“There was another angel in the seventh heaven, different in appearance from all the others, and of frightful mien. His height was so great, it would have taken five hundred years to cover a distance equal to it, and from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet he was studded with glaring eyes, at the sight of which the beholder fell prostrate in awe. "This one," said Metatron, addressing Moses, "is Samael, who takes the soul away from man." "Whither goes he now?" asked Moses, and Metatron replied, "To fetch the soul of job the pious." Thereupon Moses prayed to God in these words, "O may it be Thy will, my God and the God of my fathers, not to let me fall into the hands of this angel."
-Zohar
Prologue 1: They finally found me....
--2158 January 25th--
The 707 finally landed, at the Tehran-Mehrban International airport. It was well after midnight and the A bitter chill air hung in the atmosphere, making our breath quite visible in the bright-lit cargo hold.
The team were exasperated, the dark circles clearly visible under their eyes. Their face were pale and coupled with the circles made them somewhat zombie-like in appearance. They were flying for the past 36 hours well over the cautious limits of civil aviation abused all the more by the nature of their seating. Holed in the cargo section of a passenger flight.
They plane landed with a heavy thump on the landing strip and a communal sigh reverberated across the team. They showed an expression of relief as they stood up and dusted themselves off. The nature of their mission didn't allow for a military plane to be seen landing in the Iranian lands.
I looked up at my fellow passengers and shared their collective tiredness. I gestured them to walk through to the opening door, turning the large handle and slowly stepping outside.
We removed our oxygen masks, to be greeted by the thick fetid smell of the cargo, forcing us cover our mouths, and it was everything they could do to not vomit as we stepped out. The aircraft was well and truly a relic of the past out-dated and only used by those who could not afford to take a more safe and technologically superior aeroplanes brought forth in the dawn of the 2.
This all the more increased the anonymity of the team as no one would suspect that the most skilled and powerful special-ops team of the US navy seals had smuggled themselves into foreign lands in the cargo hold of a Boeing 707 passenger plane.
We the 84th battalion of the US Navy Seals, Nemesis, the elite of the military were sent here on an assignment, a mission to eradicate the last remaining roots of the Aun-Woer Syndicate.
Aun-Woer Syndicate the most ruthless, malicious criminal organization in history, dabbling in everything from human trafficking, prostitution, to drug smuggling. Led by a man dubbed with the title “The 6th”. We were the last component of a large-scale operation, whose purpose thoroughly lied in the decimation of the Aun-Woer Syndicate. We were the executors of the mission.
“A long day, my friends,” I said by way of apology. It was my idea to smuggle ourselves like this, contrary to films it is not easy to travel by means of an Aeroplane cargo base.
“I swear to god Captain, we are never listening to you again,” smirked Lt. Rodriguez. Rolling her eyes at me.
“God willing, a long sleep to follow it,” Our sniper Lt. Kyle gestured waving his arm over his yawning mouth.
Followed by a mutual nod from the six of us.
Soon our escort arrived in the form of a large Medical Supply truck, and we were escorted to the mission head quarters.
“Erfan hospital”
A large burly man walked out of the hospital and quickly escorted us to the top floor to brief us on the mission. The man had short-cropped hair and bulging muscles that were clearly stretching the suit he was wearing to its utmost limits. I recognised him as the Chief military officer of the Iranian army, Salim Aziz. Under pitch-black darkness we went into the hospital to be briefed.
The hospital was just a cover for the real operation of eradicating the Aur-Woen, It provided them with anonymity and the security was airtight so even if an Aur- Woen spy were to enter they would not suspect a thing.
The Iranian army ran this facility. The doctors were military physicians, and the orderlies all men with battlefield experience. Security was tight, as one would expect. My team and the director had cleared security on the first floor, however, and the guard at the post touched the buttons to open the doors into the air lock.
These opened with a hiss of hydraulics to reveal a second set, and they could see that smoke from one of my team member’s cigar was sucked into the secure area. The soldier gave a mean glance at Lt. Hoffman, obviously disapproving of his smoking.
Hoffman our heavy gunner, with a smirk took out a new Cuban cigar this time and started lighting it. Hoffman wasn't one for rules; his baldhead and large tattoos was more than enough to scare an ordinary soldier.
“I would advice against that Mr. Hoffman.” The chief’s accented voice resounded.
“This facility needs to be completely clean for a small mishap would result in another Pupa incident,” Chief Salim said. His voice full of pressure and managed to convey the severity of the situation.
