inhuman. Similar to the modified voices given to those in protective custody or those who want to keep their identities secret in television interviews. The blonde began laughing. "If you do, you know I'll just come back. I know Mao hid her here, on Hightower's big boat. You may rob her from me, but tell Mao that Sakahara knows." The guard then shoved his fist towards the blonde's stomach. Instead of hitting him, though, it disappeared. All around the invisible hand were large runoffs of "0"s and "1"s of varying sizes. "Got her," the guard said, as his fist rematerialized. He unclenched his fist. Almost immediately, yelling could be heard from Wright's chambers. "Keiji! Nii-sama" Goldshade yelled in desperation. Poor girl. She was so close... The blonde captor ("Keiji", apparently) approached the screen. One of the guards tried to stop him, but the other grabbed his shoulder. "This is Lord Kongbu's concern. Not ours. We did our part."

Prissa could see the sad look in his eyes as he rubbed the monitor. "I was so close..." He said sadly. He closed his eyes, and clenched his fists together. "Youko...I don't know if you'll understand, but certain...quirks involving this situation won't allow me to leave with you. I swear, on all that's holy, I swear, between the love we bear each other, I will return, and I will make the bastard who separated us pay! A few days is all I ask." Silence. "Y-y-yes, Keiji. I...shall w-wait for you. I l-love you." Prissa could see a single tear roll down his face. "Of course, Youko. Of course." With that, he disappeared into thin air. "You boys sure know how to chase the party away," Wright's sarcastic voice sounded as he wiped the dust off of his uniform. "Thanks for that. The IIA was right to se-" The sound of an armored fist slamming into the Lord Admiral's face put an end to his speaking. The guard who did it began dragging his lifeless body towards Prissa. If Prissa was in the right state (both physically and mentally), she would have jumped in to protect the Lord Admiral, even if it cost her her own life. However, as she laid there, drifting closer and closer towards the blackness of unconsciousness, there wasn't anything she could do. "The Frenks have failed to do their part. Inform Lord Kongbu of our plans. Lock these two up somewhere. Take the wills of the rest." As two of the guards moved to follow the orders of the third, the black overtook her. The last thing she saw was one of the armored thugs picking up her own body, taking it to Emperor knows where.

[New Frenco Empire]

Mao Kongbu
Personal Employ of Chairman Joseph Hightower

January 2nd, 2293
Anarchist Africa; Hollow Fortress
1300 Hours

"You're a pretty one, aren't you?" Mao said, as he rubbed his hand across the left cheek of his red-headed prisoner. Her hands were tied behind her back and her legs were tied down too, but he still needed to be careful. This was one of Sakahara's personals. She looked up at his face and grinned. "I'm flattered. Really. Maybe I can warm your cold, cold bed if you remove these binds? I won't cut your throat after I tire you out, I swear! I promise to be a good girl!" Mao grinned a bit. "No. Any man would-" She interrupted him. "I like women more, smart guy. They're a lot smarter than men, and they smell better too. I only do men if I get something good for it." Mao sighed. "Any woman would be lucky to have you, but there's only..." She interrupted again. "Unless it's Sakahara, of course. I've got such a crush on him, it hurts. I'd let him do so much to me. He can grab me and just-" Mao stomped his foot. "You done with your little grade school sex humor? Look, there's only one woman in the world I want, and she's miles away right now."

The prisoner chuckled. "Sakahara's sister? Give me a break. She's cute, but she's no woman. A girl, maybe. She probably doesn't even know where you put it in at!" Mao rolled his eyes. "Your mind isn't in the gutter, is it? Your mind is the gutter. Just like these Frenks. No, I want her for other pleasures. More...divine pleasures." He gave a trademarked yawn. "Anyways. You're boring me, Miss Blanca." Samantha shrugged. "Hey, don't bitch about it. I didn't even want to keep you company. You bagged me and drug me back here, remember?" He crossed his arms. "If you didn't want to visit Mao, you shouldn't have been creeping near his mech with a grenade. Look where it got ya." She looked down at herself and gave a short laugh. "Yeah, I guess you're right. About what I said earlier, about the tiring you out thing, I was kidding. I wasn't kidding about the deal, though. You know...the carpets match the drapes. A lot of people like that about me." Mao waved her off. "You're disgusting." Samantha grinned. "You're boring." Mao smiled at the response she gave him. She's stealing my lines. "I know what you are..."

"But what am I?" Samantha interrupted. She looked down to the ground. "I'm a slutty jewel thief that grew up a whore because my parents were screwed over by one of the Mexican cartels back in 2026 or so. I don't fucking remember. All I do remember is some fat smelly drug runner fucking me until I bled when I was thirteen. They threw me around like a piece of meat afterwards. I was like a dog. A dog that could take eight inches in any hole. At the very least, they kept me fed and showered. I knew it was more so I wouldn't snap in half when they got violent with me or so I wouldn't smell bad and kill their boners, but it was more than my parents ever did for me. When I was seventeen, a few of them came back drunk. They took their turns fucking me while I obediently laid there, ass, pussy and mouth within thrusting distance. Then they passed out. They left their knives, guns and car keys within reaching distance." Mao could see tears in her eyes. "I was scared, but I did it anyway. I cut their throats, took their guns to blow away any of the others that would try to stop me and used their truck to set out across the great deserts of Mexico. Driving is easy to learn when you have miles of desert to train on."

