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Prologue: Legend

“Journal entry number 521. December 24th, 2098. The time is 23:15. I am Private Brian Pierce, turning age twenty tonight once the time hits 00:00. Mother said that I still have a chance to grow taller but I’ve been five foot three inches since the day I turned fifteen, so that’s bull.” He spoke into the mic that was embedded in his suit. Brian Pierce wasn’t a pretty short guy standing at only five foot three inches tall but he weighed a solid 180 despite the lack of a bountiful source of protein. Although he was still technically a teenager, his face bore the signs of someone who was at least a decade older. “ Well, I can’t complain since I am still alive, I mean -”

“Peanut.” The deep voice that cut him off as he was speaking belonged to his older brother and frequent guard partner, Specialist Don Pierce. Don, age twenty two was almost Brian’s complete opposite in terms of stature; he typically towered over most people with his six foot and seven inch frame but, while he weighed almost as much as Brian did, he was built as thin as a rail. The only similarities between the two could be found in their faces and voices.

“Don’t call me that.” Brian growled over the com. His older brother’s height made him even more sensitive to his own lack of stature. If it were another senior officer other than his older brother, or had he been around other soldiers as well, he wouldn’t have acted so insubordinately.

“Quiet.” Don replied as he yawned. Guard duty was a fairly mundane task given the effectiveness of the GP barriers.

“Why? We’ve got nothing else to do except sit out here and freeze our asses off in these Sentinels on my birthday night.” Brian huffed as his sharp brown eyes pierced into the darkness, his vision aided by the nightvision capabilities of his Sentinel.

The Sentinel was a bipedal machine that was built and developed by mankind in order to help fight against the hordes of monsters while keeping the pilot relatively safe. Each one was a thirty foot tall metal giant equipped with a pair of high caliber chain guns that would enable the user, provided they had a full box of ammo and weren’t facing anything beyond the basic hordes, to wipe out at least 1000. While the earlier Sentinel models were almost completely immobile and could serve as little more than really expensive turrets, after over fifty years of improvements and modifications, the Sentinels became much more formidable tools in the hands of those who were equipped with partially formed Aegis Cores, allowing them to integrate directly with the Sentinels themselves, increasing their efficiency and movement speed and response time by as much as 200% depending upon the individual’s aptitude. There was a drawback to this, of course, the linked pilot would risk suffering severe mental backlash should they be damaged enough to forcibly severe the link between them and the machine. The vast majority of these pilots, however, were more than willing to take this risk in exchange for the significant boost in combat effectiveness and ability to engage opponents in close combat should the need arise.

Don and Brian fell into this category of Sentinel pilots, they each had partial Aegis Cores, only 9% formed at most, but enough to establish a strong link with their machines.

“Like always, there is hardly anything out there, just a single Siren. The majority of those things are far more clever than either you or me, they know that they won’t be getting past the barrier any time soon, so why would they bother sitting around? We’re the only idiots who do that.” Don and Brian weren’t the only Sentinel units who were out on patrol that night, equally spread out around the perimeter of the San Francisco “Holy Land”, otherwise known by the name of “Serenity”, were twenty other units, each responsible for guarding several miles of the border.

Outside of the translucent protective barrier of “Serenity”, stood a little girl.

She couldn’t be more than four years old. Her dainty little face was smudged with dirt, tears formed small streams that streaked down the sides of her soft cheeks; clouds of dust, dyed red, puffed up with each drop as the thirsty earth swallowed the tears as soon as they hit the ground. What remained of a beautiful bright yellow sunday dress that was now closer to resembling a washing rag than anything else, hung loose upon her tiny frame; the dress rustled as her shoulders trembled, fear, loneliness and sorrow was plastered upon her face.

“Mommy!” The cry rang out sharply on the other side of the barrier but came across as a muffled screech when it reached the ears of the Sentinels who stood stoically at their posts. Even with the protection of the barrier, the call still made their souls shudder slightly, they each felt the slightest urge to go out and rescue the small child despite having complete knowledge of its true form.

“Ah, the little girl came today, huh? Makes sense seeing as it’s Christmas Eve.” Brian lamented. Although holidays and celebrations like Christmas no longer had quite the same fanfare that they used to, as was seen in old recordings of life before the fall, they were still important to the human race as those events were still part of what defined humanity, a part of what separated them from those things outside. For this reason, even though they lacked various resources and could rarely afford any excess, people still celebrated such things in order to keep the human spirit alive and help foster some sense of hope.

They stood still as the minutes ticked by, accompanied only by the periodic cries of the Siren.

“It’s 00:00. Happy birthday little bro.” Don chuckled as he disconnected himself from his Sentinel, placing it on standby as he popped the hatch of his cockpit and scrambled down the side of his machine. “Come on, I’ve got a little something for you.” He fished a small bottle out of a bag that he carried down with him, the liquid inside had an amber glow to it.

“No way.” Brian almost shouted as he swiftly removed his own restraints and scrambled down to join his brother. His eyes were locked on the bottle as his jaws fell to the floor. “How did you get that bottle of whiskey?”

