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

[New Frenco Empire]

Sergeant Mitchell Hampton

January 4th, 2293
Tokyo, Japan
0700 Hours

"Hampton, are you daft?" Kale asked, half-confused and half-annoyed. "There was a gunship in the air. MRAPs can only take so much. I know you saved Lowski, but still..." Hampton shrugged. "They don't pay me for my smarts. Leave that to the civvies. Hell, the bastards fell for it, didn't they?" Kale sighed, and continued to work on his databoy, attempting to contact anyone within range.

It was an awkward few moments. The soldiers kept to their positions, convinced the Hollows would counterattack again. Eventually, the group saw a welcome sight: Frenkish soldiers, stumbling out from behind the many dumpster-vaporizers and rubble forts they were hidden behind. "Son of a bitch," Mont muttered as he walked towards Hampton and Lowski. His perception of time and space were severely altered by remaining in a frozen state for so long. Hampton grabbed him just as he was about to fall over. "Will ya make it, Sarge?" He said.

Mont shook his head. "Dammit. I. Hate. Those. Fuckers. What happened while we were out?" Hampton opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, he heard a rumbling. A very loud one. Extremely loud. Earth-shakingly loud. It was apparent the ground was vibrating around him. The formerly disoriented soldiers managed to get it back together when they noticed the shaking. Many raised their rifles at it, gripping them tightly in fear. After the shaking got more and more intense, Falen noticed the shape on the horizon. Just above the cluster of buildings. "Over there!" She screamed.

Just then, the shape overtook the buildings, plowing them down, literally driving through them. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?!?!" Kale yelled, as the platoon raised their weapons at the massive landship of a tank. The tank had already seen them, and began unleashing it's payload. The huge shell from the main gun was fired at the Hollow building behind them, completely destroying it. The smaller gun below it was busy destroying the many cars and vehicles scattered about. Hampton saw it target the MRAP. He ran away, as the shell struck the vehicle, causing it to go up and flames. Before he knew it, the entire platoon was running away from the firepower of the slow, intimidating landship-tank.

[New Frenco Empire]

Elizabeth Devereaux

January 2nd, 2293
Hollow Africa
0835 Hours

Elizabeth moved along with her squadmates, careful not to get spotted by one of the Frenkish CLAWS mechs. They may have been a tough bunch, but once those 20mm gauss turrets ripped into you, it didn't matter how skilled you were. "Eliza, where is your gun?" Samantha asked in a mix of confusion and irritation. Elizabeth looked down to see that she hadn't constructed one. "Oh...right..." Elizabeth said, more emotionless than in actual realization. She set about envisioning it in her arms. Though, she did not want to have to use it. In fact, she wouldn't have built one at all if Sam didn't say anything. The Hollows may have been her new faction, but the last thing she wanted to do was engage her former countryfolk.

She knew deep inside she probably would have had to eventually, but she put it off as long as she could. The Frenks (at least, the lowly soldiers. She could still consider the likes of Hightower and Zane to be beneficial for the present) may have been her enemies now, but she owed them so much. They brought her up as a soldier. They educated her, gave her a life in her country. She was born there. She fought in their armies. She killed for them. Thinking back to her injuries during Raven's Coup, she even bled for them. Now, she was faced with a decision: Kill the Frenks (Vanguards, at that) or end up being killed by the Frenks, all the while letting Keiji and all the others down. She sighed as she opted for the former, and finished her assault rifle.

They eventually reached Keiji, who was on his knees, staring blankly at the ground. He seemingly ignored the plethora of plasma-heated bullets and magnetically accelerated rounds zooming by his head. Meimei was the first to reach him, but it wasn't Archambault made it that they decided to do anything with Keiji. Archambault, being the biggest and strongest of the group, grabbed Keiji by his midsection and effortlessly slung him on his shoulder. The group, while occasionally firing off a burst to cover themselves, then moved to the nearby wreckage of an ancient Russian T-55 tank (this and several other vehicles were here long before the Hollows. The grounds around the base was swarming with them. Probably the result of some long-forgotten turf war between cartels or warlords).

By the time they reached the safety of the tank, Archambault had already gently put the traumatized commander in cover for Meimei to investigate. "Hmm..." The small girl chimed. "Seems to be in some sort of shock. Happens to the best of us, but I never figured Keiji would be the type to..." Elizabeth cut her off. "They have Youko..." She said dreadfully. Meimei's straight face then devolved into a frown. "Oh...I suppose..." Meimei sighed as she failed to finish. She then loaded a strange syringe into her gun. "This might..." She started, before Keiji's hand grabbed the gun and interrupted her. "I. Am. Fine." He said, the anger getting harder and harder to hide with each word. Elizabeth approached him. "Listen K, if they have Youko, I want to help bring her back. She's-" Keiji's heated words cut her off. "She's what? Some innocent virgin for you to pick up on a lonely Friday night? A piece of ass for your kind to drool over before shortly moving onto another? A tight, young pussy for you to rub against your own for the most intense of pleasure? What is she, ELIZABETH!? A mouth for you to stick your tongue, which has probably been inside dozens, no, hundreds, of different men and women's orifices, inside? Face it. Once a Frenk, always a Frenk. You want to bring her back so you can finish that business you had last night." Silence. Even with the sounds and vibrations of battle going on all around them, the squad awkwardly viewed the confrontation.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. She is my friend. I want to free her from the torture and bondage. Call me whatever you want, I'm still a Frenk." She grinned. "Finishing that business would only be a bonus. Fucking your sister is part of our culture." No one (particularly not Keiji) found it funny, with the exception of Samantha, who had to hide her chuckling. Keiji stepped in close to Elizabeth. "Whatever. Just leave my sister to me." He drew his katana, and jumped to the top of the tank. He gave the squad one last look. "Feel free to enjoy this shitstorm. I'm sure the Franco-Europeans coming from the North and the Frenkish reinforcements from the South will prove to be a blast." He looked away, but before he did anything else, he gave them one last glance. "I...I'm sorry. I just can't help right now. Hopefully, I can secure my sister and be back in time, but I highly doubt it. Mao is a crafty one, and now that he has that clever bastard Hightower in his pocket, I'm sure I'll be hunting her for quite some time. If Africa falls, surrender to the French. As far as they're concerned, we're just a well-organized band of PMCs. Treatment will be a bit more humane there." He gave one last look to the warzone around him before his body blinked out of existence.

"That's assuring." Samantha said in a sarcastic manner, breaking the awkward silence. "Now what? Hide here until we're beg for our lives at gun-" Once again, a dialogue was interrupted. However, this time, it wasn't from the angry rebuttals of Keiji or being unsure of what to say. No. This time, Samantha paused. Literally. Elizabeth looked at her in confusion. She was frozen. She looked around her. Everyone was frozen in time, it seemed. She peeked over the tank. Bullets were frozen in mid-air. The many troops, be they Hollow of Frenkish, were frozen doing what they did. In the distance, she even saw a CLAWS stuck in a falling over position from the force of a seemingly permanent explosion. It looked as though it were some holographic image from the 10 Years War.

She ducked behind the tank again. What in the hell is going on? Just then, she was startled by a voice. "Enjoying the scenery?" It said in a quiet, smooth British accent. She looked in every direction, but couldn't find it's source. "Come on, Emily. You're better than this! Look harder!" The second line of dialogue just spooked her. How does it know my name? My old name, at that? "It's what you've been calling yourself for the greater part of your life. Ever since that cold night on September the 18th, 2260. If you prefer Elizabeth..." My birthday too? "Yes, Emily, your birthday too." Stop reading my fucking mind! "Your mind is a reality all it's own. Reality is my trade."

She decided to stop thinking. "WHO ARE YOU!? WHAT ARE YOU!? COME OUT!" She yelled at the sky, flashing her rifle. "As you wish..." It said in a cheerful manner. Elizabeth then felt herself bump into someone. She quickly turned around to see a man with red hair, wearing the fanciest-looking suit she's seen in quite some time. He was handsome, but something about his eyes just turned her off. She didn't know what. He took a bow. "I suppose I owe you a proper introduction. I'm Alphonse. Just Alphonse." He extended his hand, and smiled. Elizabeth responded by aiming her rifle square at his face. He lowered his hand, and his smile faded. "Hmm. Emily Howell's manners were certainly in order. Elizabeth Devereaux may be a freer spirit, but she's quite rude!" Elizabeth brushed his criticism off. "Who in the fuck are you and what are you supposed to be?" She asked authoritatively, giving her a flashback in her days as an Imperial Military Officer. The mysterious man shrugged. "I already said I'm Alphonse, and my trade is reality." She ignored the snark. "What does that mean?" He smiled again. "Why don't I show you?"

[New Frenco Empire]

Corporal Einan Dunlap. Exo Company.

January 4th, 2293
Russia, Caucasus Mountains, Krivoshchekovskaya
2153 Hours

"Open fire," Kindale whispered through his comms. Dunlap raised his A-62, and, without hesitation, emptied his magazine into the four-man group. Dunlap could pick up the suppressed rounds echoing from all sides. After a second's pause, Kindale gave the "all clear" through the comms. Dunlap followed the Sergeant to the comms building, and picked out a window to fire inside. After Johnston and Comrade joined them, Kindale transmitted his "ready", smashed his window, and threw a sensory grenade through it.

After Dunlap heard the explosion, he shattered his window with his elbow, and stuck his rifle inside. He looked inside to see about half a dozen militiamen laying sprawled out on the floor, grabbing their ears, screaming, bleeding from their noses, eyes shut. Sensory grenades were one hell of a substitute for the old world flashbangs. He picked off two of the disoriented fighters. Fish in a barrel. After he verified that all of them were indeed dead, he walked around to the front of the building.

Kindale had already breached the station, and was searching every corner and crevice for survivors. After he determined there were, none, he lowered his rifle and approached the mainframe. Kindale reached into his pack and pulled out an EMP charge. "Clear," he yelled before placing on the complicated circuitry and setting it's timer. When the timer hit "0", the charge emitted a bright field of electricity, and shortly afterwards, the lights on the mainframe were off. "We're clear. They ain't callin' anyone," Kindale said towards Comrade. The woman smiled, and pulled a small flare gun from her pack. "This is good. You bourgeois pigs are good for some things. The proletariat will rise up here!"