"I don't remember what came after that, really, but all I do remember is reading a comic book about catwoman. 'I'm going to be just like her,' I said to myself. I trained and trained, taking hints from everything at my disposal. To this day, I still don't know how I got the skill, the money or the connections for what I did, but I made it happen. In 2038, I was only twenty five years old and on NATO's wanted list. I was hitting the Louvre in Paris when Sakahara came." Hmm...the girl was certainly holding that on her chest for some time. She just came out with it out of nowhere. Mao just about yawned, but the tale was too exciting to express boredom at it. Especially considering that was what he was best at. "Well then...I guess that explains a lot of things. Your sudden preference for women, your lucrative choices, though, your promiscuity is a mystery to me." Even though Samantha's face was stained with teardrops, she smiled, not looking up at Mao. "The world is a sadist. K always complained about it when I flirted with him or any good looking female that came around. I guess people don't change after all..."

She looked up at him. "Now...why don't you be a nice boy and wipe these tears off my face? If you're going to kill me, I don't want whoever trips on my corpse to think of me as some crybaby bitch!" Mao grinned. "I'll let you stew in your own sadness for a bit." His databoy rang. "I'm getting a call." He flipped it open. He was expecting Hightower or Goodall, but instead, it was Bruiser. One of his own men he charged to protect his beloved. He wasn't sure how he managed to get a hold of a Frenkish datapal, but that was insignificant at the moment. He made sure to block out all the internal spyware with his mind before talking. "Talk to me," he said. "My lord, Sakahara just attempted to free the asset. Slipped right under us. We managed to intercept him and recover the asset's conscience, though. We fear, however, he may come back, better prepared." Mao yawned. "Good to know. And what became of the Frenkish crew?"
"We detained the commander and his guard. We've also forced the entire crew under our control. It's clear these Frenks can't protect against such attack."

Mao grinned. "Hightower ain't gonna like this...Bruiser, be sure and close off all networks that lead to the outside. Get the asset to a secure place."
"Yes my lord!" The connection then closed. Mao cursed to himself. He didn't want to have to sneak behind Hightower's back, but it looks like it had to come to it eventually. He may even have to put those IIA agents he lent him to the sword...Either way, he wasn't going to tell him about Keiji.

He looked at his attractive, red-headed prisoner as she struggled in her binds. He tried to produce his wakizashi, but he had forgotten that he wasn't wearing his robes. He instead reached for the combat knife at the Frenkish power armor's boot. He approached Samantha, knife in hand. She looked up just as his knife came down. She flinched a bit, but after she raised her hands in defense, she realized he didn't cut at her. He set her free. "Go on. Grab your friends and get out. Head west. Frenks are coming from the south. French the north. When you meet Sakahara, tell him I'm waiting."

Just as he finished his sentence, a bright purple light overtook them. Samantha guarded her eyes, but Mao knew exactly what was happening. A tear.

[New Frenco Empire]

Lieutenant Vares Antilles
Unit 1; Platoon 3; Ironclad Company; 3rd Shock Armor Battalion; Imperial Army Tank Corps

January 4th, 2293
Kantō Plain, Japan
0625 Hours

"Scratch another one," Klyne said as she pulled the lever to reload the tank's autoloader. The platoon was exchanging shots with another column of enemy tanks a good kilometer away. Although they did manage to put several other tanks out of commission, their group was already forced to leave 3-3's tank behind due to a busted track from the last engagement. Dagger 2-1's Fritzammer caught on fire after a few lucky autocannon rounds managed to hit the bottom of it, right where the hydrogen converter was. They had to leave it behind as well while the crew was evacuated by a recovery VTOL. Dagger 2-4, however, wasn't as lucky as the other two. A single enemy tank managed to flank the platoon. Before the combined force of the Greatswords could put it out of action, it managed to squeeze off a few rounds (the enemy tank's gun didn't seem to fire anything bigger than 90mm, but the thing seemed to fire as quickly as 20 rpm) into 2-4. Before the countermeasures could even respond, one of the rounds managed to strike it in just the right place. The vehicle exploded from the inside, leaving no survivors.

Even though they were down an MBT and two AFVs, they had to press on. The enemy's armor blockade kept land reinforcements from arriving through this region, and the anti-air around Tokyo's borders kept their air dominance limited. How a hostile force of this size managed to simply appear deep in Frenkish territory, bypassing both the Navy and the Space Force's surveillance was still a mystery. Just as Antilles began counting up Klyne's last kill, he watched the remaining enemy tanks disappear over the hill. "They're retreating again!" Dagger 2-2's commander whined. "Don't ya see? They're playing the 'hit and run' game." Dagger 2-3 responded. "Their armor isn't as tough or hard-hitting as our own and they know it. They are fast, though, and they outnumber us. They meet us from hill to hill, exchange a few potshots, then roll away after they lose a tanker or three. They link up with the next force and hit us harder and harder until we're all gone. We'd be smart to radio in for reinforcements." Antilles frowned. "Negative, 2-3. The rest of the company is focused on the other force. Air support is restricted to medical support, crew recovery and short-range infantry support only. All our fighters are focused on air superiority at the moment, and all our gunships and CAS drones are shot down as soon as they take off. We're on our own."

