The sounds of battle could be heard throughout the valley, followed closely by the screams and warcries of men and women as both sides waged a brutal battle in the distance. Joining such voices was one of a young blonde haired officer who looked no more than twenty-six years old even with the starting of stubble that grew across his face and jaw. Though his blue eyes were showing the fierce determination he had locked in mind as he continued to order his soldiers about, directing them in the most efficient manner possible, trying to form some desperate measure to win the battle they fought. However the battle was not going as he had wanted as they were nothing more than a poorly equipped and trained group of rebel soldiers fighting against a massive force of disciplined and brainwashed soldiers whose sole purpose in this battle was to destroy their foes. The rebel officer was out gunned, outnumbered, and his own troops defences were crumbling from the sheer onslaught of automatic weapons fire with the added boost being their RPG’s. All in all the whole situation was turning against the young officer whose body creaked and groaned as exhaustion began its brutal process of telling his brain it needed rest. He didn’t care though as he continued to fire down range, his arms shaking under the sheer weight of his assault rifle, which was now being held up by the mound of dirt that had once been a sandbag protecting the troopers within the trench.
“Fuck! Keep firing! Don’t let up, we have them on the ropes!” The young man barked, his voice ragged and coarse after yelling and barking orders for the past few days straight.
An array of “Sir!” was soon followed, as they tried in some small way to keep up their own spirits but fooling themselves that they’re commander was correct. But as the enemy attack continued to smash into their defences it became harder and harder to do, more so as the automated defence turrets began to get taken out by rocket fire, erupting in wave of fire and debris which quickly turned to shrapnel that rained down on both sides.
“Colonel Damion, sir! We can’t hold on much longer anymo-” A soldier cried in protest before a suddenly smack across the back of his helmet quickly silenced him.
“Stow that shit Private, and focus your fire!” growled another young man of twenty-five who looked as if he was actually in his thirties given how his dark beard, bald head, and gruff voice did well to give off the aura of a man well into his thirties.
The private nodded his head in reply, shaking his fear away for a moment in time to re-focus his blurring vision to return fire once more, “R-right, thank you Sergeant!” He yelped in reply before shooting off a few rounds.
The sergeant then turned his attention to his commander and friend who continued to fire down at their encroaching foes. Slowly, he began to make his way towards the young Colonel, ensuring that he was low enough to avoid getting pinned in the head by a stray round, before finally coming to crouch down beside his commanding officer.
“He’s right you know… We can’t keep this up.” The NCO said grimly as he brought his C-7 up and over the trench line before popping off two rounds.
Damion paused a moment, keeping his eyes on the approaching forces he sighed some, “I know Dylan… I know…” his reply came softly and silently before he adjusted his right shoulder again and joined his friend in firing off another volley of rounds.
Dylan frowned slightly in annoyance, though not at Damion, but rather whole situation unfolding around them. “… they’re not coming… are they?”
His question quickly saw to both of them stopping, as Damion shook his head, “I don’t know… but given how bad the situation is all over the damn place, I can’t imagine they’re going to send us shit…” Letting out a small sigh he twisted about and sank down low behind the trench wall for a moment, “… That orders they gave me were to hold this spot at all costs, even if it meant the death of the entire regiment.” Damion sighed lightly, his piercing blue eyes looking almost empty, before shaking his head, and popping in a new magazine.
“Fucking hell…” Dylan cursed under his breath as he continued to fire down range once more.
Both men continued to fight, knowing full well that the chances of them getting out of this were impossible… as the enemy continued to grow ever closer as the minutes continued to count down. Soon Damion found running on empty as he fired off the last round from his C-7, which prompted him to curse softly under his breath before he began to pat his vest for any remaining clips.
Frowning now, Damion paused knowing how truly fucked he truly was now. “I’m dry… All I have left to use against those bastards down there is my sword, and this rifle…” He stated aloud to Smith who too gave the same sour face.
