Green Light Hell

The dimly lit bunker cast deep, and eerie green, not a soul or sound in sight as the team descended. They switched on their gun lights as the group dropped into the bowls of the bunker. Nameless led the way, his heart racing, and his mind focused.

Was Jockus truly down here? The last time he had seen her in battle, she had stormed forward like a warrior goddess. Why would she hide down here? All he knew was that if she was down here, only one of them was going to leave this bunker alive.

The stairs ended, leading to a large and empty garage. It was plain to see now as the team entered, their flashlight beams cutting through the empty darkness, that this bunker had once housed many large vehicles. It now seemed like a dark tomb.

“Orders, sir?” the wolf sergeant asked.

“Stay tight, move in a diamond. If she's down here, we'll run into her.”

The wolves nodded, falling in on Nameless, pointing their weapons in every possible direction as Nameless led the way. They slowly prowled deeper into the large chamber. Nameless slowed his breathing, his skin crawling. Fear began to take hold. The kind of fear that you can't do anything about, millennia of evolution screaming out as it sensed a predator in the dark. It felt as if a pair of eyes were dead set on him.

As they neared the end of the chamber, a dark silhouette could be seen.

The wolves moved in a fluid motion, aiming all their guns on the dark form barely illuminated in the faint green light from the flickering emergency exit signs. Nameless rooted his feet, bending his knees, arms and hands shaking.

“And so, the prodigal son returns,” a voice called out. It was an aged, accented female voice.

“Show yourself,” Nameless seethed.

Mama Jockus cracked a chem light, shook it, and threw it at her feet. Her figure was illuminated in a ghostly green light from the floor, casting shadows about her. She was dramatically different now. Her jewelry and fancy clothes gone now, replaced by a pitch-black robe. The same kind of garment Mr. Eyes wore in his dreams.

“You have done quite well for yourself; I would be proud had you not stolen my prize,” Jockus purred.

“The vial belongs with those who made it,” Nameless spat. “People like you would just abuse it.”

“Ah, yes. The Institution. What a lovely bunch of overlords, if only you knew the truth about them,” Jockus mused.

“They seem sane to me, better than everyone else I've met so far.”

“You met one of their footmen! A butler, a doorman, a simple errand boy. I know the Institution; I have walked in their halls, seen their plans, I know them. Frederick is a good man; he fights justly against them; you would know this if you knew what we knew!”

“I'm guessing Frederick is Mr. Eyes?”

“He is a genius; Mars has flourished under his reign. Gave you a good life! But you had to go and betray me and steal my way back into his good graces,” Jockus said threateningly.

“I didn’t steal anything, we planned on giving it back to you! Before we found out you put a bounty on us. Figures a slave owner would defend a dictator.”

“Slave owner? I reached down from my station, plucked you out from the filth of this world. You and I are better than these wretches who vie for bread each day. You know this, you have simple people beneath you, demanding everything of you. When it is people like us, who are destined to rule this world.”

“I fight for my friends and the innocent who get trampled by monsters like you.”

“Still so naive. As if those ‘people’ wouldn't eat you as soon as the food ran out. It's not too late, you know; all can still be forgiven. Give me the vial; you and your friends will live like Kings and Queens in the city. Besides, someone has to take dear old Peirceson’s place,” Jockus winked. “There is always a need for strong new blood in the war against the Institution.”

“Who is the Institution?” Nameless asked. They were bound to fight, pitted against one another; he might as well get some biased information before he killed her.

Jockus smiled a wretched, toothy grin. Her chin jutting like a dagger, her back hunching, her eyes widened as far as possible as she cocked her head. “They are the forces that influence the tide of history. The self-proclaimed shepherds of humanity, meddling in space and time, trying to reach salvation for our civilization. And in their blind pursuit of the unattainable, everyone else suffers.

“We were all saved when Frederick took up arms against the Institution and began the holy crusade. Mars was a paradise; grass still grew on our surface; each part of our society did their jobs well and knew their born places.

“Then the thirteen came and usurped our prosperity, bringing fire and death. You say you fight for the people, yet under Earth ships, you lay siege to our last stronghold. The very same kind of ships that ravaged our planet, undoing the terraform. Perhaps you are the real monster here?” Jockus mused.

“Mars will be free. From Earth, and people like you,” Nameless spat, tensing.

“Such noble words, from a murderous little pup who eliminates all in his way. We are the same, whether you admit it or not. Did you miss me?”