The air system was working properly. The very lives of everyone here depended on the exact performance of every subsystem here. The inner doors would not open unless the outer ones were locked tight. The director activated them, and we proceeded.
After going through more than 20 different levels with tighter security following each, we finally arrived at the top floor where the Chief’s office was located. It was considerably spacious, with a big symbol of the ‘Unity Creed’ on its back wall.
The Unity Creed was formed on the aftermath of the Pupa virus, and was created to not let another incident like that occur again.
Soon after the outbreak of the deadly virus 100 year ago almost all the wars across the world had stopped. People found it hard to care about such things when the virus struck.
I found it ironic that a large-scale apocalyptic genocide was the only thing that finally bought the world together.
That was the effect of the Pupa virus.
“I am glad you have arrived Captain, the situation with the Aur-Woen has gotten worse. Our last black op spy has gotten us the sample of new virus they are developing. It is all that remains of his legacy now; he was tortured and killed soon after delivering this to us.” The chief exclaimed. His hands trembling with anger at the mention of the death.
“After all the shit we went through 100 years ago, I would think humanity needs a break, but these assholes don't know when to stop!” he scoffed, his eyes full of rage.
He swiftly opened a large silver briefcase, containing nothing but a small glass vial of the virus.
The fluid surprisingly horrid in colour. Deep scarlet with a hint of brown.
“We have monitored the process with small samples under an electron microscope. The human kidneys exposed to the infected blood were composed of discrete and highly specialized cells, and for whatever reason, this virus loves those cells. Consumes it to no end.” Chief gestured and a large holographic display blazed on the top of his desk. A 3D model of the virus entering a human bloodstream was shown. With the black infection penetrating deep within the small cells.
It had been both fascinating and horrifying to watch. The micron-sized virus strands touched the cells, penetrated them and started to replicate in the warm, rich biosphere. It was like something from a science-fiction movie, but quite real. This virus, like all the others, was only equivocally alive.
It reminded me of the videos depicting the horror of the Pupa virus of 100 years ago. The virus ravaged the entire world sending it into utter chaos, causing more than 1/3 of the population to fall. The situation was all the more made worse by the religious extremists branding the said virus as the act of god who had sent his wrath upon us.
They were the once who dubbed the virus, “Pupa”. A sick metaphor that the virus was going to rid the world of evil and bring forth a new age. Like a butterfly emerging from the Pupa. Born anew.
The multiplication process was a microcosm of the disease process in a human community. It started slowly, then accelerated geometrically--the faster it went, the deadlier it became: 2-4-16-856-95,536--until all of the people in a community were eaten up and only virus strands remained, then the virus went dormant and awaited its next opportunity.
People applied all manner of false images to disease. Calling it the descent of one of the horseman of the apocalypse, Plague.
It would lie in wait for its chance; it would kill without mercy; it would seek out victims. All of that was anthropomorphic rubbish. It didn't think. It didn't do anything overly malevolent.
All Pupa did was to eat and reproduce and go back to its dormant state. But as a computer is only a collection of electrical switches, which can only distinguish between the numerals 1 and 0; the pupa could only distinguish between life and death. When it was in threat f death, it ate. Nothing more, nothing les.
But it did so more rapidly and efficiently than anything humanity had ever faced. Pupa was supremely well adapted and could reproduce so rapidly that the human body's immune system, ordinarily a ruthlessly effective defence mechanism, was simply overwhelmed, as though by an army of carnivorous ants.
In that lay Pupa’s historic ruthlessness. It was too efficient. It killed too fast. Its survival mechanism within the human host also tended to kill the host before it could pass the disease along sometimes. It was also super- adapted to every specific ecosystem. For this reason, and since it could not survive in a human host without killing that host in ten days or less, it had also evolved slowly--without taking the next evolutionary step of becoming airborne, and it rapidly destroyed humanity.
It had not become airborne, that was the sole reason humanity still remained.
50 years after the outbreak 6 young scientists cracked its genetic code to the molecular level and developed a cure. The general populous was not aware that the cure was developed by a group of young researchers and was lead to believe the government developed it instead.
Only a select few knew this information.
“This is the new Pupa variant that Aur-Woen is developing, although a prototype, it contains more power and deadliness than the first. This one when exposed to the atmosphere immediately becomes gaseous.” The chief exclaimed!
Everyone was dead silent.
A Pupa variant that could be spread by aerosol would be catastrophically deadly. It was the worst-case nightmare scenario.
This was the new strain, as repeated microscopy had established, and that strain was suspected to be capable of aerosol transmission. A new strain already implied it was more deadly but being able to become airborne was basically an Armageddon level threat.
