Prologue: The fuck?
Earth 2027
They came without warning. Creatures from the blackest reaches of space descended on the planet intent on devouring everything. The insectoid-cyborg amalgamations decimated Earth with sheer force of numbers. They clawed their way through cities eating everything, a horde of metal and cruelty. 'The Hive' that was the name given to them by the precious few survivors. Of these survivors were the 'Army Ants', a UN special forces group tasked with keeping the peace in Central Africa prior to the arrival.
The 'Army Ants' were part of a group of scavengers numbering approximately 70, that had made a home in the jungles of Cameroon, staying out of the onslaught of 'The Hive', but despite their impressive training their number had dropped to 2.
“Feels like we're just babysittin' civvies Jack” Whispered Larkin, the night air was cold and the pitch black jungle was unnaturally quiet. “We're the goddamn ants, we should be out there fighting”
“Shut the fuck up” Snarled Jack glaring into the darkness, something wasn't right, sure the jungle was usually quiet, but silent? Something was definitely coming. “Weapons hot” He stared down the sights of his AK, an oldie but there has never been a more reliable gun to him.
At the order Larkin tensed up for a moment before taking up a firing position and scanning the landscape. The dense brush obscured them and the darkness cloaked them but they felt exposed, leaves were pretty useless at stopping bullets after all. The silence that seemed ever-lasting was broken by the sound of stomping feet and voracious snarls. Jack and Larkin both knew what this meant, 'The Hive' was upon them. Larkin peered out of cover and saw them, the 8 foot monstrosities looked almost humanoid in shape, their chests and legs were almost entirely mechanical with bits of grey flesh poking through and their 4 arms were all systematically ripping at the foliage around them and greedily stuffing it in their mandibles. To them nothing wasn't food.
Larkin grimaced at the sight of them and his body trembled in fear.
“Fuck it...you go back and tell the group to get moving” grunted Jack reaching over and snatching Larkin's gun from his trembling hands, “I'll wait 30 secs and light em up”
“Ants don't fight alone” murmured Larkin, his voice betraying his now steadfast body, as he grabbed his gun back. “Them pricks'll run soon as we start shooting anyway.”
Jack smiled, if he was going to die anyway, he was glad to do it with his last remaining comrade. “Sergeant Gary Larkin... let's see who can kill more” he laughed taking aim.
“Captain Jack Eden, it'll be my pleasure to beat you one last time” Smirked Larkin glaring at the ever increasing horde.
Jack squeezed the trigger, a pair of bullets sped through the air before embedding themselves in the fleshy part of the target. Black blood squirted from its wounds before it fell to the ground. Larkin opened fire, sending a hail of bullets towards the ghastly creatures. As the insects hit the ground they were dragged back to be devoured by the rest of them, and larger stronger ones took their place. These bigger ones were almost all metal. A testament to their combat prowess as they were still living after replacing parts lost in prior battles. These hulking versions merely shrugged off the 7.62mm rounds bouncing off their armour and raised their own weapons. They possessed various alien firepower, ray guns and the like, but these clutched hulking Earth weapons ripped from vehicles. The one at the forefront, tanking the bullets, held a Gatling gun which began to spin up. The noise as it fired was monstrous, countless bullets tore through trees and the undergrowth before finally finding their mark in the 2 humans.
Larkin fell before Jack, his face had become a mangled mess of blood and gore, Jack then fell, he couldn't count the number of bullets that had torn his chest apart but he looked up at the night sky as he lay losing consciousness. His view of the stars was obscured by the blurry silhouette of the hulking creature that had killed him, but as his life drifted away he felt at peace, happy that his struggles were now over.
Suddenly light filled Jack's eyes, blinding light and deafening sounds filled his ears. After several moments of squinting and trying to get his mind straight his vision cleared. A large man was holding him and joyously laughing, proclaiming “A boy! It's a boy!”
Jack tilted his head down and saw his tiny arms, his pudgy little belly and pale useless legs. He looked over at a woman laying in a bed, panting and sweating profusely, his gaze then turned back to the man holding him. He was a portly man with a long beard and beady little eyes, his hands were adorned with expensive looking rings that scratched at Jack's bare skin, this man was obviously rich. The strangest thing to Jack however was the blood-red seagull perched atop the man's head glaring down at him.
