Author's Note

Reuploaded after bulk-rewrite of the pony-parts!

Sorry.

Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

Sunset expected not to wake up. She expected that she’d succumb to her wounds, and die, maybe peacefully. Maybe she wouldn’t have to fight a war with the savages that sought to destroy the way of life that she had never experienced—or wanted to fight for.

Her memory was scarce of what her life was before she was fourteen except for the rigorous training, being a shithead with the few friends she had. Sunset was told it was amnesia from being hit with a crowbar by another “student.” Knowing herself, she probably deserved it. Sunset tormented and downright tortured the other child soldiers of the Harmony-One Project. She made a living hell for the Instructors—slave-masters, a nickname she aptly gave to the Drill Instructors of HOP.

Thinking about her ‘childhood’ in HOP brought a splitting headache and mangled feelings of nostalgia and pride, intermittent with regret and anger that she couldn’t place, as if they were hidden in a massive vault buried under a field of concrete, point-defense guns and chains.

Speaking of… Shouldn’t I be… not capable of pain? Self-thought? Or any thought for that matter…? Sunset pondered. This left her with a few conclusions; she was a vegetable, she was in a coma, or worse… She didn’t die. A seething pain decided to suddenly embed itself within, and Sunset found herself annoyed.

I suppose self-awareness has its cons, perhaps…? Or I’m waking up. Either way, I don’t like this… She pondered. As these feelings became prominent, Sunset felt what she thought to be consciousness coming to her.

Sunset’s eyes cracked open, and she felt the need to cough. She was in a medical tunic and a pair of sandals, with a cool breeze crossing her face. Sitting beside her, in a stool, was an Eliksni Vandal—a middle-class of their hierarchy, and a lower-ranking of soldier. A grunt, if there ever was one, with a stature not much taller than six feet, with all four arms, though. The almost insectoid Eliksni relied on a system of ranking to determine how large they grew to be, and this continued after the war between them and the Vanguard Colonial Federation. Lower-ranking members of the Marine Corps, Army, Navy, whatever, would receive less of the “ether” as it was called, that allowed for their bodies to continue to grow. Most common were the six-to-seven-foot Vandals and seven-to-ten-foot-tall Captains. Vandals made up a minority of the enlisted ranks as skillful marksmen and CQB specialists, whilst Captains dominated the frontlines as Commanding Officers, engineers and Heavy-Weapons specialists.

Sunset recognized the Eliksni immediately from his armour and the weapon that sat between his legs and had all four arms resting on. This was Staff-Sergeant Ferleks, her once platoon commander, now second-in-command… that is, if she survived long enough to stay in service. As far as Sunset knew, and was concerned, she was dying, and command would stay with Ferleks. Sunset coughed and tried to sit up.

“Morning, ‘Licks…” She croaked out, coughing and sputtering. Ferleks noticed and helped her into an upright position.

“For a few moments, I thought you were dead.” Ferleks responded. His voice was gravely, and it reminded her of Scream from the Scary Movie series, an ancient creation spared from the massive loss of cultural artifacts that came from going through a vicious Worm-hole.

“As did I… Am I? … Dead?” She reiterated. This roused a quiet chuckle from Ferleks.

“No, Sunset… You’re dying, not dead.” He replied. Sunset gave a solemn nod and stretched.

“Damn… What the hell even happened? I feel like my face is on fire, and… Why are you giving me that look?” Sunset stopped mid-sentence to note that Ferleks was giving her a grim smirk.

“I mean, it’s not far from the truth. Need a mirror?” ‘Licks asked. Sunset nodded, and was handed his helmet, which bore a dome-stylized EVA Visor, akin to the old helmets used by early twenty-first century astronauts used, albeit more… metal, and sturdy, with black foam padding lining the inside of the helmet. She caught it with two hands—and found that her stub had been replaced by a shiny metal forearm with a lithe, black metal chassis. Likely, the rest of her arm had been replaced too. She clenched her robotic hand and unclenched, placing the helmet beside her for a moment. Crude graffiti had been stenciled into her arm with spray-paint or Crewman’s paint—the stuff they used to put markings on the titanium plates of hull on the outside of ships, that required military-grade explosives to chip. She smirked for a moment, before taking the helmet into her arms, looking at the damage done by the hostile… alien… thing.

A good two-thirds of Sunset’s face was burned up, thankfully most of her hair—somehow—remained unburnt, shaved into a crew-cut. The lower right half of her face, jaw and neck were deformed with scarred flesh that signaled the close of the healing process from a seriously bad burn wound. It centered around the cheek, somehow not leaving her looking like a DC villain.

The burns were deep, but left her with a closed mouth look, rather than a charred corpse. At the curve of her cheekbone, the burn began to almost… branch out, in long, narrow lines that split off individually in a sort of outward-splatter. The scarring went down and followed her jawline, covering the underside in more of the serious burns, reaching down to her neck, going down further beyond her eyesight. A frown encompassed her features, and she unbuttoned the first few buttons of her top, and found a disturbing sight awaiting.

The gorget that once was placed upon her chest as an ornamental item had burned through her shirt and stamped its texture into her skin, most prominent was the image of two bulls clashing horns.

“Someone left me in the microwave for too long…” She muttered, watching with distaste as she noted that half of her lip had become thick, scarred tissue.

“More like they tossed you face-first into a frying pan for a few hours… I’m surprised you don’t look like Two-Face.” ‘Licks chimed in. Sunset snickered and threw his bucket to him. Another cultural artifact that Ferleks and her had shared as an experience.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Just glad I don’t have to eat out of a straw…” Sunset grunted. She took a moment to look around the room before speaking again. Tarp made up most of the structure—whether that be the floors, slanted roof, or the walls. Hazy-white contamination/clean-room tarp covered and made up the temporary medical tent—she assumed it was that, by the many other hospital beds with occupants—with a few tables and cabinets against the walls. Off to the right, was a hallway with a flap-door that likely would lead out of the tent.

“Where’s everybody else… did they make it?” Sunset hesitantly asked. The question had lurked at the back of her mind, unwanted. ‘Licks gave her a look of reassurance.

“Yeah… The platoon’s been split in half, but thankfully they all made it. Private Skerrhes lost a good chunk of his face, but he’ll make it. With all the Mods he’d signed up for, you’d think he wanted this. Wouldn’t surprise me.” ‘Licks chuckled and leaned back, wiping his face with a claw.

“Corporal Aski decided that he’s finished after losing a good part of his leg, he’s being replaced by one ‘Lancer Corporal Morton Stein.’ A kraut from the reserves, bilingual. He’ll make a good addition and replacement for Aski… Old bastard was losing his touch, anyway...” ‘Licks finished up. Sunset nodded in reply, and slowly shifted her body, grunting. She pulled her legs over the side and took a minute to rest, noting that the entirety of her left leg had been replaced, with a similar appearance to her prosthetic arm, without the graffiti, just the serial numbers.

“Sarge—” ‘Licks began, quickly getting to his feet. Sunset held her synthetic hand up.

“I’ll be fine, ‘Licks… They got me on meds?” Sunset asked, using a nearby IV stand as a support. ‘Licks grumbled and stood up, walking over to follow Sunset.

“Some basic steroid-type drugs to get your strength back up. That’s all I was told.” ‘Licks followed, offering his rifle as a better support, to which she declined.

As she opened the flap to her tent, the climate of Eiter-VI made itself apparent. The air burned her lungs, and her feet were just about melting from the heat of the sand.

“Agh! Fuck’s sake—!” She bounced back into the tent with a vigour she didn’t have since she was young. Ferleks snickered and followed her back inside.

“You suck.” Sunset grumbled at Ferleks. He offered her a claw up, to which she accepted.

“I’m not going anywhere, so might as well go over a sitrep. Enlighten me.” Sunset said as she lowered herself onto her hospital bed, sitting upright.

“To put it simply? We’re stranded. No word from HIGHCOM, and our signals have been spotty since the attack. We’ve been flooding every emergency channel with an S-O-S, warning of a new threat. Not even automated responses. Just… silence. It’s making the rest of the army troops uneasy, not that I blame them. Jarheads seemed unphased, unsurprisingly.” Ferleks reported. “Speaking of, did you catch a sight at the bastards who took down the Thames?” He then asked. Sunset took a moment to think before she replied.

“Yeah… Tall motherfuckers. Leathery skin, black mostly. Their leader had gray skin, taller than the rest, wore armour made of bone around his head and chest. Called himself ‘Orruth, the Conqueror of Worlds and Destroyer of Civilizations.’ What an egotistical prick…” She answered, muttering her last words.

Ferleks merely nodded in reply, then gave Sunset his best wishes and left the tent to allow her rest.

The next few weeks were spent by Sunset gathering intelligence and getting back her strength. Getting used to the new prostheses, relearning how to use her body. By the time she was ready to get back to the fight, barely a week had passed. She stepped out of the medical tent in the Battle Dress Uniform of the VCA—a black bodysuit, with similar properties of a wetsuit, combined with bits of metal and small hooks and holes for the ‘Kavacha’ Mk. VI Combat Armour that she wore.

