Chapter 1: Whole New World

Another day, another dollar. That's what everyone says. I guess that's true. By no means does being in the militia pay well, but I got paid. Usually, this was to just look out of a guard tower, go on a patrol on the week ends, or (as per usual) wear your equipment everywhere and just be ready for a fight. It was boring work usually, but not as bad as watching paint dry. And those were the good days. Bad days included raids from traveling bandits, where there was always the risk of someone dying, but there was always something getting blown up or someone getting hurt, so what's one more insident.

Today started no different than any other Sunday. Got up, dressed quickly, clean my weapons, go out to the base and CO's office to get my assignment. Which was to stand guard at the gate entrance. I've been standing there since. The sun was rising, a beautiful painting full of yellow, pink, and purple. It was a nice sight to look at, though for someone who hadn't had their morning coffee yet it was oddly sleep provocative. My eyes fluttered in weariness, and I swayed back and forth, grasping my machine guns' barrel, whose stock was digging into the ground for balance. It was for these reasons that while I kept watching the watery horizon, I mistook the strange land that appeared as a mirage. This strange new "mirage" connected on the far side of the city shore to the left, and left a continuous open lake that led from New York Harbor to the right. I was so tired, that I failed to see that it was real for several minutes, until my burdened mind finally came to a realization.

"HOLY SHIT!" I bolted from my position, charging for the CO's office, militia members looking at me running in armor and a massive machine gun. I crashed through his door, just to find that the Captain was in the middle of a meeting with actual Army officers. I pop a quick salute, and quickly say, "Sir! A new land mass just showed up outta nowhere! You need to see this!"

Captain Averill looked up at me, along with irritated looking officers, "You aren't high, are you?" one of them asks.

"No sir! Seriously, come look at this!" I grab Captain Averill, pull him out of his seat behind his desk, and dragged him with one arm out of the building to look out at the new land. I'm holding the small man by his collar, holding him up to look at the healthy forested land.

"No shit." he whispered in awe.

Two months later

"We now know the results of the Land Formation that occurred two months ago. It would appear that the Earth has doubled in size. The new dry land that we now find ourselves with covers a significant amount of what was the Atlantic and Pacific, which has grown significantly. This land is roughly the size of Eurasia, and preliminary explorations have revealed that it is inhabited by several intelligent species. I shut off the TV with mild distaste. The same story had been playing on repeat for the past few days, and nothing else was playing. Even kids show channels wouldn't stop with the broadcasting.

I get it, Hawaii's buried under another continent, and the other thing is blocking trade. Can we talk about something else please?

I sighed, standing up off the old couch I was in. It, like many of the things I had, had been scavenged off the streets, or bought at low prices by people who were just looking to get rid of them. I looked at the still sleeping form of Zlat underneath a heavy comforter in the reclined position of the best thing we collectively owned. Well, someone's got to wake him up for school.

I quietly padded over, not making a sound, and tore off his blanket quickly, revealing the curled up form of an anthropomorphic red fox. He muttered, "Is it really that early?"

I grunted, "I wouldn't've woken ya otherwise. Come on, we need to git goin' bro." I hooked my foot around the lever that controlled the recliner, and Zlat was sitting up, beginning to open his foggy white eyes. With the same foot, I popped up the cane that my blind brother needed to walk around without tripping on something.

"How much time do we have?" he asked, standing up and grasping around for the cane.

I took his furred hand in mine to hold it still, and plopped the handle into his grip, "Enough so we can eat somethin' and have some coffee." I went over to our "kitchen" that consisted of a gas stove, a microwave that I still needed to look at fixing, cupboards, and a sink that had poor water pressure. On the table that was about a yard away from the cupboards, was the breakfast I'd thrown together while Zlat had slept.

"Do I smell... *sniff* *sniff* oatmeal, pancakes, and milk?" he asks in our habitual game. Whenever one of us made a meal, the other had to try and smell out what it was. Being a human, it was no surprise that I always lost to Zlat's superior nose. Plus, he wasn't all that good a cook. Meaning everything he tried making except cereal ended up getting burnt.

