Author's Note

Huzzah! My first chapter! I'll see about posting a chapter every week.

(Has been slightly edited, (12/11/2023)

Prologue

"Incoming!" a horrible whistle pierced the night air as First Sergeant Dean Forester of the Army Rangers Special Unit jumped into a nearby ditch. His equipment clattered as his stomach hit the ground; the recently developed prototype armor taking the brunt of the impact.

Crack-Boom!

The earth shook as superheated energy blasted apart the ground to his left, vaporizing a few unlucky task force operatives moving positions.

Wincing from the debris, Sergeant Dean shouldered his modified SCAR-H tactical assault rifle. It was fitted with an AGOG multi-zoom scope, and green laser sight. A Surefire suppressor was attached to the end. The gun was painted in a forest camo, much like his current setting and sported an under-barrel grip for recoil control. Scratches blemished its body, showcasing to the world the wear and tear of the last seven years.

He quickly shifted his head gear back into place before crawling to the edge of the trench and peering through his sights. Sweat dripped from his brow, but his breathing steadied as he lined the optics with the defending forces. About two hundred meters down range, the enemy launched their hard-light projectiles towards the advancing humans.

These beings, the invaders, were called the Orith: a fanatical group of extraterrestrials who thought that they would attack Earth. They had come in their spaceships by the millions, broadcasting a signal around the world with one message and one message only:

"Humanity is weak, and it is our duty to rid the galaxy of discrepancy. It is the will of the gods for your destruction, and we are their instrument."

As it turned out, the Orith severely underestimated Humanity. They made the mistake of giving valuable time to prepare; and prepare Mankind did. Military infrastructure had money literally dumped on top of it. New technologies were created, technologies that one could usually only see in sci-fi media. A group called Enertech came out with the first energy shield. They were big enough to protect cities but required immense power.

New weapons entered service, bombs that could level entire continents, devices that allowed one to manipulate a field around any object and move it, genetically engineered super-soldiers with cheetah-like reflexes and muscles tougher than iron. There was only one problem with these new advances. The enemy technology was unknown, and during the time given to them, Humanity held its breath in preparation for what could be a fight for survival.

And that's when they finally showed up.

The Orith took Africa in just under a month, hardly losing any forces in the attack and landing millions of soldiers and equipment in mere days. Surprisingly enough, there was no orbital bombardment, and no warning of the impending attack. By the time word reached the world, the UN had mobilized the armies of Europe and began the march to defend their borders as the Orith advanced northward.... but the attack on Europe never came from Africa.

The Orith had taken some of their ships and landed them right in the center of Austria, a lightly defended country at the time. The ancient European state fell within the day, and it only got worse from there.

With chaos ensuing around the globe, the only ones who hadn't stepped in yet were the countries of North America. The world found out why three days after the European invasion.

It happened fast, too fast. Dean himself got to see the launch of the new super weapon: the Planetary Collider.

The weapon, made from stolen alien technology, was launched from a hidden space station. Faster than light, the device struck dead center in the continent of Africa. Instead of a typical explosion, the weapon expanded its energy in a massive dome around the targeted area. Anything from the East coast to the west coast of Africa was vaporized instantly.

The Orith lost a massive section of their army, but humanity lost an entire section of their planet.

With the evidence of a superweapon out in the open, the Orith stepped up their game. They decided to bombard cities from high altitude, they pushed further into Europe and Asia, and they finally attacked North America in a surprise invasion.

That's where Sergeant Dean Forester of the Rangers Special Task Force currently was: defending his country from the alien menace.

His squad's goal was to take back a top-secret tech facility in an Ohio forest. A task that was proving to be difficult. The position they were assaulting had originally been built to survive orbital bombardment, and the Orith were using the man-made structure to its fullest capabilities. Hundreds of troops fell to the futuristic weaponry the Orith utilized, and if they didn't act soon, hundreds more would follow.

"Move up!" Captain Mason’s voice boomed over the radio. The bolts of Hard-light had finally ceased and the team was able to push up. Dean slowly rose from his position and moved forward. His enhanced eyes and ears were trained on his surroundings, analyzing potential threats left, right, up, and down. His HUD (Heads Up Display) kept him in sync with the rest of the squad. Moving like a spectre, Dean’s footsteps were silent as he quickly worked his way forward. They met no resistance as they approached.

