The region of the world that was most profoundly affected by the blitz had to be the Middle East. As most of the enemy's units landed in regions where the resource sichio was most abundant, the consequences were devastating.
The underlying struggle for control over these valuable resources plunged the Middle East into yet another war, transforming the multiple “Wars on Terror” into a dire war for survival.
In this chaotic landscape, serving Coalition forces, peacekeeping units, U.S. troops, and various insurgent groups found themselves facing a common threat.
The once clear lines drawn between combatants and non-combatants began to blur as they were forced to forge unlikely alliances to navigate the escalating violence.
This unprecedented collaboration was driven by the urgent need to endure the coming storm, as both local populations and foreign military units braced for the repercussions of an intensifying conflict.
- History of the Blitz
Insurgent Base Afghanistan
Mission: Eliminating target Arms Dealer
1320 hours.
The 3rd hour
"We are Oscar Mike. Go! Go! Go!" The sergeant commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos like a knife.
An Abrams tank began barreling down a hill, a squad of rangers and missile infantry by its side, their hearts pounding with adrenaline. The mission ahead was clear: eliminate any stinger sites in the area to secure air support for the operation. They were just one of many squads assaulting the heavily fortified insurgent base (which in actuality was a destroyed village) , but their task was critical to the success of the overall mission.
As the squad approached, they encountered a formidable concrete wall looming in front of them. A seasoned ranger stepped forward, a determined look on his face, and placed two frame charges on the wall. The tension in the air was palpable as all the soldiers stepped aside to avoid the blast radius.
The sergeant, ever vigilant, walked in front of the ranger, preparing his M4A1 with a steely resolve. The charges detonated with a deafening roar, creating a massive hole in the wall, sending debris flying in all directions.
"Jose, take point," the sergeant commanded, his voice steady and authoritative.
Private Jose stepped forward, his heart racing as he positioned himself in front of the newly created breach. He brought his M4 into action, leveling his sight and scanning for threats. Almost immediately, he spotted a stinger site and opened fire. Most of his bullets went wide, but one found its mark, striking a hostile soldier in the neck. The sudden chaos erupted as the other enemy combatants pulled out their weapons and began firing back in retaliation.
Jose quickly took cover behind the wall, his mind racing. "Stinger site twelve o'clock, one hostile down," he reported breathlessly to the sergeant. The sergeant wasted no time, picking up his radio and barking, "Move!"
The Abrams tank drove forward through the breach, its imposing presence a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. But it was immediately targeted by stinger missiles.
The tank immediately deployed smoke and the missiles flew into the ground around it erupting in massive explosions. The mounted m2s on the tank's gun made quick work of the incoming threats as insurgents ran towards the tank, showcasing the firepower at their disposal. The rest of the squad followed the tank closely, using it as cover while firing at the stinger site wherever they could find an opening.
The Abrams tank unleashed its powerful cannon, sending shockwaves through the air. Two insurgents, realizing their fate, dove away in a desperate attempt to escape, but it was futile. The man operating the tank's machine gun opened fire, ruthlessly eliminating the remaining stinger operators in a hail of bullets.
With the immediate threat neutralized, the sergeant, along with a few other rangers, sprinted forward to take cover behind the sandbags at the stinger site. Suddenly, dozens of insurgents emerged from the ruins of a grand palace just to the right, their presence a stark reminder of the perilous situation. They crouched behind the crumbling palace walls and began firing upon the American troops, a storm of bullets raining down.
The machine gunner at the tank opened fire, but in a tragic turn of events, he was struck, losing his right eyeball along with a small portion of his skull. "Man down!" one of the rangers shouted, panic creeping into his voice. The sergeant quickly grasped his radio, desperation creeping into his tone.
"This is Hunter Two-One. The stinger site is down, I repeat, the stinger site is down. Requesting air support, over."
The response crackled through the radio. "(COMMS) Negative, Sergeant. We detected another site north of your position directly behind the palace in front of you." The sergeant's heart sank as he put down his radio, the weight of the news settling heavily in the pit of his stomach. The rangers around him were a mix of shock, anger, and fear, their faces reflecting the grim reality of their situation.
"What the hell?! That place is crawling with damn insurgents! There's only twelve of us and a tank!" Corporal Dunn shouted, his voice filled with panic as a bullet whizzed just past him, striking a metal table nearby. The atmosphere was thick with tension, each second dragging on as they braced for what felt like the fight of their lives. Dunn glanced up, spotting the dark silhouettes of armed men behind barricaded palace windows, ready to fire.