Nameless didn’t answer, his face grimacing.

“I suppose not; I haven't truly left you since the hand-off,” Jockus teased.

“Bullshit. We've been doing fine without you!” Nameless barked.

“Even with our agent in the Vagabonds? Constantly disrupting plans, telling us your location, always… starting fights?” Jockus said slowly, her eyes glinting.

Nameless 's heart dropped. No, she was lying. There weren't any traitors. No one in the vagabonds fit that bill. Well, except for… No. She was a good fighter. Nameless 's mind reeled, images of Hera flooding in. But they were false, had to be! “You're a liar. A liar, a witch, a miserable old hag who hasn't done an honest day's work in her life. Always using others to do her dirty work. This ends here.”

“Then you know nothing and will die as nothing!” Jockus disappeared, her form blurring like a flickering video image. She reappeared, two glowing staffs of bright orange energy in her hands, impaling one of the wolves. He screamed and fell dead as she disappeared again. Cackling sounded from the dark corners.

Nameless looked down, seeing smoke emerge from the man's wounds.

“Circle up!” Nameless called.

The team formed a circle—only five wolves left.

Jockus swooped back in with the same attack, this time sailing right through the group. As she disappeared again, one of the wolf's heads rolled off his shoulders, his body buckling limply.

“Light her up!” Nameless called. He was starting to feel like he was a bit outmatched.

The wolves opened fire, illuminating the room. To their horror, Jockus was standing barely ten feet away in the dark, now dodging the bullets as she came back in for another attack. She jumped on one of the wolves, stabbing rapidly. The man screamed as his chest melted, death gurgling as he fell. Jockus jumped off his descending body midair, laughing wildly as she disappeared into the dark.

Nameless took out his thermal knife, igniting it. “Fall back; I'll cover you,” he barked.

“We will return with help, commander!” the Wolf sergeant called frantically as his men sprinted back to the stairs.

“Ah, my old knife. So sorry I lied to you that day. Would you like to know how I truly got that knife? Or why it is so special?” Jockus asked slyly as she circled Nameless.

“No, not really,” he grunted as he slammed a new magazine into the Beowulf.

“I ripped it off the body of the Zion assassin sent to kill Frederick!” Jockus cackled. She bared her energy half staffs, each looking like a molten bolt of red-hot steel, her body zapping with energy, her eyes made of fire, her air flapping wildly from the force she was giving off.

“Let's dance,” Nameless spat.

The two collided, Nameless jabbing and shooting. Jockus effortlessly dodged the attacks and began playfully zapping Nameless with her staffs. Nameless grunted in pain as Jockus toyed with him. Finally, she kicked Nameless in the chest, sending him flying a good ten feet backward.

His vision swirled, his chest aching as he grunted. He shakily pushed himself off the ground, elevating himself to all fours.

“You came into this world as nothing, and you shall leave it as less than nothing. Return what you stole from me!” Jockus growled, pressing her beams together. They sparked and buzzed as they fused together, forming a molten orange lance of power.

“Oh, Lucilla, always picking on those weaker than you. Some things never change,” an aged, familiar voice called.

Jockus whirled around to see Professor Zion standing in the bunker.

“Thaddeus. How nice of you to leave your laboratories and join us in the fray,” Jockus mused, twirling her staffs.

“If I am not mistaken, I believe I am just a manservant to you,” Zion chuckled, rolling his sleeves up. “Nameless, my dear lad, may I introduce Lucilla Jasmine Jockus, the first idiot to lay with and aide dear old Frederick, or Mr. Eyes if you will, in his failed rebellion against Earth and our order.”

“Why does everyone know each other?” Nameless grunted, pushing himself upright so he could stand.

“Frederick loves me, and I shall earn my place by his side again when I take that vial!” Jockus screeched, entering her combat stance.

“Your death warrant was signed three hundred years ago. Better late than never,” Zion laughed. His body was beginning to glow, his hair fluttering, sparks of blue energy dancing around his body.

“Even if I die here, the cosmos will avenge me! The Institution knows not what they meddle with,” Jockus seethed.

“And you do? My dear, you can lie to yourself, but certainly not me,” Zion laughed.

Jockus shrieked and charged forward at speeds so fast the naked eye could barely see. But Nameless could see, his implants picking up the movements. Zion's fists burst into blue flames, his eyes becoming molten blue orbs as his body simmered in bright blue light. The two figures clashed, fighting in mortal combat.