"You got it. Be ready tah be amazed!" I say overly dramatically. Zlat laughs his nasal laugh, and I see them pearly whites of his. We sat down, ate the fairly well prepared food, and then relaxed for a bit of coffee.

"I take it you've already looked at the news."

"Yep. Nothin' new. Still ravin' 'bout the new land." Even to me, we sounded extremely laid back.

"Your coffee, taking it black I see?" Zlat jokes. It was his favorite, so he used it every chance he got, which was pretty often. I still gave a snort and a smile.

"And I see yer having some coffee with yer sugar an' cream." Was my amused sounding retort.

"I can't help that the coffee is too strong."

We fall silent as we drink some more of our coffee. "So you thinking about joining that brain-a-thon thing?" I ask.

"Yep. No doubt in my mind that I could win. You thinking about asking your CO about going out to be one of those adventurers that're being sent out?"

"Hell no. I know you ain't exactly helpless, but I still aim to make yer livin' easier. Brothers are brothers, no matter where dey come from. An' brothers don't split." I say this with a final poking of a finger to the table to emphasize my words. I stopped, realizing the stupidity of using my hands to talk.

"You did it again, didn't you?" Zlat asked me laughing behind a paw.

"Yeah, dammit. I started using my hands to talk again." I downed the last of my coffee, dumped it in the sink, and headed off to our "Bedroom". Really, it was a guest room for whenever someone came over (meaning never). There were two beds, each against opposite walls. These were pretty old beds, but I'd managed to get my hands on some bedding that didn't look ugly. The only thing either of us used in this room was the shallow, doorless closet and cheap wardrobe for the clothes we had in them. I fished out a pair of jeans, fresh socks, and t-shirt for Zlat, laying against the farthest bed. For me, I had to wear different clothing.

Being in the militia doesn't mean that you spend only a few days as a guard, or be weekend warrior. It meant that you were always in combat fatigues, and ready for a fight no matter what you were doing or where you were going. I wore two layers of clothing, my underwear and tank-top was the first. The next part of suiting up was needlessly complicated. In the militia, you weren't issued combat armor or helmets, but you could still wear some if you got your hands on them. And I actually had a set. It was practically an heirloom if the price that it would normally cost was anything to go off of. The only way I had managed to get it, was by fending off some raiders that were lucky enough to get into the city. I won out a four hour long gunfight, getting shot, and saved a few civilians that I hadn't noticed. There was only one catch to this reward, I stopped the raiders in one of the richest neighborhoods there was in New New York City. If this happened in a poor block like mine, the most I would've gotten would be a small bonus on payday and possibly a medal.

So I'd gotten the armor. It was styled to fit into the general image of a Militiaman, but it was also clearly unique. The torso part covered everything from my waistline to my shoulders, of which went far enough down to cover most of my upper arm. It fit like spandex, tight against my body. The armor itself was a fright of it's own. It looked very much like it had was plate armor which bulged over my biceps, but this was even better. Using technology developed in 2025, right before hell opened up, my armor was manufactured using one of the most protective materials ever conceived, which I hadn't even been graced to know the name of. Everyone nicknamed it "Liquid Diamond". These plates of the armor had no breaks, which normally would've been bad for the wearer's mobility. However, this deceptively stiff looking material could actually bend with the body of the wearer. But if a bullet, or some other object moving faster than a angry punch, struck the armor, it would be like it had hit a plate of metal 15 inches thick. Rumors said that even a 37 millimeter cannon couldn't penetrate it when they tested it, not that I'd be stupid enough to test that large of a caliber anyways. The next best part was, it was self regenerative, meaning that if something managed to put a dent in it, or a hole, then it would seal right back up like nothing happened. Now, unlike kevlar, it could actually stop the stabbing or slashing of a knife. Strangely enough, punches still performed their purposes. Blunt force worked on this kind of armor. So when I got shot by bullets, I'd get a bruise or cracked rib at worst.