The survivors of the crash had assembled a small camp of tents and shacks made of scrap in long lines, with wood and steel plates lining the ground as a form of hardened surface to step on, with a plethora of trenches lining the outskirts, the shacks and tents nearby lined with sandbags and metal plates scavenged from the Thames crash site. The Thames had crashed a kilometer to the East, and due to some seismic activity and the sheer speed of the Thames, the ground around it had caved, leaving the ship semi-buried in sand a dozen kilometers below surface, overlooked by a massive rocky cliff, which appeared to be a mere sand dune from the perspective of the makeshift town of tents and shacks made by the survivors.

To the North, was a mass grave where they had buried whatever dead they could recover, marked by a metal-and-stone fence, with headstones made of rifles and helmets. Whenever personal effects were recovered, they were pinned to the helmet, or tucked inside the helmet. Looking South, there was a massive concrete wall with barbed-wire fencing atop, surrounded by the ruins of small refugee camps and towns, with concrete foundations, separated from their camp by a massive river and a crumbling bridge. There was only desert and scattered natural formations of rock to the West. As Sunset was finishing up with her summary of the landscape, the sounds of laughter and music filled her ears.

A gaggle of engineers, dressed in Kavacha Plate-Armour, with lightly-coloured wraps of bedsheets forming cloaks around their shoulders and bodies were passing around a bottle of rum and singing a cadence, fooling about, roughing each other up and cackling like hyenas. Sunset slowly walked over, admiring the sight of the shacks and tents.

“There are no airborne rangers in the navy!” One of them sang out. “In the navy!” The rest of them roared in response. The engineers passed the rum along, taking a swig before giving it to the person to their right.

“They just sail around in boats, doing god knows what with goats!” The engies noticed her one by one, their singing and laughter dying down slowly, until the only soldier—coincidentally also the one with the rum bottle—singing was the one in front of Sunset, looking away from her. He took a swig from the rum and went to pass it to the next person over, only to find them staring at him, hiding a smirk.

“Oy, the fock are yew lookin’ at, Stanley?” He jokingly yelled to his colleague.

“I think they’re looking at me, corporal MacDheorsa.” Sunset said to the engineer, placing her hands on his shoulders, whispering in his ear.

“Oh… hello, Goony… Could ah interest yew in some rum?” He offered Sunset the bottle, to which she accepted, staring at the bottle for a few moments before taking a long swig and tossing it to the engineer to MacDheorsa’s right. The others in the Corporal’s group began laughing and singing once more. Sunset only went back to walking toward the large half-cylinder hut made of corrugated sheet metal, wood and brick, with a large scrap metal sign hanging from the window, with three spray-painted bullets over a teal fantasy-style breastplate, marking it as the Armoury.

She pushed open the door to be blasted with the smell of weapons and damaged electronics. A few civilians dressed in torn rags of what were once crewman uniforms were sitting along tables lined with broken equipment. Damaged small arms, pieces of armour that were half-melted or shredded, pieces of tech reduced to scraps, and all in between. A few marines were stocking shelves with ammunition boxes, arming weapon racks and sorting through crates of armour, with piles of junked gear strewn about. At the end of the room, was a fenced off area where a synthetic humanoid was examining a large revolver with a melted receiver. Sunset walked over to the synthetic and greeted him with a whistle and a nod.

“Hello, Hephaestus. You got my gear behind that desk of yours?” She leaned an arm against the desk and shot him a smirk. Hephaestus was one of the Thames’ Quartermasters, with a sleek gray and black chassis made of flexible materials, with glowing eyes and mouth, coloured fuchsia. One eye sported a cracked design, causing it to flicker, with half of his jaw missing. To compensate, scrap plates were welded to the left side of his face to hold the damaged casing together. A light coloured tunic and wraps covered his shoulders, torso and legs.

“Good afternoon, Gunny—and don’t worry, your precious rifle is back here. Had to make some repairs, though; changed some of the metal bits to carbon fibre, adjusted or replaced the internals, recalibrated to take 7.62’s. Your armour’s in working condition, too. Left pauldron was reinforced with some street signs and junk metal from the town over, too much damage for the nanobots. Ferleks put some decoratives on it, too.” Hephaestus explained as he knelt to rummage through some shelves, before standing up. He placed a rifle and three double-stack sixty-round magazines on the table, along with two charred cardboard ammo boxes.

The rifle had a bullpup design, magazine-fed with three different fire settings, semi-automatic, burst, and automatic, and basic foam padding and duct-tape wrap lining the stock. A picatinny-rail mounted scope was clicked into place above the receiver, with a holographic red-dot and a few scratches along the glass. Duct-tape, cloth and basic bindings were wrapped around the stock, with a similar design to the Tavor Tar-21, with varying differences, such as picatinny-rail mounts, material differences, and internal differences. Sunset was quick to pick up the weapon and stroke the horizontal group mounted on the bottom picatinny. Next was a Modular Tactical-Utility-Combat-Knife, or M-TUCK, with a non-reflective titanium-carbide 24-centimeter blade and comfortable rubber-mesh grip in a black sheathe that’d clip onto PALS-Webbing or strap to the thigh. Finally, a Colter M2256 Combat Pistol, sharing an outer appearance with the MEU(SOC) pistol, albeit bulkier and with a picatinny rail mount on the top and bottom of the slide and barrel, chambered in 12.7x40mm HE/AP rounds.

“Your armour’s in the frame over there in the closest frame to the door.” With this knowledge, Sunset strode over to the frame after giving Hephaestus her thanks. It was circular, with different pieces of armour held by miniature claws that connected to a rotating spherical object comprised of metal and circuitry. Sunset stepped onto a pair of metal footprints, the process of arming up beginning for her.

A set of gauntlets were attached to her forearms, sporting a rounded design, with blocky pads protecting the elbow joints. On her left arm, a rerebracer was attached, reinforced with scrap metal, originally made of smooth, white titanium, now using corrugated steel to reinforce the damaged plating beneath, whilst the right rerebracer was spared the damage and reinforcement. The plating wrapped around her upper-arm, leaving her shoulder exposed. Next, a set of bulbous, rounded pauldrons were mounted on the rerebracers. The left pauldron was reinforced with road signs and license plates, whilst the right pauldron remained undamaged, save some scratches and minor markings.

Her chest-plating was a few inches thick along the centre, thinning along the bottom and edges, with a thick titanium collar along the chest, starting along the collar-bone, ending at the base of the neck, her serial numbers etched along the band of the collar. The rear-plate was rounded and thick, interlocking with the front-torso plate under the arms and over the shoulders. Thin, light plates were mounted along her abdomen, with neat columns of webbing built into the plates, with a tactical holster along the hips and lower back, with a ceramic-plated kitbag mounted on the rear of her waist, the bag containing PALS webbing, much like the abdominal plates, with several smaller pouches locked into place on the sides and front of the kitbag. A few smaller pouches were hooked along the thinly-plated tactical holster, along with an empty hardcase on the left thigh, attached with straps and magnetic plates on the thigh-armour.

Sunset’s legs were encased in the same white plate-armour of the rest of her body, with the thigh-guards protecting the back, outer and lower inner thighs. A pair of metal plates attached to her boots, leaving only small bits exposed to the elements. Titanium greaves took to protecting what the plated boots did not, protecting the majority of the calves and shin, with small, diamond-shaped plates cropping up over the top to protect the joints. Magnetic-plates were infused with the outer thighs, and more PALS-Webbing was lining the sides of the greaves.

To top it off, her helmet was sleek, with a dual-fin brim above the visor, a cyan-coloured composite of different materials, shaped similarly to an upside-down trapezoid. A set of fins formed across the jaw of the helmet. The fins and brim were gun-metal gray, and with the exception of the visor and a stripe down the middle of the dome, the entire helmet was a bluish white colour like the rest of the armour. As the helmet slowly slid over her head, with a steady hiss as it pressurized, her vision went black. Immediately, the air filtration came online, as well as internal lighting, allowing her to see the dull gray hexagonal-pattern blank screen that spanned the helmet, illuminated by a dull, bluish LED.

Sunset took a moment to get used to being in the suit of Kavacha-VI Powered Combat Armour, with her HUD flickering to life.

Systems booting up…

Life Support… Online.

XK12 NF Engine… Online.

Fine Motor Function… Active.

Navigations… Online.

A radar bubble appeared in the lower left sector of the screen, and a compass spanned the top of the HUD. The radar was flush with red dots, indicating hostiles surrounding her, and the screens flickered for a moment, before her sight was returned to her, the dull interior of the poorly-lit armoury becoming visible yet again, however silent.

Identify Friend-or-Foe… Online.

A sweeping effect went over the radar—which doubled as a miniature map—and the red dots became yellow, indicating friendlies.

Testing Internal Speakers… Online.

Testing External Speakers… Online.

The din of the armoury immediately returned to her, metallic clanking and idle chatter between the personnel.

Artificial Intelligence Port… Locked.

Communications… Long Range… Offline. Short Range… Online.

Weapons Systems… Online.

The upper right corner flickered as the symbol of her AERSW-BCR48 Bullpup Battle Rifle, followed by marking the amount of ammunition left in the magazine beneath the symbol. Empty, with an ejected magazine.

Chameleon-Class Camouflage Generator… Online.

Sunset’s armour went from bluish-white to a rust-orange digital camouflage, with the visible bits of armour under the scrap reinforced left shoulder flickering to a rust orange. Sunset made a mental footnote to apply some paints to the armour, so it matched the camo pattern.