Nameless watched like a small child as the two warriors fought; the room becoming a swirling pool of orange and blue simmering energy. Time and space seemed to tear, reality beginning to shimmer as the two dueled. The remaining energy left from each attack floated through the air, dissipating like sparks and fireflies.

Jockus swiped and jabbed while Zion effortlessly prairied her energy attacks, hammering her with powerful strikes. The impacts reverberated through the air like an ocean tide. Jockus fell back and launched a series of molten orange darts at him. Zion formed a wall of blue light in a millisecond, the darts harmlessly lodging in the wall and exploding.

He responded by kicking a lightning bolt-like beam of energy at her. She narrowly dodged, the energy smashing into the far back wall and caving it in. The bunker shook, dirt and dust falling unto them as the very foundation struggled to hold against the pressure of that strike.

“This is your destiny! Strike him down, and I will teach you how to use this!” Jockus pleaded, reengaging the Professor. Nameless watched in wonder as fire and energy erupted like a geyser, showering the surrounding ground as the two fought.

“You are not ready for this, my boy; help me bring peace to Mars!” Zion called.

Nameless cocked the Beowulf, studying their attack patterns. They were powerful, damn near God-like, but they were human and fought as such. He watched their feet; he calculated their next position. He aimed at the empty air, his finger on the trigger. A blur appeared, orange and blue, and he pulled the trigger. A single bullet flew and ripped through the intended body, a geyser of blood spouting from the wound.

Jockus and Zion stood there like statues, each studying the other, pondering what happened. Then, slowly, Jockus began coughing blood. Red started to flood from her mouth as she clutched her chest, which now had a gaping hole in it. She stumbled backward. Zion nodded at Nameless, and the two men started toward Jockus.

Mama Jockus had collapsed on the ground, now a bloody mess. She couldn't speak, her eyes wild and crazed as she kicked and struggled.

“I do believe the honor is yours, my boy,” Zion offered.

“I don't think this will kill her, honestly,” Nameless said in wonder.

“Aim for the head. She's powerful, not immortal. True immortality is, well, let's just say it's tough to achieve for people like us,” Zion

“Is Mr. Eyes immortal?” Nameless asked, looking at the Professor.

Zion sighed. “He likes to think he is, but so did she, and look how that ended up. This war will be difficult, not impossible; the proof lies right there.”

“What else don't I know?”

“Everything. Everything, and nothing. You know enough for your role; perhaps someday, you may have mine. For now, let us focus on her.”

Nameless looked down at Jockus, who had outstretched a bloody hand to him, choking.

Nameless aimed the Beowulf and shot three times. Jockus stopped moving.

“Let's get going,” Nameless said darkly.

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He walked past the Professor, then whirled back around as a giant pyre of blue flame erupted, eviscerating Jockus's corpse.

“The hell!” Nameless shouted, wide-eyed.

“Can't be too careful, my boy.” Zion shrugged, steering around Nameless, hands in his pockets.

“I fucking knew you could do magic!” Nameless spat, following Zion to the steps.

“Particle manipulation and magic are two wildly different fields,” Zion said nonchalantly.

“Particle manipulation? The fuck is particle manipulation?” Nameless barked as they started walking up the steps.

“I merely organized electrons in a certain current and made them behave just as electricity does, in a controlled manner. Elementary stuff really, your guns and technology achieve the same effect.”

“Normal people can't just use electricity and fire like swords!” Nameless said, his reality falling apart.

“And who said we were normal people?”

“Of fucking course, you ancient fucks now how to do this stuff—”

“Did I say Jockus and myself?” Zion interrupted.

Nameless halted.

“I can't do that stuff!” Nameless said, using his hands.

“Why?”

“Because I don't know how!”

“Why?”

Nameless sputtered, so angry and confused he could barely speak. “Be-because I didn't get whatever classes you guys got! Fucking space wizards and shit.”

“Not yet you didn't,” Zion chimed. “Come along, we have a siege to win.”

Nameless mouthed angrily, pointing his finger as the Professor walked up the stairs chuckling. Finally, Nameless swallowed his anger and followed the old man. “When do I learn?” Nameless spat.

“When you are ready,” Zion shrugged.

“But I need it now! Do you realize how much damage I could do with that power?” Nameless blurted.