Just as Comrade ran towards the building's exit, Kindale grabbed her by the shoulder. "Hold up there, cowgirl. We had a deal. We help you here, you help us find our package. So, where is it?" She turned around, and looked towards Kindale. "The deal was that it wasn't until the village is secure that you get help with your missions." Johnston sighed in anger, and began approaching Comrade. "Bitch, I don't reca-" Kindale put an arm up to stop him. "Calm down. She's right. Hicom gave her permission to use us as support during her assault." Johnston shook his head. "Seriously? I guess they didn't anticipate we would be in the middle of a heated battle, potentially getting our asses killed, giving Ivan the time to dispose of the package before we could secure it?" Kindale looked to Dunlap. "Look, Lance, all we need to do is get that IFV out front up and running for them, while Dunlap gives a bit of sniper support. Run of the mill stuff. These aren't Russian Nationals." Johnston sighed again. "Alright, but I'm still of the opinion that we can beat the information out of our red friend..." Johnston gave Comrade a look, though his face (likely locked in a menacing look) was concealed by the helmet.

Kindale walked to the door. "Alright, let's do this. Johnston, take that BMP down the road towards the attack point. Dunlap, Comrade, and I will keep to the mountainside paths, picking 'em off from a distance. Good luck out there." Johnston ran towards the BMP, and charged through the open door, closing it behind him. "Interior's fine. Seems they modded it up a bit. Hmmm...they have it so that it can be simultaneously driven and fired. Not sure where they got this kind of visor control from, but I like it. Might just have to bring it home with me. Taking it down." Johnston transmitted, as the BMP's engine roared and it drove down the road towards the objective. Dunlap and his two companions went back the way they came, as the paths looped across the mountains overlooking the village. Dunlap readied his APR gauss rifle. Let's do it.

[New Frenco Empire]

I skipped Hampton and Antilles, and failed to finish Dunlap. I'll get back to them. This side-story is just interesting.

Elizabeth Devereaux

January 2nd, 2293
Hollow Africa
0840 Hours

Before she could react, the man grabbed her hand, almost in a spiteful manner. Just as she tried to pull away, a bright line of purple light appeared before her, seemingly spawned from the interlocked hands. This light seemed to go through her several times, doing nothing in-particular aside from blinding her. When it disappeared after a few seconds, Elizabeth looked down to see that he had let go. He was just looking at her, straight face. "What did you do to me?" She asked. He nodded. "A simple field of protection. You'll need it if you travel with me." She glared at him in confusion. "Travel with you? Who said I wanted to do that!" He gave another grin. That dark grin. "I did."

With that, Alphonse raised his hand, and pointed it behind him. A line of light, the same bright purple that swept through Elizabeth, shot out. From the end of the beam, a "rip"-like object glowed in the middle of the air. Alphonse let his grip go, but the rip remained. "Reality tears. Gates to places beyond your wildest dreams. They're everywhere, all over the known universe. Only a select few can see them. Even fewer can exploit them. This one is rather tame, so you are in no danger. Follow me, please." Before she could protest or ask any questions, Alphonse approached the tear, and moved his arms as though he we were ripping the thing into a more exposed state. The scene on the other side was too blurry to make out, and was black and white for whatever reason, but she could see lights. Lots of lights. "Wait!" She said, before Alphonse could do anything else. "Really, answer me, who are you? Why are you taking an interest in me?"

Alphonse (yet again) gave a grin. "My dear Emily, you gave yourself over to the Prophet as though he were your favorite actor or role model, without so much as a question. I don't have to explain myself to you. My mystery and your curiosity will collide, meaning, by your own action, all will be explained." Without further word, he stepped through the tear, disappearing. Elizabeth stared at the tear, speechless. After thinking for a moment, remembering his words, she cursed to herself and approached the tear. It was still difficult to make out what was on the other side, but she thought she could see the outlines of buildings. She put a hand out, hesitant to interact with the paranormal anomaly. "Fuck it..." She muttered, as she slowly stepped through the tear, unsure of what rest on the other side.

She closed her eyes, expecting it to be like her transition from straight biological to transcyber, back in 2290. It wasn't, however. The transition was flawless. It was almost like walking through a door. Just like it, really, aside from the fact that her eyes flashed a little whenever she stepped through. She opened her eyes at the other side. All around her, she saw buildings and lights, stretching out as far as she could see. She looked down, and realized she was at the top of a building much taller than most of the others. The first thought that came to her mind was a Frenkish supercity. "That it is, Emily," a familiar voice said from behind. She turned to see Alphonse, casual as ever. "What is this place?" She asked. He smiled and circled around, hand behind his back, eyes shifting to the rooftops. "You don't recognize World City? Largest community within your Empire?" He said, not giving her a single glance. "Wait? this is World City?" She said, bewildered. Instead of replying, Alphonse gave a casual nod. "Notice anything different?" He asked gleefully. She looked around. She was about to tell him she didn't, but then she caught a glance at a towering skyscraper on the other side of the city. She couldn't make out what was on it, but it was clearly a large banner hanging down. A black banner. With an eagle on it. "Yes, Emily. To get a clearer picture, let's take to the streets." Alphonse then repeated the process he did to enter this version of World City from the African warzone, except he opened it on ground. He then jumped through, leaving Elizabeth to do the same. She sighed, and jumped in after him.

Her feet gently touched down onto a concrete surface. She realized she was in a narrow alleyway. She could see Alphonse first thing, at the back of a large crowd, staring at the street ahead. How did they not notice our entrance? Elizabeth walked to his side, elbowed a few of the other people out of her way, and watched. All down the street, as far as the eye could see, soldiers marched and vehicles slowly rolled. Vanguard soldiers, Greatsword MBTs, CLAWS mechs, ATEV IFVs, they were all here. The one thing that stood out to her most, however, was the SecuraBots. All the SecuraBots she ever saw had a cute little smiley face whenever not in combat or interrogating suspects. These, however, all casually donned the face that they used in serious situations. "Smart girl," Alphonse whispered to her. "The small details give it all away. Oh, and by the way. Welcome to the Fascist Frenco Empire."

[Ardavia]

Time to introduce our agency of similar things to NFE's X-COM, yet to be named

January 2nd, 2293
Location unspecified
0850 Hours

███████████

"Sir, we've detected a dimensional rip. Africa, seems to be a battlefield of some sort. Satellite photos show CLAWS, some old military fortifications and tank wrecks, power armoured infantry and laser blasts of some new sort going from one side. Likely Hollow technology, and the dimension rip seems familiar to the ones we've detected over multiple areas in Frenkish territory for years. Probably Alphonse, but he seems to have taken someone with him judging by the satellite imagery", the agent by the monitoring screen said as ███████████ walked past, at the same time handing him a datapad with satellite photos on it. He looked at them briefly, realizing that someone had indeed been taken with the dimensional traveler, then put it on a desk. I need to get a team down there ASAP, we need to find that rip and secure the data from it. God dammit, the Autarch's on my ass for dimensional weapon technology already, and now we've got dimensional rips opening in Africa, in a fucking warzone. We can't get any more personnel because of the secrecy, and we're overextended as it is, and with all those damned Hollows appearing, we have our hands full assisting the Bureau already. FUCK.

"Lieutenant, get a team assembled, get power armour and M5 rifles from the armoury. You're going to scan a rift in Africa, be prepared to go in 24 hours. Area is likely to be extremely hostile and teeming with Hollows, so get the best men you can. You're cleared to load up with M1242's, actually, you're cleared to take anything. Bolters, M5 Rifles, Gauss Cannons, Meltaguns, hell, take my fucking Harbinger if you can get it onto a dropship and want it", he said, entering the office of Lieutenant Marlowe. "M1242 rounds, Sir? Do they have that kind of power armour?", the lieutenant responded. "Yes, fucking M1242's. You'll need the plasma rounds, trust me. The enemy are advanced as hell, and you'll want any possible edge you can get, so take anything you want", he said, stepping out. The lieutenant shook his head in disbelief, then took up the datapad.

Judging by the photos of the terrain, he'd want to take both Meltaguns and Bolters for his heavy troops. The rest would get M5 Rifles with M1242 rounds. After using the M1242 in an M5 rifle on the battlefield, he was pretty sure the 5.1x45mm plasma rounds could punch through those tank wrecks with ease. He wrote his notes down, and also added 25 suits of Dreadknight armour to the requisition list. Compared to the Mark VII, Dreadknight armour was as light as a 21st century BDU compared to NFE power armour, but it was way more mobile.

[New Frenco Empire]

Sergeant First Class Kensie Prissa

January 2nd, 2293
On-board the FIS McKenzy Tandi; off the coast of Frenkish South Africa
0900 Hours


Prissa stood behind Lord Admiral Wright as he watched the screen. On it, she could see Goldshade sitting quietly at the table, ignoring the various luxuries placed before her. Small plates of fresh food (they even laid out a bit of cat food for her, on account of her ears and tail, but she ignored that too), bottles of bubble-fizz or milk or or water, a carton of high-end synthetic cigarettes, even a small bag of Euphoria to calm her down. She didn't take a bit of it. Wright sighed. "Whiny bitch, we could be beating the shit out of her for information, but instead, Turner tells us to try and keep her happy and unharmed. Emperor's orders. I'm about to tell the Emperor to stuff himself. Torture would be the only way to get anything out of this one. Hell, she cries and begs for her life everytime I try to talk to her." He turned around and looked at Prissa. He gave her a wide smile. "Maybe I should send you in there. You're the best I know at roughing the uncooperative up!"

He chuckled a bit and looked at the screen. It was true. The cat-girl thing (whatever it was. The IIA told them to call her "Goldshade" and use it as the reporting name) was deathly afraid, and kept calling for someone named "Keiji" in tears. The whole ordeal was shady. Just yesterday, Wright decided to go on the Tandi's next planned training campaign. Prissa (being Wright's trusted bodyguard) accompanied him. The minute they enter African waters, Wright received a private comm-link from local IIA operatives. A few minutes later, an unmarked Icarus lands on the helipad just outside the Officer's Quarters area, and drops off Goldshade and four individuals in the strangest armor she's ever seen. Only a single operative stuck around, and that was only to film a short video of the poor girl tied and gagged. No idea why. After he left, Wright was ordered to keep the ship moving and as far away from Africa as possible. They were also told to keep the girl happy and healthy, while trying to squeeze some information on the Hollows out of her, but not by any means of force. They were also to not tell anyone about her. The four armored individuals were to remain with Goldshade. They were an even bigger mystery, but the IIA said that these guards (who were to remain with her at all times) were under the employ of asset Ares, supposedly a mercenary working for the Frenkish in Anarchist Africa. She didn't know anything about it, but apparently Ares was the one who secured her and made these arrangements. Ever since then, Goldshade just awkwardly sat in Wright's private bedchambers, occasionally crying. Not even getting up to go to the toilet.

