Prologue

I stood on the deck of the USS Missouri, feeling the gentle caress of the Pacific Ocean breeze against my face as I watched the sun rise over Kyushu island. It was the morning of August 7, 1945, a day destined to be etched in the annals of history. Deep within, I knew that our world was on the precipice of an irrevocable transformation because of my discovery.

As a dedicated researcher, I had devoted my life to the service of my country. Our world was engulfed in a global war, and we fought with unwavering determination to protect the cherished values we held dear. But on that fateful morning, as the first rays of light pierced through the ruins of Nagasaki, I bore witness to the unfathomable destruction and death inflicted by the malevolent presence unleashed upon our world. The city lay in ruins, its streets overrun by countless writhing tentacles of Messlia, the same glowing slimes that filled the confines of my lab. Twisted corpses lay submerged in the putrid mires, their expressions frozen in terror, their bodies invaded by Messlia's slugs and slime. Those unfortunate enough to survive were left with shattered minds, driven to madness, or reduced to a vegetative state by the mere sight of Her presence. The air carried a sickly-sweet musk, a haunting reminder of the horrors that had befallen us. A lump formed in my throat, and profound anguish and despair consumed me. The weight of guilt pressed heavily upon my conscience, and I questioned the righteousness of my allegiance to my country for the first time. I had unknowingly become the Harbinger of death, a creator of destruction, and the burden of my sins became unbearable. At that very moment, standing amidst the aftermath of the devastation, I made a solemn vow to myself. I would do everything I could to undo the research I had conducted and create insurmountable obstacles for any future attempts to harness such destructive power. Then, I disappeared from the public domain, severed all ties with the military and government, returned to Amelia University, and devoted my life to fabricating false results in my extraterrestrial studies before being dismissed because of my academic misconduct.

As I recount those harrowing moments now, decades later, I am filled with a rough mix of anger and sorrow. The war has long ended, decades have passed since those harrowing moments, and yet the scars of destruction still linger upon the world. Regardless of my effort, the world is still not at peace. The United States and the Soviet Union continued to vie for dominance, each wielding the weapons I had inadvertently brought into existence. The shadows of destruction loom large, and the risk of annihilation hovers over the world like a malevolent specter. Even though some peaceful usages of those alien creatures were developed, it is already being proven extremely risky, and they are not somethings meant to be dealt with at all.

Today, and right here, I must stop the melting biological reactors before they escape. Hopefully, people of the world will realize the necessity of cleansing the world of these menacing creatures after this incident. The path ahead is treacherous, but we must forge on. My suits are ready, I shall leave now.

Dave Petrov

Chornobyl, Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic

1986

Chapter 1 Cult

The moon shone brightly overhead as the members of the Expiators ventured deeper into the heart of the cult's territory. They were on a routine mission to suppress the cult's corrupt activities, but something felt different this time. The air crackled with unsettling energy, and their instincts warned them of an impending threat.

Among the Expiators was Sister Rachel Stevens, a seasoned heresy inquisitor known for her unmatched combat skills and ruthless approach to the cult. She led a team of loyal servants of God with determination and razor-sharp focus. Brother Ethan Ramirez, adept at gathering intel and providing tactical support with his ability to sense the presence of Harbingers telepathically, accompanied her. Ethan's senses were on high alert, detecting a tremendous concentration of Harbingers in the heart of the cult's den.

"Sister Rachel, we may need backup tonight," Ethan said. "Merciful God is warning me of the danger ahead, but let's look first so the backup team can be prepared. "His voice was laced with urgency.

Rachel, recognizing Ethan's warning, kept her composure and nodded. "Expiators, stay alert and push forward," she commanded her squad, their footsteps echoing throughout the forest.

As they cautiously made their way deeper into the cult's territory, the Expiators encountered overwhelming numbers of cultists. They were nearly naked, intoxicated with their frenzied dance, orgy, and murder. They recently raided a protectant village of the Church, kidnapped roughly everyone, including women and children, and killed the men or fed themselves and the slaves. The den of the cult was a snapshot of the hells. Amidst their cave lies a suspicious pot of boiling meat. It is human remaining; you can tell by the shapes of ribs and jaws. Rachel was raged by such blasphemy.

That heresy must be eliminated, or they would suffer an inquisition which is even more than death, Rachel thought.

At a distance, the Expiator were spotted even with the cover of darkness, if while they These zealots fought with unyielding fervor, displaying uncanny agility and strength. It was as if a hidden power fueled their every move.

Rachel and Ethan exchanged glances, their concern growing as they realized they faced a new breed of adversary. The cultists fought with precision and skill that exceeded their previous encounters. It was clear that something had changed within the ranks of the cult.

Amid the chaotic battle, a mysterious figure emerged from the shadows. Dressed in tattered robes and adorned with occult symbols of a goat skull, his face was grotesquely twisted, and he looked like a goat himself. His forearms are unusually longer as his six-fingered hands can reach the group easily without bending his legs. He exuded an aura of darkness and malevolence. This was no ordinary cultist. The Expiators were shocked: they were not expecting a Harbinger. They had brought the wrong equipment.

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Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the cult's territory, the Executioners scouts gather intelligence on the cult's unusual activities. Among them was Scout Sergeant Jason Anderson, a seasoned tracker known for his keen instincts and unmatched stealth. Accompanying him was Scout Corporal Laura Thompson, a skilled marksman with unwavering determination.

As the Executioner scouts observed the cultists in action, they marveled at their enhanced abilities. The scouts quickly realized that the cultists' newfound strength and resilience resulted from a dark influence, likely linked to a powerful Harbinger. They had yet to see the malevolent Harbinger cowering to the east of the battle.