The group finally reached the compound, huge metal doors blocking their entrance. Dean let out a shaky breath as several soldiers, the remainder of the 29th Mechanized Division and some of the National Guard, took up positions with their weapons ready. Captain Mason's voice suddenly crackled over the radio, breaking the growing silence descending over the attackers.

"Clarence, bring the rockets over here, everyone else, get clear." The captain’s garbled voice caused Dean to wince. The man was an Operative as well, and looking to his left, he could see he was in rough shape. With their augmentations, RSTF soldiers had an inhuman pain tolerance. His left arm was currently missing, and the end was cauterized. His right ear was gone, and his armor and clothing were scorched. That said, Mason still had the steely look of a soldier, and he hefted his own rifle in his only hand. Everyone backed away behind cover as the bazooka team took their positions.

"Backblast!"

"Clear!"

Whoosh - BOOM!

The explosion rocked the earth, and the metal doors of the complex were blown open along with much of the concrete wall. Blue tracers leaped through the smoke and debris, smashing into the Rangers cover and raining debris everywhere. A few men cried out as they were hit, and Dean jerked backwards as a beam flashed past his head. Time slowed as his eyes tracked the plasma projectile, and he scowled as it smashed into an infantryman a few yards behind him. The man went down without a sound, his chest missing.

Dean pulled a Fragmentation grenade from his belt and primed it.

"Grenade!" He yelled as he tossed the small device into the darkness. There was a loud whump and the bolts of energy stopped. Cries and alien-like groans echoed through the darkness to their front.

"Move up!" Yelled the Captain. "Exo's! Up top!" That was Dean's cue.

As the majority of the group moved through the doorway, Dean and a select few operatives ran towards a nearby wall. One thing about the new armor, it was basically a strength enhancer as well as a protective piece of equipment. The suit itself looked bulky but was actually very lightweight and versatile. The spooks in their labs had tested some stolen hard light weapons on it and it was very resilient. It worked like Kevlar in a sense where it spread the energy of the projectile across the armor. It wasn't indestructible however and could only take a few blasts depending on the weapon wielded against the wearer. Many soldier’s this late into the war were equipped with plates and helmets made from the new material, drastically improving survivability and slowly shifting the tide in Humanities favor.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, sergeant Forester reached eighty kilometers per hour and did a flying leap. Wind whistled past his protected head, and his legs kicked as though he was running on air. His prototype suit helped him clear the fifteen-foot wall and absorb the impact of landing on the roof of the main building. Tucking into a role, Dean came up with his weapon to bear, searching for targets. Seven operatives landed just after him, each following his lead as they quickly scanned their surroundings. Once clear, the seven activated their foot dampeners.

Dean's job along with the other seven was to find the main laboratory and destroy any intel before the Orith could acquire it. Their briefing had included a detailed blueprint of the structure, and each of the operatives had it committed to memory. He figured that whatever was in the building was very important if high command was willing to send this many troops. Never had so many RSTF operatives been in one place on the same mission. A quick glance in his peripherals showed the rest of the company moving in through the main entrance, putting down injured aliens left and right as they pushed forward.

"I've got eyes on the entryway. Over." Dean recognized the voice of Corporal Daniels and quickly moved to him. His HUD highlighted Daniels position and recognized who spoke making it easier to pinpoint who was talking and where. A yellow marker appeared on his eyepiece and was placed five meters away towards a rooftop entrance.

"Not detecting any hostiles on the other side, it's clear." Someone said from beside the door as they lowered their tac-pad. With the scan complete, Dean silently moved forward.

"I'm going in." Dean raised his SCAR and pulled. The door easily swung open without so much as a squeak, revealing a dimly lit staircase. A light flickered near the bottom of the stairs, and the smell of gore wafted through the air. Turning on a flashlight, Dean found the walls were covered in the viscous fluid of now dead humans, and a body in a white lab coat was slumped halfway down the stairs on the right. Chunks of his flesh were gone, almost like someone had chewed them away.

Dean scowled.

"The blueprints showed the main lab room is just behind the door at the bottom of the stairs. Move quickly and quietly." A Ranger mumbled quietly to Dean’s rear.

Explosions sounded from somewhere in the complex, causing everyone present to tense; they had to hurry. Dean briefly wondered if the rest of the task force was alright but shrugged it off, he had a mission to complete. If this place was as vital as the top brass claimed, then casualties were a small matter to consider.

Dean crept down the stairs, his fellow operatives quietly following behind. They quickly reached the bottom and stacked against the wall. Dean gave a hand signal, and everything went quiet.