Goldshade herself was a young woman, probably early twenties, maybe even late teens. She was rather short as well. Her hair was blonde, her skin was pale, and her figure was very curvy. She was extremely attractive, and any Frenk would probably gladly have their way with her (Prissa knew she would, if given the chance). However, her most distinctive features were her ears. They sprouted out of her hair, and looked exactly like those belonging to a cat. She also had a long, golden tail, that ended just before it hit the ground when she was walking. Prissa wasn't sure if this was some sort of mutant (if only the Orks and Red Men looked like this!) or what, but she was a mystery.

"Prissa, I've got a job for you. Before I go in there again, or decide to send in any prostitutes, I want to try my luck with you. Of course, I'm not sure why she would open up to a hardened COPI Operator and not me. No offense. Worth a shot, though." She nodded, and left the makeshift surveillance room. She hid her SIG Gauss Pistol in a holster inside her uniform, to at least try not to scare her. When she reached the door, she entered the access code, and gave her thumbprint. She then removed her sunglasses, and put her eye up to the optical scanner. "Welcome Sergeant Prissa..." The AI dinged as the door audibly unlocked. She gently pushed it open. In the center of the room, at Wright's dining table, Goldshade was sitting, head tilted towards the floor. She didn't give Prissa a second look. The four armored guards, each standing in a corner of the room, gave Prissa a glance, and put their hands on their weapons. After it was clear that Prissa wasn't an assassin or liberator, they took their hands off their swords and SMGs, but kept their eyes on her.

She approached the table, and pulled out a chair directly across from her. Prissa eyed the unopened carton of cigarettes, and began to take a pack out. "Mind if I bum one? I hadn't got the chance to visit the commissary all week." She asked, with a bit of kindness in her tone. The feline girl didn't respond. "Ah. I'll take that as a yes." She pulled out her zippo, and lit the cig. She could tell the guards around them were a bit uneasy with the open flame, but somehow, Prissa knew these guards had the situation well observed. She was no threat. After taking a few drags, she put it in the ashtray, ready to take another hit off of it if she needed it. She gave a forced, yet kind smile. "I don't blame you." Prissa said. The girl looked up at that. She could see tears in her eyes. "Wh...W-What do y-you mean?" She trembled as she spoke. Prissa picked up the cigarette, and took another hit off of it before responding. "You were unceremoniously took hostage, probably in the middle of some engagement, stuffed in a VTOL, and brought back to a ship to be questioned. I know. I used to be the one taking people against their will to be tortured, executed, and dumped in the ocean. Mostly pirates or naval insurgents. Sub-human scum. I don't feel bad about them. Sometimes, though, I had to take normal people. Young women like yourself sometimes. Well...uh, not all of them had your, uh...cute little characteristics, but that's beside the point. I never knew why we wanted them, but I didn't care. I listened to my orders, and I did it. It didn't matter how I felt about them."

Goldshade shuddered, and started to cry again. "Keiji! Help me!" She moaned. Prissa let her cry long enough to finish the cigarette, not showing any emotion to the weeping girl. "Calm down, you're special." She said, mildly annoyed. The girl stopped crying, and looked up. "Spe...Special?" She asked, dumbfounded. Prissa nodded. "Yeah. Special. We don't let every privateer stay in the Lord Admiral's chambers, eat food of this quality, and welcome them to any luxury we can provide. Hell, most aren't even kept alive this long. I'll let you in on a little secret: We aren't going to hurt you. The Emperor himself ordered it so. Do you know who the Emperor is?" The girl nodded. "M-my brother talked a-about him sometimes. Lerrick Mane? No! Darrell Kane? No, that isn't it!" Prissa stopped her. "Derrick Zane. Ruler of the civilized world. Guardian of humanity. All that over-glorified junk. Can you tell me about your brother?" The girl smiled. "Could I ever! Wait...I, uh...don't think I should...right now."

Prissa smiled back. "That's okay. If we're going to be friends, we have to take it slow. Can I visit you again in an hour or so?" Goldshade smiled. "Uh...sure! Can't wait." Prissa smiled. "Can't wait, cutie. See you then." As Prissa began to walk off, she yelled "Wait!" Prissa turned around. "I, uh...really have to go." She said blushing. Prissa smiled, and pointed at the bathroom. Goldshade nodded, and walked over there. Just as Prissa was walking out, she could hear Goldshade. "What is this? I don't know how this works!" Prissa laughed a bit under her own breath, and walked towards the bathroom. Never thought I would be the one to help interrogation targets get over their depression and teach them to use a toilet. I guess it really does come with the job.

[New Frenco Empire]

Elizabeth Devereaux

????
???? (Assumed to be an Alternate Reality World City)
????

"What...is this...place?" Elizabeth asked, dumbfounded. Alphonse shrugged, watching the military parade, not giving Eliza any mind. "I already told you. We are in the New Frenco Empire. This one is just a bit more...fascist. A lot more, actually. No gratuitous amounts of sex and drugs to be had here. No bashful nightlife to bask in at the wee hours of the morning. Not even an eccentric fashion code. These Frenks work day and night, as a collective, for the Empire. Frenkish hedonism and art have been replaced with nationalism and propaganda. The Hollows seem to think that your reality is a dystopia of unacceptable proportions. If only they got to this place..."

Alphonse yawned, still not drawing any attention from the group of people he was standing amongst. "These people are drones. If you've ever read George Orwell's 1984, it wouldn't be too far fetched. Or so I hear. That book was published a good forty years after my time. Either way, you get the message, Emily. Before we head out, would you like to go behind the scenes of this world a bit more?" He gave his trademark grin. Elizabeth was still in awe of the world before her. "Of course," she muttered. Alphonse breathed in, and swiftly repeated his process with the tears. After he opened one, he waved Elizabeth through. This time, her hesitation was less of a problem. She stepped through without worry. After walking through the hole, she looked around. She recognized the place. The Autocrat's chambers. However, it was much darker than the variation she saw in Hightower's digital world. Those same black banners baring the grey eagle hung, one on each wall. The furniture wasn't nearly as elaborate, and more utilitarian in it's design. However, the most notable features were the thousands of cords running through the room. "Go ahead. Follow them and learn, Emily." Alphonse whispered behind her.

Without looking back, she traced the cords into a smaller room off to the side. The door required key code, thumbprint, and optical scan. Without asking, Alphonse approached the door, and effortlessly opened a tear to the other side. After nodding at him, Elizabeth continued through. The cords continued down a long, dark, doorless corridor. After moments of walking, it eventually turned to the right. Elizabeth approached the wall, and peeked around the corner. She saw rows and rows of mainframes. Hundreds of them. "See, Emily, these mainframes were taken down years and years ago in your universe. Whenever the Chairman transferred from pure supercomputer to AI. You see in this world, the Chairman thought that AI would be too big of a threat. Fascists are a paranoid bunch. So, instead, he decided to cut any and every middleman." Alphonse said as he approached a large metal door off to the side. "You see Emily, there are no Emperors. No Ministers. No City Governors. No District Officials. There isn't even a Party anymore. Just him." Alphonse then opened a tear through this doorway. The pair stepped through together.

On the other side, Elizabeth saw a large control center. Dozens of men and women in dark uniforms, walking about, typing at terminals and datapal devices. Occasionally speaking into a few microphones. "Chairman's goons. They help run this show." Alphonse whispered. Elizabeth shook her head. "Can they see us?" Alphonse, seemingly in response, stepped out of the doorway, and walked into the middle of the room. None of the uniformed individuals seemed to pay him any mind. "Not unless I want them to. Come now. Let's see the Chairman." Elizabeth hesitantly followed through the crowded room. At the other end, Alphonse made another tear, and walked through. Elizabeth wasn't long in following through.

They found themselves in front of a giant screen, standing on a maintenance balcony overlooking the city streets. "Take a look," Alphonse said. Elizabeth complied, and peaked at the screen. She was expecting to see some twisted version of Hightower. She was surprised. The face on the monitor was much older looking than Hightower's. The mustache was bushier, and the hair was thinner. Suddenly, a ping of remembrance from history class hit her. "Correct, Emily. It is not Hightower. This is Mat-"..."-thew Fren." The two said in tandem at the last part. Elizabeth was dumbfounded (yet again). "To my knowledge, Matthew Fren died of a stroke in 2051. What the hell happened?"

Alphonse grinned. "Matthew Fren. Entrepreneur. Philanthropist. Wealthiest man in the world at the time of his death. Didn't care to share his hard-earned wealth with the dystopia that was mid-21st century Earth. Never would have guessed he was a nationalist, xenophobic thug. You see, this reality is based around Hightower dying in 2051. Not Fren. If Hightower didn't die, you would have had the visionary, cosmopolitan, mostly free, yet still autocratic New Frenco Empire. If Fren was alive in your reality, he would have hijacked Hightower's plans. Led a coup against the United States. Lived on inside the digital realm. Except Fren doesn't make it a hedonist's paradise. This is a nationalist's utopia. Fren doesn't have to hide behind an Emperor or puppet government for the good of the people like Hightower claimed." Alphonse pointed outwards. "The people are well-aware that their leader is eternal."

Elizabeth shook her head. "This can't be real..." Alphonse grinned. "But it is. You see, reality follows a simple formula. Lives, Lived, Will Live. Dies, Died, Will Die. Alternatives are often based around deaths and accomplishments. You see, Fren didn't die of a stroke." Alphonse opened another tear as he was talking. This one, however, was unique. You could see almost clearly through it. However, it was quite blurry, and still came in black and white for whatever reason. As far as she could tell, it was some fancy conference room. You could also hear what was going on in there. Elizabeth heard dialogue. Two men. Both voices very familiar. One she could attach to a historical hologram. The other, she's interacted directly with before. "...listen, Joe, I just think we've been at it rather hard, lately. New Rome is not complete yet. We can't rush into this. What if the government caught on to our schemes? Even worse, the Chinese? The Russians?" Pause. She could hear footsteps. "I hear you, but our contact says now or never. One unmarked cruise missile, coming straight out of Yemen on a Norwegian oil tanker. It will arrive at our Somalian complex tomorrow morning. The silo is waiting." She could then see two men walk into the picture. Matthew Fren. Joesph Hightower. "Alright, I trust you. You've made my company, Joe. You'll also be making this country. A new country. A new order." The figure she spotted as Fren made his way to a bucket containing a champagne bottle. He filled up two glasses. Just before he picked up his, he gave Hightower a grin. "If only Peter were here to see this..." He downed his champagne unceremoniously, and walked out. Hightower stood there, frowning. His facial expressions didn't show much, but Elizabeth could pick up a vibe of sadness and anger. That name, which Fren muttered so spitefully, hit Hightower. Hard.

