Berlin - Germany
11/17/2033, Orc Invasion Day
The sky over Berlin was heavier than usual. Thick, gray clouds hung over the city, like a harbinger that something terrible was about to happen. The air felt heavy, suffocating, and the unsettling atmosphere reflected the tension in the streets.
In front of the German Parliament, a crowd gathered in protest against yet another unpopular government measure. Thousands of people shouted slogans, raised signs, and demanded change. The spirit of revolt grew with each passing minute, but for many, it was just another ordinary day in the German capital. The demonstration proceeded like so many before it—chants, fiery speeches, and the inevitable police presence to contain any major disturbances.
However, what seemed like just another political event took an unexpected turn when the first raindrops began to fall. At first, it was just a light drizzle, but within seconds, it turned into a violent storm. The biting wind sent protest signs flying, and thunder echoed across the sky like war drums. But something was wrong. This was no ordinary storm.
The lightning began to strike in an unnatural manner—not scattered randomly, as nature usually did, but converging on a single point in the middle of the avenue. The air crackled with electricity, and the smell of ozone grew so strong that some people coughed and covered their noses. Then came the first flash. A bolt of lightning shot down from the sky, striking the asphalt with a deafening roar.
People nearby recoiled, frightened. But the phenomenon did not stop. Another bolt struck. And another. And another. Always in the same place, as if the storm itself was focusing all its fury on a single point. Some people began running away, while others, curious or unaware of the danger, pulled out their phones to record the strange event.
Then, everything happened at once.
A blinding light exploded from the center of the lightning strikes, dazzling everyone around. For a brief moment, the world seemed to become nothing but a white blur, devoid of shapes or shadows. Then, a brutal shockwave swept through the street, knocking people to the ground, shattering windows, and flipping parked cars as if they were mere toys. The protesters screamed, no longer against the government, but in terror at something they could not yet comprehend.
The police, who had until then merely observed the demonstration, quickly sprang into action. Officers shouted orders for everyone to disperse, trying to regain control of the situation. But then, they saw it.
In the middle of the avenue, where only cracked asphalt had been moments before, now stood a colossal, unknown structure. It looked like an immense vertical mirror, but its surface reflected nothing. Instead, it glowed with an intense, pulsating blue light, as if it were alive. The portal—for there was no other name for it—was of staggering proportions. Its height was equivalent to a thirty-story building, and its width followed the same scale.
The people were mesmerized. Fear and curiosity battled within each of them. Some kept filming, others began to approach, unable to resist the need to understand what this thing was.
Then came the first shots.
The sound was unlike anything they had ever heard. Not the usual gunfire from rifles or pistols. These were heavy, dry bursts, followed by deep, thudding echoes. The first victims never had a chance. The projectiles, which seemed more like rounds from automatic 20mm cannons, tore through the bodies of those closest to the portal. The impact was so brutal that some simply exploded into pieces, scattering blood and viscera across the street. Panic seized the crowd.
Screams echoed, mixed with the roar of gunfire. People ran frantically in every direction, some tripping over the fallen, others being trampled in the frenzy to escape. Police officers tried to fight back, drawing their weapons and firing at the portal, but they soon realized they weren’t just shooting at some anomaly.
Creatures began emerging from the structure.
They were enormous. Bipedal, standing between 2.5 and 3 meters tall, their bodies clad in crude yet intimidating armor. Some wore helmets with massive horns, while others left their monstrous faces exposed, revealing grotesque features and cold, emotionless eyes. Their hands gripped weapons that resembled assault rifles but with a brutal, archaic design. And unlike the humans, they did not hesitate.
The invaders opened fire on anything that moved. Civilians fell like leaves in the wind. Police officers tried to organize, forming makeshift barricades with cars and riot shields, but the firepower disparity was overwhelming. Some invaders fell under the police counterattack, but their resilience was astonishing. For every one that went down, three or four took its place.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The street quickly became a massacre. The ground was covered in blood, mutilated bodies, and destroyed vehicles.
— Fall back! Fall back! — one of the officers shouted, trying to carry a wounded comrade.
But there was nowhere to retreat. The German Parliament stood right ahead, and many of those fleeing were now rushing toward it, seeking shelter. It was a desperate choice, an attempt to escape from something none of them fully understood.
Then, a roar came.
Not a human roar, nor even that of an animal. It was a deep, guttural sound, something that vibrated in the bones and sent instincts screaming in terror.
More things were coming through the portal.
And the carnage had only just begun.
— We need immediate support! We are under attack! I repeat, Berlin is under attack!