“The Priestess...get the Priestess” Barked the large man. A slender elderly lady approached, closely followed by a regal looking cat and she snatched Jack from the man's hands. Her bony hands were worse than the rings but Jack was just too confused to care, his eyes darted back and forth between the man and the old lady. “What's his spirit? Is it something good?”
The old lady glared at Jack, her stare penetrating his very soul. She sighed and turned to the man, “I'm afraid it’s bad news, it appears that his spirit is an ant, you have my sincerest condolences, Lord Irons.” At this the man roared in anger, the woman on the bed burst into tears and the servants and doctors lining the room gasped in shock.
“A child of the Irons family with an ant!?” Bellowed Lord Orric Irons at Jack, “PREPOSTEROUS! He is no Irons, he is nought more than a failure. Esme! He is yours to do with as you will, he is a bug like you!” At this one of the servants hurriedly rushed forward and took Jack from the old lady's arms.
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“Yes my Lord” Esme answered, “What is his name? My lord”
“A failure like him deserves no name from me” Spat Irons.
Jack looked at the large man spitting insults at him and at the quiet young woman holding him tenderly, caressing his head. 'What. The. Fuck?' he thought.
Chapter 1.
“Shep! Dinner time!” roared Esme, her colossal voice betrayed her small frame. She stood in the doorway to the small wooden servants shack located at the bottom of the Irons estate's garden. Jack looked up from his prone position, this woman had served as his mother in this new land and had decided on the name Shepherd for him. He decided to never tell her of the life he had before his untimely death at the hands of the Hive, nor the fact that his mind was that of a 27 year old man. 2 years prior, at the tender age of 9, he had begun training his body, sculpting it into the machine-like warrior he had been before his death. 2 years of constant special forces training and he was nearing the limits of his 11 year old body. As sweat poured down his face he clamoured to his feet and wandered towards the beaming Esme. “Why do you do that boy?”
“If i'm gonna make it in life Esme, i'll need a strong body cos this ant's gonna do nothing to help” Shep replied pointing at the black ant perched on his shoulder.
“Call. Me. Mum!” Esme ordered slapping the back of his head.
Shep smiled warmly and squeezed his way past her into the small room. It was a bland place, 4 basic wood walls, a dirt floor, 2 straw filled scratchy beds and a rickety table with 2 sets of tin plates set upon it. Esme was a lowly 'between maid' of the Irons' household staff, this was due to her spirit being that of a centipede, which was currently coiled around her neck eyeing Shep as he knelt on the dirt in front of the table. Esme joined him and began picking at the meal of cold potatoes and crusty bread, as she ate her spirit scuttled onto the table and ran toward Shep. He was wolfing down the pitiful meal with gusto, after more than 10 years of eating this crap he was used to it. His ant crawled down his arm and leapt onto the table before making it's way over to the centipede and crawling onto its back. After he had gulped down the last bites Shep remained to watch the two creatures coexisting harmoniously, he had been shocked by many things in this world but none more than the existence of spirits which dictated one's place in the society.
Shep believed he had a good understanding of it and a good understanding of his own shitty situation. Spirit's were divided into several different classes, the greatest were the 'Ruler' class spirits, these creatures were possessed by the multitude of Kings and Emperors existing on this planet. In the Kingdom in which he resided, Alderin, the King owned a spirit called 'Mountain Tortoise' which was said to carry the palace upon it's back. The class below this was referred to as the 'Divine' spirit class, made up of legendary creatures said to have power akin to Gods, Shep knew only of one who had a spirit of this class: the eldest son of Orric Irons, Owen Irons possessing a Pheonix. Shep had never met his elder brother as he had been given the title Duke because of his divine status, but Orric had often mentioned him when berating Shep's lack of status. The final class reserved for the wealthy and powerful was referred too as the 'Mythic' class, the rest of the Irons family possessed spirits of this group. Orric Irons and his firebird (which to Shep still just looked like a red seagull, but was apparently a lesser form of Pheonix), Maryanne Irons, Shep's blood mother and her 'Orgax' (a black-scaled fish that supposedly allowed her to breath underwater) that always floated beside her, Orion Irons, Shep's detestable elder brother, who possessed a 'King Lion' (Just that, a large lion that the brat rode like a steed) and Mytha Irons, Orion's twin who possessed a 'King Tiger' (a white tiger that she also rode).