Elizabeth could then see Hightower curse silently to himself, and draw something from his coat pocket. "Hey Matt!" He yelled at Fren, just before he left. Fren returned back into the light. "What is it, you pi-" Fren saw what Hightower had. So did Elizabeth. A pistol with a suppressor. Hightower gleefully grinned at Fren. Fren attempted to run, but before he even left the image, Hightower aimed and pulled the trigger. Twice. Fren went down, two bullets in his back. Hightower then produced a tablet from his coat. He dialed a number, and put it up to his ear. "Mr. Fren has resigned from FrenCo today." Pause. "Of course. Send someone up to clean this mess," Hightower said. Pause. "Make it look natural. A heart attack, perhaps. Goodbye." He put the tablet back into his pocket, and walked out of the image, apathetically stepping over the recently deceased Fren.

"Shocking, isn't it?" Alphonse asked. He opened up another image. "That was your reality. This one is here." With that, he opened anther window. The process repeated itself, up until Fren got the Champagne out. He did not mention Peter this time. Hightower refused the champagne, and just stepped out. However, Fren pulled something from his coat. She couldn't see it, but she knew what it was. Most definitely. "Oh, and Hightower?" Fren said. Hightower turned, still on-screen. "You're fired." Fren put a single bullet through his head. It cut off after Fren walked out, doing the same apathetic step over Hightower's body that Hightower did to his in the other image. "They both had plans to get rid of each other." Alphonse said, closing the window. "Your reality was just lucky that Hightower acted quicker."

Elizabeth rubbed her hands over her face, trying to grasp the concept. "I don't think I understand, yet...I do. Somehow." Alphonse (yet again) grinned. "The few I have brought along with me on these such ventures have a similiar reaction. Confusion...yet, understanding at the same time. More will become clear." He set about opening another window. "I hope you liked this dystopic land, but we really must be going." Elizabeth shook her head. "Where are we going." Without looking back, Alphonse responded. "You are going to grab a friend and witness the birth of Zero, Emily. It is why I have brought you."

[Ardavia]

From this point on, the Marines and Raven are going to be foul-mouthed. Also, muh angreh mehreens don't use melee weapons exclusively like the /tg/ mehreens

January 4th 2293
Nagoya, Japan
1030 Hours

Raven

"Thermal scans picking up hostiles, incoming. Looks like the same things we just killed a few of. Put away your bolters, we're going to have to beat these things with powersword and thunder hammer", Raven said into the comm as his helmet scanners started cross-referencing the position of the creatures from the spy satellite and from the camera on his helmet.

With a series of clicks, the powerswords and thunder hammers lit up with an eerie blue light. Raven looked around at his men a second time, and then he realized something. Who the fuck picked these guys for me? Half of them are Desert Fangs... oh wait..., he thought and then was interrupted. "FUUUUUUUUU-", the fourteen marines charged with the battlecry of the Desert Fangs, or, as they preferred, the self-styled Angry Marines.

The others, including Raven, just stood back and watched in amazement as the clearly-not-entirely-sane soldiers turned the dozen of creatures into beaten pulp. As the last of the creatures lay there, its limbs crushed by a thunder hammer, one of the marines picked it up, shoved a middle finger into its face, and finished the battlecry. "-UUUUUUUCCCKKKKK YOOOOUUUUUU" before putting his power sword through the thing's chest.

---

The Marksman tanks had rolled to a stop a few miles behind them, and they had advanced on their own up to this small hill. Up ahead, down between two low hills, was the Hollow field HQ. "Time to fuck them up. Really fucking bad. These are the fucking assholes who invaded us three years ago and killed tens of thousands of civilians. Are we going to let that pass? ARE WE GOING TO LET THAT FUCKING PASS?" Raven asked the Marines. They all screamed back at him, the amplifiers in their helmets sealed off to keep the outside quiet, "KILL THE FUCKERS"

Pulling up their bolters, the platoon spread out, ready to use their jumppacks to fly over the hill once the barrage stopped. "Thirty seconds to barrage. It will last ten seconds, once it ends, get your asses in there, kill every last one of them", Raven repeated his order, then flipped the safety off. The Terminators were already prepared to rush over the opposite hill. They were most likely going to be received with blazing guns, but the Marksman barrage should break that up.

The buildings of the city were three hundred meters to his right, and once this "eyesore", to use Hightower's description, was a smoldering heap of corpses, they'd move into the city. Hm, I hope the Marksmen will do their jobs, but there's not much I can do at this point, he thought.

Then the barrage came. A salvo of 155mm smart shells tore the ground open in the camp, killing a few hollows. "Alright, TIME TO RIP AND TEEEEAAAAAARRRRR", one of the Desert Fangs shouted as he activated his jumppack, quickly followed by the others.

Raven landed with a thud, his Bolter held prepared. Immediately, he put a single shell through the head of a Hollow, watching the explosive bolt turn the unfortunate soldier's head into pulpy ribbons, and then he looked down, hearing a groan. Oh. He had apparently landed on someone. He immediately rectified the error with a bolt to the man's head, then continued. It was soon clear, he guessed.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami

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Yami breathed heavily, as blood streamed down his forehead. His clothes were messy at best, having more than a few tears, with clearly open and big wounds bleeding. His right hand held his left shoulder, as he slowly strutted around the place. On the ground, corpses were everywhere, those that looked African, and those that looked Caucasian. A few had the looks of Asians, but they were otherwise not dominant in the number of bodies. Dirt was literally mixed in a river of blood; as Yami walked by, his foot caused splashing sounds within the blood of the corpses.

The blond tried to drag himself across the river of blood. He went through a few corpses that seemed familiar: a tall tan-skinned bald man, a black-haired guy clad in military uniform, a redhead with a ponytail, a girl with small frame and nurse-like clothes... He finally reached one of the bodies. One that was not male, short in stature, with blond hair and cat-like features. He knelt right next to her.

"... Y... Yuriko..."

"... N... Nii-san..."

"... It's... This curse is... OK, Nii-san... I remember... everything now..."

"I... never wanted you to. I told you to stay where he asked you to..."

"Maybe... we're just not destined to be with each other after all... Right, Izanagi-sama?"

Tears flowed down the blue eyes of both blondes, as Yami stared into the dying girl's eyes. Hers slowly and slowly closed, and finally, all there was were a lifeless shell.

Suddenly, a figure with white hair approached. He himself was covered in blood, everything from his waist down was missing. He extended his hand to Yami.

"If I cannot have my Goddess... I WILL KILL THE DEMON!"

"DIE, YOU BASTARD SON OF A BITCH!!!"

Yami turned to the crawling half-of-a-man, as he proceeded to kick it away, rushed to it, and stared at it.

"Why... I've killed..."

"YOU WILL KNOW ENDLESS TORMENT, MAO."

Yami then stuck a syringe into Mao, injecting a liquid into him. The half-of-a-man grimaced in pain, his "body" shuddering constantly. The blond then proceeded to rip open Mao's internal organs and other parts.

"This pain... SHALL BE THE PAIN YOU WILL FEEL FOR THE LAST 2 DAYS OF YOUR LIFE!!!"

After he was done digging everything out, Yami struck the crying remains with a battleaxe.

"M-Mommy?", Mao uttered his last words, before his horizontally-halved-body was vertically split in half. As the process was done, the now quartered white-haired one still lived, but was completely unable to move, since pain was all he could feel right at that moment.

Yami then let out a light cackle, before it turned into a mad heart-wrecking laugh, as he violently shed his tears down. His laugh could be heard, even from miles away.

[New Frenco Empire]

Elizabeth Devereaux

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"This tear will bring us back to your reality. However, when we get there, you will indeed have to be quick, and choose a friend. Francois Archambault. Samantha Blanca. Robbie Bartender. Murakami Taku. A group of people you've met only a few hours before in your reality. However, you all have more in common than any of you could ever dream of. Tell me, did your pasts ever come up in conversation?" Alphonse said, as he opened another tear. Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't recall. I just assumed they were Hollow special forces." Alphonse snorted. "Hollows? Are you serious, Emily? I suppose Taku could pass as one, but you're aware Blanca and Bartender are of American descent, and Archambault is French, correct?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I noticed the accents and appearances. I just assumed they were defectors or something." Alphonse smiled. "You're correct, Emily. They are indeed, defectors. However, their story aligns with yours quite well." He stopped constructing his tear, allowing it to fade out of existence. "We'll finish that business later. Time is quite on my side." He began constructing another tear. "Emily, which one of your friends would you like to learn about first?" Elizabeth thought about it for a bit. "Meimei?" Alphonse frowned. "I suppose you can, but Zhu Lingdan is different." Elizabeth frowned in confusion. "But she's one of us?" Alphonse shook his head. "She goes along with you, but she isn't one of you. I'll explain later, perhaps. Try and pick someone else." She hesitated for a minute. "Fine. I'd like to see where Archambault came from." Alphonse smiled. "Ah, yes. His story is one of my favorites." He said as he finished the tear.

The pair stepped through the gateway, which closed behind them. Elizabeth took note of her surroundings. They were in a strange temple of some sort. "Archambault and his buddies will be here any minute now," Alphonse whispered. Just as he finished, the big stone gate at the other side of the room opened. "Ah, here they are," he said. Just as it opened, a group of about ten men stepped through. Knights. "What?" Elizabeth asked, astonished. Alphonse grinned. "It's exactly what you think. Archambault was a knight. It is 1189 AD, you know." Elizabeth was overcome with surprise. "Damn..." She muttered.

The knights approached the pedestal, which rested a small, ancient chest. One of the knights walked closer towards it, and climbed up to a stone not as high as the pedestal, but high enough to give him a look of authority. "My brothers!" He spoke out loudly. He was speaking French. Like most other Frenks, Elizabeth could speak the language, but this dialogue was old. Very old. She could understand him, but it sounded as though it came out of a Shakespeare play. "We left our villages and castles, one hundred strong, to search for the holy relic! After years of loss and misery, Christ has directed us privileged few to the relic! The Holy Grail!" The knight looked at one of his mates. "Sir Archambault! You are perhaps the most honorable, dedicated man of the lord I have ever yet to see! Your skills in battle have saved us many a time! You shall do the honor of carrying the cup back home!"

