"... And if you perish in the coming battle, may the embers of your soul shine brightly in the minds of your kin, giving them strength to carry on and prosper forevermore." Lacerated One intoned, pressing bloody paws together before thrusting her arms to the side and spraying blood across the flock. A couple of orais in the cargo hall grumbled as they detected blood on their armor, but their leaders quickly restored order with a few punches. Several drops of blood fell on Annie’s snout, soaking her fur and reaching the skin. She felt a tingle running down her spine, her heartbeat increased. She wanted to run, to crush into enemy lines, breaking bones, crushing skulls, tearing through bodies. Gulping, Annie calmed herself, accepting the blessing of the Spirits. As with each of their blessings, there was danger there and a lesson. Not reward, never reward. This ritual is meant to teach believers how to control their impulses. Danger lay in following these newfound impulses. Wolfkins were already strong, and by learning how to control themselves, they mastered how to evade unneeded dangers.
Meanwhile, nearby normies twitched their bodies in ecstasy, the sudden flush of otherworldly energy was too much for their bodies to handle. Scarred One and Earless One, two shamans who worked in the praying den near the military base, had to restrain a few normie members of the flock before they could hurt themselves. For most of the members of the flock, this was the first actual pre-battle prayer and they met Lacerated One for the first time. The patchwork of open wounds looked at the people before her in confusion, stopping spreading arcs of blood. Uncertainty was gone from her looks in a flash and the woman finished her prayer in a strict voice, abandoning the usual ritual of blood blessing to preserve the wellbeing of new believers, "May life continue to bloom forevermore thanks to your efforts and through your sacrifices," She said, "Whatever our fate, may the spirits give us the strength to live as humans rather than monsters. Bless you all."
She was one of those who stood at the foundation of the faith in the Spirits, the person who gave the tribe much needed spiritual support when Ravager left for good. Annie felt pride simply from standing in the presence of this great person. Back in the dark time of the first days of Reclamation, Lacerated One was found by Ravager herself. The parents of the Lacerated One starved to death, trying to find someplace with food, leaving Lacerated One guarding their remains in the desert. Ravager found her, a cub less than half a year old, all covered with wounds from insectoids, guarding two dried up forms of wolfkins from being devoured. The cub was hungry, dirty, had suffered an impressive loss of blood, and was half mad from fear, after being left all alone for so long. And yet, when Ravager brought the cub back and the first shamans touched the body of the cub to treat her wounds, they felt power in the cub’s blood. The shamans declared the cub to be a destined child of the Spirits and raised her as their own sister, rather than giving her up to the pits and army. The original name of Lacerated One, if she ever knew it, was never added to the records of the Tribe. Now Lacerated One was the only survivor of the old generation of shamans, younger than some warlords, but much older than everyone else. Annie once saw Lacerated One and a few other wolfkins in a photo with Zero. Lacerated One, Alpha, Dragena, Zero, and warlord Ygrite were in this photo together, the last survivors of the bygone era. Annie half expected to see some familiarity between Dragena and the Lacerated One but could notice none.
The body of the Lacerated One was covered with open wounds, torn lines ran across her eyes, her eyelids were torn asunder, the skull was covered with lacerated scratches, bloody lines revealing gleaming meat as they ran across the arms and hid underneath the breastplate of power armor. The impressive healing potential of wolfkins constantly tried to close the wounds, but the prophet of the Spirits simply ran with her crimson claws over long torn bloody channels on her body, forcibly bleeding herself and keeping the wounds ever fresh and wet. Unlike the bone-colored claws of other wolfkins, the claws of Lacerated One had crimson streaks running across them, resembling lava that appears on the ground. Her amber eyes were stained with red, her fur was always soaked and dirty from blood, the grey of her power armor changed color to that of crimson. Constant blood loss should have toppled even such a being as a shaman. And yet here she stood, powered by her faith, Spirits or perhaps something else altogether.
The ritual of blood blessing was one of the most common rituals of the faithful, prior to battle, the shaman would spray her blood on soldiers, spiritually giving them strength to move on. With Lacerated One, this ritual was different. At the mere touch of her blood, even people with the most grievous wounds found a way to fight on against death. Spirits whispered through Lacerated One, giving otherworldly endurance to others through her blood. Original shamans explained to her that it was sacrilege for her to hoard her blood for herself, thus her skin was always covered by flesh wounds, allowing her to spread her blessed blood around. Lacerated One was the one who resisted newcomers into faith the most, only agreeing to accept them when other shamans voted for this. And now, the shaman was giving the blessing of the Spirits to all, normies and wolfkin.
