CHAPTER 8
THE RED ZONE
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“You got a perfect score in airborne. HALO and HAHO. Extra points as a rigger. You can even be perfect at wingsuit fyling. How did you do that?” A woman radioed.
“Valoran has a good compatibility with the wind.”
“Oh, that's also why you guys are so good at shooting?”
“Affirmative. We are born as natural hunters.”
At the edge of a savanna, waiting for his prey, Varg hid in a ghillie suit. His eyes starred sharply while his nose, ears, and skin felt the air to measure the wind's direction. He fingered the Pindad-made SS3 that had been zeroed at 300 meters. Holding his breath, he pulled the trigger.
Bang!
A 7.62x51mm projectile spun rapidly at a poor sword-horned deer from hundreds of meters away. It traveled at twice the speed of sound and pushed molecules in the air that could be felt by its shooter. As a race-born archer, Varg had always admired firearms. Particularly a battle rifle, it had a minimum muzzle velocity of ten times the arrow speed of any skilled archer. The future king of Valora always challenged himself to learn every single detail that was considered for normal humans. He always learned to predict where the bullet would land, gauging balistic factors such as the wind direction, gravity, humidity, and angular momentum of the bullet's spin.
Elves and rifles were soul mates.
Crash!
“Bulleyes!” The woman's voice sounded cheerful over the radio. From 200 meters away, a Cervinax died when its skull was pierced by a M160-108.5-grain NATO frangible bullet, which disintegrated and left a mark at the point of impact.
The hunt games were a hard-core shooting practice to sharpen his designated marksmanship. Since enlisting in the military three years ago, Varg had mastered all kinds of modern weaponry and explosives, which was complemented by his natural abilities as an elf. His score would be hard for a normal human to follow. Except for a handful of elite operators who had left their limitations.
“You said that your accuracy is based on magic, isn't.”
“Affirmative.”
“How can you do that? Walkers can't use their powers on Earth, though. There's no magic here.”
Varg did not answer immediately. He took another look at the target in front of him using binoculars, confirming the death of twenty-five Cervinaxs. “Elves and humans both use magic. But the source of our power is different. If walkers use mana, we use prana.” He answered while leaving a hideout.
“What's the difference?”
“Mana is the blessing of the gods that channelled through the air. I mean, Ethereal gods. Those couch potatoes won't go anywhere. Whereas prana is the spirit of nature. I can get it from the soil, plants, rivers—you name it. The amount is extremely small, though. Your planet is dying.”
There was silence for a moment. Varg glanced at the drone, which flew back and forth to check the results. The female officer communicated from afar with a drone as her eyes and a radio as her ears and mouth. It had been six months since she had been assigned to keep an eye out for a handsome sergeant.
“So, you are physically stronger than normal human because your prana, aren't you?”
“Negative. The prana here is too small to consistently supplement my strength. I honed my body normal ways. Working out. Don't lump me with lazy-assed walkers out there.”
***
Chilling, cleaning blood's mark and stain, the prince bathed in the river where sunshine was refected. A 60-day hardcore survival drill had been completed. All the military education he had done had become more brevets in his uniform. Varg satisfied feeling could be seen in his green pupils, which were reflected on the water surface, as well as his silver hair, which grew back because there was no hair polish. The only part that looked bad were his ears, which were cut and stitched.
“You're a real hunk, Sergeant.” A woman spoke from behind.
“I am.”
Captain Nadine, a Special Operation Tactical Communication, laid relaxedly on the hammock while looking at a man who had just washed himself. She wasn't affected much as Varg casually walked away from the river naked, nonchalantly wearing his pants, while a woman watched him. Drinking a young coconut, the 37-year-old officer acted like a tourist. Her appearance was too casual. She wore middle-length camo shorts, a tanktop, sunglasses, and flip-flops. Her military style had gone somewhere on the last day of Varg's survival training.
“Living together with you in small hut was a real hell. Why didn't you touch me?”
“I'm a soldier, ma'am. And Valoran like me is a nature-loving species. I know which flowers have dangerous vines and thorns.”
“I though you were interested in me.”
“Affirmative. You're hot.
“How hot?”
”The hottest women in this secluded island.”
“Asshole.”
Varg didn't bother to wear his shirt. Half naked, he showed various tattoos and scars, which were quite numerous. There was a wolf face tattoo and leaves on his back, as well as on his chest and upper arm. There was also a snake tattoo wrapped around a coin on his forearm that attracted Captain Nadine's attention.
“So, inking is your custom, huh?”
“Yeah. Every single Valoran has a spirit animal and an elemental trait. They have to be inked to our skin.”
“Yours?”
“The dark wolf and gold viper.”