The knight (apparently Archambault) stepped forward, and bowed. "I am flattered, Sir Jeane, however..." Archambault hesitated. "I believe that the grail must remain in this, the most holy of places. It is true. I did want to find the grail, and bring it back with us. However, my heart has shifted. If the Lord wanted us to take the grail, he wouldn't have decimated us with plague and brigands. It is my sincere belief that we turn back, and only preserve this as a story to tell to our children, so they may tell their children, and they may tell theirs. Maybe one day, Christ will permit one of our offspring to secure the grail." He stood up. "I am sorry, old friend." The knights were speechless, especially the leader, Sir Jeane.

"You betray us, Sir Archambault? You seek to deny us? To make our quest in vain?" Jeane drew his sword. "This holy place can be your grave, Sir Archambault, but we shall be taking the sacred chalice with us!" The other knights drew theirs, too. Archambault followed. "Brothers, please!" Archambault yelled. "We've been through so much! We should count ourselves blessed to have even come this far! Let us not end with bloodshed! Let us head back to the homeland, and relish in feast and song and storytelling!" However, Jeane lunged at Archambault before he could continue. Luckily, Archambault was quicker, and he leaped to the side, sending Jeane into a tumbling fall. Just as Jeane got up, Archambault slammed his shield into him, sending the knight flying backwards about five feet.

While Jeane was attempting to get up, one of the other knights ran up to Archambault. He brought his sword down, but Archambault deflected it with his shield. With the knight dazed, Archambault raised his own sword. The knight didn't have time to react before he drove his sword right through his chest. "Farewell, Sir Renee. May you find peace in heaven," Archambault murmured as he pulled his sword out of the knight's lifeless body. Archambault looked to the remaining eight. "I will kill and die to keep this grail here! Any of you other bastards want to try me?!" In response another knight charged towards him, shield raised. Just as he was about to run into Archambault, he strafed to his left. Before the knight could react, Archambault swung his sword into his unprotected side, cutting through the chainmail. Crimson red sprayed out as the knight fell over, dead. "My brothers, please!" Archambault yelled desperately. "We need no more bloodshed in this holy place! I plead of you! This place is sacred!"

Sir Jeane, holding his side in pain, approached Archambault. "There will be no pleading! You are a traitor!" He looked to the other knights. "Take him!" Three knights moved in on Archambault, waiting the the opportunity to strike. Archambault stood like a statue, eyes focused on his three opponents. While his eyes shifted to the one on the left side, he could see the knight standing to the right attempt to strike him in his peripheral vision. Archambault waited until he was right on him to parry his blow. While the knight was dazed, he swung his sword upwards, into the knight's helmet, right onto his head. He pulled it out as the knight fell to the ground. Just as he removed it from the knight's skull, the one on the left attempted to strafe him. Before Archambault could react, the knight managed to swing his sword into Archambault, making a deep cut into his arm. He grunted in pain as the red seeped out from the damaged chainmail. Before the knight could go in for a second strike, Archambault raised his shield, on the defensive, keeping his attention divided between his remaining two opponents.

"Sir Archambault is a whirlwind! There's a reason he's survived this long! Help your brothers!" Sir Jeane yelled, prompting the remaining three knights to reinforce the other two. Now, he had five to deal with. However, the reinforcements clearly made the knights underestimate the ability of Archambault. One attempted to charge him from the right, however, Archambault, swift as lightning, moved to the side, and drove his sword right into his neck. Just as he fell to the ground, making a horrific choking sound as he died, another charged from the left. This one managed to outdo Archambault, and he swung his sword into the side of his helmet. He yelled in pain as the knights moved in to finish him off. However, this was a feigning move, as the knight who attempted to drive his sword through him was instead greeted by Archambault's quick shield hand. After the shield slammed into the knight, Archambault drove his sword into his midsection, pulling it out as he slouched to the floor.

The remaining three were much more careful. Archambault was bleeding from multiple wounds sustained during his duels, but there he stood, resilient as ever. "Finish him!" Jeane yelled. One of the knights moved to comply, but apparently, he had no idea what the definition of insanity was. After repeated hits on Archambault's shield, he left himself open for a second. Archambault slashed him across his chest, ripping his tunic and mail hauberk. He slashed again, and kicked his lifeless body over. At this point, Archambault took advantage of his opponents' hesitancy. He charged directly into the one on the right, knocking him over. He raised his sword, and drove it right through his back, into his heart. As he pulled it out, the last knight began charging him, yelling a warcry. Even though Elizabeth didn't know the first thing about swordsmanship, this knight was extremely reckless. Open to anything. Archambault casually brought his sword up, and slashed. This strike beheaded. The knights head hit the ground with a "ding" and rolled away, as his lifeless body hit the ground.

Archambault then looked to Jeane. "Brother...what have I done? Eight brothers died by my hand. These were boys. Squires we knighted after we had no more. They were no match for me. And you knew this. Your selfish action led them to their death, and my murdering." He walked towards Jeane. "But...the lord forgiveth, and so will I. Let's just go home, brother." Jeane looked away. "You're right. I have caused a terrible deed this day. Once we get back to the kingdom, my life will be completely devoted to the lord. I'm hurt, however. Will you help me." Archambault moved in. "Of course, brother." Jeane put his arm over Archambault's shoulder, allowing him to take some strain off of him. However, Archambault was ignorant to the fact that Jeane was drawing his dirk. "Now, brother, let us-" Archambault was cut off as Jeane dug the small dagger into his chest. Archambault screamed in anguish, as he fell and brought both of them down.

Jeane stood up, leaving Archambault to lay in a pool of his own blood. He looked back at his dying brother, and then looked at the pedestal with the chest. "Lord, forgive me," Jeane muttered as he approached it. He hesitated for a moment, before moving his hands to open it. He slowly slid the lock off of the chest, and raised the lid. The minute it was open, rays of green light poured out. Jeane covered the eye slits of his helmet to protect himself. Even Elizabeth and Alphonse had to guard their eyes from the bright light. When it cleared it, three individuals were standing in front of Jeane. Elizabeth recognized each and every one of them.

"Hmmm. Congratulations, fair knight. You have discovered one of our beacons." The recognizable raspy voice came from the hooded figure in the middle. The Prophet. Jeane waved his dirk at them. "What are you? Demons from hell? Lord's angels?" The prophet chuckled. "Your silly deities have no power here. Only we do." Jeane stepped back a bit. "Where is the grail?" The prophet chuckled again, while the figure to his right stepped forward. "Listen to him. There is no grail. Only us." His usual shoulder-length blonde hair was cut short, and the armor he was wearing now resembled that of an ancient samurai, but he was recognizable all the same to her. Sakahara. Jeane lunged at Keiji. "Back, demon! I will not fall prey to your trickery!" However, the knight was no match for Sakahara. The handsome god-like warrior yawned and lit up a cigarette (seemingly conjured from nowhere) as he gave the charging knight a kick in his knee. The cracking of his leg bones was very audible. Jeane screamed as he fell to the floor. His helmet rolled off, exposing Jeane's youngish face and long brown hair.

Sakahara then bent over, cigarette still in his mouth, putting his face to the knight's. "This is why I don't like recruiting ancient zealots," he said spitefully as he blew smoke right in the knight's exposed face. Jeane then spit right into Sakahara's face. "Bite me, devil." He muttered. Sakahara wiped the saliva off of his face. He then grabbed Jeane by his chin, and used his other hand to take the cigarette out of his mouth. He then drove the hot, orange tip into Jeane's eye. His screams were deafening. Sakahara then threw the cig aside, as he drew a Tanto from one of his scabbards. He brought the dagger up, and stabbed it through Jeane's shoulder at an angle, towards his heart. The knight fell over, dead, as he pulled it out. He casually sheathed it.

"Sakahara, your anger has cost us yet another recruit. I have a mind to turn you into the minister over this." The Prophet said irritably. Sakahara scowled. "Prophet or not, I will strike you down if you speak to me in such a manner again!" The Prophet casually folded his arms. "Your arrogance is matched only by your foolishness, Sakah-" The third figure, who remained quiet for most of the time, spoke out. "Hey! That one over there is still breathing!" Meimei. Sakahara and the petite medic ran over to his body. "He's near death. This one has been bleeding for too long." Sakahara said, as he looked at Meimei. "Fix him." Meimei shook her head. "It's too late. There's nothing I can do. If we want to preserve this one, we need to get him back to the homeworld. Now."

They both looked towards the Prophet. He chuckled yet again. "Ah. I know about this one. Sir Petir Jeane's deceptive nature would have come in handy, but the heart and ferocity of a lion inside Sir Francois Archambault will serve us well. Prepare him for the journey." With that, the world around Elizabeth seemed to pause. "Enjoy the show, Emily?" Alphonse asked. Elizabeth was flabbergasted. "This is where Archambault came from?" Alphonse grinned. "Yes. Kind of hard to believe, since you were exposed to his modern form." He set to work on opening another tear. "Come. Let's see Mister Bartender's story. Might as well go in-order."

[New Frenco Empire]

Elizabeth Devereaux

June 25th, 1876
Little Bighorn River, Montana Territory, USA
0800 Hours

"Corporal Robert LeGrange, sir. My friends like to call me "Robbie Bartender", though." The young soldier said, casually tipping his broad cavalry hat to a long-haired man with a big, bushy mustache he was riding slowly alongside as the column of mounted soldiers moved up the road. The man (probably a high ranking officer by the look of him) rode his horse towards Robbie. "Robbie Bartender? Where does a nickname like that come from?" He asked casually. "Well, sir, Pa owned a saloon down Kansas way. He died for the Union at Bull Run while I was still a boy. Ever since then, I ran the place as my own. Forgot where the name came from, but it sure stuck.
The officer grinned. "I was at Bull Run. The brave men fighting for the Union left behind some fair boys, ready to give their lives for our grand country it seems. Tell me, why did you leave your saloon behind to join the 7th?" Elizabeth could see Robbie smile (she was walking right in the middle of the two soldiers on horseback. Alphonse, humorously, was riding behind the high-ranking officer on the same horse. Elizabeth refused whenever Alphonse told her she could hop on behind any of the cavalrymen, since they wouldn't be able to know she was there). "Ah, well sir, I figured I owe my Pa a little bit of service before I go back to the quiet bar life."

