-[Green Rook]: “Pour Sino bastards. At least a good chunk of the yanks got to retreat. Goddamn massacre over there.”
-[Red Bishop]: “So I can see Rook.”
-[Green Rook]: “... And?”
-[Red Bishop]: “And?”
-[Green Rook]: “Do you think we should have warned them? Jump in to help?”
-[Red Bishop]: “My role is to do, not think. To follow orders, Something you would do to remember grüner turm, given your role. Anything less is treason.”
-[Green Rook]: “Right. Don't get your panties in a twist mate, I'm merely asking what your thoughts are on the current situation mate. Putting out feelers as the Americans say.”
-[Red Rook]: “Hm. I sense your trepidations. However, like any flock, they require a shepard, but they are wild, unwieldy, and unworthy of our guidance as they are. This way, the King's way, will cull the herd and ultimately save more lives.”
-[Green Rook]: “If you say so mate.”
Recorded Audio Transcribed.
AM Chapter 3/B: Emergence Day
In a cubby beneath a stairwell that served as his room, Isaac, under the dim light of a lamp, stared at the floating words in front of him.
Name: Isaac Carter
Level: 1
HP: 100/100
MP: 50/50
CLASS: [Selection Available]
Free Points: 5
STRENGTH: 10
VITALITY: 10
SENSE: 13
DEXTERITY: 12
ARCANA: 5
EGO: 15
[Traits: Blessing of The Black King]
[Skills: None]
“What the fuck…” Isaac whispered, attempting to wrap his head around the floating screen.
He reached up, tapping the screen, the interface shockingly similar to his HUD implant down to the font. The only difference was, there was a feel to it. An actual texture that was hard to the touch.
This is exactly like an RPG.
Isaac narrowed his eyes, his finger sliding down and tapping the [Selection Available]
[Class Options]-
-[Unique] Black Shield: With conjured shield in hand, you protect what is dear to you even at the cost of your body and soul]-
“Wait… that's it?” Isaac muttered, eyeing the only class available to him. Wasn't he supposed to have options? Choices? And what was this blessing of the Black King?
Isaac frowned, remembering the bald man on the rooftop.
Was he the black king? Was this some test? A sick joke?
“Fucking asshole,” Isaac said, tapping on the class, a notification asking him to confirm whether or not he wanted the class.
Isaac hesitated, finger hovering over the icon.
What the hell am I even doing?
*BEEP! BEEP!”
Isaac's head snapped to the left, his alarm clock reading 6PM, time for him to prepare dinner.
Out of the crawlspace of the stairwell, Isaac made his way to the kitchen, a quant space of checkered tiles, cooking appliances, and kitchen tools that was his and his alone.
Spices, canned goods, and cooking utensils littered the walls, perhaps the most expensive things Isaac actually owned besides his suit and his gun.
Isaac reached out, grabbing a pot, a box of uncooked noodles and a jar of sauce. Simple ingredients for spaghetti with meatballs in the freezer he had prepared beforehand.
“Spaghetti?” Lily asked, the thirteen year old gazing at her brother expectantly.
“Yup,” Isaac replied, boiling a pot of water. “You know one day you'll have to cook for yourself. Your big brother won't always be around.”
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“Then I'll just starve I guess. Your spagets da best fr fr.” Lily replied, taking out her gamepad and sitting at the diner table.
“Oh? Is that so?” Isaac smirked, opening the fridge, his eyes going wide as he spied a frozen envelope stuck to a package of meatballs.
“Shit,” Isaac reached out, snatching the envelope and immediately attempting to rip it up after making sure his sister was engrossed with her video games.
Of course, the nature of the envelope was… insidious. A farewell to his family and instructions for his sister on how to cook his much-loved spaghetti.
“What's up?” Lily called out, looking up at Isaac with his back turned.
“Ah, nothing! Just this package got’s too much ice on it,” Isaac said before opening the nearby trash can and disposing of the ripped-up shards. “Here, ya wanna give it a go?”
Lily playfully rolled her eyes, grabbing the plastic container of meatballs and popping it's lid off.
“Wow. Guerilla girl,” Isaac teased, taking the container with a slight smile. "Maybe I outta bring you to the zoo."
“Shut up! I'm not a guerilla!” Lily yelled, kicking her older brother in the shins before running off.
“Hey! I’ve got sensitive shins! What would you do if you’d broken them?!” Isaac called out before turning back to the stove with a smile on his face.
That smile didn't last long.
There was something in the air. Something that seemed to kiss his skin and make every hair on his body stand on end.
A primordial sensation seemed to take root, stabbing at his gut and blossoming out, a feeling that was akin to….
Fear.
Isaac's hands began to tremble, his mind wavering as his breathing began to escalate along with a tingling akin to sparks dancing across his skin.
“Isaac?”