"I'm counting twelve hostiles," corporal Daniels set down the thermal tracker on his tac-pad. The device in question was attached to the armor near the wrist.

"Nine-Bangs, then breach," Sergeant Dean replied quietly. He could hear the chittering on the other side of the door as a sentry walked by.

Two Operatives moved to the front, each with a Nine-Bang in hand. Dean's heart began to pound in anticipation. His fingers curled and stretched as he prepared himself. Once under control, Dean's hands clamped down a little harder on the handle of his rifle, and he saw many of his operatives in similar states of mind. Even through the nervousness, the Sergeant knew there would be no hesitation from anyone once they began. They were trained, hardened, and engineered to perform beyond a regular Human. Daniel's fingers slowly fell into a fist, and he gave a nod to the operatives at the door. This was it.

"Now." One whispered over the radio.

The one on the left opened the door while the other primed his Flash Bang and threw it in, the second one following quickly thereafter.

There was a moment of quiet before the group heard a few shrieks of surprise on the other side of the door. This was followed by deafening explosions and blinding light. The helmets muffled the noise, but the Sergeant could still hear the thumps through the dampeners.

"Move!" Someone roared. Dean was the second one through the door and immediately found his first target. An Orithian machine gunner had his eyes covered, a mounted turret sat beside him, unused. Dean raised his rifle, lined up the reticle on his scope, and squeezed the trigger. The silencer muffled the shot as the bullet ejected and the Orithian's head exploded. He paid the dead alien no mind as he moved onto his next target. His movements were ridged and professional, and not once did he miss. He was a robot, a machine as he dealt death to the next set of aliens that poked their heads out of cover.

Dean's squad mates packed through the door, their muffled gunshots making a deadly whisper throughout the room. Within seconds, all twelve Orithians were dead. The sounds of battle outside the complex had grown louder, and Dean quickly swept the room.

"Lab clear." Dean called through his helmet's radio. "Daniels, prime the C-12 for five minutes. I want charges there, there, and under there." Dean pointed to two sides of the room, as well as an arch holding the center in place. While a single brick would have been enough, Dean wanted to be thorough that nothing made it out.

The Sergeant walked around the lab, examining the various pieces of equipment. He passed what looked like an old stone archway attached to a control panel and stopped to examine it. Dean decided to move on and walked up to a dead Orithian. It's a hard-light rifle laying in its dead hands. The design was sleek, its total length coming to about three feet. The sides of the weapon were traced with glowing orange lines of energy. Some sort of scope was attached to the top. Crouching down slightly, he extended his arm to touch it. He didn't notice a brief commotion near the entry to the main complex as a door slid open.

"Get Down!"

Sergeant Dean had the time to turn his head before the world around him exploded. Hot shrapnel glanced off his armor as he raised his arms to protect his face. One piece missed his protective shell and embedded itself in the fleshy part of his left arm, causing Dean to cry out in pain. His body was thrown back from the pressure and smashed into the boxy control panel near the arch. There was the sound of whirring, then a low whine. Dean ignored the sounds, as he was focused on trying not to black out. By now, the chemicals in his body should have been negating the pain within him, but it seemed like an eternity to the man as he sat there.

Dean's eyesight kept going in and out of focus as his arm screamed at him. He heard gunfire erupt and the trademark whiz of hard-light projectiles. A grizzled face appeared above him.

"Sergeant! Get up! The C-12 is armed, and we need to-" Corporal Daniels was cut off as a hard-light projectile passed through his exposed neck. A second shot followed, and half of the man's head was vaporized.

Dean started to regain focus, and a shaky breath escaped him. A ringing was overtaking his ears as he searched for his gun. He heard the machinery behind him come to life but once more decided to ignore it; he had to help his squad mates.

The Sergeant finally found his SCAR on the ground and raised it to eye level. His arm screamed in agony, but he ignored the feeling. The agony was quickly dissipating, being replaced by a chemical induced high as time seemed to slow. The hard-light shots as well as those of his fellow operatives were silent, and a feeling of dread slowly formed in his gut. The ringing in his ears stopped, and what followed were sounds from one's nightmares, clicking, and the tearing of flesh from bone. Not a good sign.

Dean got into a low crouch and kept his gun facing forward. A bit of panic was welling inside him, and he gave the mental command to activate his radio. Two quiet beeps sounded, and the man waited for a response. There was none. A toppled desk provided him cover from the entryway. Carefully moving into a crouch, he slowly peered over it and got a good look at what he was up against.