The hot-looking captain scanned Varg's tattoos, which looked so exotic, eventually nodding like an antique appraiser. Her interaction was too friendly, despite their gaps in rank. She put on her eyeglasses while the handsome man dealt with a monster carcass. “Treat me like a queen, Pretty boy. I'm hungry.”
“Queen my ass.”
“Language, Sergeant. I'm your boss. You're my subordinate.”
“And your subordinate got more money than you.” Varg pointed at piles of energy crystal and monster's by products. “$311,783. Twenty times your annual salary.”
“Gimme some.”
“Negative, Ma'am. I will give it to women I can sleep with.”
“What a jerk!”
Using dozens of plastic bottles as a DIY solar distiller, Varg collected clean water. He also picked up some wild cassava that he found on the side of the road. After gathering wild vegetables and spices, he lit the bonfire. Varg grilled the meats like the island was his backyard. He used his stupid Cold War-era steel helmet to stew cassava because there weren't any cooking tools available. Smelling the dishes the prince cooked, Captain Nadine got out of her hammock.
“You're so good at cooking.”
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“I told you, Ma'am. Cooking was the first skill I learned on earth.”
“You said your race are vegan. Didn't you?”
“I'm a bit special.”
Their vacation came to an end when they saw the patrol boat docked. Several soldiers arrived and formed a perimeter. Some of them looked surprised when they saw a strange couple were too relaxed in an hardcore training. Not to mention various merchandise from the monsters' bodies Varg had collected. Any soldier would know how much it was worth.
“Are you sure, Sergeant?” They were even more surprised when Varg thoughtlessly divided 20% of his booty into their wages. The prince wasn't a cheapskate for his fellow soldiers. Captain Nadine, meanwhile, looked shocked because she was the only one who got nothing.
“Huh? Why? C'mon? Are you hate me that bad?”
“We did nothing, Ma'am. I'm a bit stingy to women.”
“Marry me! And let's me take all your money!”
“Negative, ma'am. I'd rather sleep in jail.”
***
Surabaya Downtown
Strolling down the road to a military base, Varg laid back in the passenger's seat. His eyes stayed glued to the book while Captain Nadine drove the jeep. Special training had been done. The prince enjoyed his vacation, although his superior kept pouting all day long.
“Stop acting like a girl. Was $5,000 not enough?”
“Gimme more. I've been with you for a year. I tell you. A fuckin' year! Gimme more!”
“I've not even kissed you yet. Just drive for me for another bucks.”
Women and money were thick as thieves. Captain Nadine seemed in such a bad mood after she got a tiny part of the loot. Her way of driving was like that of a wife who caught her husband cheating. To make matters worse, in 2030, Surabaya was always hot. And many rude people drove their wheels like lunatics. Captain Nadine was pissed off and opened the jeep's window.
Whack!
“Obey the rules, Asshole! We're late!” She smashed helmet of motorist who illegally overtaking. “How the fuck did you get your license, huh? Move over you bitch!”
“Gotta kick that habit, ma'am.” The prince giggled.
After being trapped by traffic, the military jeep entered the most quiet place in the city of the heroes. There were no jams or drivers cursing along the way. The area was literally a dead town, an eerie place with only old buildings abandoned by their owners. Some had even become rubble. No one dared visit the place except military personnel and some random content creators.
“Are you sure you're going back to your world?”
“Gonna miss me?”
Captain Nadine rolled her eyes at his narcissistic remarks. “Brigadier General Jimmy asked me to keep an eye on you. I mean it. You were a real warrior if you could control your lust. Stop tainting the armed forces.”
“Said a sinecure who lost herself over money.”
“You've been accepted to the DOME. One step away from you freedom.” She nonchalantly changed the subject when her greed was brought up.
“Will I be busy after this?”
“If you stayed on earth, you would. The DOME is an international joint force under United Nations of Ethereal Management and Security. You will be sent to small nations that have no proper armed force to protect themselves from monsters. Well, in special cases, you will be dispatched to any dangerous portal break. You will be treated as PMC, though.”
Leaving the dead town, there was nothing to be seen but ruins and a wide, dry landscape. Captain Nadine stepped on the gas pedal when she saw a long wall in the distance. There was a blurry silhouette of a 200-meter-tall tower behind it. The Ethereal Tower, a strange building that connected the earth with the other world, was the reason for the government to build the red zone.
“What do DOME members do when they are off duty?” Varg continued the convo when the tower was closer and closer.
“For human-like personnel like you, they blend in with society. With special ID, of course. But for the monster-like personnel, they live on their national respective base.”
“So, I have to work as a regular soldier?”
“Isn't it obvious, Sergeant Sukma Diki?” Captain Nadine addressed Varg with his embarrassing human name.