"Sarge, tell the tank to shoot those windows," Dunn urged, his heart racing. They watched as the tank's turret turned, focusing on the target.
"I think they already are," the sergeant replied, observing the tank as it fired a shell that smashed into the windows, creating a large crater and sending debris flying. "Can we call in artillery?" a ranger asked, desperation in his voice.
"The artillerymen are tied up with other areas of the base. We have no choice but to go in," the sergeant stated firmly, readying his weapon. The tank fired again at the insurgents crouched behind the now-shattered windows. The shot struck home, taking out most of the enemy fighters. But then, two men dressed in sandy uniforms emerged from behind a wall near the crater, each clutching RPG launchers. They fired their rockets, but the Abrams tank responded quickly, unleashing its main cannon while simultaneously firing the M2 machine guns. The rockets missed, landing harmlessly in the debris of the village before them.
“(COMMS) Hunter 2-1, this is Rhino 4. We need you to take down the RPG troops now if you want continued support over,” came the urgent voice over the radio.
“Roger that, Rhino 4,” Sergeant Foley responded into the comms, glancing at the twelve men crouched behind sandbags with him. “It’s now or never, boys. Dunn, Jose, you’re with me. The rest of you flank from the left.” The answer was a chorus of "Yes sir" from the rangers, each man steeling himself for the fight ahead.
Foley, Dunn, and Jose stood up together, weapons ready, and began firing at the rebels on the ground. Jose aimed his red dot sight at the head of a nearby insurgent, squeezing the trigger four times. Blood spattered as the first rebel collapsed, followed by another shot that hit a second target multiple times, sending him crashing down as well.
Ranger fire echoed around them as others engaged the enemy, taking down insurgents as they appeared. But then, tragedy struck. Jose watched helplessly as a ranger beside him was shot, a rebel firing from a palace window taking him down instantly.
The tank’s turret shifted to aim at the window where the shot had come from, firing again. Meanwhile, two RPGs raced toward the tank. One exploded harmlessly against a decaying house, but the other made contact, jolting the tank and causing some damage. Though it wasn’t destroyed, it was clear they were in a dangerous situation. Foley was speaking over the comms again, but Jose was too focused to hear him.
He redirected his aim to the crater where the window had stood, squeezing the trigger and dropping both RPG operators before they could retreat. "RPG units down," he reported to Foley, who acknowledged him.
"Good job, Jose. We still have work to do, boys," Foley replied, rallying them.
Without hesitation, he vaulted over the sandbags, with Dunn and Jose following closely behind. Bullets whizzed around them, striking the sand and kicking up dust. The other rangers on the left also jumped over the barriers and rushed forward. A few fell immediately under enemy fire, but many pressed on.
They arrived at the leftmost door and stepped inside, where muffled gunfire reverberated around them. The three men pressed forward with cautious optimism, hoping to navigate the chaos safely. As they approached the main door, they took note of several insurgents inside, weapons drawn and poised for combat.
Out of nowhere, one of the rebels lunged at Foley, brandishing a knife. The insurgent slashed toward Foley's side, but Foley reacted just in time, ducking to evade the attack. Seizing the moment, he retaliated, swinging the stock of his gun into the rebel’s stomach. The insurgent doubled over in pain, but the confrontation was far from over.
Foley quickly retreated a few steps, raised his weapon, and fired off a shot.
"Multiple tangos in the building!" Dunn yelled, prompting the trio to take cover on either side of the entrance. Foley exchanged glances with Jose and Dunn.
"On three," Dunn instructed. Both Jose and Dunn nodded in agreement. "One… Two…" They prepared to step forward. "Three!" With that, they stepped into the room, facing five armed rebels.
Dunn was the first to act, firing his SCAR-H and taking out one of the rebels with a well-placed shot to the head. The men continued to fire, successfully neutralizing the remaining insurgents. "Where are the others?" Dunn inquired, scanning their surroundings. Just then, a door beside them swung open unexpectedly. They all aimed their weapons in that direction. "Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" It turned out to be a unit of American troops, who had arrived just in time.
With tensions easing, they lowered their guns. "Search the rest of this floor," Foley commanded. "Dunn, Jose, follow me." The three men ran up the stairs, weapons at the ready.