"Oh well. You Fritz-ee motherfuckers can be scared. When you sit in the turret of a Greatsword, you learn to not worry so much! Ain't that right, Lou?" Ironclad 3-4 asked. "Don't antagonize, Sergeant. Sergeant Del Rio makes a good point, and he's right to be concerned. If it were up to me, we'd have enough support at our backs to make sure 3-3 and 2-1 were still rolling alongside us and 2-4's crew would still be alive." Silence. Sergeant Burrows was a good commander with his tank, but he was considerably bull-headed and arrogant. "Anyways, make sure your autoloaders are good to go and your armor isn't damaged in any way to fuck you over later. We're headed out."

When they reached the next hill, Antilles was surprised to see no enemy armor. He switched on the terrain scanner, but no signatures could be found. Strange. "Stay alert. These bastards are tricky," he transmitted to the platoon. "Keep it slow and steady. We may be rolling into a trap," he said to his driver. Elridge nodded, and returned his eyes to his station. Antilles kept the area surveyed through the camera of his RWS and the readings of the scanner. Not a damn thing... Just as Antilles was about to order an advance, the trap was sprung. About half a dozen enemy tanks appeared out of thin air. Active camouflage? Last I heard, the Asians couldn't afford something so advanced to slip out from under the radar and remain invisible? I doubt this is a proxy force. Along with the tanks, a mech of some sort appeared as well. It was quite large, but not big enough to tower over the others too much. It was humanoid in appearance. In one hand, it carried what looked like an oversized rocket launcher. In the other, a shield of some sorts. It's body was sleek and metallic. Black with red stripes running down it. It's head was a simple cylinder, with a thin blue line running near the top.

"Shit! HADES up! Aim for the thing's legs! Watch for the other tanks!" Antilles transmitted in a hurry. However, despite his orders, 3-4 advanced. The tank fired it's cannon at the mech. The mech raised it's shield, bouncing the railgun-propelled KP round off of it as if it were an air pullet that struck a brick wall. Just as it blocked the round, the mech began to run towards 3-4. "Get out of there, 3-4!" Antilles transmitted, just before the mech's giant leg came up. It struck the side of 3-4's armor. Antilles wasn't expecting the tank to tip over, but, however, there it went. The tank flipped over, and now rested on it's top. "Goddammit! Kill that thing before it gets us, too!" Just as he finished transmitting, though, the mech aimed it's launcher right at Antilles. He could see the barrel begin to light up. Killed by a gundam. Never thought it would have ended like this.

[Ardavia]

"I wouldn't mind talking or trying to get along together, but as it stands, you're right. As long as things continue like this, neither side will back down, but the thing is, we're making by on a planet destroyed by nuclear fire, trying to survive, when some psychotic nutters from outer space come and rape the laws of the universe while they're trying to conquer us", Raven replied, slamming another magazine of bolts home into his gun. All around him, Zero's shots were hitting home, doing more damage than a gun that size should, but not enough to breach the armour plating.

Yet. With enough time, it definitely would rip through.

Second salvo, fire., he subvocalized into his radio, letting loose yet another salvo of bolts. Mass-reactive shells slammed home into Zero's suit, destroying the fabric, but barely scratching the man himself, and ripped the gun away.

Seconds after he depleted his magazine and began to slam another one in, the other guns joined in, another wall of ammunition heading for Zero. Yet again, the man was obscured by dust, and Raven subvocalized another order. "Time to rip and tear", he ordered, slinging the bolter onto his back and withdrawing a chainsword.

Revving the blade, he observed as the soldiers around him withdrew their personal melee weapons, though most carried HF blades or powerswords, and prepared for their favourite element, close combat. "Everyone else, keep eventual enemy reinforcements occupied, I'm going to keep this son of a bitch occupied", he subvoxed again, taking a one-handed grip on his blade and activating the Stormshield, covering his front in a personal force shield projected by his left arm.

"Alright, what do you say we resolve this like people did about 700 years ago, with swords, eh?" Raven challenged, revving the blade. Monomolecular teeth whirred around the blade as he thumbed the engine button. While the chainsword could be used to just chop with a revving blade for cutting power, he preferred to use it the way Kingston had designed the blade, by chopping into the enemy and then gunning the engine in order to rip away flesh and dig into the enemy. Kingston actually had gotten some really good ideas when designing close combat weapons for the new generation of the Autarch's Guard, just a few months ago.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero
Holy Japonian Empire; ???

January 4th, 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan
1120 Hours

Within the clearing dust that obscured him, Yami's eyes glowed red in a menacing fashion. What seemed like an equally red glow of a grin appeared below the eyes, as the shape of a sword also shone to his left side. When it all was clear, Yami was then clothed in what seemed like Chinese male clothing from the Ming dynasty. In his hand an ordinary katana. His red eyes were somewhat hidden behind his blond hair. A most contradicting entity.

"Unfortunate for you, son, while I wouldn't exactly call my marksmanship bad, I have 5000 years of experience in handling swords. I have no needs for eventual reinforcements, Raven, I am the reinforcements."