Kayleen stood on her knees near Annie, holding her paws in prayer. Carty stood aside, surrendered by a couple of other wolfkins, looking dispassionately at the ritual. Annie had no ill will toward her fellow scout because of her decision. It troubled her enough, however, that she asked for advice from shamans. The shamans explained this situation well enough. Life moves on, ever changing. What was usual yesterday, will be replaced by something new tomorrow. Once, no wolfkins believed in the Spirits, for they had no idea of their existence. Then faith came. In time, it too will disappear, just like countless faiths before it. Nothing is truly unchanging in the world. Life turns to death, souls of the dead go on a journey into the great beyond. They, too, change and are reborn as new living beings on this planet. Even the Spirits were bound by this law, and one day they will vanish, changing into something else. Showing anger toward the non-believers thus was a fool's errand. They too had their own values and yet worked for the Tribe none the less. It still pained Annie that, over the years, more and more wolfkins abandoned their faith, the indomitable pillar that helped the entire Wolf Tribe endure the Time of Loss, when Ravager left on her own journey and left them behind.
Lacerated One's Power Armor moved, steel sleeves closing on her column-like arms, hiding countless torn wounds from sight. With paws covered by steel gauntlets, the shaman reached for the old-fashioned helmet of power armor, a helmet bearing countless scars and traces of repair from previous battles. The thing was old, crude, and archaic; the lenses of her helmet shone purple rather than crimson. Her helmet had two sharp looking extensions to fit her ears. Normally, wolfkins keep their ears tightly pressed to their heads while wearing power armor. Such a decision was made by engineers to keep the overall round structure of the helmet. Shamans were not part of the traditional military force, and while all of them were given military grade power armor, Lacerated One still used her old one, one that was assembled for her in times of old. Shamans only had one main task in the military and that was to serve as bodyguards for warlords and the presence of a warlord on a battlefield was not something subtle, they were more of a force of nature, rather than a subtle striking force. Grumbling, the command unhappily allowed a few shamans to use their power armor of old times.
Dragena stepped forward, sending tremors through the iron floor with each step, and rocketed her shoulders, making a few loud wet pops. Annie looked at her leader with confusion. Sure enough, compared to the other wolfkins present, Annie was still a greenhorn, but she watched briefings of old missions and listened to tales of wolf hags. Dragena always moved smoothly, keeping perfect balance. The warlord even had a normal door in her office, one that required her to lean over to enter, instead of massive doorways like other warlords. Dragena did everything in her power to show restraint and moderation. Dragena brimmed with barely restrained power today, resembling warlords like Janine and Alpha rather than her usual cool and collective self.
The faithful normies regained their composure, finishing putting on their own power armors. The wolfkins, Annie among them, were already ready, standing at attention before their leader. The leader of orais troops forced his soldiers to stand up, honoring the warlord.
"ETA ten minutes," Dragena dispassionately said to the assembled troops before her, shamans flanked her on either side, lowering themselves to one knee. In war, shamans obeyed warlords, in peace their roles were reversed, "His excellency is about to begin his assault. The landing zone will be hot."
"How do you know that?" Half-spoke, half-growled orais by the name Tegrin, one of the thug masters who came along as the Outsider's guards. Just like every orais, his body was covered with thick, short black fur, his head was too close to his body on an almost non-existent neck, and his massive shoulders reached almost to the level of his ears. Four thick fangs were visible in his mouth as he spoke, rest of his teeth were square shaped and lacked sharpness. The pupils of all orais were pitch black, while the whites of their eyes were a milky white. Evil tongues said that orais evolved not from humans but from something else, this is why their arms were long enough to reach the floor, allowing them to move on all fours. But the decree of the Dynast was final, orais were humans and will be treated as such. The thug master's void eyes locked with Dragena's amber eyes, and the smaller being stood his ground unafraid of the towering creature before him, "These choppers are equipped with stealthy thingy. We use them to get a drop on foes often enough."
"The stealth generators of the Barracudas are indeed impressive by modern standards, making us all but invincible to radars," Dragena acknowledged, nodding her head and motioning to the shamans to remain calm, "Yet, I am sure you have seen the map, thug master. The enemies had purposely limited the number of places for us to land with minefields, leaving several places before our facility undefended. They want to bait us,"
"That or they are incompetent." Tegrin pointed this out stubbornly, not breaking eye contact even for a moment.
"Our enemy this time is Alsyn. She does not make mistakes when it comes to military missions." Dragena responded with steel in her voice.
