Year 2030, January 10th
A human clad in standard UN military attire gazed at the sight of a collapsing black pillar in the distance. Howling winds kicked up the tattered cloth hanging from him.
The source of this upheaval was likely caused by the explosion detonating just a ways a way, working to crumble and remove the black tower.
Each fluttering piece of cloth of his attire made the man seem like an eerie spirit on this barren battlefield, where weapons of pure chaos and slaughter had been used en masse.
The need for such firepower by the military was evident, the sheer size of what he was looking at made it apparent, the black pillar’s girthy peak was standing tall over the horizon. It darkened the sky gray with its pitch hue. He had been marching towards it for ages, fighting his way through the horrors that came pouring out from over that black horizon.
At the tip of the towering black pillar was once a shining 4-pointed black star, it radiated a disgusting energy that attracted and corrupted those around it. Humans unable to resist its alluring energy became beasts and those beasts became something worse. Forced to put them down, the human could still see his dead comrades when he closed his eyes.
I had to do it, it was necessary to win the war.
He was convincing himself and gritted back the tears that welled in his eyes. When half of the black tower finally collapsed, cheers of victory rang out across these expansive lands, once known as the Big Island of Hawaii.
It had been the center point of the largest disaster and the final battlefield to end the war. The man could hear it over the horizon and on distant battlefields to his east and west.
Lush greenery was a common staple sight among here, along with the volcanic rock and other pretty spectacles for a tourist's eyes.
But all of it was gone, reduced to rubble, flattened to an unearthly equilibrium. Nothing was left here, nothing of real worth, except for that accursed hole the human knew was just on the horizon.
He had seen it before and had peered down into it. It was a pit that seemed to drop straight into the very earth’s core, but no one could tell if that was true or not.
The human should be celebrating like his fellow comrades in the distance, but he couldn’t.
Was this really a victory, was this even real? Just how many had to die for this to end? A thousand? Hundred thousand? Millions? The full count was yet to be taken, but… this war…this damnable war….was finally over, after 30 years, 30 long dreadfully bloodstained…. years.
Or so his cheering comrades thought. At the man’s side, a blue gloved hand rested on the pauldron of his equipment’s armored plate.
“Is it really over?” The human asked, his tone knowing of the truth.
The owner of the comforting hand only shook his head, his white spiky hair swaying in the wind.
“I’m afraid not, we still have work to do. He’s calling us, so let’s not keep him waiting.”
“May I have a few moments? To remember them and everyone else?”
The human pulled up his golden visor on his helmet and looked down to take out a set of dog tags from his pocket. The name was burned off so it likely wasn’t his own since no sane person would do that to their own means of identification.
No, this was a comrade’s dog tags and it held much meaning to both men who stood as comrades in this horrible field of war.
“Go ahead. Take as much time as you need. I’ll be here, waiting.”
Such a comforting tone from the white haired man who stood stead fast behind the human, it was like they had been friends for more than just years, maybe even decades but they both looked to be in the prime of their lives.
The human, who then raised the dog tags to the sky, mumbled what could be reasoned was a remembrance or apology to the deceased. The human ended his recollections of his dead friends with one word.
“Victory.” And that was all.
Finishing his little remembrance, the human followed his white-haired comrade and leapt up to the approaching transport copter. The jump was of an inhuman height, but the pilots didn’t mind it, and the same for the soldiers inside.
Looking around, the two noticed that it was an American Osprey, or what used to be an American Osprey. It still had its twin engines and rotor design, allowing for vertical takeoff, but the appearance no longer had the chic and new finish on its surface.
The vehicle was aged, as if it had gone through a battle with a bear or something with fangs that could sink its jaw into its reinforced metal frame.
Inside, the nearest soldier reached a hand out and he pulled the opening lever, assisting the two up who were dangling from whatever hand hold they could grip onto the side of the vehicle. Settling them into seats of their own in this flying contraption, they began to chatter.
“So how was your end?” One of the soldiers asked the pair.
“Not good.” The white-haired man said plainly. “We took too many casualties and lost the big guy.”
“Really? I thought he’d never die, jeez, his wife is going to be pissed.” While the soldier’s comment was uncalled for and could be argued to be inconsiderate, no one argued his words.
They knew very well of the big guy’s character and his past as well, they’d dare not feel sad about his death since he’d probably sock them in the face for showing weakness.
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Passing the time to their destination, the fellows inside bantered about, comparing the number of kills between them or the total hours they survived in combat.
A morbid subject, but it was the only thing on their minds. The white-haired man was talkative and welcoming, but the human with the gold visored helmet only furrowed his brow as he held tight to the big guy’s dog tags.
The white-haired man allowed his comrade to brood in silence, he knew very well of his character since they have lived through this hellish war together for so long, heck this gold visored guy had probably held the most time served.
But by the time the once noon sun was beginning to dip down a quarter way to the horizon, making the start of evening, the transport copter stopped, hovering over its destination. A void of black surrounded them below and the gray sky above being their own other means of a comforting color.
“Prepare for first drop! Copy!”
“We copy.”
Everyone inside the passenger section of the flying vehicle confirmed over the radio devices stuck to their equipment. Getting into position, they stood up and confidently slid the transport copter’s doors open.
“Your mission is to establish the beach head. Take out all hostiles and report back. Do not return unless all objectives are cleared, this is an order from command.”