The officer smiled. "I'd be right proud of ya, if you were my boy. I'm glad to see we have young men with dedication in my regiment." The officer looked to the front. "Well, I best be checkin' in on Major Reno's advance. You take care of yourself, Bartender." Alphonse hopped off the horse as the officer galloped his horse away. He ran up to join Elizabeth. "Well, now that that little heartfelt meeting between our friend Robbie and Colonel Custer is over, let's skip ahead a bit. We'd be here all day if not." He waved her to the side of the line, and opened another tear. They stepped through it, eager to reach the other side.

However, when they came through, a battle was already waging. It was later in the day. the same cavalrymen Robbie was a part of were engaging a group of oddly-dressed warriors. Probably tribals or some other kind of savage. It appeared they were forcing the cavalrymen back to the woods that the pair was standing at. "Yes, Emily, Frenkish history can only go back so far. As I noted before, this is a chapter of American history. Most don't have the slightest idea that this event even happened, aside from the most historically minded. They're called 'Native Americans', or, as it was wrongly coined, 'Indians'. This event and those that surrounded it was actually in my time. I know quite a bit surrounding this battle among others." Elizabeth looked to him. "When are you going to talk about yourself for a change? These backstories are interesting, but right now, I think I'm more interested in you."

Alphonse smiled. "I'm flattered, really, but I'd rather not get into that at this moment. I promise, however, I will humor you in the future. I don't take guests and leave them in the dark." Alphonse surveyed the battlefield a bit, one hand shading his eyes from the sun. He eventually pointed towards two people on horses, watching over the battle. "This is where it all begins. Just...about..." Suddenly, the Native American next to the officer fell off his horse, dead. The blood and brain of the Indian was visible on the side of the officer's face. "...now." Alphonse finished. Due to Elizabeth's training as an officer, she could see the tactical panic on the officer's face. He then galloped about his ranks, calling a retreat. "All those who wish to make their escape, follow me!"

The cavalrymen rode off in a hasty retreat, many fell off their horses as the tribals took potshots with bows and rifles of their own. "So begins the battle of Little Bighorn." Alphonse said, strangely enthusiastic. He set about opening another tear. "Let's get down to basics." He stepped through it casually. Elizabeth soon followed. On the other side, the battle was much more intense. About 200 cavalrymen were crowded around a hill, using dead horses as breastworks. "There's our man!" Alphonse said cheerfully as he pointed to Robbie's familiar face.

The pair casually approached him, as he hid behind the corpse of the horse he was riding earlier, occasionally popping out to fire his carbine. The pair watched as soldier after soldier fell to the charging hordes of tribals. While Elizabeth and Alphonse casually dismissed the dying screams of wounded soldiers as Indians finished them off with tomahawks, Robbie was noticeably traumatized. Meanwhile, Custer, the officer Elizabeth noticed before, was shouting orders while waving around a small revolver. As the numbers began to thin out, Custer took a bullet to his chest, and fell over. "There goes Custer. He may have been arrogant and self-conceded, but he was certainly a brave one indeed." Alphonse chimed in, as the last of soldiers began to get overrun.

Robbie, who was cowering behind his horse, was all that remained. After he realized most of his comrades were dead, he pulled out his pistol, and aimed at his head. "Tales of what Indians did to the prisoners were never good. This was a much better alternative," Alphonse said as Robbie contemplated it. After Elizabeth could see the fear in his eyes, it was apparent he couldn't bring himself to do it. He instead crouched there, shaking pitifully, just as a small group of tribals came across him. Three of them. Armed with tomahawks. They made a deafening cry as they charged the fearful soldier. Robbie noticed them too. He then regained composure. Rather than cower while barbarians hack him to death with axes, he decided it was better to go down fighting. He aimed the revolver at the closest Indian, and fired. As the tribal hit the ground, Robbie cocked the hammer back and fired again, killing another one.

However, by the time the he could cock it again, the third one was on him. He tackled him to the ground. Robbie kicked and squirmed as much as he could, but the Indian had the advantage. He brought up his tomahawk for the final blow. Just before he brought it down, however, one final shot was heard. The tribal then looked down, to see that his chest was bloodied. He slouched over. Robbie pushed his body off of him, and secured his revolver. He looked in front of him, to see his savior. Elizabeth could see that familiar face as well. The man was dressed in a military uniform of some sort, and held the same type of revolver used by Robbie and the other cavalrymen. "Robert LaGrange," the cool, cunning voice sounded. "As of now, you're the sole survivor of Custer's Last Stand. This day will live in infamy, you know." The man stepped forward. There was no denying it. Sakahara. "If you want to live, please, come with me."

Robbie, unsure of what to think of him, hesitantly approached. "Come on, now. These red-skinned savages are still all over the place, drooling over their victory. It's only a matter of time before more of them find you." Robbie gulped. He slowly, but surely, gained the courage to walk quickly towards Sakahara. "There you go. All will become clear shortly." Sakahara then opened a tear of his own. "No idea he could do that," Elizabeth whispered towards Alphonse. "He can, but his ability to traverse reality is quite limited. His tears can only lead to different times and places. Not dimensions. Hence, he prefers to explore the cyber aspect of things these days." Elizabeth shrugged as she watched Sakahara wave Robbie through.

[New Frenco Empire]

Governor-Minister Zhao Takeshi

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0045 Hours

Takeshi cleared his throat as he spoke again. "I would like to thank the men and women of the 1st and 7th regiments, Imperial Army Corps, for their fast reactions in the defense of our country. These brave individuals are ready to kill, bleed, and even die for a land that is not their own, but considers equal to it's own. Courage from our Frenkish friends has brought Japan freedom and prosperity. Remember, my people, if you see a Frenkish soldier who appears to be in need of assistance, you do anything you can to help them. They are fighting for our liberty!" He removed his finger from the "transmit" button on the terminal, and sighed. He was trapped in this safehouse, dozens of yards below the ground. Outside, an unknown enemy was hammering his city to pieces.

He got up from the chair he was sitting in. The safehouse was rather small. It could only fit himself, an aide, two SecuraBots, and six armed guards. It doubled as a control room, allowing transmissions to the outside, but none on the inside. His aide handed him a warm cappuccino. "Thank you." He said, as he bowed. He reflected while he drank. What have I done with my life? Became a high-ranking member of the United People's Communist Party of Asia. Denounced the ideology. Got sent to a prison camp. IIA agents offered me freedom and power if I helped them. Accepted, and fifteen years later, my anti-communist terrorist group watches as the Frenkish flag flies over Tokyo. He sighed again. Lost my beloved Zan in the final days of the war. He scoffed. At least the Frenkish decided to name a ship after her. An Aircraft Carrier at that.

He rubbed at his eyes. Where am I now? Zane's puppet. Just as it should be. He began to approach his seat again, but one of his guards tapped him on the shoulder. "Mister Governor, we have a problem." He muttered, his Auto 9 drawn. He looked at his guard with worry. "Sensors show that an unidentified figure has breached the lower levels. Security on that sector has not responded. We fear the worst. Please get down, Mister Governor." Takeshi bowed as he hid behind a desk with his aide. Meanwhile, the SecuraBots made a wall around him, while the six guards (all armed with Auto 9s or MS41 SMGs) moved to the large metal doorway.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0050 Hours

A protection circle had already been formed around Minister Zhao Takeshi. But it didn't stop the figure that breached inside the building. As all guns were pointed to him, in a flash, all of the guard units exploded/died, or otherwise disarmed and forced to the ground.

Minister Takeshi attempted to run away. But he was violently kicked back inside the room which he was in. The shadowy figure approached him, removing his helmet to reveal blue eyes and blond hair. The man smirked, and spoke to the Minister, fluently:

"So, you half-Chinese hypocrite... Still think that the enemy you fight against are the Asian communists?", the figure raised his eyebrow.

The Minister shook his head in response. He was mostly shaking, sweat could obviously be seen on his face.

"You no longer have to be the puppet of anyone anymore, Takeshi. I now offer you a new name, and a new place within our ranks. Join me, and help me build the mighty Holy Japonian Empire even further!"

The figure - Zero - then extended his hand to the Minister, as a gesture to offer him his only way out.

[New Frenco Empire]

Governor-Minister Zhao Takeshi

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0051 Hours

The strange figure extended his hand towards Takeshi. However, he was much too petrified to even think about anything of the sort. Before he made his decision, a volley of magnetically-accelerated bullets whizzed past the man's head. "Get on the ground, you Zedong-sucking son of a bitch!" The SecuraBots said in their humorous, drill-sergeant like accent. The SecuraBots may have been in Japanese service, but their battle taunts were still in English. Likely due to programmer oversight.

Just as the man redirected his attention to the robots, another squad of bodyguards made their way through the (now destroyed) gateway. "Drop your weapons! Get on the fucking ground!" The female commander of the group screamed. Considering Takeshi witnessed what the man did to the last group of guards, he knew this wouldn't go over well. However, he did focus on the guards instead of him. This gave him an opportunity. He decided to take it.

He quickly crawled away, and ran into a corner, under a desk. He knew his discovery was inevitable, but maybe the guards will get lucky. Maybe the man will leave if he couldn't discover him. He drew his old Type 49 handgun. People's Liberation Army standard issue. 10mm. Served him well during the days of the insurgency. If he was going to go down, it would be an honor to go down with the gun in his hand, at least showing that he wasn't going to be bullied or pushed around.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0052 Hours

Yami sighed in the face of the new arrivals. He then looked at them with his usual smirk.

"You shouldn't have interrupted me."

His left eye turned red, as everything before him stood still.

"Now... your loyalty, forevermore, will lie in the Holy Japonian Empire and the Archipelago Group."

"YES, YOUR MAJESTY!"

He then turned to the Minister, hiding under a desk, and once again extended his hand to him.

"We will give you a glimpse of hope, no matter how dark it is, Minister Takeshi. Will you take it?"

[New Frenco Empire]

Governor-Minister Zhao Takeshi

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0054 Hours

Takeshi acted as the man turned to him again. He aimed his pistol at the man, and fired three times. Although it didn't appear that the rounds impacted, the man fell over, apparently dead. Takeshi then aimed at the guards, who seemed to change sides for no apparent reason whatsoever. They simply stood there, not doing anything for Takeshi or the man they called their "majesty" not thirty seconds ago. Oddly enough, the SecuraBots were still standing, aiming their weapons at the man. He seemingly ignored them. That would have been a fatal mistake for him if Takeshi didn't act so quickly.