As they ascended, Foley outlined their plan. "We'll take out the RPG units first on the second floor. Then we’ll tackle the stinger site from the windows across the way."
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, they were immediately confronted by two rebels wielding AK-47s. Without hesitation, Foley eliminated both threats with precision shots. "Check the corners and clear out all the rooms!" he ordered.
They split up to cover more ground. Jose approached the rightmost room, finding the door barred. He fired at the hinges, forcing the door open with a kick. Time seemed to slow as he entered the room, firing at his attackers.
His first shot struck the rebel in the center, hitting him squarely in the chest and then in the head. Spotting two more insurgents to his left, he aimed again, shooting three times. His first bullet hit one in the shoulder; the following two found their mark in the head. He then pivoted to the right and fired on the last man, taking him down as well.
"Clear!" Jose shouted, his heart racing. He heard multiple gunshots and caught Dunn's voice from the adjacent room. "Clear!"
More gunfire erupted, followed by the agonized grunt of a rebel, then Foley's voice rang out, "Clear!" They were nearing the last room, which Foley assumed housed the RPG units. Dunn eyed the large door before Foley and Jose approached.
"Alright, you ready?" Foley asked, looking at them. Jose nodded, while Dunn affirmed, "Always, sir." Foley knocked heavily on the door, and angry voices erupted from within. He carefully opened the door slightly and tossed in a flashbang before shutting it quickly. A deafening bang followed as Foley kicked the door open.
Inside, they spotted three RPG units stationed in the expansive room, surrounded by four insurgents armed with a mix of AKs and M16s. The wall ahead had been shattered by the earlier attack from the Abrams tank.
Stunned by the flashbang, all seven insurgents barely had time to react before Foley and the others unleashed a relentless hail of bullets. Bodies crumpled to the floor as blood spattered, making the encounter almost too easy.
"Rhino 4, do not fire at the windows. We're here. RPG units are eliminated. Moving on to the stinger site," Foley reported over the radio. "Roger that, Hunter 2-1. Good luck." Foley then turned to his team. "The stinger site should be on the other side. We'll hit them from the windows. Jose, grab an RPG. We’ll need it."
Jose complied, moving to the body of one of the RPG troopers. With both hands, he attempted to drag the RPG, only to realize that the soldier was still alive, barely breathing. Without hesitation, he drew his pistol and finished the insurgent off. Then he hoisted the RPG onto his shoulder, ready for the next phase of their mission.
"Let's go!" Dunn urged Jose, adrenaline pumping through them. They sprinted towards the far side of the building, heading for the room that Dunn had already secured. As they entered, they saw the lifeless bodies of two rebels sprawled on the floor, a grim reminder of the chaos outside.
The room had three large windows that provided a clear view of the stinger site. Foley and Jose moved towards one of the windows, and with a firm push, Jose opened it wide, letting in the sounds of gunfire and shouting.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"Fire your RPG!" Foley shouted urgently. Jose steadied himself, placing the back end of the rocket-propelled grenade launcher against his shoulder for support. He focused intently on the stinger below, aimed carefully, and squeezed the trigger. The rocket shot forward with a loud whoosh. The operators at the stinger seemed unaware of the impending danger until it was too late. The rocket struck the ground near them, resulting in a massive explosion that obliterated all four personnel in an instant.
As the smoke cleared, they finally took in the full scene outside. A cluster of barracks loomed nearby, and two arms dealers were huddled with dozens of rebels, who were surrounding a couple T72 tanks and BMP-2s. The realization hit them hard—they were in serious jeopardy.
In a flurry of instinct, Jose discarded the RPG, while Foley quickly dashed toward him, instinctively pushing him aside. Dunn reacted by diving away from their precarious position just as a shell from the closest t72 slammed into the wall. The impact threw Foley backward, and the sudden explosion filled the air with dust and debris, making it hard to breathe.
"Sarge! You okay there, Sarge?" Dunn yelled into the thick haze. His heart raced as he awaited a response. Suddenly, Foley’s voice crackled through the comms. "This is Hunter 2-1. Stinger site down, I repeat, stinger site down! Requesting air support!"
As the ringing in their ears began to fade, gunfire erupted around them, snapping their focus back to the fight. A frantic voice came over the radio. "(COMMS) Sir, the T72s and BMP-2 are firing at us, sir. They've got Davidson!"