---
THE FALL OF BERLIN
The Reichstag, one of Germany’s most iconic buildings, was about to become the last bastion of resistance in the capital. The Parliament, once a symbol of democracy and power, was now a stronghold for soldiers and police officers determined to hold back the enemy for as long as possible.
The city was already consumed by chaos. The invaders advanced through Berlin like an unstoppable tide, cutting through streets and turning entire neighborhoods into ruins. But inside and around the Parliament, human resistance persisted. Police officers, soldiers, and even some armed civilians erected makeshift barricades, stacking furniture and vehicles to create improvised trenches. They knew they wouldn’t survive, but they would do everything possible to ensure their sacrifice wasn’t in vain.
The first impact came like thunder. An explosion shook the Parliament’s remaining windows as the invaders pushed their way to the edges of the main square. The police responded with precise gunfire, their bullets piercing the crude armor of the more exposed enemies. The first orcs fell, but the advance didn’t slow.
When the monsters realized they were being targeted, they momentarily retreated—not out of fear, but strategy. Minutes later, a roar echoed through the streets, and suddenly, a new wave of enemies emerged—this time protected by heavy black iron shields. They advanced like a living wall of war, absorbing the gunfire and closing the distance rapidly.
The battle turned into brutal hand-to-hand combat.
The police used everything they had. Pistols, shotguns, automatic rifles. Some even resorted to melee weapons, using knives and batons to fight the invaders up close. But the difference in strength was overwhelming. The orcs, armed with heavy swords and crude axes, tore through humans as if they were made of paper. The Parliament’s floors were soon covered in blood and bodies.
For a brief moment, a group of soldiers managed to hold the main entrance, setting up machine guns in a narrow corridor and turning it into a slaughterhouse. But their advantage didn’t last. Explosions echoed through the halls, and the invaders began scaling the outer walls, breaking through windows and attacking from all sides.
The last defenders fell fighting. One by one.
And then, the Reichstag fell silent.
---
THE GREAT BATTLE ON BERLIN’S OUTSKIRTS
The capital was lost, but the German military wouldn’t go down without a fight.
On the outskirts of the city, the armed forces organized a massive counteroffensive. Leopard 2 tanks, Puma armored vehicles, and MARS II rocket launchers were assembled into a colossal attack line. The plan was simple: crush the invaders with the full might of artillery and reclaim as much of the city as possible.
The first shots came from the Panzerhaubitze 2000, the massive self-propelled howitzers that rained a storm of shells upon the enemy. The impact was devastating. The first orc platoons were annihilated, their disorganized formations turning into smoldering craters.
Then came the ground offensive.
A massive column of tanks rolled down the highways, clearing a path with bursts from their cannons and heavy machine guns. The enemy didn’t seem to have armored vehicles—at least not yet. In the first moments, the German army saw success, pushing the creatures back and reclaiming some areas on Berlin’s outskirts.
But then, the enemy revealed its own artillery.
Colossal creatures emerged on the horizon, mounted on what initially looked like a twisted version of war tanks. They were metal beasts, constructed with a grotesque, almost medieval design. Their hulls were covered in crude iron plates, and their cannons looked improvised, as if they had been ripped from old machines and reforged for war.
The first shot from one of these monsters struck a Leopard 2 head-on, piercing its armor like cardboard. The tank exploded instantly, sending flaming debris flying for meters.
The Germans were now facing an enemy that had an answer for every one of their weapons. The Puma vehicles attempted to flank them, only to be destroyed by explosive spears launched by the invaders. Enemy grenades were embedded into human tanks before detonating with brutal force.
The German offensive began to crumble.
The only advantage left to the humans was their air force. Eurofighter Typhoon jets and Tornado IDS tactical bombers cut through the skies, launching missiles and precision bombs against the enemy armor. The destruction was immense—entire ranks of orcs were obliterated by the explosions, and even their vehicles suffered heavy losses.
But there was a problem: the civilians.
Thousands were still fleeing along the roads leading out of Berlin. Entire families, on foot or packed into overloaded vehicles, tried to escape the massacre, making it nearly impossible to bomb the highways without causing collateral damage. Human air superiority was limited by the need to preserve lives.
And so, the orcish advance continued.
Over the next three days, the situation became desperate. The surrounding towns began to fall one by one. The invaders spared no one. Within 72 hours, over 400 km² had been taken, in addition to the nearly 900 km² of Berlin. It was an invasion on a scale never seen before, and the only possible conclusion was terrifying:
Millions of these creatures had already crossed the portal.