“Same… and judging by the sounds of gunfire vanishing on our side… I’d say there’s a fairly high chance everyone else is as well.” Dylan replied softly before flashing a small smile, “But hey, nothing saying we can’t take a few of the shits out with a good old bayonet charge if worse gets to worse. Remember sir, even a cornered rat can be deadly.”
Damion sighed lightly and shook his head lightly in reply, giving Dylan a small smile, “True enough, and if this is to be our last moment… well I’m sure as hell glad I’m going to go out fighting beside by brothers and sisters… Not many commanders get to serve with such fine men and women, let alone fight beside them!” He announced aloud for all his troops to hear; or at least the ones close by.
Some gave small nods or a sarcastic wave in reply, which in turn did well to raise up their spirits overall as the unit began to take into account was sure to come. Turning once more towards the encroaching thralls, Damion bit his bottom lip in annoyance, knowing he had only mere minutes to prepare the remainder of his forces for one last ditch effort to try and halt the enemy advance… but he also knew that this would more than likely be their final action… or at least so he thought until suddenly a new sound came booming into the slim valley.
Quickly turning up and looking into the smoke filled skies, what he saw brought tears of joy from his otherwise near dry eyes. “Those are our jets…” he stuttered softly in surprise, before he watched the first Wing come sweeping down across the battlefield dropping and raining down a mix of bombs and chain gun fire that made short work out of a surprised enemy force who could do little more than let out cries of panic as the first Wing flew off. Soon though even much of that soon vanished as the second and third Wings of the Squadron quickly swept in, taking out even more of the enemy. Soon the once proud and organised troopers were now turned into a mob of panicked people all running for safety.
Damion slumped down to his knees in pure exhaustion, a beaming smile now across his face… “We survived… WE WON!!” He cried out in a joyous cheer, tears of joy streaming down his dirty pale face.
He wasn’t the only one cheering and or crying either, as the surviving members of his regiment quickly joined in the cheer, each man and woman basically falling about or slumping in this place as the exhaustion hit them like a tonne of bricks upon seeing the sight of destroyed tanks, and enemy dead littering the battlefield rather than their own. They had won the battle, and as the radio waves returned once more, a general announcement could also be heard that announced that the war had also been won. The North American Union had succeeded in earning its independence from the corrupt Pacific Alliance… And it was all thanks in part due to the apparent heroics of a single regiment of Infantry, and a small Squadron of M1-Abram tanks… the very units which Damion had led…
--
It had been nearly 10 days since the battle of Niagara Valley (So named after Niagara River was dammed up some time ago), and Damion had still be walking around in an weakened state, having fought as hard and as long as he and his unit had… it was not really surprising, more so given what they were up against initially. So as he stood at attention alongside now Warrant Officer Dylan Smith, and his brother Captain Evan Kitsure (who had also fought in the battle, but within the confines of a tank), he found himself a little confused and lost, more so as the President of the North American Union slipped around his neck the highest award for combat Valour, The Medal of Honour. It was all still a blur to him… he and well over ten men and woman from those who had fought in the battle were being awarded with the prestigious medal, all in front of the new Government Capital that was at one point had also served as the former capital of the United States. After the award ceremony, a number of other events had also followed… more medal awards, this time in his former homeland of what was once Canada, followed closely by more speeches, photo ops, and interviews. All of it had turned out to only exhaust him further due to how he was flown all across the North American continent with the survivors of his unit. Finally… the final award and meeting had come, this time in the form of a private meeting between him, the President, and the Commander of the NAU’s Armed Forces, General William Anderson.
“I have to say Colonel, I’m impressed how you’re still in one peace after all you’ve gone through in the past year.” The President stated with warm regards as he gestured for Damion to take a seat.
As he entered the oval office, dressed in his full dress kit he quickly went about doing as was offered and found a place on one of the must comfy chairs he had ever sat on.