Takeshi approached the man, pistol still drawn. After analyzing the corpse for a moment, he lowered his gun, and looked to the SecuraBots. "Round them up for questioning." He said, pointing towards the guards. The bots rolled away as he walked towards his cowering aide. "Seems I handled that well, wouldn't you say, Mister Matsumoto? Call the Security Chief." The aide started to bow in compliance, until Takeshi saw the fear in his face. Matsumoto pointed behind him. Takeshi turned in compliance.

The man (previously thought dead) sat on top of the bodies of the two SecuraBots, screens (which previously showed their artificial face) busted. In his hand, between his ring, middle, and index fingers, were three bullets. The same three Takeshi just fired and supposedly killed him with a mere two minutes before. "How did I know something like that was going to happen?" The man said, more annoyed than angry.

Takeshi stood there, unsure of what to do. "I don't know what the hell you are," he took his pistol, and put the barrel up to his chin. "But I am no traitor to my people! I will die before you force me into your ranks!"

[New Frenco Empire]

A few retcons involving the Greatsword MBT happened since Antilles' last part. The only thing noticeable would be the weapons' systems. Nothing too major. Also, adding service/organization details for more in-depth shit from now on.

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

January 4th, 2293
Kantō Plain, Japan
0610 Hours

"There they are!" Antilles transmitted to the rest of the task force, as the radar-sensors picked up the heat signatures of the opposing tanks. Almost immediately, they came within eyesight of Tokyo's wall, and the fire coming from the opposing tank company. "Dagger 2, begin marking enemy countermeasures. Don't engage 'til we can draw their attention." He transmitted to the platoon of Fritzammers. "Copy, Ironclad 3-1," the platoon commander said, as she further ordered the rest of her platoon to stay behind Antilles' tanks. The enemy armor was within firing distance of the Greatswords' railguns. "Look at those things," Klyne said, obviously using the main gun's camera feed to zoom in towards the enemy. "they're not too big, but they look like something out of Warhammer. What kind of insurgency movement can afford to produce their own armor?"

"Command thinks these guys are some kind of UDAP proxy force. Whoever they are, I doubt they're expecting a company of the finest quality Frenkish armor to drop in." Antilles replied. "Hoorah. We're within range, Lieutenant. Permission to open fire?" Klyne asked. Antilles took a look at the terrain scanner to ensure they still had the element of surprise. "Granted. Ironclad 3, lay into 'em! Dagger 2, rip their clothes off!" Within seconds after he gave the order, the 40mm plasma rounds from the Fritzammers soared through the air, into the tops of the enemy tanks. Shortly after, Antilles' own tank shook a bit as Klyne fired the railgun. The four magnetically-accelerated rounds slammed into the hulls of four unlucky enemy tanks. "Move up! Get your HADES systems ready!" He transmitted. His tank began to move forward, about sixty miles per hour. The agility of a Greatsword was one of it's prized features.

The HUD from Antilles' remote weapon station began dinging and flashing red from alert. He quickly flicked the switch that controlled HADES. Within two seconds, a high-velocity round from one of the opposing side's tanks struck the energy shield, exploding not three feet away from the Greatsword's hull. He then flicked it off. HADES might have been a revolutionary countermeasure, but it burned through power at an alarming rate. Not to mention, firing weapons with the shield up was impossible.

After a few minutes of rolling about, taking potshots at the enemy position, Antilles ordered the final push. The combined firepower of the four tanks and the four armored fighting vehicles quickly demolished the last of the enemy tanks. "Is that all of them?" Ironclad 3-3's commander transmitted. "I think so. Easier than I thought." Dagger 2-4 responded. "That was just a recon force. Only about three tanks." Antilles said. "Now that we've taken them out, the rest of the enemy armor is bound to know that we're up to something. It get's harder from here on out." After a few seconds of silence, the commander of Ironclad 3-4 spoke. "Sounds assuring. Anyways, where to now, Lou?"

Antilles looked through the terrain scanner. "We continue east, along the wall. Take out a few enemy armor platoons and SPG positions, and meet up with the rest of the company at the target objective." He manned his RWS once more. "Let's get moving!"

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0055 Hours

Within a second, the pistol disappeared from Minister Takeshi's hands. It was there, under the man's feet, as he stomped on it, causing it to break into pieces.

"Unwise choice, Minister. Are you sure you do not want to see...

YOUR DAUGHTER, ALIVE AND HEALTHY?"

Yami's words got the Minister standing where he was. He didn't move, as if Yami caught his attention.

"Takeshi Zan. Nineteen years of age when she "died". Cause of "death": Friendly Fire. Worked closely in the insurgency her father commanded during the 10 Years War.

It would be a shame if you'd deny the chance to see your daughter again..."

Yami sighed, putting his right hand on his forehead, slightly narrowing his eyes.

"Unlike the Frenkish, I am offering you the chance to finally break the chains that are holding your people as puppets. I will not force you into our ranks, I am giving a choice: join me, and lead a happy life; or look back to how pointless your life has been till now, and die here - of course, not without leaving your daughter in eternal grief.

Whatever is your choice, I will take care of your daughter and the Japanese people for you. I will restore years of traditions back to your people.

For I, despite my blond hair and blue eyes, am Japanese. I am Sakahara Yami - otherwise known as Zero. And if you ask, yes and no, I am the double agent responsible for a Casus Belli between the Chinese and the Russians, but my allegiance is not with the UDAP, nor the NTSR, nor the NFE. Call me a revolutionary, if you'd like."

Yami, once again, extended his hand to the Minister.

[New Frenco Empire]

Governor-Minister Zhao Takeshi
Imperial Republic of Japan; Executive Office

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0056 Hours

Zan. Could it be? "B...But how? My daughter has been dead for nearly twenty-one years! You're lying!" The man retracted his hand. "Why would I lie about something like that? To you, it's so crazy, no one would ever suggest it. However, you've seen me come back from the dead, brainwash men and women with a blink of my eye, move from place to place with a snap of a finger..."

Takeshi sighed. "I do not trust you. You've caused untold death and destruction to my people and the Frenks who have been graciously killing and dying for us. They may have us in their pocket, but they're fair people. If they don't run us, we'll just go right back into the hands of the communists!" The man sighed, and began pacing. "Have you not listened to a word I've said? I wish to liberate Japan from the decrepit war politics of this world. Put the nation in it's rightful place as a bastion of culture and sovereignty."

He extended his hand once more. "Takeshi, you know it's the only way." He hesitantly pushed his own hand towards him. "I suppose...if any kind of mystic wonder will let me see my daughter again...you would be the one to do it. Damn the Frenks. Damn the country. My beloved didn't deserve such an end. I still don't trust you, but..." He grabbed the man's hand with reluctance. "I guess it is the only way out."

[New Frenco Empire]

Sergeant Mitchell Hampton
(Temporary); Platoon 1; Company A; 3rd Battalion; 7th Defense Regiment; Imperial Army Corps

January 4th, 2293
Tokyo, Japan
0705 Hours

Hampton hopped from place to place, careful to avoid the massive tank's fire. The rest of the platoon were doing the same, with rather mixed results. He saw several of them fall over, dying just before hitting the ground. Hampton attempted to find a way off the street, but most of the doors were boarded up and all the side-streets were blocked off with debris. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. If we don't get off the street soon, we'll all find themselves considerably flatter than before.

Eventually, his hopes were achieved. Between two buildings rested a clean alleyway. He looked behind his shoulder, to see that the tank was considerably slower than before. The thing didn't seem to go any faster than twenty miles an hour, however, it had a hard time even reaching ten on the rough, bombed-put, debris riddled main roads. It was a ways behind him. Unless the thing had some kind of sophisticated targeting system (he doubted it, considering it had trouble zeroing in on him and several others), he could slip away mostly unnoticed.

He ran to his right, straight into the alleyway. Unfortunately, it came to an abrupt end as soon as the other two buildings cut off. Just a concrete wall. At least it got me off the main road. He looked to see three others at the end of the alley, trying to force open doors. He could tell by their uniforms that they were Frenkish. He lowered his weapon, and ran over to his comrades. Even better, these were faces he recognized. "Hampton!? Thank the Emperor you're alive!" Mont said, while busting open a door's window with the butt of his M81. Accompanying him were Lowski and Falen. He was glad Lowski made it this far. After all, he did put his own life on the line to spare hers. At least his investment is still sound. "Listen," Mont continued. "We've managed to outrun that thing, but it's only a matter of time before it rolls our way again. We need to find a place to hole up for a bit." After deciding the door he was trying to breach was too fortified, he sighed. "How far back was the tank when you jumped into the alley."

Hampton shrugged. "I'm not good with measurements, but, maybe...200 yards?" Mont slammed his rifle into a garage door in anger. "FUCK!" He yelled. "I'm not dying in this goddamn alle-" Before he could finish, the garage door raised a little. "Holy shit, someone's still in there!" Falen said worryingly, raising her AR31 at the door. Mont quickly walked up to it, and got on his stomach. He put his rifle on his back, and drew his Auto 9. "I'll go first," he said, as he crawled through. Before he was completely inside, however, he yelled, and his body was seemingly sucked in to the garage. "Mont!" Falen yelled, as she got on her own stomach to pursue him inside. However, the garage suddenly opened about halfway, revealing the interior.

Inside was Mont, dusting off his uniform. He was joined by about six other soldiers donning the armor of the Imperial Army Corps. "What are ya, stupid?" A soldier said to the trio. He spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent, similar to Lowski. He held the door open with one hand, while a PAX-IX rested in the other. "Get in here, before that tank passes!" Hampton and the others didn't need any further coercion. They quickly moved inside, while the soldier dropped the door shut. Mont then approached the soldier with the laser rifle who held the door. He extended his hand towards him. "Sergeant Alexander Mont. Company A. Third Battalion. 7th Regiment," he said, casually as they shook hands. "Yeah," the other responded. "Sergeant Rickard Batory. Ghost Squad. 1st Battalion. 1st Regiment." Mont looked around. "Ghost Squad? That means you do recon for your battalion?"