Next, I slipped the gloved sleeves on. These reminded me more of muscles than armor, excluding the steel segmented fingers. These gloves were designed especially for punching, and a little milder protection. It'd still turn away a lot of large calibers, but certainly not a cannon. What came next were my boots, which were a pain in the ass to get on. Firstly, these boots had three layers. The softer cloth on the inside, then the kevlar, and lastly, the hardened leather. Attached to the tongue of the boot, was basically a set of shin guards made from stainless steel. The boot, needless to say, had a steel toe, plus an interesting addition. The sole of my boots were made of many layers too. The very bottom of the shoe was made of rubber that refused to creak and squeak. Next, was the Liquid Diamond, then a thin plate of steel, a layer of padding, and lastly the removable sole. Protective against land mines, and comfortable to wear. I made sure to put the shin guards underneath my pant legs though, they looked stupid if I wore them on the outside.

I had only four more articles of clothes to put on, and then I'd be set. The first, was the fatigue pants, then the shirt, and the armored duster coat. They all shared the olive drab green, so I could still be easily identified, and it also had a utility belt on it. Attached the belt was a gas mask, and an empty pistol holster, and several attachments to hold grenades or ammunition. Nothing else yet. The coat itself was made of ballistic fibers which were meant to stop or at least slow down a bullet. Plus it was raining today, and it was for the most part water proof. The last article of clothing I put on, was my helmet.

The armor set I'd been rewarded with didn't come with anything for my head, so I'd had to find something else to protect me. This was an old fashioned helmet that followed the same design that the US military used in WW2. The outer shell was made with a very high grade of steel, stronger than what they got in WW2, while the liner was made of compounded kevlar and fiberglass. I strapped it onto my head, and I went out into the living room, passing Zlat, who was going to get out of his pajamas into some actual clothes. "Gotta pile for ya on the bed to the right." I say.

"Thanks. T-shirt and jeans?"

"T-shirt 'n jeans." In the living room hanged all my arms. Like any good soldier nowadays, I had three firearms, and one massive knife as a reserve. I held an affinity for large arms, so it would make sense for me to carry a machine gun. More specifically, the DB-231 machine gun. This had been assigned to me day on one with the militia, and I'd never been disappointed by the 200 round, belt fed machine gun. My secondary on base was a grenade launcher or a bazooka that would attach to my pack, but for the urban areas those weapons were too destructive. So instead, I strapped an M16 with a laser pointer to the side of my pack. My side arm was a Desert Eagle, a monster pistol that fired .50 caliber bullets. Bullets that were large enough to blow apart a head.

I jumped a little as a hand was placed on my shoulder, which I really shouldn't have done since I knew who it was. Zlat was looking towards me with a bemused smile, "You really think you need all of this?"

"It's procedure, I ain't suppose-ta break it."

He shrugs, removing his hand, "As you wish."

I go back to the task at hand, which involves attaching bags to carry ammunition in. I could only carry two addition magazines of my machine guns ammo, but 10 more 30 round mags for the M16. My Desert Eagle got itself only one other clip. Lastly, I attached my brass knuckled Ka-Bar knife. I was armed to the teeth, and ready. I hoisted my bag onto my shoulders, and I found that Zlat was waiting for me.

"Ready?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Ready." We left the apartment building, passing many other doors that belonged to people we didn't know much about, as they were about as introverted as I was. Zlat had his hand on my shoulder, using me as a guide. We went down the stairs with practiced ease now that Zlat had finally counted how many steps it took to get there. We finally reached the bottom of the stairs, which was a tiny foyer. Outside, as per usual, it was raining heavily. Already, Zlat had opened up his umbrella, holding it over both of us.

We walked to the bus stop, and waited patiently with all the other people who were waiting for it, although probably for work rather than school. The bus showed up on the dot, and after I paid our fare, we were on our way. We got dropped off one block away from school, which we walked through in the downpour. People stared at the sight of a blind man and his soldier brother walking down the street.

When we got to the school, there was practically no one in the massive entrance. I figured that we were early, but my watch and the clock on the wall told me otherwise. We were on time. I looked to the lady that sat behind the desk, the lady that had let us in.