X-7 Poseidon-Class Energy-Repulsion Shields… Offline. Shield Generator has been obstructed, damaged or removed. Recommend immediate replacement.

XR-Class SRD-Booster… Online. Fifteen of ninety doses remain, restock recommended.

EMP-Shielding… Active.

All Essential Systems Nominal. Boot-Up Sequence Complete. Thank you for choosing the KAVACHA-VI Shevade-Tek Support-Defense-Armour Platform. Have a SAFE AND PRODUCTIVE day.

With that, the HUD boot-up was complete, and Sunset was quick to stretch out, and stride over to a set of crates and lockers in the corner of the room, gathering equipment into a box before taking her spot at a bench to get prepped further.

Sunset strapped a CLS-Kit to her right thigh, and removed the kitbag from her waist, dropping it to her feet. She’d fill it with gear once she’d finished with her current task. She slung a pistol harness around her shoulders, clipping a black leather holster to it, as well as a half-dozen clip pouches, followed by her sliding her M2256 into place, locking it in with a buckle. She pulled a black fabric sling from the box, sliding a few 8-gauge shotgun shells into the webs along the ends, and clipped it to her BCR48’s stock and body, pulling a small weapon from the box—an M66 Support-and-Breach Close-Quarters Weapon, a miniature shotgun designed for—as the name implies—close quarters combat, support, and door breaching. She placed it in a divided section inside the kitbag, separate from her other gear. Sunset loaded a few magazines with 7.62x51mm AP/HE’s and HP’s, with a revolver loaded with high-power tracer rounds holstered on her thigh. She filled the kitbag with her other miscellaneous items, weapons repair/cleaning kits, zip-ties, a few MREs and an armour cleaning kit, which really served only to fill up her bag. The kit would help her clean her suit’s air filters when they couldn’t clean themselves.

She loaded a few double-stack thirty-round mags into the ammunition pouches on her abdomen, six in total, then loaded her BCR48 with a quad-stack mag, her M2256 with a standard eight-round magazine, and put on the decorative items that were given to her by Ferleks—A sleeveless army-drab half-caped duster and a chameleon-camouflage hooded poncho/cloak that she stored in a sling bag, along with a few non-lethal gas, flashbang and shock grenades. She attached a few pouches to the bag, slung it across her back, fixed her kitbag to the back of her waist, and left the Armoury, stepping down onto a pallet used as a walkway. Ferleks was waiting by the stairs, wearing his rust-orange camouflaged Kavacha-EVI Armour, with a torn khaki scarf wrapped around his neck and covering his upper-most shoulders, his lower pair of arms clutching a rifle, the PAISW-KR33 Assault Rifle, an automatic, magazine-fed rifle with a sleek, armoured exterior hiding the internals from the elements, with a twin-drum two-hundred-thirty round magazine clicked into the receiver, with a padded built-in grip behind and in front of the magazine-feeder, with a carry handle along the top of the rifle’s bulbous, hexagonal plating, and a mounted holo-scope on the picatinny rail below the handle. There were two other picatinny mounts on the left and right side of the rifle, with a grenade-launcher mounted on the right side, a flashlight on the left.

“You ready? I’ve got an op for us, to chip off any rust left.” Ferleks greeted, to which Sunset nodded, and followed Ferleks to a large, hastily constructed dome-topped concrete building with parapets lining the roof, guards adorned in hulking suits of bulky armour, with arm-mounted chainguns and carrying railguns. Ferleks walked up a set of wood stairs up to a small terrace reinforced with barbed wire, sandbags and fences reinforced with corrugated metal, where another guard stood, dressed in the same hulking suit—a Battle Casket, as they were nicknamed, with his hulking rail-firing boomstick lowered.

The suit had a bulky design, based off early Kavacha Prototypes, with dome-like shoulder pauldrons and bulky forearms, yet nimble gloves that were controlled via a Neural Interface that all Vanguard Coalition Personnel had. The helmet was dome-like, with an oblong-pinch visor, a dual-fin brim, and a sort of ‘muzzle’ outcropping over the mouth, a heat-sync style mouth guard with dual filters on the sides of the muzzle. Their boots looked heavy enough to crush the front of a heavy-duty APC with a swift kick, with a bulbous, simplistic aesthetic to them, except for fins along the sides of the boots. An added height to make any human operator tower over most Sangheili or Eliksni made them a terrifying threat, the added energy shielding making them nigh invincible.

Sunset and Ferleks gave the guard a nod before walking through a pair of double doors into the main interior of the building, illuminated by yellow industrial lighting. The main atrium was about two stories in height, with catwalks at the second story leading to small chambers lining the walls, stocked with computer equipment. The massive dome that was atop the building was entered through a maintenance lift off to the back of the room. Naval Intelligence personnel moved about the room, some working at holo-tables off by the walls, whilst others chatted with Army Rangers or Advanced Scouts adorned in suits of Kavacha-VII Prototype armour, their suits a slate-gray, with a bulbous, advanced aesthetic. Sleek, hexagonal plating that rarely parted, forming patterns similar to muscle, almost as slim as the operators, yet durable enough to take anti-tank rounds and have only scratches left behind. The helmets were simple, shaped around the head enough to allow the operator to wear headgear over it, such as hats or masks. Many of the operators wore hats akin to that of bandits of the Wild West, sometimes cloaks, keffiyehs or scarves, others wore jackets and dusters. Marines dotted the room, adorned in the same Kavacha-VI/EVI Armour as Sunset and Ferleks. The lighting was dim, with the center and catwalks illuminated with yellow lights, the bottom floor lit by light blue terminal or holotable screens, despite that Ferleks skillfully navigated and led Sunset to the maintenance lift at the end of the room, hitting the third-floor button.

“So, this is Ground Command?” Sunset asked, breaking the silence between the two as the slow, rickety lift brought them up to the Dome. Ferleks replied with a crisp nod.

“The spooks have set up downstairs, and have the Advanced Scouts and Rangers doing recon. They’ve got the Dome being used as a briefing room for the bigger ops, however I got us and the team a reservation of sorts, so we get to prep up there.” Ferleks explained, to which Sunset nodded.

“Who’s going with us?” Sunset asked, tapping her foot and checking her rifle. Ferleks did the same, glancing up at the groaning cables that barely held the old service lift.

“Just our squad. Skerrhes, Stein, Corporal Louis, Lloyd, Kettelie and Fedir.” Ferleks replied. Sunset was pleased with getting to see some familiar faces yet again.

The service lift clanked to a stop and shook as it reached the Dome, where a massive holographic display was playing out on the hexagonal pattern of the interior paneling of the walls and ceiling, photographs and short video clips of a massive cramped space of clay-brick, concrete and scrap-reinforced housing, with bombed out residential one-story clay-brick houses making up the outer ring of the city, with the second-most ring made of massive apartment complexes, basic Khrushchyovka architecture, with few buildings not toppled, burned or damaged in some way, with even fewer being reinforced or barricaded. The inner-most ring was made up of two-to-three story shops, with blue rain tarps, dark red fabric and wood or corrugated steel paneling used to create a massive canopy over lines of buildings with a once-bustling marketplace underneath, now barren, with many shops looted or destroyed. Corpses were spotted on the tops of buildings or in piles in the middle of empty streets, however the image appeared quite grainy, so distinct features were hard to make out. An aerial view revealed it to be quite close, beyond the concrete wall across the river, a few hundred kilometers down a dirt road.

“Welcome back, Sunny!” Lloyd greeted. Esme Lloyd was one of Sunset’s close friends from her early days as a teenager training to be a super-soldier. She was a woman of short stature, wearing a black desperado-style cowboy hat and a large scarf wrapped around her shoulders and neck, covering her mouth, with a pair of road goggles over her eyes. Her armour was the Kavacha-VI, with a short-barreled, pistol-grip shotgun akin to a Remington M870, a mounted holo-sight and sling lined with eight-gauge shells over her shoulder. A pair of serrated machetes were strapped to her waist, with a M-Tuck strapped to her left thigh-plate and a pair of holstered M2256 machine-pistols on the rear of her waist, modded with extended magazines and holosights. A large backpack with a red cross painted across the webbing was across her back, lined with pouches and gear, such as a canteen, a frying pan, among other utensils. Her armour was basic, with a smooth design akin to Sunset’s, with the bulky pauldrons replaced with slim plating to allow for sleeved overcoats. Her chestplate was broad, much like a Mark V MJOLNIR chest plate.[1]

Sunset gave her a quick greeting, before moving over to a small terminal in the middle of the room that would begin the briefing, pressing a few buttons. She moved to the side and gave Ferleks the floor, so to speak.

“A pair of Rangers discovered a small city to the South, and GROUNDCOM needs it checked out. Very few signs of life, and we may be looking at a sizable group of hostiles. Most likely a group of raiders or especially sadistic bandits, however there’s rumour of it being the same hostiles who grounded the Thames, although nothing’s confirmed.” Ferleks began. He highlighted the North-facing entrance, specifically two concrete guard towers in the middle of sandbag fortifications, some trenches and a few tents.