The other nodded. "That would be my job, sir." Mont nodded. "Interesting. This some kind of Forward Listening Post?" Batory nodded as he approached a terminal sitting on a table off to the side of the room. In the center rested a Scorpion Landrider Armored Utility Vehicle. "It was," the soldier said, as he ripped the hard drive from the lower section of the computer. "But those bastards are getting too close. We were about to disappear when you guys showed up. Can't go anywhere with that landship rolling around, though." Batory then brought his rifle up, and fired a laser beam into the monitor, frying all internal components. "Yep, 'landships' as we call 'em are rolling all through the city. Guys are using 'em for shock and awe. Didn't think they deployed any over this way, but I guess our intel's off. That's what happens when the comms are cut, I guess."

Batory then approached the LAUV, opened the front passenger door, and threw the hard drive in the floorboard. "Guess we just take the back way out. We won't move as fast, but at least the landship won't see us. You guys are free to hitch a ride. We got plenty of room." Mont shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but we really need to rendezvous with our platoon." Batory shrugged. "Suit yourselves. We aren't going anywhere anytime soon, if you change your minds."

Lowski approached Batory. "Thanks, Sergeant. You saved our asses." Batory, dumbstruck, looked at Lowski. "Where you from, soldier?" He asked. "World City. Brooklyn District," she replied immediately. Batory chuckled a bit. "No foolin'? Haha! Never thought I'd meet another local all the way out here in motherfucking Japan!" Lowski laughed a bit too. "Listen, your accent reminded me of home. Gave me a bit of hope." Batory said. "Ever eat at Mikey's?" Lowski shook her head. "Certainly heard about. It was always too crowded." Batory laughed again. "Probably because they make the best damn cherry alfredo in the Empire! Listen, my boyfriend actually runs the place now." Batory said, excitingly. "Once this whole mess is over, bring your entire squad in. Tell the hostess that Rickie sent ya." Hampton's stomach grumbled a bit. Cherry alfredo? Fuck. Now I'm hungry.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero
Holy Japonian Empire; ???

January 4th, 2293
New Imperial Palace Safehouse; Tokyo, Japan
0058 Hours

"Well, I won't gain your full and true allegiance if I didn't hold up my end of the bargain, ain't it?"

"Zero, an Ardavian force is approaching the outskirts of the capital city as we speak. You better hurry.", a voice reported.

"... it seems I myself will not be able to personally go with you as of the moment. But, I have a plan.

As we speak, I've already arranged a Russian convoy with military escorts to reach this region. A Communist Asian force is in pursuit to capture said convoy. Within a matter of an hour, they will reach somewhere on mainland Japan. The ensuing stampede will give you a chance at being airlifted out of the mess. I'll meet you when the time is right.

Yes, I know, my plan sounds risky, but as of the moment, my calculations show it to be the plan with the highest percentage of success.

Now, Minister Takeshi, I want you to follow the directives of this person."

Another young man, who appeared, unknown to Takeshi, quickly bowed to the Minister.

"My name is Yamaha Takada. I'll be in your care-"

"Skip the elegant rituals of yours, Takada. Your mission is to help this man escape from the battle zone, allowing him to be transferred to somewhere I've prearranged. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll do my best.", the young man, noticeably much more Japanese in his physical appearance, with short black hair, little-bit-tanned complexion and an average, not too outstanding face, smiled awkwardly.

"Oh, in case you bump into Frenkish soldiers, if none of them knows Japanese, just use Takada here as your translator. He speaks English very fluently. (Unlike some of the Legionaries.)

I'll be on my way now. I'll leave these brainwashed Frenks and Takada here as your guard. Command them at your leisure, and no matter what you do: be sure to use them and stay alive."

And then, Yami disappeared in an instance.

"Shall we go, Minister-sama?", Takada asked Takeshi politely.

[Gigaverse]

Sakahara Yami/Zero
Holy Japonian Empire; ???

January 6th, 2293
Somewhere outside Tokyo
1100 Hours

Hmph. Killing innocents just to get me - what a cheap trick of theirs.

Yami smirked. But his half-faced smile was not of content - it showed disgust. Whoever did what they had done were guilty enough for Zero to charge against.

And finally, at some point, he stopped. He finally noticed enemy soldiers; most likely Ardavian. From a hill, his face looked down upon them. He wouldn't hold his contempt back for such underhanded dogs as them.

"Alright, you dirty bastards. IF YOU WANT TO CHALLENGE ZERO HIMSELF, COME AND FACE ME.", he announced to the enemy soldiers, as he jumped down from the hill.

[New Frenco Empire]

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

????
????
????

"So, whose next?" Alphonse asked gleefully. "Oh. Right. Taku. I wasn't even around for World War One. I hear two was even worse. Nothing on three, though." The pair was walking through a temple-like area of sorts. This collection of oddly shaped, glow-tipped buildings were foreign to Elizabeth, but fascinating nonetheless. All around them, tears were opening and closing autonomously. Elizabeth was told this was one of the many places where it "all came together", whatever that meant. She didn't care for the shows of magic and mysticism, but she was eager to see the other backstories. Archambault and Bartender's were quite interesting.

Alphonse then approached another tear. "Ah yes, here it is. Sorry we had to cut through here. Taku is still in the same reality as the others, but since his period was after mine, I must come through here to...verify, so to speak...ever so often." Elizabeth looked at him. "You've still never told me about your story, Al." Alphonse tutted. "Emily, Emily, Emily...soon." He brushed his hands over the tear. "Alright, Taku's area is particularly dangerous. It can't harm me, but any direct strikes against you will certainly injure you. They still can't see you, but since, like I said, this takes place after my own time, my control is a bit more limited. I haven't figured out why, but I am a scientist. I'm close to making a breakthrough. Anyways, watch yourself. Stay behind me." The tear glowed a brighter color of violet. "Ladies first."

Elizabeth sighed. "What is this, the 21st century? We've dropped the petty tradition of giving those born with vaginas or effeminate traits special treatment and protecting them as if they were fragile little dolls." Alphonse shrugged. "Force of habit. Such traditional values were the norm in my day. I didn't particularly agree with many of them, but if you can't beat them..." He waved her forward. "Still. I insist. You first." Elizabeth shrugged, and stepped up to the tear. Just as she was about to walk through, however, a bright blue beam of light zapped the portal from the sky. The tear slammed shut. Elizabeth looked up to the source of the laser. She saw several flying little gold robots. Their bodies seemed to be three large limbs surrounding a glowing eye-like device. Under their bodies sat their laser weapon. "Uh...Al..." Elizabeth said, worryingly. Alphonse showed a bit of legitimate concern on his face. "Guardians. Seems they don't like the fact that I've been showing someone of your position so much." He looked to Elizabeth. "Stay calm. They're a mere nuisance. Leftovers from a race that has transcended beyond us. Sent to protect what they know little of."

Alphonse then, unexpectedly, produced an ornate pistol (an old, shortened Colt M1911 by the look of it) from within his sleeve. "Take this. It was given to me by a friend a long time ago. I have no use for it. However, you do. Deal with them while I open another tear." Elizabeth nodded, and grabbed the gun. She immediately took aim at the nearest guardian, and fired. She was expecting a standard round to come out of the barrel, but instead, a long, bright orange-yellow streak poured out at a speed even faster than the most advanced rail or coilguns back home. "A few modifications I made to it over the years. The only thing capable of hurting them." Alphonse said, cheerfully, as his hands danced around a growing purple window. Elizabeth aimed at another one approaching from her left side, and made quick work of it with another fiery stream. However, an intense pain shot up her arm as the laser weapon from one of the bots to the right struck her. After a quick, painful yelp, she quickly aimed the pistol, and turned it into shiny bits of scrap. "We'll need to take a look at that when we have the chance. Never saw what happened to any normals who took a guardian's weapon to their flesh!" Alphonse said, still focused on the tear. Elizabeth frowned as she shot another one out of the sky. "Just shut up and finish the portal!"

As she finished off another group, more approached down the center. A lot more. "You almost done? I can't hold out for much longer!" Alphonse ignored the question, still moving his hands about. "That...should...just...about...do it! Run through, Emily!" She squeezed off another shot before backpedaling into the portal. When she passed through, she fell backwards, into a puddle of mud. With the pain in her back and arm, and the sensation of being covered in filth, she began to sigh deeply. Why did I sign up for this? "You didn't," the familiar voice rung. "I did lure you in here. My bad. But hey, at least you're enjoying yourself, right?" Elizabeth sat up, and gave her back a loud pop. "Ah!" She yelped as her vertebrae moved about inside her. She quickly stood up, wiping as much mud off of her as she could. "Where are we know?" She asked Alphonse in annoyance. Alphonse studied the area. "Iwo Jima. 1945. Closing days of World War Two. You might like this one indeed."

[New Frenco Empire]

Chairman Joseph Hightower
Founder and Leader of the New Frenco Empire; Chairman of the Party; Imperial Datacenter

January 4th 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan; Manifesting datacores of Autarch Raven
1101 hours

Just in time. Always the predictable one when it comes to this. Just as Zero leaped through the air, in front of Raven and his soldiers, Hightower set about hijacking Raven's programming once again. After a short few seconds, he held the body and all of it's functions. "Stay calm," he whispered to Raven's conscience as he stepped towards Zero. "Greetings, Zero...or should I say Keiji? You seem to have become the man of the hour." He said. Although he was using Raven's voice, the speech patterns were unlike Raven's.

Hightower fiddled around with Raven's bolt pistol as he awaited his response.

[Ardavia]

January 4th 2293
Outside Nagoya, Japan
1101 hours

Raven

With a mental sigh, Raven retreated deeper into his body, following the uplink he still kept open with the Marksmen. On the squad's helmet HUD's, a message of "Prepare all weapons to fire at him on my command" appeared, and with nearly unnoticeable motions, they prepared, shifting the grips on their bolters just slightly. Raven himself, in turn, finally reached the Marksman tanks, having the two SPG's roll over a hill behind them, guns seemingly lowered for transport.

On the instant Zero made the slightest move, two 155mm shells, fire from the twin-linked Heavy Bolters on the Terminators and a sustained stream of fire from 24 Bolters would rain over him. Having seen the amount of punishment Zero had taken before, Raven was fully aware that it would likely not be enough, but nothing on the planet could take that amount of firepower without being at least staggered.

And in that amount of time before Zero regained his mental faculties and began an attack, he could hopefully defuse the situation before it lead to further bloodshed. The Empire's goals would not be progressed by killing this one right now. He still had a little ace up his sleeve, even if it likely could cost the entire platoon their lives, if Zero decided to attack though.