"Hey, where are all the kids?" She simply answers by pointing to the sign taped to the edge of her desk. All students report to the gymnasium. I thanked her half-heartidly, mostly due to her emotionless reply. We walked around the whole school, and arrived with a few other students, who had apparently been at their lockers. Inside the gym, we saw something new. The bleachers had all been pulled out, chairs placed to face towards a makeshift stage that was on the other side. And it was packed in here. Every student must be here.

We found a pair of seats in the back of the room to sit in, and waited with our packs on the ground in front of us, my machine gun now hooked onto it. 15 minutes passed, and our Superintendent walked his way up onto the stage. He was a massive man with grey skin, and no hair. While his skin and square, emotionless face scared nearly everyone, he was actually a good man. He stuck to a rigid moral code, and never violated it. I had honest respect for the man.

He cleared his throat as he spoke into the microphone, "Dear students, late last night, our scouts on the new land have made a wonderful discovery. We have found the existence of two countries, known as Equestria and The Crystal Empire! Equestria is led by two princesses, the Crystal Empire is led by a princess and a prince, both are currently at a stage of technology that they could never defend themselves against a foreign invasion. Amazingly, our three governments have quickly created an alliance, and have informed every nation in the world that the land has already been claimed by a host of other nations we have yet to meet, as well as in the Pacific continent. Unfortunately, several countries have declared war on Equestria, mostly for their resources that no one is sure about them actually having. These countries include France, Germany, Austria, Brazil, Poland, Ukraine, Serbia, The Federation of Trade, Russia, and South Africa. While none of them have formed an alliance, this will prove to be one very bloody war, a free-for-all. We have mobilized our military to invade the attacking countries, and form a line of defense on their eastern border. You might be asking why you're hearing this from your Superintendent, and not from the news. The reason in simple. We have also agreed to send out our militia's to serve as a protective guard, and to train the local populace to fight. We aren't sending out every one of our militia's, nor are we sending out every member of the ones we do send. However, every student here, who is in the local militia has been called to serve. Please, come up to the stage to be recognized when your name is called."

I was stunned. I was actually being called to go off, and protect a people that I didn't even know what they looked like. I wonder what would happen to my brother. He was blind, and relied on me for a great many things. How would he handle himself? I was startled out of my thoughts at the sound of my name, "Wolfgang Piatek." I stood up, shouldering my pack as I stood, and walked up to the impromptu stage. Right in front of it were the other militia members that were standing at attention, their rifle butts against the gym floor. I came up to the stage, rifle in hand, and approached the the grey man. He holds out a hand, looking for a shake. I shoulder my rifle, switch it to my left shoulder, and grasp his hand in a tight grip for a firm handshake. He gives me a short blessing, and dismisses me to stand at attention with the other militia soldiers.

Later, at home

The day had been miserable for me, even if we'd more or less been given the day off, every class been regaled to old movies from the century before, all I could think of was how Zlat would live without me helping him. When the final period ended, I had reserved that I would get my CO to let my brother come with me, even if I had to beg him on my knees.

Dinner that night was a prepared meal of Salisbury Steak and Mac ' Cheese. I was quiet, as per usual, but somehow Zlat could tell something wasn't right, "You're worried about me, aren't you?"

I choked on piece of steak, coughing it back out onto my plate, "Fuckin' 'ell man! How do ya always know?"

"You always smell different when you're worried."

My mind, as used to his responses as it was, took a second to remember that his nose was a lot stronger than mine, "I don't smell to pry, but you know how it is. It's hard to miss a smell when it's wafting through the air. But really, I'll be fine. I'm sure one or more of the neighbors would be willing to lend a helping hand to a blind man."

I chuckled a little, "We ain't men yet, remember? We ain't 18. But I get yer point. It still don't feel right though, leavin' ya behind." I paused, and asked him, "What would you think about coming with me? I mean, I still 'ave tuh ask my CO about it, and even then it's a long shot that he'll say yes. But in the case he does, would you want to go?"

He smiles, "Walking on the new land does sound pretty cool. Why not?"

That night, we slept fairly well, even though I was still nervous as all hell that he might not be able to come

Author's Note

Edited 7/6/17