A bullet zipped through the air, striking a nearby object. "Ah, shit! I'm hit," a voice exclaimed, followed by the sound of something heavy crashing down.
"Corporal Simmons! Corporal, come in!" Panic twisted Foley’s features as he stood among his team, fear for their safety overwhelming any concern for his own well-being. "Overlord, this is Hunter 2-1. Where the hell is the backup?!" His voice was a mix of urgency and desperation, echoing across the tense atmosphere.
Suddenly, the loud whirring of helicopter rotors sliced through the air, cutting through the frantic noise. Two Apache helicopters burst onto the scene, their presence offering a glimmer of hope amidst the unfolding chaos. The three rangers hurried to the windows; determination etched on their faces. They braced themselves for battle as the helicopters unleashed a barrage of firepower. Rocket pods exploded against targets, obliterating buildings, barracks, arms dealers, and armed rebels alike. The relentless onslaught transformed the landscape into a scene of total destruction and chaos.
The roar of machine guns filled the air as they efficiently mowed down rebels crouching on the ground. Rockets slammed into the BM2-2 and two T-72 tanks, triggering massive explosions that lit up the area. "Wooo! Hell yeah!" Dunn shouted, his voice full of exhilaration, arms raised in a victorious gesture amid the devastation.
In that moment of excitement, they caught sight of another anti-air unit. Its cannon was aimed directly at the approaching helicopters. Before it had a chance to fire, however, a tank shell struck home, obliterating it in an instant. As if on cue, an Abrams tank rolled into view, boosting their firepower even further.
“Hell yeah! Did you fucking see that?!” Dunn shouted, his voice filled with exhilaration, adrenaline coursing through him like wildfire as he took in the chaotic scene unfolding around them. The aftershocks of their recent assault reverberated in his bones, and he was momentarily lost in the thrill of victory. The thrill, however, was short-lived.
From behind, Jose sprinted up, gripping his rifle tightly, his expression serious. “Sir, the choppers are reporting no life signs above,” he informed them, the weight of the situation evident in his tone as he scanned the horizon for any signs of danger.
Foley, standing tall amidst the wreckage, surveyed the aftermath of the helicopter attack. Fires flickered ominously from the charred remains of the buildings, and bodies lay scattered across the ground, a grim testament to the force of their strike. It was clear they had decisively taken out their targets, but the victory felt bittersweet. He picked up his radio, a grin breaking through the tension on his face, even as the reality began to settle in. “This is Hunter Two-One. Arms dealers have been dealt with—no survivors,” he announced, trying to inject a sense of accomplishment into the air thick with dread.
“Sir, I think that much is obvious,” Simmons remarked wryly, gesturing towards the scenes of destruction that surrounded them. It was a stark reminder of the brutality they had just unleashed.
The radio crackled to life, cutting through their small celebration with a chilling urgency. “(COMMS) Sergeant. We need you to pull back IMMEDIATELY to base; multiple unknown contacts have appeared —fZZZZZZZ” The voice was abruptly swallowed by static, an unsettling sound that left them in a tense silence, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on them.
Foley’s expression changed sharply, concern deepening as he felt as though the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “Command, come in? COMMAND!!!” He shook the radio in hopes of re-establishing contact, desperation creeping into his voice.
A ranger in the distance waved his radio in the air, urgency flowing through his voice. “Hey, are any of your radios working? I think mine’s kaput.”
“Shit, I think COMMs are down!” Foley yelled in frustration, hurling his radio into the sand. It fizzled out, dead and useless, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than ever.
The remaining rangers rapidly checked their radios, only to be met with an identical response—nothing but static. Panic began to seep into their ranks like a creeping fog, each man feeling the prick of fear at the back of his mind.
“Where in the hell would terrorists get a jammer from?” Dunn asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I mean, command should have known something—”
BOOM! The deafening noise snapped them back to reality.
All the rangers froze, abandoning their tasks to turn their attention toward Bagram Airbase—the very place they had come from by Humvee before the operation. They watched in shock as a massive mushroom cloud with a bluish hue began to form in the distance, growing ominously above the horizon like a grotesque omen.
“What the hell is making all that racket?” the tank commander exclaimed, opening the top hatch to survey the situation, disbelief written all over his face.
“Holy shit! Hey, Sarge, you were in charge of this operation! Did they ever tell you they were launching nukes near us?!” he shouted incredulously, the gravity of the moment hitting everyone like a freight train.