“Holy hell~” The chair was freaking awesome, given how it basically shot a wave of relaxation shooting through him as he sank into his seat, his head falling forward, before suddenly blackness…
SLAP!
Damion was quickly woken up by a suddenly slap to the head, given by none other than the General himself who chuckled softly in his gruff voice.
“Wah! AH… sorry sir… I’m… yeah, I’m not really sure how I’m even still alive either to be honest with you.” He slurred as he shook his the sleep from his tired eyes. “Though if I had to say anything… luck I guess?” As the words left his lips, he rubbed the back of his head, before running his hand through his medium length hair, trying to once more keep it styled as neatly as possible.
The two older men in the room just smiled before they looked over at each other, “Well, I can’t deny, that luck would seem to be the most fitting excuse to explain you being here… or well… maybe it’s the opposite when you see what me and the General here have in mind for you… General Kitsure.” The President replied slowly.
The blonde just sat there for a moment, the sleep still kicking his ass… well that was until he heard the new rank being put in front of his surname. “General?... Fuuuccckkkk~” he thought to himself, as a frown soon grew across his handsome face.
“Umm… Why am I being promoted… again to a rank I don’t have the age nor experience necessary for?” He asked, his question directed to both men in the room.
The General raised his hand towards the President, letting him know he’d answer this. “To be honest with you Mr. Kitsure… you’re one of our more… well… successful officers.”
“You mean one of the surviving ones?” Damion replied quickly.
The general nodded somberly, “Yeah… As much as it pains me to put more responsibility on your shoulders… you and many of those who survived from your previous command are more or less our more experienced and hardened veterans.”
Damion scratched the back of his head, before folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah, and over half of those men and women are now retired, and I don’t think ANY of them are going to come back, no matter how much you beg and plead for them to return…” He stated bluntly.
“… would’ve joined them too if I didn’t need a stable career…” Damion whispered under his breath.
William coughed lightly, indicating he heard that little statement, before moving on, “Well, at the moment that’s not an issue we’re concerned with at the moment, more so with the war being over and all.” He continued, before being cut off by the President, who took a seat behind his large oak desk.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“But~, that doesn’t mean we can’t be prepared for the future, and from what we’ve been hearing… the possibilities of a NAU-PA war might very well be sooner than we’d like.”
Damion slowly raised his head, before his eyes narrowed in on the President’s. “What do you mean, sooner than we’d like? Are you suggesting those bastards are still hung up on trying to take over North American? Even with the European Union breathing down their necks on the Western front?”
The President simply nodded in reply before waving his hand, signaling the General to display something. “Correct, and sadly… the future war won’t be the traditional sort either. Rather, it will more than likely be something that seems from a horror movie.” And no sooner had he finished, the General pulled out a small folder from the side of the desk before passing it over to Damion.
Quickly picking it up and opening the cream coloured folder his eyes were quickly met with the title, ‘Hell summoning.’ Automatically, Damion let out a small chuckle. “You can’t be serious?” He said, looking over at the two smiling. “Hell summoning? What type of research are they doing over there?” Though as he continued to read more on the actual research he felt a cold shiver run down his spin.
The ability to summon creatures, and demons from different mythologies to fight in the mortal plain. It seemed impossible to believe, more so to a man who didn’t even really consider such things as factual or true. Needless to say he quickly began to read into the subject matter, taking into account everything that he could try to use to debunk all this crazy shit, sadly everything seemed flawless, more so as he saw the images displaying images of demons standing in a lab standing tall beside some research whose face was hidden behind a surgical mask. Damion couldn’t believe his eyes, let alone the feeling of fear that began to well up inside his stomach.
“Believe me Kitsure, we were just as shocked as you were…” William stated as he took a seat across from Damion.
Wide-eyed and fear struck he couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Y-yeah… this is some… well…”
“Fucked up shit?” The President finished for him. “We know General… But, we have a way to prevent such creatures from occupying our recently liberated nation… that is to say, we’re making our own unit of unique soldiers with the abilities that should help level the playing field in our favour.” He continued, before pressing a button on his phone, “Bring him in please Lieutenant.”