Hearing this my team visibly scared backed away from the vial. Their brows trickling with sweat.
“Don't worry I wouldn't be holding it out if I was not 100% sure it wouldn't escape.” Chief Aziz sighed.
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“Chief how do we stop this…” I said, my heart beating extremely loudly.
All the fatigue of the previous flight disappearing. We are again, extremely close to yet another extinction level threat. My mind flashed back to the images my father showed me as a child. Telling me how I have the responsibility to protect the world from such an event from ever transpiring again. He said it was our family’s responsibility to protect the world from such threats.
He would explain to me the terror, the absolutely horrifying fear of not knowing if you will ever open your eyes if you once close them.
“Captain this is a SSS level classified United Creed secret, it cannot get out to the public. If anyone got wind of the fact that we have a developed vial of an advanced level Pupa virus. We will be in big trouble.”
“Luckily we have established that with our repeated attacks ‘6th’ is now cornered in Iran,” Chief Salim exclaimed.
“Are we sure it has not already mass produced?” Lt. Rodriguez asked.
“Yes our Intel is extremely sure that this is the only prototype of the virus. We are sure that due to the nature of preparation that is needed to make the virus, not another has been made.” Salim went on.
“Nemesis, your mission is to completely annihilate everything in the facility and blow up the place using the “MTX 09” Explosives.”
We looked at each other. Nodding our heads. “MTX 09” was an explosive developed by the united creed when they were sure that they could not cure the virus. They would send these bombs to small communities across the globe with high concentration of the Pupa virus 70 years ago. They would mask these explosion attacks as terrorism when in fact it was the United Creed’s method of containing the virus, which at that point seemed impossible to cure.
Although inhumane, it was a necessary evil.
This yet was another secret the public was not aware of.
…
Later that night…
I sat on the side of my bed, clutching a small picture depicting a happy family, with a beautiful wife, a handsome husband and two small girls. Each had the most beautiful smile plastered on their face. I choked back tears as I reflected on how much I was missing right at this moment.
My children’s small but significant steps in life. From walking for the first time, to their first words. I was missing all of that. They were 14 and 12 this year, and the fact that I hadn’t seen them in months was eating me away.
I was the captain of the most dangerous team in all of the American military.
That came with strings.
It meant that I would be part of the most deadly missions in the world. Every night before a mission I would look at this picture, steeling my resolve to know that I needed to comeback to my family.
I vowed to myself that this was my last mission.
I soon went to sleep knowing full well that tomorrow was not going to be easy.
…
I started to get dressed. Nothing I did from the moment I started putting on my pants was random.
Every step was carefully planned.
I was thorough with everything, I rechecked, and even double-checked. This method was a way of focusing my brain for the mission.
These were the same steps I did before every mission.
I slid my pants on and checked the contents of each of the pockets, in the military cargos pants.
In one cargo pocket, I had my assault gloves and leather mitts for fast roping. The other cargo pocket had an assortment of extra batteries, an energy gel that was made for military requirements in the advent of the 22nd century. It could provide enough energy to survive for almost a month, just on one bar. My right ankle pocket had an extra tourniquet and my left one had rubber gloves and my SSE kit.
In a pocket on my left shoulder, I felt the $200 cash I’d use if we got compromised and I needed to buy a ride or bribe someone. Evasion takes money, and few things work better than American cash.
I tucked my shirt in and picked up my kit and inspected it again. The Kevlar plates covered my vital organs in the front and back. I had two radios mounted on either side of the front plate. Between the radios, I carried three magazines for my H&K 4000 assault rifle, with a silencer and high penetration ammo cache, and one molecular fragmentation hand grenade.
I also had several chemical lights rigged to the front of my vest, including the infrared version that can only be seen using night vision. We’d crack the plastic lights and throw them in front of rooms and areas that we had cleared.
The lights were invisible to the naked eye, but my teammates could see them through their night vision and know what areas were secure.
…
The explosion sent a shock wave that blew a hole in the gate. Lt. Rodriguez was the first through, kicking and pulling the scorched metal wider so we could fit. Guys quickly started to pile through and peel off toward their planned objectives.
We entered thinking to find a dingy compound with a chemicals being fiddled with under extremely horrid conditions. But what we encountered was a high-tech underground research facility. The entirety was lit up with bright white lights and there were numerous people of all ethnicities, wearing white lab coats.
My mind shifted looking at each of them. Their hands were slowly reaching for the guns in their holster.