As soon as he finished his sentence, an Ardavian soldier rushed at him.

"Incredible speed, lad."

Who then split in three, as the blond appeared right behind, his own back turned to the soldier's.

"Shame that you couldn't be faster."

The first of the attackers fell. Yami regained his stance, and gave Raven what seemed like a stare deep into his soul. As though the one standing before him was literally getting into the deepest parts of his mind.

"Alright, let's resolve this like old-fashioned gentlemen: with swords. Pray that you return in one, boy.", the even-bigger-grin-than-before of Yami made clear to Raven that swordsmanship was his advantage, not marksmanship.

[Gigaverse]

Kyler Kingston
"Lieutenant", ???

???
???
???

Apparently, Kingston was finding himself in Japan. But definitely not the Japan he knew. It was a Japan completely ravaged by warfare. Everywhere he walked, he saw corpses. People wailing for their lost ones. Little children crying over their parents' dead bodies. Smoke, fire, rot; all the elements of a battlefield. And it was all of those times he got to see it firsthand, without going through visors or air-filters.

Everywhere around him, if not covered by fire, was dark. He followed the mysterious blond gentleman, without knowing where the man was leading him.

"We have arrived."

Kingston paused. In front of him were what seemed akin to a miniature version of the Frenkish supercity. Outside were all kinds of military units: tanks, helicopters, fighter aircraft, and what seemed to be humanoid-looking machines.

"Hold on tight.", the blond said, as he suddenly grabbed Kingston - a man slightly burlier and taller than he was - an put him on his shoulder with ease.

"What the..."

"Shut up."

And he leaped. So quick, so high and so far that before Kingston could utter a scream or anything from the sudden force, he already felt a palm over his mouth. He then found himself sitting on the wall in front of the army he saw previously.

"And sit here.", the blond asked Kingston. Much to his surprise, the man spoke English so clearly that Kingston could no longer detect a nationality.

The man stopped covering Kingston's mouth, as he stood up and looked down upon the army, his right eye as blue as ever under the moonlight, while his blond hair seemingly shone in an almost divine fashion; accompanied by a straight stand that could only belong to a commander of high esteem. In contrast, his black long-coat and the katana he drew and held in his left hand, along with the eye-patch, made him looked as dangerously vicious as ever. Combined, he looked like the God of War himself had appeared in the midst of the battlefield, before the eyes of the combatants.

"It's... It's...", a voice said, from inside the army down below.

"THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERATION!!!", another voice shouted. Both voices seemed clearly Frenkish... ish.

"I KILL MYSELF!", yet another voice spoke. This time, it was jarringly Asiatic.

No matter the voices, at the immediate sight of the man, men started to exit their vehicles. They either ran away or drew pistols out, eating several shots that blew their heads up.

The commander of the then semi-capitulated army exited his own vehicle and shouted:

"COWARDS! IT'S JUST ONE SOLDIER!"

"FOOL! HE'LL KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US TO THE LAST!"

Kingston analyzed the situation. Apparently, the man was indeed such an influential figure to his enemies that upon seeing him, they would immediately take either escape or suicide as the option. With only the commander of that army and a few enemy soldiers remaining, they must be either very brave, very foolish or all fresh troops to the battlefield without any experience.

"The first and the third. They're by no means foolish."

Kingston startled. It seemed the man either knew how to read minds, or was just so smart he could figure out what he was thinking.

"So... you can speak English... after all."

"And Chinese. And Russian. And French. And Spanish. Or maybe you like German?"

Kingston could only stare. Every single language he spoke was absolutely perfect by the standards of even locals.

"Come. This army is frozen. The siege has effectively ground to a halt... for now. They'll come back in 2 hours or so."

The man walked away, leaving KIngston to look down several of the angry enemy soldiers sticking their middle fingers up to the direction of the wall. Kingston then gave them his own middle finger before he himself stood up and continued following the steps of the mystical blond man.

[New Frenco Empire]

Corporal Einan Dunlap
3rd Jump Group; Orbital Marine Corps "Exo Company"; Imperial Space Force

January 4th, 2293
Russia, Caucasus Mountains, Krivoshchekovskaya
2210 Hours

Russian soldiers roped down from their VTOLs, rifles in hand. One of the Mi-95s deployed a squad of nine at one end of the village, while a second deployed another squad at the other. The third hovered over the ridge opposite to Dunlap, near the satellite station. It's passengers roped down, right across from their own position. "Fuck..." Kindale cursed as he scanned the village below. "Looks like they're closing off the village's perimeter. Eighteen soldiers down there, nine up here." He looked to Comrade, who was leaning over the fence, worryingly watching the Russian soldiers move towards the village. "I thought you said the nearest National Fort was emptied of most combat personnel. Deployed to Mongolia, weren't they?" She looked at Kindale. She was frowning. Her face showed the first real hint of fear Dunlap had seen from her. "I, uh...it was! I swear! This is why militia was deployed like this. Militias are never mobilized unless the local army is shipped off. This is mistake!"