“Skerrhes, you and Lundy will garrison at this location and cover our entrance or emergency exit. We’ll be riding in on an HTT Bulldog-88 APC, with artillery support from a trailer-gun and the only Mark-V Tank we’ve got. We’ll set up artillery by a ridge, some fifty kilometers to the Northwest. The Mark-V will be hidden under Active-Camo by the breach in the Northeastern wall, where we intend to make an exit toward, lest shit hit the fan. The city’s divided into four blocks, with checkpoints separating the outer ring of clay housing from the middle-class apartment structures. We’re to enter from the Northern entrance and secure the Northern block. After that point, we split up into two teams of three. Sunset, myself and Lloyd will cover the Western block and move toward the centre, led by me, identify Bravo team. Alpha team, led by First-Sergeant Sayenko, comprised of Stein, Sayenko and Louis, will cover the Eastern residential block. Assuming that the city is occupied by hostiles, Alpha team will clear out their block to allow the Mark V to move into the Northern block and push into the central market, where Alpha will come in from the North-East, and Bravo will come in from the North-West and we clear out the hostiles from the market, and either occupy it until further support can be called upon, or we make it an indefensible position, the latter which is a last-ditch only—we’re trying to keep damage to civilian property, owned or dormant, low. Questions?” Ferleks briefed. Louis raised his hand, to which Ferleks looked to him.

“What weapons can we use?” Louis asked. Ferleks opened up a tab on the terminal’s screen.

“Small arms and moderate explosives. Thermite shotgun and grenade shells are authorized, so grenade launchers and high-power rifles max.” Ferleks answered. Lloyd raised her hand, same deal.

“Under what circumstances are we to retreat?” She asked. Ferleks examined the terminal screen before responding.

“Delta-Epsilon-Seven-Seven Protocol is in effect, so if we suffer any casualties, set the armour reactors to blow, and fall back, use that to your advantage if you must. We retreat if we’re outnumbered or out-skilled and it is, without reasonable doubt, a situation where the ends do not justify the means, and the situation is completely FUBAR.” Ferleks replied. Somber feelings were felt among the eight-man squad.

“If that’s all, make some final minute preparations before we head out. Dismissed.” Ferleks ordered, and the army troopers cleared out, except for Lloyd, Ferleks, Fedir Sayenko and Sunset, who stayed behind to wait for the second lift.

“Y’know, when I joined the army, I didn’t expect intricate squad-work like this. I was expecting company or regiment-wide ops.” Lloyd commented. Sunset chuckled in response.

“That’s the case, more often than not… However, these are extraordinary circumstances. Expect anything and be careful. We have lost too much to this so-far unseen threat, I’m not willing to lose anything else.” Sunset replied. Ferleks gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder with a closed fist.

“Wise words. Let’s hope that this is just a simple, quiet op… I’m not ready to go knee-deep. Ankle-deep, maybe.” Fedir quipped. Lloyd scoffed in reply.

“When have we ever had an op go right? The ops always flop—like that one time in Ceril-VI when we had to go toe-to-toe with those ZK bitches, and we were just expecting those apes, only to get surprise rape from the massive artillery nest in the city.” Lloyd commented. They all reminisced on the memory before they were snapped out of thought by the lift coming to a halt in front of them. The newly-formed Bravo Team piled in and silently stood as the lift lowered to the first floor. The trio made their way out a back exit, where a large truck was waiting.

The Heavy Troop-Transport Bulldog-88—nicknamed Bulldog for the appearance of the grille and headlights—APC had sixteen wheels, twelve in the back, with four in the front, massive tires with durable mesh to make them near bullet-proof. The cabin could hold four passengers, with two front seats with a wide windshield protected by vent-style armour and using holographic screens to maintain visuals. A backseat was behind the front seats, made up of two opposite-facing benches that were accessed by a second pair of doors, with an octagonally-shaped bed made of bolted titanium, with four windows, two on either wall, with seats built into the walls, and rubber floors, and many a buckle and strap on the middle walls and floors to lock down any equipment. The seats could be removed and stored in a locker behind the cabin, with the cabin and the bed making up two separate entities mounted on the sixteen-wheel frame, the cabin shaped more-or-less like a square, divided from the bed by two titanium-composite walls. The rear doors were thick with circular glass windows.

Other variants included using cloth-covers for the walls instead of solid titanium, allowing for decreased weight and cooler temperatures at the cost of less armour, or molding the walls to have bulges in the walls where Box-HMGs could be positioned, costing decreased maneuverability.

Sunset climbed into the bed with Alpha and Bravo teams, and the APC rumbled to life before setting off to the South. Sunset watched as they crossed a dirt road out of their makeshift camp, passing over the bridge and diverting its course to the East to reach the gate a few kilometers downrange. Soon enough, late-twentieth century and early-twenty-first century rock and pop music blasted through the speakers, and the chatter in the bed quieted down. Sunset chose to keep out of it and watch the barren dirt road. She saw the occasional rabbit scurrying to shelter, their fur coats lighter than the sand by a few shades due to weather changes. The cold seasons were nearing, and they were long and harsh, contrast with the short, melting-hot summers. The occasional dying shrub or bush was positioned along the road, and rarer were small closet-sized shacks that were abandoned, reduced to rubble or bombed out.

The APC slowed as it made a turn into a long concrete tunnel, and past the Southern Border Wall. The tunnel was barely lit with dim industrial lights, half of which were broken or dead, leaving them in near complete darkness, were it not for the built-in light on the ceiling of the APC. The drive took up the better part of a few hours, quiet except for static-laced music and the occasional joke.

After a while, the truck slowed to a halt, and the SHORTCOM crackled to life.

“Sergeant Ferleks, there’s a massive blockade of rubble and scrap… someone caved in the tunnel. How copy?” The staticky accented voice of Lundy came through the built-in comms of every soldier in the APC.

“We’re a few hours ahead of schedule… How much debris is there?” Ferleks asked. It took a few minutes for Lundy to reply.

“A good few pounds of thermite and a brick of C6 should clear us a pathway… Think the scouts blew the path?” Lundy theorized. Ferleks was quick to deny this.

“No. They’re Army boys, they wouldn’t do that… Besides, there’s no logical reasoning to do so.” Ferleks explained.

“I dunno, sarge… humans don’t think rationally and logically when we’re hysterical. I don’t think any species does, in fact.” Lundy countered. Ferleks had no response, only pondering the situation as Kieran Louis prepared an explosive pack of Thermite, as well as a brick of C6 breaching explosive, unique for its “softening” effect on concrete and most stone materials.

Louis popped open the rear door of the APC with an M2256 drawn, using the flashlight mount on the pistol to guide his way as he waded through what appeared to be ankle-height water, planting a metal-lined brick of green plastic explosive in a little nook of concrete, doing the same with the sticks of thermite, attaching them with wires and walking over to use the APC as cover. He lit the wire fuse, causing the thermite to light up, whilst the green brick of explosive began to glow.

Fssssshhh…

A bright green flash lit up the entire tunnel for a half-second. Once it had faded, where there was once a wall of concrete, was now a mound of dust that was quickly becoming smaller and smaller, mixing with the water. Louis snipped the wire off, stored it in his bag, and climbed back into the vehicle.

The APC continued on its way down the tunnel, with the apparent sound of sloshing water for a good forty minutes, stopping abruptly as they left the tunnel, and began back down a dirt road.

“We’re on approach, ETA five minutes. Everyone be ready—I’m counting a dozen civilians surrounding a pair of jeeps blocking the road, accompanied by concrete blocks. Armed, using MA1 ICWS’s. Got a couple wearing scrap as armour… Should we stop?” Lundy asked. She was met with an affirmative beep from the comms. The APC slowed to a stop, and one of the unarmoured civilian walked over. He was dressed in a leather jacket, bluish track pants, sneakers and a gray backpack with a marijuana leaf outline on the back. He and Lundy exchanged a few words, before he walked back to his companions.

“They’re bandits. Get ready for shit to get loud in about thirty seconds, maybe not even that.” Lundy filled in the rest of them, spinning the chamber of her revolver, a .44 with a holosight and high penetration power.

Sunset and Ferleks, being the closest to the doors, got their rifles ready, aimed at the door, whilst Louis and Lloyd knelt down at the back of the cab, weapons centered on the door.

Three of the bandits came back, one wearing a scrap breastplate under a ripped up black leather trench-coat, clutching a TOZ-34, one carrying an MA1, the other carrying a modernized AKM, with synthetic parts and a holosight.

Two went around the back of the truck, whilst the third, the one wielding the shotgun, took his place at the driver-side door.

“vykhodi iz gruzovika, suka!” The bandit yelled at Lundy. His endeavors were met with resistance in the form of being hit in the face by a door, followed by taking a .44 round to the abdomen. At the same time, the two bandits behind the truck were lit up by 7.62’s and 12.7mm rounds, falling back with the life leaving them. The remaining nine bandits yelling out and taking cover, firing wildly at the truck. Lundy and Skerrhes quickly ejected themselves from the front seat to take cover, using a nearby boulder. Skerrhes, armed with two miniature SMGs, compact MP7-like weapons with high stopping-power 12.7mm rounds loaded in, holosight mounts and twenty-round double-stack extended mags.

Skerrhes rolled to the left and fired two-round bursts wildly at the bandits crouched behind a concrete block, before rolling back behind cover. Lundy took aim with her magnum revolver, waiting for the perfect moment to fire.

CRACK!