And soon another figure walked into the room, adding a four to the large oval office. Though this figure was neither a soldier, nor a politician… rather a scientist, and one Damion had seen and known before some years ago.
“Izumi?...” Damion found himself saying in a surprised tone as his eyes narrowed in on the woman standing at the entrance way, giving much the same surprised look as he was.
“D- no… I… I thought you were… no, it can’t be.” Izumi stuttered, her voice breaking up before tears started to flow from her eyes before she suddenly jumped onto Damion, damn near crying. “I thought I lost you! T- they said you were dead!” She sobbed softly burying her face into Damion’s chest.
Damion quickly wrapped his arms around Izumi, his own eyes beginning to tear up. “No, I’m still here for you love… I’m so so sorry…” He replied gently, before kissing running his hands through her long jet black hair and kissing the top of her head.
William coughed lightly, trying to bring attention to the fact they weren’t the only ones in the room. “I see you two know each other?”
Damion nodded in reply, “Mhm… she’s my wife…” He replied softly before pausing slightly, “Well… ex-wife. We were divorced during the war due to her parents not wanting to be associated with someone fighting for the rebel government… Though I tried my best to keep in contact before the Pacific Alliance cut off all outside communication for North America.” As he finished, he once more pressed his lips against the top of Izumi’s head. “I missed you so much Izumi…”
Both the President and General smiled lightly before the President took a breath in before speaking, “Well, I’m happy we could reconnect another citizen with their loved one. But… sadly I’ll have to ask you both to save any further catching up for later. Right now we have to get back on the matter at hand, which is to say, the good doctor’s research.” He said, before motioning for Izumi to return to business.
Izumi, nodded in reply as she wiped away her tears of joy, before standing up. “I’m sorry… Just… yeah. Getting back to business… Umm, so as the President and General have more than likely told you Damion, the Pacific Alliance has been working on some incredibly creepy shit as of late. Which… sadly I’ve had the displeasure of being a part of during my time with the team who had actually developed the tools and rituals required to summon these beasts to our domain.” Izumi confessed as he grabbed a remote off of the President’s desk and clicked on the buttons which saw a screen unfold up from the oak desk before displaying some new files.
“Now… Having seen the horrors these creatures have been wracking all across the Alliance had me afraid for the future. More so after Mr. Alexander refused to step down from his position as President of the Alliance, and going so far as to announce himself as the only leader the alliance would need…” She continued before directing everyone’s attention to the monitor. “So, I took a page from my husband’s book and joined the only side that knew how the Alliance operated. Upon my arrival two months ago, I quickly began to work with the North American government to develop a new tool to defend against these… ‘demons’… But sadly-“
“But sadly we’ve hadn’t managed to create a defence… rather, we instead made a new weapon.” The General interrupted as he stood up once more. “Sorry Doctor… but I think I should be the one to fill in the next bits… I know how much you disagreed with us in making this new weapon.” He said softly, taking the remote from Izumi’s hands which quickly turned to fists before she visibly calmed down upon sitting down beside Damion, who had to fight the urge to hold her in his arms once more.
Clearing his throat with a powerful cough the old general quickly moved on. “Now, that’s where you come in Brigadier General Kitsure. You’re going to be the man who commands this new unit that will be specially trained to use this new weapon in our future fight against the Alliance. And… this is the tool of your new trade.” As he spoke he quickly brought up an image of a small hand held orb containing some sort of miasma or smoke within it. “These orbs act as a gate way to the mythological realms… essentially, the moment you and your troops come into contact with the orb, you’re consciousness will be transferred to ‘their’ realm, and from there you’ll come in contact with the beast, demon, angel, or whatever other mythological figure that is someone best relatable to you.. basically you’ll be making a contract with one of these figures to gain abilities and skills that far surpass what a human can do.”