“I do; that is why we must wait for when you are ready. I do not intend to come back a second time to fix such a mistake,” Zion said darkly. “You will win this war, and when you are ready, I will show you such paths. If that is what you wish on that day. This is far more a burden than a gift, I assure you. I am one of the lucky few with such gifts to reach middle age. Old age for you, life expectancy of thirty and all that, but still.”

Nameless relented. “So, you just portaled in here or something?”

“Heavens, no, I took the train and walked down here,” Zion laughed.

“I don't get the limits on your job,” Nameless shook his head.

“Said so yourself, level five wizard sent to fix the fuck ups of level thirty-five wizards,” Zion chortled.

“So, what are you really?” Nameless asked.

Zion looked at Nameless. “I'm a professor.”

“And I'm the Nameless One.”

“Precisely!” Zion laughed.

“You know, I hate when you say that,” Nameless sighed.

“I have said it ten times. Are you so quick to hatred of a simple word usage?”

Nameless's mind reeled as he tried counting how many times Professor Zion said precisely. He gave up.

“What now?” Nameless asked as they neared the end of the hallway. The bright orange night sky now visible.

“Now we rally the army and march on New Washington. The trap was sprung, surprisingly few casualties, we must press on,” Zion said simply. “You may find our friends in the sky a bit more cooperative now that they have lost so much.”

“I thought communications with the fleet was cut off?” Nameless asked, surprised.

“They are, but the fleet has eyes and scanners. Let's just say they are most likely more than enthusiastic about our progress,” Zion chuckled.

As the two climbed, Nameless remembered what Jockus had said. A traitor in their mix, a Vagabond who had sold them out. Anger and frustration filled him. It wasn't true; every Vagabond had bled with him. Sacrificed so much, each one fighting for their freedom. Still, one of them did fit that bill a bit too well.

The two emerged from the bunker and were immediately beset by the Vagabonds.

Carla, Sammy, and Julia ran toward Nameless, Aj talking with Spider and the other commanders. Hera was talking to Nameless’s wolf scouts.

“Are you okay? What happened down there, and what are you doing here, Professor?” Julia asked, her voice cracking.

“Oh, I am fine, my dear,” Professor Zion said in his old tone. “Forgive my absence; I feared that there may be some technical difficulties down there I may have been able to assist with.”

“Well, don't ghost us like that again, old man. We need to know where you are,” Hera grumbled as she walked over.

Nameless took a good hard look at her, studying her face.

“Well, we're just glad you guys are okay,” Carla sighed with relief.

“Yeah, it was really worrying to hear all those explosions. And the stories the Wolves had, gods, I mean, they were just hallucinating, right?” Sammy asked, puzzled.

Nameless looked over at his wolf team, each survivor looking like they had seen the actual Gods themselves. The Wolves were all sitting by themselves, on the edge of the bunker.

“A chemical leak caused violent hallucinations down there. That's why Jockus was able to ambush us so easily,” Nameless sighed.

“Indeed, through my in-depth knowledge of hazardous materials and chemical counteraction, I was able to assist master Nameless,” Professor Zion nodded proudly.

“Oh, the thank the gods. The stories, I mean, it's crazy, right?” Julia pondered.

“Pure lunacy from men who were exposed to expired chemicals, my dear,” Professor Zion said softly.

“Excuse me, please?” Nameless asked.

The vagabonds nodded and parted as Nameless strolled over to his wolves. They saw him coming, some of them vomiting, others fidgeting in fear. The Sergeant stood his ground, his cold eyes studying Nameless as they approached.

Nameless rehearsed his chemical leak speech, strategizing how to answer their questions. As he neared their circle, he knelt to be at eye level with them. He sighed.

“Thank you for standing for so long back there,” Nameless said.

“Chemical leak, sir?” the Sergeant asked gruffly.

Nameless nodded.

“There's a lot more chemical leaks coming, especially once we get into the city. I won't think any less of you for not following me. You all have done more than enough for me,” Nameless sighed.

“Was that real? The old man, the woman, the fire—” one of the wolves burst out loud, his eyes bulging, tears flowing, sweat running down his head as he rocked back and forth in the ground.

Nameless silently nodded.

“Gather yourself, wolf,” the Sergeant barked.

Nameless raised his hand. “Can I be honest with you, boys?” Nameless asked the men older than him. They nodded. “I'm just as scared as he is,” Nameless chuckled. “But, we all now have a chance to free Mars here. Your children will not be born with chains should we succeed. Fuck the space magic, chemical leaks, and every fleet they hurl at us. We’re Martians, we were bred for war, and I know that as long as I’m breathing I won’t fucking stop until we won. Just need some good men to follow me.”