Her revolver’s .44 round made itself a new home in the cranium of a dim-witted bandit who fully revealed himself to spray at the APC. Sunset and Ferleks hopped out of the truck and rushed forward, rolling into cover behind the concrete blocks as Skerrhes and Lundy provided the necessary suppressive fire to get them to that position.

Sunset waited for the bandit in front of her to pop up, unsheathing her M-Tuck and driving it into his chest, causing him to drop his rifle, an MA1K Carbine, and drop to the floor in a heap. His nearby friend cried out and jumped up to empty his magazine into Sunset, only to take a burst of 7.62x51mm rounds to the chest and fall back against a jeep before a single round left his rifle. Ferleks quickly ducked back behind cover to keep from getting blown away as a heavily-armoured bandit wielding a PKM began to blast the concrete blockade, slowly chipping away at it, roaring. It took only a second for him to get knocked onto his back by a .44 hitting his makeshift steel mask and deliver a hard-enough hit to knock him out. Sunset used hand motions to tell Ferleks to circle around the left side, so the duo could catch them on both sides to gun them down. The bandits would be unprepared if they were quick and aimed inward to prevent a crossfire.

Ferleks nodded, and with a count of three, the two ran around either side and let loose their entire magazines into the remaining bandits taking cover behind the jeeps, shredding up the weak armour they wore and causing them to crumple. Sunset keyed her comms and reported their success.

“All hostiles taken care of. Skerrhes, Lundy, you guys take any hits?” Sunset called out. Skerrhes replied with a green affirmative light.

“Lundy here. Took a round to the shoulder, pauldron stopped it though. Going to leave a nasty dent and Hephaestus is going to be pissed as hell, but other than that I’m good.” Lundy reported. Sunset flashed an affirmative light, using her HUD to check her ammo count. Twelve rounds. I’ll refill the magazine when I get into the APC. She mentally noted, slinging her rifle. Sunset slowly strode back to the APC, with Lundy, Skerrhes and Ferleks following behind.

“What about the guy with the PKM?” Lundy asked. Ferleks gave her a shrug.

“Let’s just leave him. He’s probably concussed or dying from internal bleeding from that hit—nice shot, by the way.” Ferleks complimented. Lundy flashed a green affirmative light in acknowledgement and climbed into the cab. Sunset and Ferleks got into the bed and strapped in as the APC got back onto the path set for them.

Much time passed, banter was exchanged, and last-minute preparations were made. The small army group arrived at the city of New Leningrad at 2100 hours, right on schedule. Other than the small skirmish with the bandits, they had seen no other civilians, some abandoned vehicles but not much else. Evidence was pointing toward this place being abandoned, beginning with the cracked roads and heavy amount of overgrowth along the outer city. The Northern Block Entrance was a massive wall of concrete blockades lined with rusty barbed wire and overgrown with dying flora, a massive half-opened gate flanked by a pair of concrete watchtowers, with tents and sandbag fortifications covering a 1KMx0.5KM rectangle of space, making up a makeshift military encampment that had been picked clean some time ago.

Lundy hid the APC in a tent behind some crates and under a tarp and got her sniper rifle, an OA-Long-Ranged Marksman Rifle Model 716—also called the LRMR, M716 or LRMR-716—and set up in one of the watchtowers. Sleek body, with an extremely long barrel and chambered in 20mm AP/HE rounds, designed for the ZK/VC War, as ZK grunts wore armour that was so thick that traditional small arms couldn’t penetrate, and with not a single bit of the target unarmoured, it required hundreds of HMG rounds to make dents. With that challenge in mind, the Orion Armouries company created the OALRMR, often nicknamed the Judas, as it was joked that not even holy deities could stop the high-explosive, armour-piercing 20mm shells fired from the rifles. The first models required Battle Caskets to operate, however Lundy was using an advanced prototype using forerunner tech. It was this tech that got them the upper hand in the Zeri’Kahni-Vanguard War.

Lundy slid a single-stack five-round magazine into the bullpup receiver and bolted the rifle. Skerrhes was set up in the other watchtower, acting as a spotter. Lundy took the opportunity to take a good look at her surroundings and reported to Ferleks once finished.

“I can keep a watchful eye on you from up to the central ring. Too many obstructions by then. I can use thermal to watch you in the second ring apartments, and the outer ring has only one-story buildings. How copy?” Lundy reported to Ferleks. He pondered the information before responding.

“Make use of Skerrhes as a spotter. By the time we get ready to hit the center, artillery and the Mark-V should be here.” Ferleks replied, doing a final equipment check before giving the greenlight to move in. Bravo team would cover the western half of the northern block, alpha would cover the east.

Sunset, Ferleks and Lloyd moved up through the streets, moving from the building corners to the alleys, utilizing cover rather than confidently striding through the streets like Alpha team. Ruined cars littered the road, and looted small shops were on every corner, papers littered the ground, and the occasional wall made of wooden junk, scrap plates, tires and debris blocked off a pathway. The rare barrel full of scorched wood was the only sign of civilization that they came across for a while.

“Alpha-One, this is Bravo-Three. You guys encounter anything yet?” Stein called out over the comms. Sunset took it upon herself to reply.

“Negative, Bravo-Three. I’m assuming you haven’t either?” Sunset responded to the call. A green acknowledgement light flashed from Stein. Sunset felt uneasy. The silence was making her anxious, however she braved the unknown and continued onward.

Buildings became less bombed out and more or less just abandoned the farther in, with more broken-down vehicles crowding the streets. Bodies, half decomposed, began to fill the sidewalks and line the walls, some lying on the ground or against a wall with evidence of them being lined up and executed. Sunset’s unease was far from being put to rest, as armoured bodies soon began to pop up. Checkpoints began to dot every corner, with bodybags piled up behind walls of wood paneling and sandbags.

“Shit… this isn’t the bandit MO. The bandits can be sadistic, but they wouldn’t go this far…” Fedir muttered over comms.

“You guys got bodies, too?” Sunset asked. A green light was her response.

“Civilians… fuckin’ hell, they were executing people, men, women, children… shit. What group does something like this? This is genocide. ZKs don’t even do shit like this… Not like this, at least…” Lloyd pondered. Sunset knelt beside a body dressed in brown robes with strange symbols painted on the back, most prominent was a wide-open eye with a diamond in the centre. Lloyd and Ferleks kept going on, chatting idly amongst themselves about politics.

“I found the body of one of those weird cult bastards… That’s a rarity.” Sunset called out. She received a few green lights in response.

Sunset flipped the body, finding much of the same—half decayed, riddled with bullet holes. She grabbed the wrist and noticed a crumpled, bloodstained note in its hand, clutched tight. Sunset painstakingly removed it from the yellowed, bony hand and opened the note.

SPREAD THE WORD OF THE GREAT ORACLE TO THE INFIDELS OF THE RED IMPOSTER, BROTHER VAXIM.

GRACE BE TO THE ORACLE.

-CONFESSOR RENDWELL

Sunset paid it no mind but kept the note and stashed it in a pouch on her kitbag anyway. Too far above her paygrade.

Before she could call out to Alpha team of their status, the air was abruptly knocked out of her chest, and Sunset was sent rocketing into the floor, a cry of agony releasing from her. She was quick to look up and identify her attacker, freezing in fear as she stared up at it.

The figure had to be twelve-feet tall, wearing brown scorched robes, with a chunk of his shoulder blown away. Its eyes were white and glassy, with its jaw broken and unhinged, in a constant scream as it rammed her into the ground, causing blood to gush from its wound. Sunset’s hand scrambled for the revolver on her thigh, fumbling with the holster, whilst her other hand went for her rifle. The creature planted its thick, leathery hands around Sunset’s neck and squeezed, trying to choke her. Sunset stared into its glassy eyes, tears leaking from her own as she felt consciousness beginning to slip.

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK!

The figure stumbled back, as four large holes began to ooze from its abdomen, Sunset’s revolver pointed directly at it.

CRACK, CRACK!

She fired two more rounds, this time into its chest, before unholstering her pistol, firing one round into its head and two more into its chest, where the heart would be if it were human.

“I heard gunfire, what happened?!” Ferleks rounded the corner, rifle at the ready, only to find Sunset standing over the corpse of a figure in drab, holstering her revolver and pistol.

“I got jumped by that sick fucking thing after I examined the corpse of the Oracle Follower.” Sunset answered truthfully. Ferleks slowly lowered his rifle as Sunset staggered over to the hardened clay wall and leaned against it, ripping her helmet off to let the contents of her stomach paint the packed-dirt. Ferleks simply stood by and waited. Sunset wiped her lip, spat, and took a deep breath, the nervous shaking that had encased her body as she vomited ceasing.

“Sorry. First time killing one of these disgusting things.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then slid her helmet back on.

“You good, Sunset?” Lloyd asked. Sunset flashed a green acknowledgement light quickly, scooping her rifle up off the floor.

“I’ll be good. Just need some liquor once we get back.” Sunset made a half-joke and strode down the street, clutching her rifle to her chest.

Ferleks and Lloyd followed behind with hesitation plaguing their movements. Sunset’s movement steadied and became more relaxed as they passed through the narrow, blockaded streets, and reached the first major checkpoint. Ferleks checked in with Charlie Team.

“Charlie, this is Bravo Team. We’ve reached our objective. Encountered one hostile—had a close encounter with one of those lanky bitches like the ones that attacked the ship, but we’ll be alright. He won’t, though.” Ferleks reported with a quip. A green light from Charlie.