Kindale cursed at himself again. "This just got a whole lot more high-profile. We were expecting a few nationals at our target, but..." He shook his head. "Whatever. Let's just hope this lot saw the smoke and decided to investigate without reinforcements. We've killed a couple dozen rag-tag militiamen. Twenty seven guys with professional training and equipment will be a hell of a lot more difficult," Kindale looked to Dunlap this time. "But as long as Dunlap's aim is as good as it usually is, we won't have a problem." He said with a soft chuckle. Dunlap grinned behind his helmet. Comrade even forced a laugh, though, it was easy to tell it was forced and desperate. "Alright, enough chit-chat. Dunlap, get back on your rifle. Prioritize your shots on the Nationals across the ridge. Don't alert them to our presence just yet. The key to fighting these guys is stealth. Speaking of which..." Kindale opened up his databoy. After hitting one of the buttons, he was instantly covered in a field of invisibility. Dunlap switched his own on before he needed to be told. "Stealth chips on. If they even think there's a sniper in their midst, they'll find us." He threw Comrade a spare databoy. "Strap it on your wrist. Yeah. Like that. Give it a minute to scan your body...That should do it. Hit the small purple button in the corner." Following Kindale's instructions, she did as she was told. She was covered in a field of camouflage. "Be sure and give it back when we're done. The HVT will need it."

Dunlap let his HUD pick out each visible target across the ridge. Four of the soldiers were instantly highlighted, and two more were shortly after they walked around the corner of the building and got into his line of sight. He looked to the right a bit more to find a seventh. The other two were missing. Probably in the building. The soldiers all had their weapons carefully drawn and aimed at the structure. They might have already came across the scene they left. Hopefully they'd pin it on the communists in the valley below and not think to check the ridges. "Straggler to the right. I think you can get him." Kindale said. Dunlap picked his shot, and let his HUD estimate where he needed to shoot at to make his kill via the little glowing boxes. He let the box gently nudge into his crosshair. When it touched the middle, he squeezed the trigger. Within an instant, the soldier slumped, dead before he hit the ground. "They didn't see their buddy fall. Get another one before we move." Kindale whispered into his comms. Dunlap managed to find another soldier to the left, away from the others, but close enough that the body would be found eventually. He repeated the process, and took him down as well. "Alright, let's move to the right. A little closer." Dunlap hoisted his rifle up, and moved on the ridge, letting his cloak hide him.

Below, Johnston's BMP and Comrade's rebels were clashing with the remnants of the militia. The professional nationals seemed to linger on either end of the village, hesitant to jump to the aid of the citizen-soldiers. "Almost like they're waiting for something..." Comrade chimed. "We'd do well to finish off these pigdogs and get back to my people quickly." Before anyone could respond to her plea, Kindale raised his hand. "I can see 'em from here. They found the corpses. They have two snipers watching the ridge lines. Four others are heading right towards us. Get down, and hope they don't look at their heartbeat sensors." Dunlap followed the NCO's orders, and slowly took position on his stomach. Within a minute or so, Dunlap could see four soldiers walking the same path they were on, guns at the ready, constantly scanning the horizon. "Let them pass." Kindale whispered. As the soldiers walked closer and closer towards them, Dunlap could feel his heartbeat speeding up, and it only got faster for every inch they took. By the time the soldiers were walking right next to them, Dunlap had to hold his breath. After a few seconds, they were past them. They didn't pick them up.

"Alright. We're clear, but stay quiet. We're going to have to take out those snipers. Dunlap, move to the station. The targets are on the roof. Comrade and I are going to get the jump on the four behind us. Be careful, though. There is one one of 'em still unaccounted for. After you're done, meet us over on the other side. There's a power station there, and a wall that will take us right down into the village. Good luck." Dunlap nodded as he parted ways with his allies. He decided to sling his gauss rifle on his back, and instead go with his carbine. It would serve him better at the mid-range engagement he would possibly be entering. After coming within sight of the station, he used his HUD to pick out the snipers. They were indeed on the roof, using the dish for cover as they scanned the ridge for the sniper that killed their friends. As long as they didn't shift to the left for whatever reason, Dunlap would ensure that they die looking. He switched off his camo to preserve energy as he approached the door. Before opening it, he looked over his shoulder. There was still a single soldier still out there, undetected. They couldn't have been too far away. He shrugged, as he turned the handle, and opened the door.

He slowly pressed the ancient wooden door open. However, just when a crack small enough to fit a child was revealed, the door jammed. Dunlap tried to force it open, but it was stuck. Something -or maybe even someone- was blocking it. Just as he tried to force it again, a small grenade was thrown from the inside of the crack to the outside. Just as the door closed, Dunlap took a good look at it. Sensory. He didn't have time to react when it detonated. His power helmet's visor blocked out most of the explosion, it didn't filter enough to save him from the intense pain and disorientation. He managed to fight most of it, but he was still stumbling around and he could feel himself bleed from his nose and ears. As the door opened, he aimed his carbine at it, ready to gun down whoever it was who threw it. Just as he pulled the trigger, he then realized...there was no trigger. He dropped his weapon and somehow ripped it's strap off of him whenever he was stunned. He instead decided to use his massive weight to his advantage. Just as the door opened to reveal a Russian soldier wielding a pistol, Dunlap plowed into her. It didn't matter how strong she might have been, a large man wearing a heavy exoskeleton wasn't an easy lift.