Something was wrong. A feeling similiar to tar fell upon Isaac's skin, almost like oil that made him feel unclean. Actually, when he focused, it felt as if the ground was… shaking? Or was he?
“Isaaaaac?”
Isaac's eye twitched involuntarily, every pore seeming to itch with-
“ISAAC!” Lily screamed. “The water!”
“Huh? Oh! Oh shit!” Isaac let out, turning the heat down and stirring the black pot quickly that was beginning to boil over.
“Are you ok?” Lily asked, the girl looking up at Isaac.
Isaac reached down, ruffling his sister’s hair. “Yeah, don't worry about me. Your big brother is fine. Everything will be fine. Let's-”
Mid-speech, Isaac's world suddenly shifted, cutting off his sentence with a deafening boom as everything around him collapsed.
****
1840 Hundred Hours.
Germany, Stuttgart
Afri-COM HQ
Colonel Agatha Thorn:
****
Within the Tactical Operations Center of the US Africa Command Center, a woman of medium build, blonde hair, and tall stature wrapped in American ARMY officer's garb narrowed her pessimistic green eyes.
In front of her was a 30 by 30 foot segmented monitor, each screen broadcasting what could only be described as horrific.
“Bring up monitor 33 and blow it up AINS.” Colonel Thorn ordered, tapping her red lips.
“Yes ma'am.” The Artificial Intelligence Network System replied in its monotonous voice, shifting the monitors to display an image of a humanoid monstrocity.
“What… the fuck…” A nearby technician let out, his face of shock and horror mirroring the dozens of others within the command center.
On the screen, was a creature close to 10 feet tall, a monster made of bulging red muscles, black feathers, and a face that was akin to a roided out pigeon.
Around it, lay the dessicated corpses of a dozen good men. American men. Strewn about alongside raging flames, military vehicles, and beasts of all sizes that resembled monsters from a child's nightmare.
The image zoomed out, showcasing a black torrent of bodies that swarmed the landscape of Africa.
“There's millions of them…” Lieutenant Kishmere, her adjutant muttered in shock before cleaning her throat as an elderly man entered the command room.
“Attention!” Thorn barked, calling the room to rise as General Andor Smith entered.
“At ease,” General Smith spat, the 61-year-old grey-haired man still spry despite his age. “Alright, bring me up to speed. What are we dealing with, Colonel?”
“Sir, an unidentified threat has emerged out of Khartoun, Sudan.”
“Unidentified? It's not Chinese? Not some kind of new bio-mechanical machine?” Smith asked, adjusting his glasses and eyeing the monsters on display.
“We aren't sure sir,” Thorn replied, signaling AINS, the AI shifting the main monitor to display a map of Africa split between two colors.
Red, for the Chinese.
And Blue for the Union.
“Within the hour, massive detonations broke out across the African continent, resulting in a ripple effect by way of multiple category 9 earthquakes and tsunamis that have reached even the Us East Coast.”
“Nukes?”
“No sir. NORAD detected no launches and the impact zones were within both Chinese and ours,” Thorn reported, the image on the main monitor shifting into dozens of screens and displaying battles on various fronts. “The attack was devastating, but the explosions were only a prelude to-”
“Our new friends.” General Smith said, nodding to the monstrosities on screen.
“Yes sir. The caveat is that they're hostile to both us and the Chinese, however their numbers… AINS.”
“Yes ma'am,” The AI said, changing the map of red and blue to include a massive black spot that was growing rapidly. Too rapidly.
It had originated from Sudan, but already it was taking over Egypt, Libya, Ethiopia, Chad, Uganda, and Zaire. There were smaller dots too, a black spot growing rapidly out of South Africa and Mali.
Smith blinked in rapid succession, “You said within the hour. Are you sure this module is correct?”
“Yes sir. AINS has been running models since they cropped up on our radar. Their numbers are… for lack of a better word, endless. However they give off a unique energy signature, allowing AINS to track the largest groups with relative ease” Thorn reported, the screen shifting to various battles. “Artillery, cannon fire, and even a direct blast from the USS In Auburn Spirit’s EPC cannon failed to make a dent in their numbers.”
“Jesus Christ…” Smith muttered as a video of the swarm moved unabated under a translucent barrier shielding them from the airship’s barrage.
The In Auburn Spirit hovered above the swarm, firing missile barrages and opening up with both its main cannons and all 16 point defense guns.
However it was all ineffective before the hulking bird-faced creatures summoning forth barriers of energy that blocked the attacks from reaching their designated targets.
“This is the last video we have of the In Auburn Spirit before they released a MAYDAY call,” Thorn reported.
General Smith took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose as the 155m long aerial destroyer was brought down by an endless tide of nightmares that broke off from the horde surface-side to fly and swarm the aerial crusier.
“An hour…” General Smith muttered, mirroring the thoughts shared by everyone around him as darkness consumed the continent on screen, “Scramble all available QRF, alert CENT-COM, and get me someone on the ground!”