“This is Alpha, we’ve reached our objective as well. How copy?” Fedir called out over comms. Ferleks flashed a green light.

“Proceed to next block. Bravo going silent.” Ferleks silenced the local Comms. The blockade in front of them was made up of concrete blocks topped with wire-fences, once electrified by a generator, now only rusting and growing weaker. Sandbag blockades flanked the gate, with a toll booth with a dead soldier lying over the window, a black MP helmet with a large hole through the top lying on the ground beneath him. The toll guard had been broken down by a utility, which was riddled with holes and crashed into a Humvee nearby.

Sunset paid the body no mind and strode past. There were two fences, with a half kilometer between the fences, with tents, corpses and gear strewn across the concrete floor, with a hard transition between the districts. Where there were once dirt roads and packed dirt instead of pavement, there was a concrete jungle with occasional patches of dead grass with the rare shrub or tree, equally dead, vehicles lining parking lots behind massive, cramped housing complexes. A massive blockade of debris kept them from advancing into a large park area, however there looked to be the secondary entrance of a large complex, although Sunset couldn’t identify it. The building was somewhat still intact, albeit the floors above had collapsed onto the second floor.

Sunset motioned to the building and led their push toward it. Decaying bodies had been tossed against cars, with a majority being soldiers. Their armour consisted of steel pads over the joints, and loose combat pants, with two leather pauldrons over their shoulders, forming arch-shapes across their shoulders, with fabric masks and helmets, their bodies sunken, their uniforms rotting and rusting.

“Wouldn’t want to be around when these guys were holding out.” Lloyd commented, nudging a body with her foot.

“Whatever killed these guys was fuckin’ strong. It melted right through their bodies but didn’t cauterize.” Lloyd commented, pointing to a few burn marks by a few corpses slumped down around a sandbag fortification against a van.

“Sounds painful.” Sunset replied.

“They probably took hours to die, which is worse… very little blood worries me, though.” Ferleks noted, pushing a body off the marble steps to the building, which led to a small overgrown terrace with a pair of double doors, a crowbar lodged between the handles, a dead soldier in a suit of rusted titanium-ceramic battle armour lying over a shattered glass panel, with dried blood staining all around the door. The floors above were collapsed to the first floor, so it would be luck that they didn’t cause the building to cave in, or that they could even get in.

“Should we risk going in?” Ferleks voiced his thoughts, nodding to the massive amount of damage.

“Yes. We need to get to the top floor to overlook the courtyard, see what’s left.” Sunset replied, jogging up the steps with Lloyd in tow.

“This place gives me bad vibes…” Ferleks grumbled, to which Sunset slugged his shoulder, and shoved the corpse off the door, removing the crowbar and pushing open the doors. The doors led to a small lobby, that turned to two narrow hallways, one caved in with rubble. Thick layers of dust were settled on everything, with bodies huddled together in the dark corners. A wave of dread passed over Sunset as her headlamp flickered once it passed over the corpses.

“Was it just me, or did you guys hear a scream?” Ferleks asked, fear rising in the back of his voice.

“Nutcase, you didn’t hear anything. Did you get enough ether or are you suffering from something?” Lloyd asked as Sunset took the left hallway—the only hallway, leading. Her lights and visuals constantly flickered, and Sunset swore she could hear whispers as she traversed the halls, stepping over the decaying bodies lining the floors.

“There might be a window through this door.” Sunset called to her companions, who were just about up her ass with how close they were. The door was wooden, with a glass window that was too smudged to make out what was inside. She turned the knob and tried to push, only to be met with resistance. Sunset took a deep breath, and shoulder-rammed the door, causing it to pop open.

c-c-crack.

Sunset was horrified at the sight before her. The resistance that kept the door opening was the body of a child—a small one, maybe twelve or thirteen. There were more of them, hidden under desks, or hiding with what Sunset assumed was their teacher in the corner. Sunset’s light flickered and dimmed, the whispering becoming screams in her ears.

“S---et! --nset! -----t!” Sunset could only make out the call to her, and closed her eyes, before she felt a pair of bony hands grasp her shoulders. Sunset spun around and was ready to draw her pistol—

“SUNSET!” Ferleks yelled. Sunset’s hand rested on the grip of her M2256, with his arms gripping her by the shoulders.

“Sunset get a fucking hold of yourself, or I’m putting you in as a section eight when we get back. We clear?” Ferleks demanded. Sunset nodded.

“I feel it too… this place gives me the creeps. I think you just spooked her with those spindly fingers of yours, ‘Leks.” Lloyd defended Sunset, not taking a step into what was assumed to be a rotted middle school class-room. Sunset and Ferleks stepped out and maneuvered through the halls, reaching the large, open corridor that was the central entrance, debris blocking off the hallway to their left, which was parallel with the entrance. The hallway across from them had desks and lunchroom tables blockading it. Beside the hall they entered through, was a shattered moldy wood case containing rusted awards of varying sizes and shapes. Books, bags and papers littered the ground, whilst a leaking pipe dripped from above.

Sunset took a right turn through the main doors and stepped down the large concrete steps. There was a massive statue of a horse, with the front legs, head and upper body lying in a pile around the base, rust encased the once polished silver engravings on the walls of the base, except for a single, blank plate, that was as shiny as the day it was assembled. Sunset found it unusual and knelt to examine it.

“What do you make of that? One side is polished and tidy, whilst the rest look like they haven’t been touched in years… what the hell happened here?” Sunset asked to nobody in particular. Ferleks stood beside her, alert, sweeping the area.

“My guess? Rebels overthrew local government. Might’ve been why we were patrolling so far from ZK Territory. We might be fighting a war, but if we can’t uphold the laws and keep the troublemakers in line, it’d be anarchy.” Lloyd said, examining the body of a dead man, wearing a wool cap with black and red-style digital camo pants, with a Mars-Tek soft-weave ballistic vest, with a strange symbol of a cobra in front of crossed muskets spray-painted onto the chest. The vest was made up of soft fabric-mesh and weak, light metal plates, forming rectangles in a pattern across the vest, with the fabric making them less defined, and a small metal plate on the front for the emblem to be painted.

“Lloyd, you might be onto something, however it’s not like it matters. Those bandits outside the city, all these bodies, and this rebel all just mean that whatever objective of defending this place was failed. The local military must have been holding off rebels when all hell broke loose… all these bombed out buildings? I’m thinking rebel artillery strikes, and they might’ve got their hands on a Nuclear Warhead, considering there’s signs of unnatural seismic activity, and my suit’s Geiger counter spikes around the larger cracks in the ground.” Sunset speculated.

“The kids under the desks? Nuclear sirens would’ve caused a panic, hence the massive number of cars, and why the outer sectors are so barren. Farther in you get, less prepared they were, and the hastier they were… Question is, why isn’t this city either, A.) a crater, or B.) why didn’t we find a crater, or more damage for that matter? An XR Nuke would level everything from here to our camp and leave enough fallout to last for hundreds of years.” Sunset’s speculation was cut short when Alpha Team contacted them through their comms.

“This is Alpha-One, Bravo Team, what’s the sitrep over there?” Fedir called to them. Ferleks was the one to respond, whilst Sunset and Lloyd began to pile up the corpses inside the main entrance of the school. Sunset found a pair of students huddled together by a classroom door, less decayed than the others, wearing odd clothing with even more odd features. One was a short girl with pink hair, in her late teens, with an odd pendant around her neck with a trio of balloons on it, and a purple-haired girl in fancy clothing, a young adult in her early-to-mid-twenties with a similar pendant sporting instead a trio of diamonds. Sunset pocketed the items and left the bodies be.

“It’s getting darker, the trip through this school was longer than we thought, and we’ve been trying to speculate on what the hell happened here, so we’re going to set up camp for the night, continue on in the morning if some more of those freaks don’t push us out. I’m betting twenty creds on it being some sort of dirty bomb. Irradiated the city without going boom, would’ve died down enough to just rest in the higher soil levels.” Ferleks reported, with his added bet. Fedir chuckled over comms.

“We’ll camp out on the roof of the incomplete complex toward the checkpoint. The debris walls will keep out any monsters of the night, and hey, if we die in the night, you can just steal our loot when you come burn the bodies.” Fedir joked before going radio silent. Lloyd and Sunset had used the remaining scrap and wood lying around to block off the school entrance and windows, whilst Ferleks had gotten their camp set up. Ferleks got first nightwatch shift, Lloyd got second, and Sunset was happy with being awake at 0200 cleaning her rifle by firelight.

The sounds of crickets were a welcome sound. Sunset’s sleep had been restless, and she was glad to get some peaceful silence whilst she processed the events of the last few days and checked up on her gear. She field-stripped her rifle, cleaned the internals a few times, then blinded herself by deactivating her Visual Sensors and reassembled the rifle within three minutes, a record for herself, before activating her visual sensors afterward, repeating the process a few times out of boredom.

Her thoughts drifted to the creature she’d killed. The thing was deformed, and almost… scared looking, in a way. It was angry, but it was not all there in the head, given away by its eyes. The jaw, and the chunk missing from its shoulder were enough evidence for Sunset to keep her guard up when they got moving again. Even now, she hated their surroundings. They were boxed in, with a scrap-metal wall and barred door closing off the courtyard, and barricades keeping the school doors sealed. Her hands started shaking, and Sunset had to hold her hands out in front of her and take a few deep breaths before she did anything else, in fear of damaging something. The synthetic arm was synced with her nerves in a way and shook just as much as her right arm.

