There is a saying “history is doomed to repeat itself.”
Many thought that the arrival of the antithesis would render this saying obsolete, but surprisingly not.
Even with an alien invasion humans are still human.
-history textbook 2045
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The tour guide, like all the other underpaid and undereducated workers at this “historical site” were full of shit. This bunker complex was just 30 years old, a mash of various styles throughout American history, and overall had no real historical value itself. It still was though a treasure trove of cool artifacts for a war history nut like me though.
The bunkers and trenches were also pretty cool as well. Made to capture the feel with actual wood reinforced walls, the bunkers clearly having been made of tough concrete, and more.
It was the closest one could get to a world war 1 and 2 bunker and trench line in America. Even with its inaccuracies like heavy duty alloy pillars in the bunkers to reinforce them it was still very nice overall and managed to capture the feel of it all.
As a bonus it was mostly ad and sponsor free since it was the love child (and dick compensation method) of a stupidly rich CEO from one of the private arms companies. It was a place to house and show off his collection of actually real and functional stuff from the world wars AND get a tax write off on top of it all. Most people don’t know it, but these kinda places are the best since the cooler the stuff and the less the ads the bigger it makes the owner look.
So yeah, most of the building is pretty much “rule of cool” but it’s fun in its own way. Besides, where else am I going to see some fully functional M1A1 brownings that just need a belt of “fun” to be working again? Honestly tempted to pay to get a few shots off if it wasn’t so stupidly expensive.
I let out a sigh and walked over to a case full of ww1 beauties that, while frankly abhorrently mixed up, was still amazing. A trench made gear mace from an American trooper, a fully restored german stahlhelm with the extra armor on the front, and some other cool items mixed in. I couldn’t help but wonder what would win, that nasty makeshift mace or the hardened steel helmet.
My credits we-
INCURSION ALERT.
Fuck.
Fuckity fuck SHIT.
I look up and see the massive slabs of fuck-everything falling from the sky and coming down HOT. The nice thing about living in the NOVA spires was the military companies loved building close to DC for easy access to politicians which meant LOTS of cool military toys were currently being shot at the bad-times-balls coming down hot.
The not so good thing was most samurai tended to fuck-off to get AWAY from said companies and politicians meaning that what was slamming into the incursion was JUST government military grade hardware with some higher end private stuff.
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Meaning powerful, but not good enough to wipe them out in the air.
“EVERYONE TO THE VAULT!” Some of the workers called out trying to keep the tourists in line as they were led to the location’s vault. I could see it just down the hall as well deep in the bunker, and it was a NICE one. Huge door, lots of room, and buried underground to blend in with the bunkers.
I also saw workers desperately trying to get the painted over mechanisms to work.
I took a deep breath waiting for the crowd piling in too thin before I tried to go into that clusterfuck. Last thing I wanted was to be trampled getting in or stuck in the back with them unable to close the door. I’d take my chances out here rather than be packaged up ‘thesis chow thank-you.
At least there was time, they were just-
A lady next to me screamed and pointed down the hall. I didn’t need to look to know incursion + screaming = BAD THING. I needed a weapon. Something. ANY thing!
Wait.
Old things are things!
I clenched my teeth and lifted up my right arm before slamming my trench coat covered elbow into the case feeling the cheap glass shattering. My thick coat protected my arm from the glass as I grabbed the metal antique brain basher and turned to see what plant I needed to whack.
Sure enough there was one of those fugly four legged doggy model whatevers down the hall. It was looking right at me over the sobbing body of some guy frantically trying to crawl away with the dude’s leg dangling from its mouth. No longer attached to said poor bastard of course. Seems like my move got its attention for a moment.
A moment was all I needed.
“Oi! You ugly four legged freaky fucking fern! COME ON!” I yelled out as I started to jog at the thing bringing the metal mace up and a little to the side. Sure enough the thing started to run at me, leaving its prior victim behind.
Good.
Like hell I was going to let ANYONE get hurt as long as I could fight.
I summoned all the knowledge gained from hours in mesh re-enactments as I swung my metal mace down and to the left, letting the weight of the thing do the work for me. A shiver ran up my spine as the metal spikes made from welded on gears slammed into the thing’s head, then into it. I could feel the resistance of whatever “skull” it had giving way to old school human ingenuity.
The model freak slammed into the ground with the mace flattening its head splattering alien brains and blood everywhere with a satisfying crunch. Another one hiding behind a door lunged at me only to be met with a backswing slamming it into the wall making a splat that would make Jackson pollock proud with a percussive crunch I deeply wished I had recorded. Would have made for preeeem ASMR later.
I looked around to make sure there was no other antis about and to see where everyone was. I could see workers dragging the man with a fresh tourniquet on his leg into the vault with everyone else lined up to get into the vault.
A vault that was still jammed.
I looked at the mace, the dead antithesis, and down the hall.
Fuck.
It.
I grabbed the helmet and put it on my head, then tied my trench coat up to give me some sort of protection before standing in the middle of the hall, mace at the ready. The people behind me needed time and it was clear I was the only poor bastard that had some fight in him.
“Retreat? Hell, I just got here.”
I chuckled a bit and shook my head as those words left my mouth. It was my time to shine but all I had in me was old war quotes. That, and a drive to finally do something.
“Well Dan Daly, seems this son of a bitch doesn’t want to live forever.” I growled to myself as another antithesis dog started to run down the hall. Was I talking about the thing in front of me or myself? Fuck if I knew. I just knew I was going to give the people behind me as much time to get in that vault and shut the door as I could.
That meant holding the line.