It all started five hours ago. Rift Talons, a mercenary group, appeared near the Tinkov archaeological center. This was one of many archaeological centers, dedicated to finding long-lost pieces of art, technology, or simply artifacts of historical value. This facility here was built over the supposed location of the closed city of one of the countries from the Old World. Closed cities were either hubs of civilian research or military research, such places were highly sought by scientists from all three great nations. As a gesture of goodwill, Dynast allowed archeologists from Iterna to join the crew of this facility. Equipped with massive drills the size of hills, the archaeological center resembled more of a mining facility to the eyes of travelers. Researchers were busy breaking into natural caverns below the ground, sending scout parties into the remains of cities underground. Unlike the solid slabs of stone above, underground caverns still contained many intact artifacts from the past. And also dangers, so many dangers. Biological weapons of old, malfunctioned AIs, mutants, hives of insectoids, and other yet unseen horrors. And sometimes, very rarely, caverns also bear new friends and allies. Orais, a clan of warrior people, loyal to Outsider and the Dynast, were found in one such cavern, half extinct from their wars with mutants over rapidly diminishing food and water supplies. Both sides were slapped around by Outsider and forced to make peace with each other. Mutants viewed Outsider with caution, preferring to move into the Core Lands and live calm lives of peace, while orais all but worshiped the champion afterwards, becoming one of the core forces in the First Army.
The mercenary group attacked the archaeological center, taking it over within half an hour. Due to the proximity of the refugee center Gamma, police forces were bolstered with military assistance. A force of roughly one thousand people had arrived to retake the facility. They were met with the intense fire of hundreds of energy rifles, combined with fire from turrets, tanks, and even several flying vehicles. The intensity of fire was such that it drove the forces of the Reclaimers back within minutes, scattering the group and killing many people. The total number of dead was unknown as of the present moment. The command was briefly in confusion as to where such numbers of enemy forces could come from.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Recon drones brought the answer. Robots. The mass-produced automatic armies from the Old World manned the walls and rocky fields before the archaeological center. By sheer luck or with some knowledge, mercenaries found a cache of these machines in caverns underneath a facility, activating them and using them against the Reclamation Army. Each robot was a parody of the human body, covered in steel plates, yet still having the same lean build as most normies. Even hundreds of years underground could not wipe out the blue paint on their steel carcasses, with a single golden image on their left shoulder, shaped in the form of a shield with the black words "VPD" in the middle of it. Their faceplate was made from a solid piece of armor glass, tough enough to withstand bullets, as snipers learned during the initial scuffle, lights on their shoulders created constant red and blue blinking. In a cheerful voice, the machines demanded surrender, promising that otherwise "gang members" will be shot on sight.
Dragena summoned her pack at once. Annie had just returned from the refugee center and was about to clean her clothes before going to sleep when the call came. This was the first official mission of Annie, one where she was given actual command over other wolfkins. The pack that she was responsible for training were Branded. They were deemed too green by Dragena, who instead gave Annie the soldiers of another scout, a woman who recently retired due to old age and went to her final journey in the shaman’s tent. And everything was a mess. There was no time for preparation, no time to lay careful plans for the advance. Annie barely knew her new soldiers. The Dynast wanted the crisis to be over, and he wanted it now. As Dragena briefly explained to everyone, Alsyn forced the hand of Dynast. By allowing calls for help to leave the archaeological center and by humiliating the military of the Reclamation who arrived to liberate the place, the mercenaries put a shade on the state. Why would mercenaries want to announce their presence so much, Dragena had no idea so far, but warned her troops that this could be a trap. Upon consideration and reading the file about Alsyn, Annie concurred.
Alsyn, the wolf hag formerly of the Dragena pack. She had a flawless service record, but had trouble working out with others, often risking herself and putting missions in danger instead of spreading duties between her pack. Upon the suggestion of Dragena, Alsyn moved into the Omega team of Alpha’s pack. This was not something unheard of or shameful, Annie herself left the service of one warlord, Kayleen served as a scout under warlord Janine before her transfer to Dragena and raising in rank. Sometimes one can’t grow in one place but can still grow in another place. Alsyn served under Alpha for three years, continuing to flawlessly do her duty. Two years ago, she disappeared, without leaving a letter of resignation, meeting with Alpha or anything. Desertion was unthinkable among the Wolf Tribe, yet by all rights, Alsyn did just that. Upon investigation, it was revealed that she came into conflict with one of the shamans, challenging her. Domination ended up with the death of the shaman, but the council of shamans filed no charges, nor disclosed the story behind the conflict. Stubbornly, shamans declared that this was the desire of the winner.