The wolves looked at each other.

“We will follow you. It was a bad chemical leak, and we will stand through the rest,” The Sergeant nodded.

“I appreciate that,” Nameless sighed.

“May I ask a boon, sir?” the Wolf sergeant asked.

“Of course, what's your name, by the way?” Nameless asked.

“Cooper, sir.”

“What is your boon, Cooper?”

“Follow us? Captain Zyfor wishes to meet with you. Privately,” Sergeant Cooper said darkly.

“Lead the way, guys,” Nameless sighed.

The wolves gathered themselves and walked away, Nameless following. They rounded the bunker, revealing the rest of the wolf company. Zyfor stood at the head of his men. His muscular body tight, shoulders hunched, his glaring eyes challenging. The man truly looked like a wolf in human form, a feral predator ready to tear apart any who stood in his way.

“Commander,” Nameless nodded.

Zyfor held a hand up and gestured toward the barren wastes with a thumb. Nameless acknowledged, and the pair walked away from the army. Once they were out of earshot, Zyfor spoke. “I have two concerns.”

“Okay?”

“First, my men told me about what happened down there,” Zyfor said, looking at Nameless. He returned the gaze.

“If I'm going to be honest, I don't even know what happened down there,” Nameless sighed.

“There are legends of armies wielding such powers clashing on Mars. The warriors of light, and the warriors of darkness. Which do you fight for?” Zyfor asked.

“I fight for you all,” Nameless said.

“Yes, but what path?” Zyfor pressed.

Nameless sighed. “I fight with Zion, against Eyes. Whatever those colors are, I fight for Mars.”

Zyfor pulled out a combat knife and held it out for Nameless. “Swear it on the blood of your ancestors.”

Nameless chuckled. “I don't even know who my parents are, a kinda empty promise, don't you think?”

“Their blood flows through your veins; you may swear upon that.”

Nameless sighed, took the knife, and gripped the blade with his closed hand. He had one unscarred palm left. He ran the blade from his hand, his palm roaring with pain as blood dripped from his clenched fist. “I swear on the blood of my ancestors, and my honor as a Vagabond, that I fight for Mars and her children.”

Zyfor took the knife, nodding in satisfaction. “I have served too many lords, too many false prophets, never have I served one who cared for the people,” He also gripped the knife. “On the blood of my greatest grandfather, who fought to free Mars, I swear fealty to you. My body and men are now bound to you as your own company,” Zyfor vowed, cutting his palm.

“Whoa, wait, hold on, you're Hera's people!” Nameless exclaimed.

“She is not one of us,” Zyfor said darkly. “She is distracted, and she does not fight with those who wield fire and lightening. Our people were the first who followed the sorcerers in the great war. We are bound by generational duty to serve you.”

“Then you will continue to follow her,” Nameless said darkly.

“As you wish, but she is my second concern. She is not the Hera that I remember from childhood,” Zyfor said.

“You were separated very young.”

“Yet, the wolf does not call her. She is on her own path; I worry perhaps that others have influenced her.”

“She is a vagabond and will be treated as such until proven otherwise. Give me a full scout element; the rest falls under her. Understand?” Nameless grunted.

“As you command,” Zyfor nodded. The two walked back to the group.

As they turned around the bunker, the army marched by. Trains, trucks, hovercraft, buggies, a mobile ocean of steel pressing toward the city.

“Make sure that all happens, Zyfor,” Nameless ordered. “Aj!”

Aj looked over, nodded, finished his commands, and jogged over to Nameless.

“What's up, brother?” he asked happily.

Nameless rubbed his face with his palms tiredly, moaning.

“That bad, huh?” Aj asked hesitantly.

“Hera hasn't been acting suspiciously, has she?” Nameless asked hesitantly.

Aj arched an eyebrow. “You're kidding, right?”

“Am I really the only one not seeing all of this?” Nameless spat exhaustedly.

“You got a lot going on, man. I mean, I doubt she'd kill us or anything, but there's no way in hell she'd stick to that farm,” Aj sighed.

“She'd rather keep killing and nabbing bounties,” Nameless sighed.

“Yeah, Carla and Hera have been at each other's throats since your little fight in Oasis.” Aj sighed.

“What happened?” Nameless asked.

Aj sighed. “They um, kinda well, got separated from us for a little bit after you fell through that roof,” Aj said hesitantly.