Once her hands had steadied, she reached up to take off her helmet, only for a white glow to catch her off-guard. Her pistol was quickly out of its holster, and she whistled to the others over local Comms, awakening Lloyd in a flash, whilst Ferleks took a little longer to wake up.

“Contact, coming through the polished silver plate. Weapons hot.” Sunset readied her pistol, but no matter what gun was in her hand, the armour protecting her body, nothing would prepare her for what bewitchment that would follow.

Suddenly, a burst of air swept through the courtyard as a young woman, sturdily built, with dark purple hair sporting a magenta streak, adorned in bloodied, tattered rags, was thrown through, clutching a small mutt in her arms, with a sucking wound in her abdomen, bleeding fast, in a semi-fetal position—as if she’d just smashed through a window.

“Oh, shit.”

A FEW HOURS EARLIER, CANTERLOT CASTLE, EQUESTRIA. 2100 HOURS, 2278. CURRENT DIMENSION UNKNOWN.

Twilight sweated, with nervousness wracking her frame as she stood by the large double-doors that led to Princess Celestia’s study, flanked by two bulky white-coated unicorn stallions dressed in dark gray uniforms, with orange bands on each of their right wither, sporting the image of a rising sun in a darker orange surrounded by a red circle, the words ‘Excedere omnem’ curving around the top-half of the circle, and the words ‘moverunt lapidem’ curling around the bottom of the emblem. To leave no stone unturned, the motto of the Coming Dawn; Celestia’s personal guard and secret police.The only differentiating that could be done between the two guards, was that the left-side guard sported a long crescent scar across his cheek. There was loud arguing inside, followed by a loud SMACK, then silence, before—presumably Celestia—said something. A white unicorn was dragged out of the study by a pair of maids, one male and a female, his face swollen and bloodied, the white suit on his features stained with the same thick, coppery gunk. Crescent-scar guard stepped into the study for a moment, stepping back out to regard Twilight.

“The princess will see you now.” The left-flanking guard drawled. Twilight nodded and pushed open the doors with her magic, taking a gulp and a deep breath.

The study had red, floral-patterned wall paper and polished sequoia wood flooring. The design hadn’t been changed in over five-hundred or so years, as told by the Victorian design of the bed off in the corner, the desk and the fireplace that sat opposite the door, behind the desk, where a neatly-dressed Celestia was sitting back down. Her attire was an olive-green jacket that held her cutie mark on an orange band on her right wither. Twilight immediately noticed the small puddle of blood by the corner of the desk, and the few droplets on Celestia’s cheek and coat.

“Good afternoon, young Twilight. I hope you had an easy trip here?” Celestia greeted. Her voice seethed of venom and power, giving away no hint of emotion at the same moment. It was the common drawl of the Solar Princess, many had found out when speaking to her directly and not from hearing her speeches or propaganda. There was an arrogance deeply embedded in the voice, however Twilight pushed it aside. The aspiring alicorn mare chuckled nervously.

“Y-Yes, My Princess. It was, erm, calming.” Twilight replied. Nervousness wracked her mind like an automatic crossbow, whilst sweat beads the size of cannonballs dripped from her face. The warm fireplace did her no favours, either.

“Twilight Sparkle, you have been a faithful citizen and a promising acolyte to my… dear sister. There are few who have your fervor when it comes to studying and knowledge.” Celestia began. Twilight took a gulp.

“T-Thank you, my Princess.” Twilight replied wearily, fear and anxiety at the front of her thoughts.

“Because of this, I have decided it is time that you complete a final task; something to fully christen your status as a member of Equestria’s Elite… You see, Twilight, Equestria has been endangered by the reckless actions of a terrorist.” Celestia turned to face the fireplace as she levitated over a prism that depicted a three-dimensional coloured image of a unicorn mare, in her early-to-mid-thirties by the looks of it, with a fiery mane and a yellow coat, maybe five or six years older than Twilight, if she were to guess.

“Sheis a traitor—my personal pupil all those years ago. She… betrayed me, tried to kill me. The coward managed to escape through a portal that had been snuck in by the false-princess Mi Amore Cadenza—Sombra’s wastrel. I followed her, and was able to cripple her, were it not for my pathetic sister, I would’ve slain her, yet here we are. To make a long story short, she knows too much about Equestria and poses a threat. I need you to kill her.” Celestia turned to Twilight and gave her a smug, malicious grin. Twilight was pale and looked queasy.

“I-I don’t…” Twilight stuttered. Twilight’s memories of Celestia were… foggy, conflicting. It made her mentally furrow her brow when she thought of it. Some of them were of a maternal, loving leader… others were of an angry, vengeful authoritarian dictator.

“Twilight, this is a test of courage and bravery—I know you will succeed, because you are courageous! I know you well enough to know that you will not disappoint me.” Celestia’s words made Twilight freeze, her queasiness only getting worse. There were two obvious options here, and neither had an outcome that didn’t end in somepony dying; whether it be Sunset at her hooves, or Twilight at the hooves of an enraged Sun Goddess with an army of magically-engineered false-alicorns and unicorns behind her. Celestia could see the hesitation in her eyes from a mile away.

“Sunset Shimmer was my pupil. She was bright and had a knack for handling her problems head-first—and leaving no loose ends. For that, I magically enhanced her and turned her into a pure-blood alicorn, rid of her… sub-equine, muddled genes. Then, one night, she tried to murder me in my sleep. My advisors and myself haven’t the faintest clue what caused it.” Twilight realized that, at the least, the last sentence was a lie. It was her body language and facial features. Celestia corrected herself and cleared her throat.

“I was able to catch her, and I almost was able to take away her alicornian genes, however I was distracted and the filly was cunning and escaped before I could finish—I was able to sap away her very age using a complex magic, though, taking two-thirds of her age from her, leaving her a whiny brat that would die in the harsh otherworld… So I waited, seven years, for the alicornian genes—ones I had to sacrifice to give that ungrateful whorse her power—to come back. When it didn’t, I tracked her down and I almost killed her, were it not for my sister. I took what was rightfully mine and left, however I do not take that filly as a fool—she was the vengeful type, so I know what she will do now that she’s grown. She has likely amassed an army—the denizens of that world were degenerates, greedy and murderous, would follow her every order at the faintest hint of reward. Twilight Sparkle, the beings of that world are manipulative. Monsters, that if they knew about Equestria and how to get here, they would destroy everything in their path to get to me and to take control of the world, with the traitor as their poster filly. It is a necessary step to securing the survival of Equestria.” Twilight hesitated once more before answering.

“Fine. I’ll… I’ll make sure Sunset Shimmer… dies. Let me go get my friends, and—” Celestia cut Twilight off.

“No, you must do this alone, Twilight Sparkle. Moondancer is but a wastrel and Colgate is but a fool who won’t amount to much other than being a breeder.” Twilight hid her confusion at the mention of the two; mares whom she hadn’t been connected to since fillyhood. Twilight felt her headache getting worse and decided to simply go along with it until she could come up with a better solution.

“I… I will not disappoint you, My Princess.” Twilight caved. Celestia smirked.

“Good! You will leave tomorrow night. You are dismissed…” She motioned for Twilight to leave, before beckoning her to look at her for one last sentence.

“And Twilight? If you betray me, I will know.” Celestia emphasized, wiping the specks of blood from her cheek and jacket with a white cloth—a shred from that beaten-up unicorn’s suit. The message was clear.

“I-I won’t, Princess.” Twilight replied and trotted out, the massive oak doors closing with a loud SLAM behind her, causing her to jolt. Her mind raced with questions, however the one most prominent revolved around her headache, the conflicting memories and wondering what happened that kept Celestia from killing Sunset Shimmer—the memories of the dictatorial Celestia suggested that she killed opposition and held grudges. She trotted back to her room, ready to sleep on it.

Despite these intentions, Twilight could not sleep. Her mind was wracked with unanswerable questions, fear of the unknown among other things. The threat that Celestia made was what scared her the most. Celestia hadn’t ever done such a thing—she barely had any memories of being close enough to Celestia for the threat to even be necessary—anypony else would have died for their Princess. Twilight lifted herself out of bed—careful not to wake the sleeping baby dragon, of course—and left with a candle wick. A walk would do her troubled mind wonders. Luna’s room was on the way, so Twilight decided she might stop in for some advice while she’s awake, considering Luna was like a second mother to the purple alicorn. Upon nearing Luna’s room, Twilight could hear Luna and Celestia arguing, quite an intense argument, too.

“—I’m telling you right here, right now, Sister, that you’re wrong!” Luna began to yell. “You’ve gone too far! You’re sending yet another of our subjects, my personal pupil no less, into the Otherworld on a Faust-damned suicide mission!” Luna screamed at her sister. Celestia replied in kind.

“Sunset Shimmer is the greatest threat to Equestria since Tirek! She was ambitious, and too intelligent and charismatic for her own good! Were it not for your filthy meddling, I would’ve killed the wretch when we found her in that metal pigsty!” Celestia roared back.