By the time they were on the ground, Dunlap had recovered most of his senses. He could hear several of the soldier's rib bones breaking under his pressure and her shrieks of pain that followed. He moved his arms towards her neck. He was content with choking her to death. He'd already made too much noise. However, Dunlap didn't see that she still had the pistol in her hands. When he started to move his arms, he unintentionally freed hers. By the time his mud-caked gloves found it's way to her neck, she brought the handgun up to his head. He was forced to duck as she squeezed a round off right over his head. He brought his left arm up, and pinned her right to the ground. She managed to squeeze off three more shots into the nearby wall when Dunlap's right arm found it's way to his boot. He quickly unsheathed his combat knife as she kicked and screamed. Before she could try her gun again, he brought the knife down into her throat. With a harsh choking sound, he brought it back up. He quickly got to his feet, and watched the desperate sight of the young Russian soldier grabbing at her neck as she drowned in her own blood. After a few long seconds, she finally gave one last horrible choke, and stopped shaking. Dunlap didn't exactly feel any regrets in killing her, but he couldn't help but feel if he should have just slit it instead of stabbing. He shrugged, and decided he did what he did. No changing it now. Better some Slavic bitch than him.

Just as he readied himself to move to the top and engage the snipers, he could hear them already moving down the stairwell, attracted by the noise. Dunlap didn't have time to find his own rifle. Instead, he reached down to the dead soldier, and ripped the AKR-7 (secured to her by a pair of frontal-straps) off her corpse. He waited until the pair were down on his level. Just as they spotted him and yelled something in Russian (a language Dunlap didn't know, despite his deployment), he emptied the magazine into them. By the time the gun clicked, he checked to ensure they were dead. After his doubts were gone, he threw the gun aside and secured his own carbine. By this time, Dunlap figured Kindale and Comrade had finished their task. He headed out to meet them.

He stepped out, and approached the fence to look over the battle and check for anything new. Just as he looked, he spotted yet another Mi-95 flying away. More soldiers? He decided to get a closer look with his rifle's scope. After positioning it right on the area below the VTOL's drop-off area, his heart sank. Instead of more standard infantrymen, he spotted something a lot more horrifying: Russian Power Armor. The Ruskies are bringing out their own toys. Not good.

[Ardavia]

Zero's stare didn't bother him too much, there wasn't much in his soul to find anyway. The other thing did, however.

5000 years of swordsmanship? Seriously? Ah, well, I can work with this, Raven thought, revving his blade and twirling the sword in his hand as nearly a ton of Marine crashed into the ground in three pieces. Another one charged, this time boosting his massive speed with the jumppack, but Zero merely sidestepped without even cutting, and Raven got to observe the rarely seen effect of nearly a ton of supersonic Marine crashing into a building.

If it wasn't for the life or death situation, he would have laughed. In fact, even despite that, he still laughed. It looked like something out of a comedy film. Then he stopped, gripping his blade in one hand, and, stormshield forming a barely visible barrier that could withstand anything in front of him, charged, heedless of any obstacles. His cyborg body may not be able to be affected by biochemical reactions like adrenaline, but pumping combat drugs straight into his brain to boost his reaction speed to even more superhuman levels did still work. Of course, none of that would be effective without his cyborg body there to react faster.

Even the superhuman agility and reactions of the K-class Spartans could not match him by a long shot. The only problem was basically that it eroded his brain, decreasing his mental stability even further, but as his grandfather had liked to say, "FULL SPEED AHEAD AND DAMN THE TORPEDOES", or in said grandfather's case, the Chinese bombs, but whatever.

Zero may have had five thousand years of experience and the best technology and whatever else was at work behind him. Raven was the absolutely best single combatant his generation, and entire country, had ever produced. That was, single combatant, he wasn't nearly as good against anything like combined arms. Infantry on infantry, he was a killing machine. His amplifiers produced an earthshaking booming noise as he screamed, echoing all the way into Tokyo and deafening any normal human in the vicinity, which was basically all his Shock Marines. Not that they'd be particularly hindered by temporary loss of hearing, but it was still an impressive effect. Not that Zero cared. Zero... yawned, and then took a stance in preparation for combat as nearly a ton of ceramic armour and metal flew at him, brandishing a massive sword and a shield capable of withstanding anything up to the nuclear level and a few things on that level.

[New Frenco Empire]

Guess who's back? Yeah, from this point onward, Anocta and Koryo are retconned. Instead, another NPC nation, the Republic of Antarctica, will be taking their place in Antarctica. Nothing you really need to know, aside from the fact that they're basically American exiles who fled to Antarctican vacation resorts after the war and stayed there as isolationists ever since. More info to come soon on them.

Corps Sergeant Ivan Yates
Infiltration Team Niner; 62nd "Hellhound" Platoon; Able Company; Ranger Corps; Imperial Joint Defense Office

December 31st, 2292
Unknown Location; Jefferson Region; The Republic of Antarctica
0300 Hours

It's always the bear. The four Rangers (three, really. Amazon was as dauntless as ever) crept through the heavy snow, eyes and ears open for any kind of threat. Every single noise made their rifles go up, and their hearts skip beats, but, of course, it's always the bear. More than once, Yates was considering putting the damned thing down. Amazon insisted that it could be useful, but ever since it joined their party, it's been nothing but a liability and a reason to shit your pants. However, he decided to let her keep it around. Hell, the walk would be long, and the bear did have a sense of perception about it. Still, Yates couldn't help but feel they were being watched. That wasn't the bear.