Alsyn formed a mercenary group named Rift Talons, made up of normies with whom she met during her time as a member of the Omega team. Warlords still wondered what to do with her, desertion was unheard of in the tribe, Alsyn sometimes finished jobs for the state, and wolfkins were not slaves. Sure, by all rights, she deserved a bullet in the head for leaving her post, or at least prison time… Dragena briefly explained to Annie when the scout asked about it, such a situation happened for the first time. Shamans were worried about making decisions that would discourage other wolfkins from leaving the Wolf Tribe freely and creating resentment due to fear of punishment. A tribe divided can’t stand for long.
And now this happened, Alsyn openly went against the state, the first wolfkin to ever do such a thing. Dragena herself stepped in, leading the operation in person. This was unexpected, unless ordered to, the warlord usually stayed in the rear, waiting for the right moment to arrive on the front and turn the tide of battle with her presence. For this reason, the warlord mercilessly trained her pack, they were supposed to operate in the field without her assistance. And now Dragena was here, accompanied by bodyguards from the shamans. Never before had she used her right to claim bodyguards from shamans. Now she claimed all three available shamans to aid her. Outsider provided the group with his elite Barracuda heavy helicopters, meant for the transportation of large numbers of troops behind enemy lines. The thick armor of these behemoths could withstand even armor piercing fire for a prolonged period of time. They lacked armament, instead relying on stealth generators to keep them hidden from radars, heat vision, noise detection, and the naked eye. With other warlords and their forces spread thin on the border with Oathtakers, it left Dragena alone on this mission. Dragena asked for additional military support and received help. Wyrm Lord sent several groups of normie soldiers in power armors. Outsider sent his orais troops. And Devourer… Devourer pledged himself.
Annie put on her helmet and saw the battlefield outside through the data that was transmitted directly to her eyes from cameras and drones outside. Devourer moved forward, creating a new road in the Wastes with his slithering body. Such was Devourer's cataclysmic advance: jagged rocks turned to dust, small hills were pressed into the ground, and the remains of long-lost vehicles were crushed once more. Thunderous sounds created echoes in nearby mountains, tremors shook the front rows of the automated defenders who positioned themselves before the archaeological center. It was impossible to hide something so huge, even if the commander of the Second Army tried to conceal himself. He approached enemy defenses arrogantly, not slowing down his approach even for a moment. The facility is located in a circle of stone, pushed up as a result of massive drilling, putting it on a man-made plateau. A single road led up to the main gates of the facility, and while the ground before the ring of stone was filled with defenders, turrets looked at Devourer from the cliffs.
The advance of the commander was met with a demand to lay down his arms and surrender, coming from thousands of dynamics built inside the lean bodies of bots. Devourer stopped, his eyes located in large "pits" on the sides of his head, looking down. The tail of the commander moved up, stopping roughly at the same level as his head, producing a rattling sound that deafened the demands of the machines. The head of Devourer danced slightly, creating wild patters in the air, a forked tongue, wider than the road, came from between his lips. Looking at the movements of the commander’s head, Annie felt her body going numb, all her worries and fears and dreams were going awa… She woke up, feeling Kayleen's paw on her shoulder.
"Don’t look at him for too much." The wolf hag quietly said, moving on to check the other members of her pack.
Fire came from the rows of defenders. Machines unleashed torrents of gunfire and beams of laser weapons. Tanks, colored in blue and flashing blue and red lights, unloaded shell after shell into the bulk of Devourer. Flying vehicles, fired their energy cannons, the same cannons that melted several tanks of Reclamation on this very night. Lights linked the body of Devourer with his attackers. Shells harmlessly splattered against his skin, leaving black and metal marks on his body. The smoke from explosions slowly covered the massive figure of an enormous snake, the thunderous hell of small war could be heard even on helicopters, even without audio feedback.
The tail moved again, producing a rattling noise once more.
Devourer moved, landing a single blow with his lower jaw on the ground. Annie never thought that something so gigantic, being that it dwarfs entire buildings, could move so fast that it would utterly disappear from her eyes. And yet this was exactly what he did. The long body moved like a whip, slamming itself into defense positions of the unknown foe, sending tremors that could be heard for miles in all sides. Had Annie not been in the armored helicopter, she would have lost her footing without doubt.
The ground cracked. Countless ruins of vast megalopolises built from materials that were supposed to withstand rocket strikes, materials that were supposed to last for eons. They were all compressed into countless large slabs of stone, when the world spasmed in near death throes, during the age of Extinction. They were melted together by the flames that consumed entire countries, enduring centuries afterwards, now they were shattered. Cracks run across the battleline, devouring bots and defensive installations into seemingly endless black caverns. Dust, pieces of broken rocks, and equipment, all flew toward the skies in a mushroom cloud, hiding Devourer from the eyes of advancing forces. The sound of battle disappeared, the sound of the engine of the helicopter disappeared, and all that existed in the entire world for a moment was the loudest crack that Annie heard, the painful scream of earth that was ravaged once more with a force rivaling that which was seen during Extinction Day. Devourer moved, sending pieces of stone, bigger than five-story buildings, into the skies. One slam. That was all that it took to shatter lines of resistance that held their own against the forces of the Reclaimers for three hours.