After these classes came the class of 'Common Spirits' these were the general populace, individuals with spirits of aggressive animals such as bears or wolves would generally take up a position focussing on violence, like mercenary, bandit or guard, those with spirits of other animals filled in the rest of the jobs. Below 'Common Spirits' was the final class, the people within this class were not usually seen as human, rather they were little more than beasts or slaves. This was the 'Dirt class', which was reserved for either those with bug spirits or the 'souless' (those who through some foul magic had had their spirits torn away from them, becoming little more than emotionless husks).
Shep and Esme were both 'dirt class', this was why Shep had been forbidden by his true father from showing hisself in company or ever leaving the estate, lest his silver hair give away his noble birth and embarrass the Irons family. It was for this reason, among others, that Shep abhorred the Irons family, his siblings regularly beat him and with his position he was unable to even dream of retaliating, Orric, his father, had encouraged his other children when they attacked him and had even swung for him on occasion, but the worst of the lot was Maryanne, when Shep was a defenceless infant she had ordered the captain of the guard to bring her his head, the wretch of a man would have gladly done it too had Orric not stopped him.
Esme cleaned the dishes in a bucket of cold water, occasionally looking back at Shep focussed on the 2 spirits. “Lord Orric has told me to tell you to prepare for an expedition to the nearby forest” she stated, “You leave tonight and will be carrying whatever he hunts.”
Shep sighed, “Again? We only did one last week and that old fool never catches anything, he's too fat and too slow.”
“SHEP! Don't ever speak of Lord Orric like that” Esme shouted hurriedly, “He is a Lord, we are alive at his pleasure, don't ever forget that!”
“Sorry Esme.” Shep grinned, he loved Esme but she had a massive inferiority complex, 'maybe thats just the way of this fucked up world' he thought. He reached to the table and held his hand next to his ant, it scurried on and ran up to its designated spot on his left shoulder. “Come on Anthony, let’s go hunt for whatever elusive thing Orric's got his eye on now.”
“Goodbye Shep, be careful you don't get lost in those woods.” Esme said, kissing Shep on the cheek before ruffling his hair and kicking him out into the garden. Shep smiled and sprinted off across the pristine garden towards the back of the mansion house.
As he approached the cobbled exterior of the majestic building, he spied Orric's portly frame struggling to mount a large white stallion. As the fat man settled into the saddle, his red bird that had been circling descended and perched itself atop his head. The party for the hunt was only three men, the large Lord Orric and two household guards atop their own horses, their two spirit dogs awaiting orders beneath. Orric saw Shep approaching and smirked, “Ah, Failure, you finally showed up now we can leave.”
“Yes My Lord, I'm ready to carry the creature you fell today sire” replied Shep, struggling to hide his laughter. 'As if this loud-mouthed bastard could even come within range of a prey.'
“With the Failure being here, my lord let us be away” smiled one of the guards.
“Yes, you're right let's go, try and keep up Failure.” replied Orric spurring his horse forward. The 3 horses trotted toward the forest quickly and Shep jogged behind. The forest bordered the east side of Orric's estate and was accessible through a rusted iron gate guarded by an elderly man with a grey beard dangling to his knees. This man was Reginald, the oldest man in service to the Irons household, a 94 year old guard, positioned here due his feeble nature. “Greetings Reginald, we're off on a hunt so stand aside while Failure opens the gates.”
“Yes My Lord.” Wheezed the elderly man, stepping out of the path, “Best of fortunes to you sire.” Orric replied by merely raising his arm triumphantly and trotted forward before dismounting his horse and gathering his gear.
'No wonder he's so fat' thought Shep, 'riding a horse for 5 minutes rather than walking is ridiculous.' He approached Orric as the portly man removed an ornate bow and quiver of arrows from his saddle, before tossing them into Shep's outstretched arms, grunting and disappeared into the thick foliage through the gate. The two guards pushed past Shep, their dogs nipping at their heels, and vanished into the brush, Shep looked back at Reginald and beamed “BYE REG.” The old man returned the smile at the boy who followed the party before gingerly closing the gates and returning to his post.