“The fuck?” Nameless spat.

“They were only gone for like ten minutes!” Aj exclaimed, holding his hands up.

Nameless leaned in, gritting his teeth.

“You lost Hera and Carla?”

“Nah, man! Hera ran off chasing a guard, and Carla went after her. There was a lot of fighting and shooting, then Hera comes back dragging Carla all fucked up. Julia chem'd Carla up, and wham it was off to rescue you,” Aj said defensively.

Nameless wiped his face with his hand.

“It takes five minutes to flip someone, Aj! You know that!” Nameless spat.

“I know, I know. But it wasn't Carla, and Hera is a tough sombitch. You don't gotta worry, boss man!” Aj said defensively.

Nameless groaned. “Okay, okay, look, you gotta promise me this,” Nameless said, seeing Julia point at her watch hurriedly.

“Whatever it is, man.”

“Kill Hera if she does anything stupid.”

Aj looked at him with a vacant stare.

“Promise me.”

“Dude.”

“Promise me, Aj.”

“The hell is going on, man?”

“Just fucking promise me and be a good fucking sniper, Aj!” Nameless roared. Everyone turned and looked at them.

“Don't make me promise that on a Vagabond,” Aj said softly.

“Either you do it, or a lot more Vagabonds die before I get my hands on her. Promise me!”

Aj looked at Nameless. He was silent, his hand on his mouth as his eyes wondered. “I promise,” he finally said softly.

“Gods willing, I'm just paranoid,” Nameless spat.

“A little too paranoid.”

Nameless grimaced and walked away.

“All in order?” Professor Zion asked.

“Sure, just fucking dandy. Everyone ready?” Nameless spat.

“We are ready.” Professor Zion beamed.

Nameless took in the army, seeing all the scarfed, dirty faces studying him.

He sighed and turned to them.

“We did a good thing tonight; we showed them that we won't back down! But that is just one battle; the war will still be won. Be prepared, keep your heads on a swivel, and the city will be ours. Let's ride!” Nameless bellowed.

The crowd cheered and sped toward their rides or into formation.

“How much farther till the city?” Nameless asked Professor Zion.

“Day's ride, perhaps?”

Nameless nodded and walked over to Julia's buggy; she was perched in her seat, running commands through her silver arm inserted into the radio.

“Hey!” She beamed. “We gotta get going.”

“I know, I know.” Nameless sighed, leaning unto her buggy.

“You okay?” she asked worriedly.

“No.”

“Okay, wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“Stay alive? Please?”

The two locked eyes.

“You don't gotta worry about me,” she said softly.

“I'm giving you most of the army as the diversion,” Nameless said quietly. “We're riding straight for the bunkers from here.”

“That's a lot of responsibility,” Julia chuckled. “Also, it could have been a radio transmission.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to tell you in person. Soon as the bunkers go down, fall back so the fleet can hammer the positions.”

“I know the plan, silly boy,” Julia smiled.

“I know, I know,” Nameless sighed, looking at the ground and thinking about all the recent information weighing on him.

“Hey,” Julia said.

Nameless looked up.

“You better come back alive, too.” She smiled. “Or I'm gonna be really mad, and you don't want to see me mad.”

Nameless chuckled, darkness and hesitation filling him as he lifted himself off her buggy.

“Don't think I've ever really seen you mad,” Nameless shrugged as her engines roared.

“Let's keep it that way.” She winked.

“Commanders!” A little voice called. The two looked, seeing a small female spider approach with Captain Spider. She wore desert orange camouflage and had an interesting computer in her hands. Almost looked like a camera.

“What is it?” Nameless asked darkly.

“S-s-she w-want’s t-to take our-our picture,” Captain Spider beamed.

Nameless and Julia looked at each other perplexed.

“I mean, I don’t see the harm,” Julia shrugged.

“She wants a picture of the army? We’re kinda spread out right now,” Nameless observed.

“N-nah, o-o-of the vagabonds,” Spider smiled.

“If it please you, mi ‘lords,” the little spider bowed.

Julia and Nameless both chuckled.

“We’re not lords, but sure. Where do you want us?” Nameless asked.

The little photographer pointed to the front of the bunker. Nameless nodded and Julia dismounted.

“All Vagabonds to the front of the bunker,” Julia radioed.

Hera, Carla, and Sammy piled out of their buggies, while Aj walked over from his gunship. Professor Zion trotted back from his buggy, the group forming in front of the bunker.