He tried to put these worries aside. Their electronics were at bare minimum. No one could pick them up unless they were well within range of the Rangers detecting them first. Their nanosuits were colored for the environment. The wormy black armor turned into a ghost white, while the blood red visor was a light grey. Invisible. Even if their armor could be seen, they could always literally turn invisible. Still...it was a dark, eerie feeling. They weren't supposed to be here. Not only because the nation whose snow they were currently trudging through considered their own nation illegitimate and it's government "terrorists" (and Yates knew that the Republicans would treat them like any other terrorist), but, rather...something entirely different. Something else. He tried not to ponder on it too much, but the feeling just kept returning, interrupted only by the occasional groan from the bear.

His constant state of worry and anticipation came to the halt with an unidentified movement on his motion tracker. "Hold up! Reading something." He looked at his tracker details. "Aircraft. Moving in from behind us. Probably a scout. Hit the snow and turn on your cloaks." He sighed. "And for Emperor's sake Amazon, make sure that bear doesn't do anything stupid." They did as he told them, and within a few seconds, they were concealed. Like they were not even there. As far as whoever was in that aircraft was concerned, they weren't. After a minute or so, the helicopter soared over them. It was gone without the slightest hesitation. After a minute or so of laying, Yates decided it would be safe. "Alright. Don't think it'll be coming back. Resume advance." Yates effortlessly raised to his feet, secured his M81, and continued to tread among the deep, white banks. The rest followed. "A Mosquito. Good for naval scouting, useless for finding things on the ground. Leave it to the Republic to misuse the military equipment they haven't used in 200 years." Raptor chimed dryly. Bernard. A good man to hold a gun. Not so good to properly analyze the scenario. Wells seemed a bit more in-groove, though. "Didn't you see how it was moving? It wasn't looking for us or anything on the land. It was headed somewhere. Don't know why a navy scout drone would be this far inland, but I'm not the Antarctican Commander-in-Chief." Incubus said, a bit of snark showing in his tone.

Silence fell after that, and with silence came the same old feeling. For half an hour, they marched on. The bear's sounds didn't bug them much anymore. Whatever Amazon was doing to it, it was working quite well. Maybe she was right. This wild animal could be an asset of some sort. Yates was about ready to trust it before it started growling wildly. "Amazon..." He said, irritated. She tried to whisper calming words to it, but it did nothing to stop it. He was about ready to put a bullet between it's eyes himself before his motion tracker bustled with movement. He examined it further. Red dots. All around them. Very close. "Halt!" He shouted to his team. He brought his rifle up, and examined the area, quickly looking from one end to another. "I'm getting a ton of unidentified readings. A dozen, at least." After a few seconds, Yates found his guard getting down. There's nothing here. No thermal readings, no electronic disruption, nothing. He figured his HUD's motion tracker was screwing up. However, just as he began to lower his rifle, half a dozen soldiers appeared from nowhere, apparently using active camouflage of their own. Their silenced rifles were pointed right at them. However, the most disheartening part of the entire ordeal wasn't the fact that this unknown enemy managed to sneak up on them. No. It was what they were yelling. Rather, not what they were yelling exactly, it was the language Yates recognized. French.

[Ardavia]

>Begin timeskip

June 7th 2295
Looking out over Southern Ardavia
1200 Hours

Deathwatch Sergeant Alaster Jameson, Eight Kill-Team, Inter-Dimensional Supervision Bureau Branch XXI, Ardavian Government Black Ops

Alaster looked down at his body, ceasing his gawking at the view from his quarters. The improvements were finally done, and secretly, he was glad over it. Even though the old Spartan who had been training them had noted that the readings from their pain receptors had told him that the pain they felt was nothing compared to the agony cybernetization was, Alaster was still very glad it was over, because damn had it hurt.

Despite all that, he regretted nothing. It was damn well worth it, looking down at his body. Eight feet of superhuman muscle, clad in nothing but the under-armour suit that protected his limbs and back from the moving parts. His chest was exposed, holding the Black Carapace, a black polymer plate housing several connector ports under the skin on his torso. There, the Mark VIII Imperator armour, the specialized Mark VII variant for the Deathwatch, would hook up, turning the armour from a massive dead weight to a second skin.

Looking at his quarters, he saw his rifle standing there, a box of high-velocity armour-piercing 12.7x120mm rounds lying next to it. The massive rifle weighed almost twenty kilograms, which in his hands was nothing at all, and he used it as a battle rifle.

Normally, it was a heavy-duty sniper rifle used for taking out power-armoured troops and light vehicles, mounted on a supporting tripod that absorbed the recoil. Personally, he had requested it from the armoury instead of a bolter. The reason being, as the rest of his squad could lay down enough bolter fire to tear open anything in their way, he had decided to instead go for being able to take out targets with more accuracy, instead of overwhelming firepower.