“You were just afraid that she would see how weak you’ve gotten and overthrow you!” Luna yelled back. There was the sound of a short scuffle, followed by the breaking of glass.

“DON’T YOU DARE QUESTION MY STRENGTH! You may be my sister, but you will never be my equal. You could train for as long as you have left in your pathetic life, and you still couldn’t be half as strong as me!” Celestia barked. Twilight could hear Luna groan, followed by the sound of grotesque crack of bone and the popping of joints. Twilight cast an invisibility spell as the thumping of hooves grew loud, and a pair of Thestral Guards spun around the corner and burst through the double doors.

“Princess Lu—” The guard was cut off as both were instantly killed by large shards of porcelain embedding themselves into their skulls. Twilight shuffled to the door and peeked her head in.

Luna was hunched down, blood trickling from the side of her head, a foreleg sprained and twisted into an unnatural position. She hissed in pain and glared at Celestia with burning hatred in her eyes. “You’re just as much of a monster as Mother. I may never be as strong as you, but at least I won’t inherit her disgusting, inbred genes! My time is little, and I’m glad I won’t live long enough to experience her insanity, I only regret not dying in time to avoid watching you turn into her.” Luna spat out at Celestia. Rage seemed to boil from the white-coated princess, before she grabbed a sword from the mount across the hall and drove it through Luna’s chest. Twilight suppressed a scream with her hoof and a soundproof bubble of magic around her mouth, tears leaking from her eyes. Luna seemed… shocked, before crumpling to the floor. Celestia scoffed, her expression as if she expected more.

“I may be a monster, but at least I will be remembered.” Celestia spat on the dying figure of the lunar princess, the word ‘degenerate’ being muttered under her breath as she left. Her mane glowed orange with the flames of the sun, and she strode out of the room, the blood of her sister staining her hooves and her hoofprints as she made her way to—presumably—her study. Twilight waited until she was sure Celestia was gone, before rushing to Luna’s side.

“O-Oh my God, Luna…” She whispered, the invisibility spell faltering. Luna coughed blood and adjusted herself—lying on her side, the edge of the blade jutting out her back, the dark, coppery substance of life pooling beneath her.

“T… Twilight Sparkle…” Luna whispered, her eyes drifting off to stare at an indiscriminate spot on the ceiling.

“L-Luna, it-it’s going to be okay, we’re going to get you help…” Twilight lied through her teeth, whether she knew it or not. Luna coughed and fixed her gaze on the purple alicorn. The dying princess began to cry.

“I… I’m so… sorry… Twilight. I’m sorry…” She rasped. Tears filled her eyes as her body shook softly. Twilight shook her head and held the dying princess’ face in her hooves.

“No, no, no… you can apologise later when we… we get you better!” Twilight said, choking back tears. Luna shook her head ever so gently.

“… Sunset… Find… Sunset Shimmer. She will… save us all… If not for me… for Spike and all your friends…” She began violently coughing, before she began to go limp. Twilight choked back a sob and nodded.

“I… I will, Luna…”

“So… tired… I’m going… to sleep now…” Luna’s eyes fluttered shut and her mouth lolled open. Twilight didn’t bother holding back and cried into the neck of the lunar goddess. It was a few moments before she could move or respond.

“S-Sleep well…” Twilight gently rested Luna’s head onto a throw-pillow from a nearby sofa in her room, when an odd purple box on Luna’s dresser caught her eye. It had her cutie mark on it, and a note. She grabbed the box and read the note aloud.

“… ‘She has the key… Find the Rightful Sun Goddess.’” Twilight shook her head and tucked the box under her wing. Where the box once sat was a narrow dagger with Luna’s cutie mark embedded into a jewel in the grip. Twilight hesitated before tucking it under her free wing, then hauled flank back to her room to grab Spike and get out. She avoided the patrolling Coming Dawn, shutting the door behind her. The commotion awoke Spike, who groaned as he rubbed his eyes. Good, that’ll make my job just a bit easier… Twilight thought. She trotted over to the young dragon.

“Pack your things Spike, we’re leaving. Now.” She said. Spike’s confusion was evident on his features.

“Huh…? Twilight, what time is it?” He mumbled. Twilight groaned and grabbed his shoulders, waking him up right away.

“Spike, something very bad has happened, and we need to escape the castle if we are going to survive… Luna’s gone, so she can’t help us.” Twilight, albeit censoring it for the child, explained what happened. The fear got him awake and moving. Twilight packed her things and slung her saddlebags and noticed that Spike was sitting dormant on the bed, terrified. She trotted over to the young drake. He turned to her, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“Are… Are we gonna die, Twilight?” Spike asked, fear in his quivering voice. Twilight stopped to shake her head.

“I won’t let them hurt you, Spike. Just hold onto my neck and don’t let go.” Twilight ordered, to which he instantaneously responded, climbing onto her back and hugging onto her neck for dear life. Twilight quickly left her room and navigated the corridors with caution, keeping a lethal stun spell charged in her horn. What am I doing? Am I really going to kill anypony? Twilight thought to herself, although she already knew the answer. The Coming Dawn were just as responsible for Luna’s death as Celestia—she was their puppet master and they were her marionettes.

“Hey! Princess! What are you doing out so late?” Horse apples. Twilight swore internally, turning around to see a Solar Guard, his helmet off, the disguise spell disabled—she recognized him as Flash Sentry, he was new. Perhaps…

“Princess, you look like you’ve been crying, are you—"

“Flash, I need you to listen to me. I need to get out of here… Something terrible’s happened, and the life of myself, and everypony I care about, is in danger. I need you to tell me where the mirror portal is.” Twilight demanded, placing her hoof on his wither. She took a risk and told him everything that transpired.

“I… Don’t… It’s down the hall. It’s guarded by the Coming Dawn, so be careful. I’d come with you… but they put us on the watch for suspicious individuals and Lunar Guards… They said that they’re all being controlled… that they killed their Princess. I think they’re after you, Twi. Get going, I’m going to try and round up the rest of the Lunar Guards… maybe I can get them out.” Flash said and gave her a nod before galloping down the hallway in the opposite direction. Twilight took a deep breath, and teleported herself just inside the portal room, using an estimation, and thankfully didn’t get herself stuck in the floor. She trotted up to the large mirror on a pedestal surrounded by steps, with two dead Lunar Guards splayed across the ground in front of it, staining the surface of the mirror with blood. Twilight told Spike to close his eyes and moved the bodies. She channeled her magic into the portal, causing the blood to waver, before seemingly melting off and evaporating into the air. It emitted a loud hum. Maybe, just maybe she’d get out of this without violence—

Creeaaaak!

The sound of the door opening tossed aside these thoughts immediately.

“Oh, horse apples.” Twilight grabbed the discarded weapon of one of the Lunar Guards, a battle axe, as two guards of the Coming Dawn stormed in. Twilight tried to back into the portal, only to feel the massive amount of heat radiating from it and realize it was charging up. The two false-alicorn CD drew short-bladed swords, slowly approaching. Twilight placed Spike down and charged forward, roaring and swinging the axe, blasting one Dawn pony with a spell.

The guard used a golden shield bubble to block, then swung his blade at Twilight, creating a cut across above her eye, deep enough to cause a nasty bleed, whilst his partner did the same with the other eye. Twilight growled as her vision became impaired by trickling blood, and she picked up the other dead night guard’s weapon, a spear, and threw it at the left-flanking CD Guard, causing him to drop his blade from his magic to focus on grabbing the spear. Twilight used the second of time to launch the axe into the guard’s head. He screamed as a loud CRACK indicated it had split his horn and his skull. Twilight was suddenly thrown against a wall by a strong gust of wind.

“Twilight… Oh Twilight.” Celestia’s voice plagued Twilight’s hearing. She wiped her eyes and looked up, to see Celestia towering over her, Spike clutched in her magic as she stood off to the side from the portal, grabbing at his throat. She was… choking him. The portal behind her was no longer emitting steam, so if Twilight timed herself just right, she could snatch Spike and launch herself through the portal.

“Why did you need to get involved? You were destined for such greatness…” Celestia pondered for a moment, before smirking and drawing a long blade, ready to thrust it into Twilight’s chest for what she thought would be an easy kill.

“I’m going to have fun with this.” Celestia’s grip on Spike weakened, having diverted the energy into both choking him, and holding the blade. Bingo. Twilight propelled herself at Spike, grabbing him with her hooves and clutching him to her chest—however she was painfully aware of Celestia as she sliced open Twilight’s abdomen upon passing. Twilight’s vision became blurry as she passed through the portal, Spike secured in her arms, a stream of blood trailing behind her as her consciousness left her, and the portal closed.

Celestia growled, watching Twilight pass through. Angrily, she grabbed the edges of the mirror, and applied pressure, causing the glass to crack and creak. She roared and applied a massive amount of force, causing the portal to shatter, an airburst knocking down the other CD guards and Celestia. The frame was warped from the heat of the energy. Celestia got back up and huffed.

“Have the guards clean up the bodies, and I want that framed melted down for the silver.” Celestia barked at the CD Guard, before heading out of the room. There was much to be done. Now that Luna was dead, the Sun Goddess had her freedom of power back, which meant she could get her war machine moving again, which meant she could finally stamp out the pathetic insurrection cells in the North and continue her march across Equis…

[1] For reference only. MJOLNIR Armour was not even a concept at the time.