“Tallest in the back please!” the little photographer bubbled.

Nameless, Aj, and Professor Zion stood in the back, while Sammy, Carla, and Hera knelt. Captain Spider stood on the side; his metal limbs crossed over his chest with a serious face.

“Captain Spider, you don’t want to be in the group?” the photo spider asked as she prepped her camera.

The little captain looked up at the Vagabonds.

“C’mon little guy!” Hera beamed, gesturing.

Captain Spider went and stood in the center of the vagabonds, his head barely standing over the heads of the knelt girls. He crossed his arms again, smiling.

“All right everyone, three, two, one!”

A bright flash erupted, then two more. The photographer smiled, then scuttled over to them, showing the camera.

Nameless and Aj seemed gaunt, their faces dead serious. Nameless with his green and grey eyes, jet black ruffled hair, skinny yet built physique. His dark plate carrier bulky, his beowulf hanging by his side, a pistol and knife hanging from the battle belt.

Aj looked grim, his dusty dreads tangled, his scarred face framed by his aviator glasses and red bandanna. His muscled arms covered in gear, his pistol at his side. His barrel chest was covered in a grey tank top, a tactical coat concealing a chest rig.

Professor Zion had a smirk, his pure white hair neatly combed to the side. He had no armor or weapons, just a neat and dirty brown button-down shirt, a traveling coat over it. His belted pants where torn and patched, and he had ditched his polished shoes for combat boots. His bright blue eyes glinted with wisdom from his sharp, aged face.

Julia looked like a general, her glowing face standing out since she took her helmet off. Her golden hair swept to her right side. Her figure was concealed by a tactical grey uniform, chest rig, and a battle belt full of commander tools.

Hera looked the same, bald head with tattoos, angry face, but there was now a glimmer in her eye. Instead of grimacing, now she smirked. She had a chest rig, battle belt, bangalore laden with explosives, and a radio. Her smg proudly tucked by her side.

Carla looked tired, her olive skin and black hair disheveled. But her face and brown eyes were kind. She only had a battle belt with a few extra magazines and a smg. A large radio sat on her back, making her look like a tactical crab.

Sammy looked like she belonged there. Her brown fair tucked under a white skull cap; her hood pulled over her head. Her brown eyes standing out due to her freckles. She had a vest like battle rig covered in spare syringes, chems, tourniquets, and magazines. A medic’s backpack snug tightly to her back.

Captain Spider stood proudly. Despite being trapped in the body of a ten-year-old, he seemed to have an air of command. He wore patched, dirty grey overalls, dirty driver goggles strapped unto his bald head. His Earth Asian decent features glowing as he smiled in the photo.

In the background, the bunker’s entrance yawned like a gaping mouth, dimly exuding green light. The vagabonds gathered around, studying the photo.

“I look hideous!” Julia said in disgust.

“Puta Madre, my hair!” Carla whined.

“I think I look damn good,” Hera grinned.

“We don’t look too bad. Take a good hard look man,” Aj said to Nameless.

Guilt tore at him as Nameless studied the group, ignoring his image.

“Looks good, gonna frame that when we’re done,” Nameless said to the photographer.

The little photographer smiled and produced a printed copy of the photo. Nameless hesitantly took it, folded it, and stowed it in his pants pocket.

“Only if we all come back from this,” Aj muttered.

Julia nudged him.

“Of course, we all are!” She said indignantly.

“Everyone mount up, we got a long ride ahead of us,” Nameless barked.

The vagabonds disappeared each going to their vehicle. Julia stayed behind with Nameless as her buggy was driven over.

“What are you waiting for?” Nameless asked darkly as Julia watched her buggy pull up.

“Something really stupid,” Julia giggled.

Before Nameless could respond, Julia leaned upward and kissed him on the cheek. Nameless stared at her dumbfounded as she chuckled and jogged away. She sat in her seat, situated herself, and looked at him.

“What? You really thought I’d just let you one up me like that on the train?” Julia beamed as she strapped on her helmet. “Come back to me silly boy. Let’s go!”

Nameless laughed as her buggy took off. Sergeant Cooper walked over Nameless's dirt bike as he stood there, gathering the rest of the wolves. Nameless nodded in gratitude and mounted his bike. The wolves saluted.

Nameless revved his engine and tour away from the bunker. As he sped away, Aj climbed high into the sky in his hovercraft, the rest of the army marching forward, through the destruction, towards the city.