In another corner of his quarters, the massive suit of armour that was his suit of Mark VIII Imperator was standing, the hulking piece of armour looking like a statue, the matte black finish, blue and silver pauldrons and unlit red eyes making for a rather intimidating sight. His gaze drifting to the next thing in his rather empty room, the chainsword resting in the third corner, at the end of his bed.

The blue blade cover and the yellow leather wrapping around the handle were glossy in the light, having just been cleaned from the last battle the sword had seen, where it had been wielded by his predecessor as leader of the Eight Kill-Team Second Squad, Sergeant Ackerson, now KIA. Having been rewarded the sword in his office as squad leader, he had been put on cleaning it.

While he had been promoted to the Deathwatch after exemplary service in the Shock Marines, nobody had seen fit to tell him that he was going to be squad leader. At 34, he was also the oldest member in the squad, leading to him having a group of soldiers under him who in certain cases had seen more action than him in the Deathwatch. Why exactly he was squad leader was also unknown to him. Finally, above his bed, a bolt pistol was hung up.

Stepping towards his armour, he heard the auto-squire begin operation, and three servo-arms lowered from the ceiling to help him suit up.

After fifteen minutes, he stepped out of his quarters, sealing the door behind him, chainsword at the hip and rifle on his back. Combat exercises were in an hour, he reminded himself, stepping into the elevator.

While the tower was strong and durable, having combat exercises in it was not a good idea, for several reasons, one of the larger ones being that it was a residential area.

>End timeskip

(OOC: Might do more later, depends)

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero
Holy Japonian Empire; ???

January 4th, 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan
1123 Hours

In a flash, as Raven flew at Yami, the blond once again "disappeared", only to reappear behind.

Then, a cracking noise could be heard, coming from the shield.

"First, if you want me to take you seriously, boy: Away with that shield.", Yami said.

[New Frenco Empire]

Corporal Einan Dunlap
3rd Jump Group; Orbital Marine Corps "Exo Company"; Imperial Space Force

January 4th, 2293
Russia, Caucasus Mountains, Krivoshchekovskaya
2220 Hours

Dunlap looked on as the power-armored troops devastated the insurgents below with heavy weaponry and invulnerability to their small arms fire. It was easy to see that the Russians had sandwiched the insurgents in. With a squad of troops on both exit sides and a heavy infantry force dropped into the middle, the insurgents were slowly being hammered between a rock and a hard place. Johnston's BMP, however, had retreated towards the west, near a canyon wall. He and the Bolsheviks who decided to follow him were spared the worst of it, though, Dunlap knew that once the rest were dead, the Russian soldiers would come at them in full-force.

Dunlap had rendezvoused with Comrade and Kindale at the station. "My men are getting torn apart!" She pleaded. Kindale shook his head. "This has gone far enough. Our promise to you was to take this village from a few armed citizens. Not the Russian Nationals and their power armor. We are out!" She put her hand on Kindale's shoulder. "Please, just focus your sniper fire on armor. We can still win this day!" Kindale pulled back, and continued shaking his head. "No. It isn't our concern. As far as I can tell, the militia is all dead. We've done our part. Tell us where we can find the package." After a few moments of silence, Kindale got closer to Comrade. "Now!" He boomed. Comrade stood her ground. "I'm dead anyway, pathetic pigdog son of a bitch. Aye, by the dream of Marx, I..." Mid-sentence, Comrade seemed to forget her second language in her rage. However, while she was rambling in Russian, Kindale picked her up. After a fit of cursing and useless slapping (which probably hurt her, considering he was clad in power armor), Kindale dangled Comrade over the ledge.

"By God help me! Alright!" She yelled, almost immediately. Kindale pulled her up, not bothering to be gentle. "Package is to North. Three quarter mile outside Krivo. Sasha say red house on hill. Can't miss." She looked to Kindale. "Thanks for the hard work, I guess. If you excuse me, I'll be joining my men in Krivo to die with them." Just as she begin walking off, Kindale flagged her down. "Alright, that's all we wanted. You may be some stubborn communist bitch, but you do know how to guilt trip. We need to get that package and get out ASAP, but we might still be able to help..."

After some deliberation, it was decided that Dunlap would leave his gauss rifle in the hands of the Bolsheviks' best shot. Johnston would also leave the BMP to any Bolshevik who wanted it. All three of the marines were also to leave a few spare magazines of M1242 ammunition to help the Bolsheviks stand against the armored units. However, most importantly, Kindale gave Comrade control of the Frumentarii UAV which was originally intended to comb the mountains and search for the package and provide air support to Kindale and his team. "It's landed inside an abandoned barn about two klicks out. Just hit the button on this pad and it'll be here in less than a minute. You can also use the pad to control it, whenever you're ready to blow the place to hell." Kindale told her.

Kindale recommended they use the rifle to weaken one side of the Russian perimeter, giving the insurgents a chance to escape. Meanwhile, someone either brave or stupid enough will take the BMP and draw the fire of the armored units, probably dying in the process. After the force retreats, Kindale suggested "cutting their losses" by utilizing the Frumentarii's armament to level the place. Comrade wasn't sure about the strategy, but she was thankful enough. As the pair met up with Johnston at the cliff's base, ready to head out, Dunlap couldn't drop the feeling that they would meet Comrade again. It didn't matter, though. The package was all that did matter.