A mile-long concrete wall was clearly visible in the distance. A barbed-wire gate came into view as the wall got closer. The tower had been strictly controlled by the army, with dozens of soldiers standing guard. And all of them were armed to the teeth.
After passing through the first checkpoint, their Jeep entered Sector 4. It was an area with tents as far as the eye could see. The view was not much different from refugee camps in conflict-ridden countries. There were also the ruins of buildings that had been attacked in the past. Watching the liveliness of Sector 4, Captain Nadine could not hold her smile.
“Thanks to you, the immigrants were no longer malnourished. And you have made the Indonesian Armed Forces the only ones who are able to extract crystal.”
Varg didn't answer. His emerald eyes rolled to the scenery in Sector 4, watching over hundreds of thousands of immigrants whom the army protected. All of them were non-human. To be precise, Ethereal creatures, which were categorized as intelligence subject by the United Nations of Ethereal Management and Security.
“Gimme food, kiikk! I'm hungry!” An immigrant yelled with a box-shaped aluminum plates in its hands.
Tent dwellers came out one by one. The first ones were small green creatures less than one meter tall. They were goblins, a fantasy-like creature whose intelligence was almost equivalent to that of a 10-year-old kid. They lined up in the kitchen tent to eat their lunch. There were also orcs, kobolds, beastmen, harpies, and centaurs living in harmony in Sector 4.
Varg smiled in awe. They were lucky to have come to earth. In Ethereal, they were treated as pests by humans. Walkers saw them as a bunch of exp to level up. They would be killed in their world.
The question is, how they came to earth?
***
It was a gloomy time for humanity 25 years ago. Portals had appeared all over the world. Hundreds of millions killed within weeks of the arrival of numerous types of monsters. The tragedy persisted even after the military was sent in, and the explanation was simple. The monsters were difficult to track down since they were so dispersed.
What happened afterwards?
Two months had passed since catastrophe. Something unusual occurred. Massive structures were rising up all across the world. Initially, humanity was terrified. They were relieved, though, when they realized the tower's role was to draw portals like a magnet, making it easier to mitigate monster that were before everywhere.
From then on, all governments in the world built the Red Zone.
And from then on, fantasy creatures were just a neighbor away.
Sector 1, Surabaya Red Zone
“Use single shots! Save your bullets!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
An infantry lieutenant stood amid the soldiers. Hundreds of meters in front of them, monsters were being barraged with various types of ammunition. The smallest one was 7.62x51mm. Some soldiers used 12.7 mm bullets to dispatch the larger ones.
“Second wave! Second wave! Big guys incoming! Bring 40mm!”
Rows of cannons turned slowly along the border wall. They were Bofors AG L/70 cannons that had previously served with the Air Defense Unit. However, field artillery was now using it to strike at larger targets.
“Fire!”
Boom!
The monster died on the spot with a big hole in their head.
Those creatures were, at their core, biological beings. Modern weaponry, designed to penetrate steel armor, could easily penetrate their skin. Even Cold War antiques were too powerful. As they fired at the beasts, the soldiers remained unfazed. All of those large beasts were too feeble to stand up to a variety of low-cost arsenals.
“Third wave! Third wave! Bipedal reptiles! Shoot the head! Don't use cannons! Shoot the head! Don't damage carcass!”
“Freedom!”
This time, their opponents were crocodile-like monsters on two legs. The reptiles attempted to fight back using some sort of spear. They ran from the portal to the closest perimeter, only to get shredded by a hail of 7.62x51mm caliber bullets.
“Easy Peasy Lemon Juicy,” said a M134D operator.
Leaving behind various sizes of monster carcasses, the gunfire stopped as the dome disappeared. There were wolf-like monsters lying around. There were sharp-toothed ducks, bipedal reptiles, and bison-like creatures with bodies as big as buses. All of them were dead, except for some dog-headed creatures that walked on two legs.
“Hold your fire! Capture them alive!”
The dog-headed creatures, kobolds, compactly prostrated to show a body language of surrender. They were so submissive. Modern weapons had given them fear to the bone. They could do nothing but sound their dog-like crying when soldiers approached with their guns.
“Call the translator!”
The kobolds were surprised when they saw another dog-headed creature wearing a similar outfit with scary human soldiers. They were, obviously, older-generation kobolds who had come to earth. They formally worked with the army. They asked the new guys to put their hands behind their backs, cuffed them up, and escorted them to the immigration counter. It was an initial process to become a resident of Sector 4.
“Is everyone there?” asked a lieutenant.
“Wufffo! Affirmative, Sir!”
The lieutenant smiled. Satisfied by the kobold's work, he gave him a Royal Canin.