With out warning we pressed the triggers and riddled and each and every being in the facility with holes. The scene was a rain of blood. We showed no mercy killing anything that dare cross our path. We knew exactly how cruel these people could be. The only thing we had against them was the surprise attack and by the time they reacted it was all too late.
“Captain this is much smaller than we expected. We have a few too many explosives...” Lt Kyle snickered.
His family had died in a terrorist attack by the Aur-Woen so he had no qualms at all about killing all these people. In fact I think he was somewhat enjoying it.
“Install them anyway we need everything here decimated.” I replied.
The mission was moving quickly now. It had probably been about five minutes since we hit the ground, and now the Iranian army were swarming the compound. At least two charges had blown and, coupled with the helicopters, we knew they had heard us coming. Without a doubt, we figured the occupants of the compound would now be prepared to defend themselves.
I took the MTX 09 and set the charges on the doorknob to the adjacent room. I always knelt while I placed breaching charges because I had been shot at through the door in Iraq many times. Fighters liked to spray the middle of the door, blindly firing where they thought a man would be standing.
The third member of my team entered the compound. He was one of the last guys out of the helicopter and had just gotten to us. His job was to clear a staircase that led to the roof of the headquarters. As he started toward the stairs, which were directly in line with the door, AK-90 rounds tore through the glass above the door, narrowly missing him.
I too rolled away as bullets started to spray through the door I was attaching the explosive to. I could feel pieces of glass flying towards me and through the force itself small chunks of it embedded in my Kevlar Kraton bulletproof vest.
It was easy to tell that it was not friendly fire as we were using suppressed rounds. I grimaced, as I knew that our element of surprise was gone.
The door detonated and a large amount of smoke was blocking my view. I soon could see faint outlines of a boy from my night vision goggles and slowly backed away. I could hear a cry of a small girl as well.
That dint means we were safe if this was a hoax and someone was coming out with a suicide vest on, we were dead. I indicated a sign with my hand telling my team to back away.
This was the “6th’s” compound. These were his people so we knew they were willing to die for him. One thing we knew from our Intel was that the syndicate treated each other extremely well and revered the “6th” as though he were a god.
Through the sweat running down my face and the grit in my eyes from the rotor wash, I could just make out the figure of a boy in the green glow of my night vision goggles. He had something swaddled in his arms and my finger slowly started applying pressure to my trigger. I could see our lasers dancing around his head. It would only take a split second to end his life if he was holding a bomb.
“He isn’t here... don't shoot.” A boy’s voice called out. The voice low and quaint but everyone of us could distinctly hear it. A small girl was tightly holding onto his leg, sobbing uncontrollably.
As I kept walking towards him I saw that the bundle had no explosive, but I could see thick red blood oozing out of the cloth swaddling the item. The boy was someone we had never seen before.
Through the intelligence, we had assembled from many spies; we knew every one of the personnel that worked here. We even acquired a thorough layout of the whole enterprise. That's why we were so confident to shoot everyone, as we were well aware of how atrocious these people were.
There was no knowledge of who this boy was. He held the swaddled item in his left hand while holding an AK-90 in the other. While a small girl was holding onto his leg.
He had the gun pointed at us, but I could tell he wasn't willing to shoot. The boy was not wearing a shirt and only had a tattered black pants on him. His body was riddled with scars. His chest had deep wounds in the shapes of lashes while all around his body there were injuries resembling everything from knife wounds to guns.
My whole team gasped when they saw they state at which the boy was in. The kid no older than 17 to have such scars that would send, even the most hardened of my group a tingle down their spine.
His head of thick brown hair was swaying over his eyes and I could hear frantic breathing. He was not able to stand up straight and I soon noticed that his body had many knife wounds that were leaking fresh crimson blood.
The boy then gently stroked the top of the girl’s head and she eventually calmed down.
“Who are you…” I asked.
The boy gave no reply before looking up at our team and scanning the area with his eyes. He seemed to not be fazed at the state of his injuries, and was frantically searching for something or someone in our team.
“I am looking for captain Demidov!!” he yelled.
How did he know my name?
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Hey guys been a while aye...
I have a solid reason for the month long hiatus but it is agin family matters so id rather not bore u with it. I am going to be taking a break from writing xianxia for a lil bit and try a new genre. I recently read Riddick and some novels by Yintian and decided to change my story a lil bit for Avalon. So might need time to incorporate that.
Hope you guys like the new fic. PLEASE msg me if anyone has an idea of how i should do stats and tables for the fic will be greatly appreciated.
P.s. Gonna do Harem this time :D