The entire tank crew climbed out after their commander, disbelief etched on their faces as they stared, wide-eyed, at the horrid sight above, their minds racing to comprehend the implications of what they were witnessing.
CHOP, CHOP, CHOP, CHOP, CHOP, CHOP!
As the rangers looked skyward, they saw the Apache's that had once been their protectors disappearing into the distance, retreating toward the ominous cloud. The helicopters’ blades whipped through the air, kicking up a thick cloud of sand that began to obscure their view, creating a surreal haze around them.
“Do they know what the hell is going on, sir?” Foley asked, gripping his rifle tighter, anxiety consuming him. The swirling dust settled, obscuring his sight and blocking him from seeing the ranger who had been speaking to him, leaving him feeling isolated in a growing storm of uncertainty.
Dunn looked into the distance. “Shit are the Chinese attacking us or something?” he asked, a thousand-yard stare on his face.
“The Chinese? Give me a break. Who in the hell in their right mind would nuke a U.S. base?” Jose asked, also mesmerized by the cloud.
The rangers gave him a look—the kind that said, "Are you stupid?"
“Well, I didn't mean it like that, guys. I mean, we’ve got a lot of enemies, but not ones that would launch a—”
“Jose, shut the hell up,” Folley snapped as he moved to the now burnt carcass of the BMP that lay in the sands and climbed on top of it
The sergeant looked faced towards his men spread all around the terrorist base. “Okay, boys, we are moving out. We may have no idea what the hell is going on, and our air support may have abandoned us, but we still have most of our platoon intact, and we still have our tank in decent shape.”
“Corporal Dunn, I need you to try and contact the Humvees down south, alright? I'm talking flares—”
“Hey, guys, something’s coming down the road!” A ranger toward the outskirts pointed toward the road that led outside the base.
A dark cloud of smoke and dirt clouded over the vehicle-shaped object barreling down the road.
“Defensive positions! Go, go, go!” Folley shouted.
The rangers and armored crewmen raced to the front gates, hiding behind the sandbags and taking up fortifications. The armored crewman of the Abrams raced to enter the tank and bring it to the front gates, all hatches closing in unison as the crew members and the commander entered the tank.
“STOP THE VEHICLE NOW OR YOU WILL BE SHOT AT!”
“STOP THE DAMN VEHICLE!!!”
The vehicle barreling down the road ignored the soldiers' warnings and crashed into one of the base walls. The rangers moved cautiously toward the wreck; weapons drawn. As they approached, they found a ranger inside the vehicle, gasping for breath.
“Shit Jamie, what the hell happened to you ? Where’s the rest of the teams that were waiting for us?” Folley demanded urgency in his voice.
“Sir... we were attacked outta nowhere,” the ranger painted, struggling to get the words out. “We were hit so bad that... you gotta get outta here, sir. Just go.”
“What the hell attacked you was it insurgents?” Dunn pressed, urgency in his voice.
“It came out of nowhere sarge, hit us hard and fast. We didn’t stand a chance,” the ranger explained, his eyes wide with fear. “It wiped out most of our teams. I barely made it back. Please, you have to get everyone out of here!”
Before they could fully process the information, the Humvee exploded, sending shrapnel flying. An armored mech like the ones out like anime appeared out of nowhere, its rail gun minigun and tiny rockets firing at the soldiers. The blast knocking out 3 rangers and killed them instantaneously
“SHIT SARGE!!” Dunn ran out and grabbed the Sargent as Hernandez, and Jose covered him picking him up towards cover
Jose checked for shrapnel releasing breath in relief as it seemed he was only just had the air knock out of him “Shit sarge wake up up we got the bloody mech from evangelion fighting us now!”
Folley woke up coughing into his arm blood, crap he thought something was probably wrong with his internals now no matter
Folley got up leaning on the wall and grabbing his rifle
“Alright boys, where's the big metal bastard?” his grimacing teeth shining through the dark sand clouds kicked up during the fight
The mech was a towering, metallic behemoth, its armor glinting menacingly in the fading light. It moved with an eerie, mechanical precision, its footsteps reverberating through the ground. The rangers' hearts pounded as they took cover, their minds racing for a plan of attack.
“Open fire!” Folley commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos.
The rangers unleashed a barrage of gunfire, but the bullets pinged off the mech’s reinforced armor, barely leaving a scratch.
“Damn it, it's not working!” Jose yelled, frustration creeping into his voice.