In their heads, everyone in the group scoffed since they knew this was an idiotic mission. The war was supposed to be over, yet now they were told to clean up the last of the mess for those sitting back at base. But none of them cared, feeling no hatred for those cowardly people.
They looked beneath them, an expansive hole that looked to be hundreds of miles long was before their eyes. The transport copter had flown over the expanse for a couple hours, but even still, the ground they covered likely didn’t even reach the center of this behemoth of a hole. At best, they were at the lip of it and while not a straight shot down, it was better than crash landing in this copter due to a lack of fuel.
Knocking their helmets and other metal like devices, the soldiers drew a breath. Today, they were going to be making history and be the first on record. Without hesitation, the human with the gold visor shut the front plate of his helmet and spoke over the radio, not even spooked by the black abyss below him.
“Taking point, follow me in.”
His blunt tone was met with a resounding roger from all his comrades, pushing confidence into their human hearts. With it, he hopped off the copter's edge with no fear or emotion on his face. He felt gravity’s pulling forces take him straight down. The others joined him, exiting the copter in very original or flamboyant ways.
Some made the peace sign to the sky while others flipped the bird in the direction where the black tower once stood. Many others did a flip, and some leaned into a free fall, as if accepting death, or was it madness?
If any normal person saw this, then they’d think these soldiers were insane, especially since none of them had parachutes. The pilots thought so too, but knew that this group wasn’t normal, or maybe not even human at all. As the white-haired man waved and jumped off the Osprey, the pilot turned this radio channel over to a private frequency.
“Drop Off Complete! Returning to Point Lima for Refueling!”
“Good Work! 2nd squad is incoming for drop, so clear out!”
“Roger!”
Pulling the drive stick along, the pilot turned the transport copter around just in time to see more copters of the same make on approach. By the end of daylight, over 100 squads had dropped into the pit becoming the first explorers of what would be called and known worldwide as the largest recorded star depth in human history.
Wind, all the soldiers could feel was wind whipping across their bodies. Of 100 squads of 7 to 14 men, they all in total, give or take a little more or less, counted a thousand strong. But likely less now because the surrounding darkness had taken a few to their early graves.
Many colored visors with built-in lighting equipment shone in the darkness but those that turned them on were immediately snuffed out as easily as a candle’s light would be in a hurricane. Picking up on that, the man with the gold-colored visor didn’t touch his light switch and instead let his senses guide him.
Prickling sensations like sharp needles pressing gently on his skin annoyed him. Even through his tattered equipment it made him groan in pain, the sensation was too unusual to bear without staying silent.
“This really sucks.”
“I know, right?”
“When we get back, remind me to punch the guy who ordered this suicide mission.”
“Noted, and save some for me.”
Others who were falling beside him commented on this over the radio. Everyone was in a bad mood, no one wanted to be on clean up duty, especially if that clean up meant certain death.
“Enough!” The man with the golden visor said. “Let’s just get this done.”
“Touched a nerve? Did I? Are you sour about something?”
“Don’t press your luck rookie.” The white-haired man said but looked over to his gold visored friend. “He’s right though, what’s got you agitated.” Caring for his mental wellbeing, the white-haired man moved over to him in free fall and tapped his back.
“I don’t care for talk.” The white-haired man sighed, knowing he’d say that the white-haired man was about to—-
But his words never escaped his lips since his gold visored friend spoke again. Sensors on his visor’s HUD pinged and his heads-up display blinked a rapid red dot.
“CONTACT! DEAD AHEAD! DETECTING MASSIVE ENERGY SIGNATURES! PREPARE FOR ENGAGEMENT!”
His golden visor shining, he drove down to meet the enemy and at the white-haired man’s command, the remaining estimated 1000 soldiers in freefall readied themselves.
“YOU HEARD HIM! HOP TWO AND DON’T FUCKING DIE!” His friendly demeanor changing, the white-haired man powered his suit system up. Behind, not one of the remaining hundreds of soldiers faltered at the encroaching cold darkness around them, instead they felt at home here. A few had nothing in their hands, only their bodies poised to fight.
Some were equipped with shields, swords, bows, or other kinds of non-modern equipment. Many more were carrying rocket launchers, machine guns, and vests filled with explosives.
They all knew that this was going to be a hard fight, a battle that many of them knew they weren’t coming back from. But they had volunteered for the program and had to follow orders. Hundreds of glimmering eyes glared down at the pit, like shooting stars pushing through the veil of the dark and empty space. What glared back were millions of otherworldly shaped eyes, giving off haunted hues never seen before.
“SIR! REPORTING IN!”
The commander turned to his second, swiveling in his comfortable leather chair in his command post. He was the farthest from the battle, the place he knew he belonged due to his prideful intelligence.
“GOOD! WHAT IS THE STATUS OF THE TEAMS!”
“50% are lost and the number of casualties is rising. What are your orders?”
Putting a hand to the black tie of his suit, the commander only worried about how he looked. He had a press conference to go to, to declare his victorious strategy.
“None, continue as planned.”
“But sir?” His second questioned if this was right. “Shouldn’t we send aid to our comrades? They’re fighting for us as we speak! To truly end this!”
These words fell on deaf ears, and the commander only turned away in his seat. It creaked under his belly’s heft. “Exactly, good riddance and all that. Now! Get back to your station, this is an order!” It was a heartless act, but the commander knew what he was doing. This was for humankind, and he couldn’t let those “things” come back up to the surface, where the real humans lived and breathed.
“Die with honor, you abnormal abominations.”