And the commander did not stop at this. He dived forward, circling around the facility, crushing robots arrayed before the stone circle with his bulk. There were no attacks, there were no clever moves, for such being had no need for them against foes like this. Tiny bodies exploded in a shower of sparks when countless tons drove them into the ground. Tanks in the path of the march of flesh were splattered like bugs, the tail of Devourer moved up, swapping aside flying vehicles like a swarm of annoying flies. Then again, for the commander, they might as well be flies. Never before in her life, Annie had seen something so terrible and majestic at the same time. By simply moving, Devourer rearranged the ground around him. A cloud of dust rose to the very skies, hiding the facility for a short while.
And through this dust, helicopters fly. The five of them have carried the assault force of the Reclamation Army. Blades of choppers sliced through the falling stone and metal debris, few stones that managed to hit the hull of moving vehicles produced a ringing sound inside the cargo hall, left marks on the steel but failed to break the integrity of the flyers. All five machines pushed on, toward the facility and a loud wheeling sound.
Wheeling sound? Annie wondered, before her eyes widened in fear behind the lenses of her helmet.
A drill, bigger than all five helicopters combined, pushed through the cloud of dust and debris, forcing pilots to dart aside to save their lives. A drill meant to make entire caverns in the ground, large enough to fit entire settlements, moved toward Devourer, aiming at his stopping moving body. The image became bully as helicopter systems pushed all power to the engines and stealth generators, but Annie noticed something before the cameras went dark. Devourer looked amused, while the insanely fast-moving tip of the drill moved toward the middle of his neck. The facility could not move on its own, Tinkov’s corporation had to pay immense money to move the center from one place to another. But drills could reach a wide area, as was evident by man-made mountains around the facility.
Helicopters pushed through the clouds of dust, pushed through the torrents of wind created by monumentally huge drilling instruments, toward their destination. Two helicopters landed to the right of the drill, three, Annie on one of them, landed to the left. The main entrance into the facility was covered in the shadow of the drill, hiding the skies and stars above. Doors opened and troops were finally unleashed.
Prior to the attack, Kassandra Trugh and other agents mapped the area with stealth drones, pinpointing the location of the mines. Some enemy bots stood right between buried mines, no doubt hoping to draw the force of wolfkins closer. Dragena chastised her soldiers for relying on melee combat too much, but the desire to see foes lay down before them was in the hearts of every wolfkin. It was an instinct for them. And humans could resist the urge to give up to instincts, unlike beasts.
The moment stealth generators stopped working, the bots turned to face new enemies, loudly demanding surrender with their cheerful voices. It was just a moment of time, yet that moment was all that the Reclaimers needed. Shards, gunfire, missiles, and laser fire all joined together, laying low autonomous machines, deafening demands of surrender. Rows of soldiers charged down the landing ramps onto the ground, each group spreading out, seeking the path to the location that Dragena mapped for them. Kassandra and agents spoke on the com network, helping direct forces amidst the chaos.
Several of the orais soldiers carried massive missile launchers on their back, moving on all fours because of their heavy load. They unleashed their deadly weapons, exploding mines on the way toward the air shafts of the facility, while other orais pushed past them, plasma shotguns in their hands, barking deadly discharges at the enemies.
Few people would call wolfkins elegant. While some, like Carty or the deceased Kalaisa, aimed for stealth and precision strikes, most wolfkins, however, fought with controlled aggression behind them. They rend foes asunder with their claws, tear them aside, or bite them when needed. They resembled dancers in comparison to Orais soldiers, who crushed into enemy ranks with raw aggression. The orais didn't care about efficiency, they didn't care about not slamming into their comrades, and they didn't care about dignity. All they cared about was the foe before them. Kill, move on to the next, stomp the still moving body beneath steel feet, and keep moving forward. Orais only allowed ranged weapons to members of their clan, after those members had first survived in melee combat for long enough. Dragena put a ban on this condition, pulling her rank, bullying thug masters into submission, and forcing all orais to use ranged weapons on this night. The result was... impressive, as a torrent of ranged fire melted the rows of machines before them, while a howling mass of orais moved forward. The orais formed a wall of fire in front of them, charging forward in still-exploding missiles, allowing their power armor to keep them safe while they pummeled the bots ahead of them.