Maintaining their distance and blending with the shadows, the scouts watched the cultists with intense focus. Jason's eyes utterly scanned the area, searching for signs of weakness or vulnerability. Laura adjusted her rifle. Her aim was steady, and she was ready to strike at a moment's notice.

But what they witnessed exceeded their expectations. The cultists moved with coordinated precision, their movements fluid and calculated. They displayed heightened agility and strength, easily overpowering their opponents. It was as if a higher intelligence guided them. Their actions synchronized in a deadly dance of destruction.

Jason whispered to Laura, his voice barely audible over the chaos unfolding before them. "These cultists... they're different. Their skills, their power... it's as if they are Harbingers themselves."

Laura nodded, her gaze fixed on the cultists. " "There's a malevolence in their eyes, a hunger for destruction. We gotta figure out what's givin' 'em this unnatural strength, you see."

As the scouts continued their surveillance, their attention was drawn to a figure standing apart from the rest of the cultists. He stood tall and imposing, his presence radiating an aura of pure darkness. His features were twisted, almost inhuman, as if he had become one with the shadows themselves. This was no ordinary cult member; he was something else entirely—a Harbinger in his own right.

Jason's heart skipped a beat. "Laura, we need to report this immediately. This Harbinger could be the source of their power. If we don't stop him, the cult will be unstoppable."

Laura nodded, her fingers gripping the rifle tighter. " Yup, I reckon. Let's gather all the information we can and report back to TerraNova. They gotta be aware of what we're facin',” Jason's eyes returned to the battle. Knowing they couldn't intervene directly to save their allies, his heart was heavy. "What about those Expiators? If we leave them like this, they'll be slaughtered."

Laura sighed, a mixture of frustration and determination in her voice. If anyone's fixin' to save 'em, it ain't gonna be us. Let's jot down every dang detail and snap some photos. We'll haul this information back to the base and holler for help pronto. Those Expiators deserve a chance at stayin' alive.

With unwavering resolve, the scouts continued their surveillance, capturing every detail they could about the Harbinger and the cult's activities. Their mission had taken an unexpected turn.

The Expiators fought valiantly against the cultists and their Harbinger, their weapons clashing with darkened blades and sinister energies. Rachel led the charge, her sword slicing through flesh and bones precisely and gracefully. Ethan used his telepathic abilities to anticipate the cultists' moves, providing strategic guidance to his fellow Expiators.

However, despite their skill and determination, the Expiators were disadvantaged. The cultists fought with otherworldly ferocity. The Expiators were pushed back, their numbers dwindling as they struggled to hold their ground.

Sister Rachel glanced over her shoulder; concern etched on her face as she saw her comrades overwhelmed. She knew they needed help, and they needed it fast. With resolute determination, she shouted to Ethan above the chaos.

"Ethan, we can't hold out much longer! We need backup. Get word to Sanctum Bay. Tell them we're facing a powerful Harbinger and affiliates!"

Ethan nodded, focusing his telepathic abilities to establish a mental connection with the Expiator HQ. He transmitted the urgency of the situation, relaying the details of the cult's enhanced skills and the presence of the Harbinger.

Meanwhile, Scout Sergeant Jason and Scout Corporal Laura maintained their surveillance from the outskirts of the cult's territory. They had gathered valuable information: their mission was to report back to TerraNova and request immediate assistance.

Jason urgently spoke to his communicator. "This is Scout Sergeant Jason Anderson requesting immediate backup, not for us, but for the Expiators. The cultists have been enhanced by a powerful Harbinger. The Expiators are in grave danger, and they need reinforcements immediately!"

The response came swiftly, crackling through the communication device. "Acknowledged, Scout Sergeant Anderson. Reinforcements are on their way. Hold your position and provide support to the Expiators. We will neutralize the Harbinger threat."

Relief washed over Jason as he received the confirmation. Now they knew they did not leave their allies in the lurch. However, Jason wanted to do more for the Expiators.

"Laura, we can't just stand here and watch. We need to assist them until the reinforcements arrive. Aim for his head, see what happens.’"

Laura nodded, her fingers gripping her rifle tightly. "I doubt our rifles can kill him, but we can create chaos. Let's stay one step ahead of him; let’s do ‘hit and run."

As the Expiators continued their valiant struggle, the presence of the scouts became known to the cultists after sudden gunshots echoed through the air. Jason and Laura coordinated their movements, targeting the Harbinger's goat head with bullets. The cultists were surprised, and the Harbinger, though not visibly injured, let out an angry roar. The Harbinger grew more furious with each shot and viciously pursued Jason and Laura. The Harbinger abandoned his human moving pattern…

Jason and Laura quickly fell into a rhythm, firing and maneuvering precisely. They used their stealth and agility to their advantage, constantly on the move, never giving the Harbinger a moment's respite. The cultists became disoriented, their attacks becoming more erratic as their leader faced a relentless assault. His attention was no longer on his affiliates.

Their actions bought precious time for the struggling Expiators, allowing them to regroup and launch counterattacks. The tides of the battle began to shift as the Expiators, reinvigorated by the support, fought back with renewed determination.

Knowing their primary mission was to survey, Jason and Laura eventually escaped, their retreat covered by the advancing Expiators. They ran back towards the rendezvous point, their minds filled with relief and urgency.

As they reached TerraNova, they handed over their gathered intelligence and detailed report, ensuring that their superiors were fully informed of the Harbinger's presence and the dire situation faced by the Expiators. The fate of the Expiators now rested in the hands of Veritas.