“I have my secrets.” Don simply grinned as he saw the excitement on his younger brother’s face.

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Since the fall of man, the production of things like alcohol became taboo, it was considered a tremendous waste of resources in a time when even the richest people struggled to get a single good meal a day. Alcohol, as a product, became non-existent out of necessity. Now over 100 years removed from the initial fall of humanity, it was almost unheard of for people to have any alcoholic beverages at all because most of the art had been lost and the majority of stores had long been raided and emptied.

They took turns taking one sip of whisky, savoring the burn as it rolled around in their mouths leaving a trail of cinnamon fire in its wake before searing their throats and spreading its warmth through the pit of their stomach.

“Oh shit!” Brian coughed as his eyes teared up. He let out a laugh as he shivered. Brian had never tasted a single alcoholic beverage before and his first taste shook him to the core. “Man is that stuff rough! What did you make it with? Lava?” He could still feel the burning in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m not entirely sure, I just got lucky and found this in some rundown house.” Don shrugged, he wanted to laugh but was struggling to keep his own cough back; he, of course, was also very inexperienced with alcohol.

After their first sampling, they didn’t dare take another sip. While they didn’t really care for it, they were still on guard duty and knew that they could get into an incredible amount of trouble if they shirked their duties.

They passed another several hours in silent vigilance; the end of their shift was near as the clock read 3:00, just one more hour until they would be replaced by another pair.

“Don, look.” Brian frowned as he saw the body of the small girl begin to flicker out of existence, in its place was a grotesque fiend. Its face had no eyes, only pit sensors like those found on a snake, and a giant mouth full of razor sharp teeth that could shred straight through most man-made materials. Its body was wrinkled with four withered breasts that hung past its elbows; its body was hunched over with six deceptively thin limbs protruding from its torso. The skin of the Siren was a sickly grey hue, covered in a thin membrane that looked vaguely like mucus; it was mostly bald except for a few patches of hair that hung from its head. It stood at roughly five feet tall, perched upon a pile of rubble as its shriek filled the air.

Its face was turned away from the barrier, it seemed to sense something off in the distance.

“Shit, something big must be coming.” Don muttered as he activated his com-link and set it to include all active guards. “All units, on alert. This is Sgt. Pierce speaking. We are unsure yet but we may have something in sector N2. We have visual of a Siren that is reacting strangely to some outside influence. Keep your eyes open for anything. Issuing level one alert, it may be nothing, but be sure to check in on time. Over.”

A multitude of confirmations came in over the com as everyone received the message.

As soon as the last voice sounded, the Siren let out an even stranger and more piercing screech before suddenly gliding away at a speed that would shock anyone who was unfamiliar with the various monsters beyond the shield.

The eyes of the Pierce brothers narrowed as they consciously diverted a bit more power to the night vision capabilities of the Sentinels and activated the thermal overlay, allowing them to get a more accurate idea of what was out there.

Several more moments passed before a figure slowly appeared.

The figure was that of a humanoid male that stood at just a little over six feet tall. He was cloaked in a skin-tight black material that revealed the contours of his sculpted body. Even under the cover of the blood-red night, one could tell that he was an incredibly powerful being; walking unperturbed through the land of the undead where no human dared to walk alone. His face was covered by a sleek black helm, his features hidden in a darkness that was so complete that not a single ray of light could escape it. His gait had a slight hitch to it, as if something was hindering it a bit; it wasn’t until the man got closer and within the range of the spotlights that Don and Brian were able to see what it was. The sight of it made their hearts feel like they were about to burst out of their chests, made their throats run dry and their souls feel like they wanted to flee from their bodies, made every single hair on their body stand rigid in primal fear and hatred.

It was the massive and vile head of an Arch Demon.

“Halt! Do not advance any further!”

Both Don and Brian simultaneously yelled out as the blood pounded into their heads, it took every bit of their years of training to not pull the triggers on their guns as the armaments on the Sentinels came roaring to life, pointing at the lone figure and his grisly traveling companion.

It wasn’t the figure that triggered this reaction in the brothers, but rather the head of the Arch Demon; any human who came across even the smallest hint of an Arch Demon would have their most basic instinct trigger; fight or flight. The Pierce brothers were born to fight.

“State your purpose! If you take a single step forward I will open fire! Do you confirm!” Don’s voice boomed out from the Sentinel, shaking some rubble loose nearby.

The figure stopped where he was and brought one hand up towards the guards. The helmet on his head suddenly dissolved itself and melted into the rest of his suit, revealing a ruggedly handsome young man who was no older than the guards were. He opened his mouth and spoke.

“I am 2nd Lt. James T. Harding, 1st ranked of the 2nd Generation of Aegis Knights of “Nirvana”, Holy Land 72, Los Angeles, CA. I must report that 72 has fallen. I am the only survivor. I slew this Arch Demon during the battle.” His voice was almost robotic, completely devoid of emotions. Deep within his blue eyes, however, there was a shadow, a storm of anger, sorrow, and pain that was buried deep within his soul. One could only guess at the nightmare that this man had to endure.

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