Damion quickly jumped in as he raised his hand for a moment, “Excuse me sir, but, what!? You both are throwing a lot at me here, and I’m still in shock that you’d both actually promote a twenty eight year old man to such a high rank! It’s already bad enough I was fast tracked through to the rank of Colonel, but General? And now this!? Don’t we have someone else to do all this shit? I mean… I don’t think I qualify for such a Command, let alone come in contact with some sort of mythological being.”
The grey haired general William just sighed lightly before returning to his former seat. “As I told you before Kitsure… you and your unit were just about the last ones to hold a senior rank through combat field promotions. Plus you have more combat experience, and have lead an entire base during times of war… well… that and you’re just about the last senior officer we have left to assign to this post, with most of our other Generals, Admirals, and Air Marshals having to command and reorganise the armed forces all around the continent we have no one else to spare, plus as you are the only senior officer who doesn’t currently hold any command since your entire unit was virtually decimated through both combat and with over half of the survivors retiring shortly thereafter the war and award ceremonies.” His reply came gently as he crossed his leg over is other and leaned back against chair. “So… really you have no choice in this matter Kitsure. Plus seeing how you’re a ‘war hero’ it stood to reason that we should pick you to lead this new unit.”
Damion just sat there wide-eyed and shocked at what he had just heard, he was getting all this forced onto him last minute, all because he was the last one they could look to? It was all bullshit in his mind, but he couldn’t say or do anything to change their minds at this point, so slumping his shoulders he agreed. “Yes… sir.”
“Good. Now then, YOU and Doctor Izumi will both be expected to report to the Pantheon in two days’ time. From there you will be expected to go through a screening process to determine who’ll work best within the Order.” The General finished before tapping on the folder set out on the table. “Inside you’ll find all the details on where to go and what to expect. Any further questions General Kiture?”
Damion sighed lightly as his mind began to flood thoughts of how absurd this all sounded and how the unit and base were named… it’s almost as if the new government enjoyed making this shit… but he had already been fairly insubordinate enough during this whole meeting so, he knew he couldn’t voice his thoughts on the matter, but there was one thing he DID want to know though, and bring up. “So, I take it I can bring in ANYONE I want into this unit? Even retired members from my old command?” He asked, as he picked the folder up and rested it on his lap.
Both men raised a brow curious for a moment before the General spoke up, “Yes, I don’t see why not… if you can somehow convince them to re-enlist.”
Damion suddenly grinned as a name quickly came to mind, “Do I have the full authority to give them what they need in order to get them to join?”
The President replied this time, scratching his head, “Well given the dangers that come with this new post, you will be granted further funding outside of the norm to help in better establishing your command.” As he finished Damion suddenly stood up and gave both men a stiff salute before turning to Izumi with a smile.
“Thank you sir’s!” And with that he quickly about faced and made his way to the door before stopping and opening the door for Izumi to exit first, who couldn’t help but laugh having an idea who he was going to bring in. The former Warrant Officer, Dylan “Bull” Smith.
As both Damion and Izumi left, and the door closed firmly behind them, both men sat in silence for a moment before looking over at each other.
“… I feel sorry for Mr. Kitsure… he’s gone through a lot already, and now we’re basically throwing him back into the fires of hell, and this time literally… are you sure we didn’t have anyone else to give this new command to?” The President asked, his voice echoing his worry.
“No one as qualified as he… you heard what that deity said... he’ll only bond with the best we have to offer, and Damion Kiture IS the best we have to offer. He’s the youngest senior officer we’ve ever had in damn near a hundred years, and what’s more he’s also the most successful, so no… we don’t have anyone else we can give such a task to. After all… the god of war and sky only wants the best and the best he shall have.” And with that he ended the conversation as he stood up pouring himself a glass of scotch.
The President merely remained silent, nodding his head before twisting his chair around to view the reddening skies as the sun began to set.