“Keep shooting! We need to buy time!” Dunn urged.
The Abrams tank roared to life, its cannon firing shell after shell at the mech. The explosions lit up the night, but the mech seemed almost unfazed, its movements calculated and relentless.
“Come on, you piece of junk!” the tank commander growled, frustration boiling over.
The mech retaliated, launching rockets from its shoulder-mounted launchers. The projectiles streaked through the air, hitting the tank with devastating force. The already damaged Abrams rocked from the impact, but the crew kept firing, desperate to take down the monstrous adversary.
“We need to flank it! Find its weak spots!” Hernandez suggested, his voice strained with effort.
With a whine of hydraulics, the mech’s rail cannon powered up, and a moment later, a blinding flash erupted as it fired. The shell slammed into the Abrams, obliterating it in a catastrophic explosion. Debris and shrapnel rained down, and the ground shook with the force of the blast.
“Fall back! Regroup!” Folley shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.
The surviving rangers scrambled to new positions, determined to continue the fight. Dunn, Jose, Hernandez, and Folley found themselves behind a makeshift barricade, their breaths ragged and hearts pounding.
“Keep it together,” Folley urged, his eyes scanning the battlefield. “We’re not done yet.”
“What are we gonna do now?” Jose asked, his voice trembling.
“We adapt. We improvise. We survive,” Dunn replied, his determination evident. “We need to figure out a way to take that thing down.”
“There’s gotta be a weak point. Maybe the joints or the power source,” Hernandez speculated, trying to formulate a plan.
“Alright, we split into teams. One draws its fire, the other goes for the weak spots,” Folley decided, taking charge. “This is our only shot.”
Folley scanned the area, his eyes landing on a stash of weapons left behind by the terrorists they had taken out earlier in the compound. Among the pile was an RPG.
“Look what we have here,” Folley muttered, moving quickly to retrieve the RPG. “This might just give us a fighting chance.”
“An RPG? Do you think it’ll work?” Dunn asked, eyeing the weapon with a mixture of hope and skepticism.
“It has to. We don’t have many options left,” Folley replied, loading the RPG and preparing it for use. “We need to get under that thing. I bet the underside is weaker.”
“Alright, let’s do this,” Hernandez said, determined in his voice. “We’ll cover you, Sarge.”
The team moved out, using the debris and structures as cover to get closer to the mech. Bullets whizzed past them, and the ground shook with each of the mech’s steps.
“Folley, get ready! We’ll distract it!” Dunn shouted, signaling for the others to open fire.
The rangers unleashed another barrage, aiming for the mech’s joints and trying to draw its attention away from Folley. The mech responded with a hail of gunfire and rockets, but the rangers held their ground, giving Folley the time he needed.
“Come on, you big metal bastard, look over here!” Jose yelled, firing his rifle and dodging behind cover.
Folley took a deep breath, steadying his aim as he positioned himself beneath the mech. He could see the vulnerable, exposed parts of its undercarriage.
“Here goes nothing,” he murmured, squeezing the trigger.
The RPG shot out with a trail of smoke, hitting the mech squarely underneath. The explosion was deafening, and the mech staggered, its movements becoming erratic.
“You did it, Sarge!” Hernandez cheered, seeing the mech’s weakened state.
The mech tried to steady itself, but another shot from the RPG sent it crashing to the ground, its systems failing.
“We got it!” Dunn shouted, relief washing over him.
The remaining rangers cautiously approached the fallen mech, ready for any last-ditch attacks. When it remained still, they let out a collective sigh of relief.
“Good job, everyone. We did it,” Folley said, a tired smile on his face.
A great roar was heard over head as the rangers looked up a squadron of f15s and a10s flew overhead a hope grew in the hearts of the rangers below
“The cavalry's here boys now it's our turn to fight the bastards that took our friends.”
As the dust began to settle, a strange, otherworldly hum filled the air. The rangers turned their gaze skyward once more, eyes widening in astonishment. Above them, a massive, grey spaceship emerged from a swirling, glowing portal. The ship’s hull was sleek and menacing, its surface glinting under the harsh light of the battlefield.
The portal crackled with energy, casting an eerie glow over the desolate landscape. Laser fire erupted from the spaceship, illuminating the sky in a dazzling display of deadly precision. The air was thick with the sound of explosions and the whir of futuristic weaponry.
The War had only just begun