A swarm of Orithian soldiers numbering in the dozens were slowly making their way towards his position. A few others were walking among the dead, and the rest seemed to be tearing chunks out of his slain comrades before consuming them. Among them was a much bigger Orithian, likely a leader or commander. As if it had eyes in the back of its head, said leader turned and pointed towards him. A low, throaty growl followed by a click emanated from its throat, and Dean's eyes widened.

"Shit!" Dean shouldered his rifle and fired within a millisecond. He missed the commander as it ducked behind a pillar of metal, but one bullet smashed into a nearby soldier's head, alerting the rest of them to his presence. Hard-light energy was launched towards him, but it all seemed to miss. A few more bullets flew, and a few more soldiers dropped. By now, the entire battalion of aliens were trying to kill him.

Dean knew at that very moment he was going to die. There were too many of them. Even if he did manage to shoot his way out, there were several pounds of C-12 explosive ready to level the complex. He would never make it. A hard light projectile smashed into his torso, pushing him back. The heat splashed across his armor, and he felt the sting on his face. Dean continued to fire as he stepped backwards. His left arm was numb, his thigh had been hit, but he could barely feel it. Quick as a snake, he unholstered his pistol and shot another three Orithians before noticing a flicker in the corner of his eye. Glancing to the side, he noticed the archway had lit up and seemed to be slowly pulling at him, as if it was trying to pull him in. Its hazy surface seemed to ripple and whirl like a storm cloud, and the very color seemed to draw him towards it. Rifle in one hand, and pistol in the other, he ducked down behind cover, hard-light whizzing overhead, and contemplated his options. The archway looked like some sort of portal, but he didn't know what would happen if he jumped through. Incineration? A horrible and slow death?

He looked down and saw the look of fear on the remaining half of the corporal's face. He then noticed the watch, and Dean's decision was made for him. The timer for the C-12; it read ten seconds.

With nothing left to lose, Dean did a flying leap, his armor boosting him towards his objective. Time slowed even further as beams of energy flitted past him and smashed into the walls and ground. He scowled as he fired a shot with his pistol, causing a few Orithians to duck away lest they be blown to pieces. Switching his focus, the portal grew close enough to touch, but something was wrong. Dean was dropping to soon, and true fear coursed through him as he failed to reach the target. He just fell short, and in his wounded state, both his weapons were ejected from his grip and bounced through the portal.

Defenceless and desperate, Dean reached forward to pull himself up the slope and into the portal. Hard-light exploded around him, one punched through the back of his already injured leg, another grazed the opposite foot, melting some of the metal plating. The pain was excruciating, but Dean grit his teeth as he tried desperately to crawl forwards as tears nearly blinded him. Then, the shooting stopped, causing the man to hesitate and look back. The leader was walking towards him; too bad it would never make it. A menacing sneer crossed his face as Dean reached forward, his arm a hairsbreadth from the portal. He heard clicking behind him and looked back to see some sort of energy pistol leveled upon his face.

"F-fuck... y-you." Dean coughed out with a scowl. With his remaining strength, he quickly lunged and grazed the portal. A single shot smashed into the small of his back, but the armor absorbed the damage. He expected to have to be fully submerged inside the writhing swirls of the device for it to work but was taken by surprise. The portal sucked him in, and he felt himself falling. His heart climbed into his chest as the feeling of vertigo overtook him. He spun in place, and when he looked back, he saw only fire, then a dark object. Said object rapidly grew closer, and the man was too weak to move as it connected with his head, and his neck snapped backwards.

Dean felt himself losing consciousness as strange lights appeared around him. He was dying, this much he knew. He saw a face, a beautiful face, and it smiled down on him.

"I'm coming Marie, I'm coming..." He mumbled his last words as darkness enveloped him. After seven years, First Sergeant Dean Forester was finally at peace.

As the lone human fell through the swirling vortex, unconscious, a strange being with mismatched body parts appeared before him. It’s body was wrapped in ethereal light, and its piercing red irises bore into the soldier as he fell through the depths of time and space. Its calculating eyes scanned the Human, and a contemplative look came over its features.

"You will do nicely," the being frowned down upon the figure. "It's time for a second chance. I hope this doesn't prove to be a mistake."

The being disappeared, but throughout the cosmos, if one were to listen closely, they would most likely hear the snap of fingers. A snap that would forever change the fate of the Multiverse.