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37: A Quiet Reality

Sergeant Mike Randall, 75th Ranger Regiment, United States Army…

Being a soldier of the world’s most powerful military was something to not only be proud of, but it was something admired by people all over the world, and it was feared by the enemy of the homeland. Not only was he a soldier, but he was a Ranger, one of the world’s premier light infantry fighting forces that found a home amongst the other Special Operation Forces like the Navy SEALS, PJs, Marine Raiders, and Green Berets.

Yet here he lay in a void of black as far as his shut eyes could see. At each horizon his unconscious mind was engulfed in an overwhelmingly dark hue, and here he was aware of it the entire time. He asked himself over and over, “What am I doing here?”, he wasn’t dead, and he wanted to be.

Why had he come so close to death? First it was Africa, then Peshawar, and now in passing of the ruins of Stragea, those around him had fallen to the Grim Reaper, he did not. He laid in darkness, living, and breathing, his mind coming to fruition as his body began the process of awakening.

He let out a light groan as his eyes slowly opened a small amount. His vision was limited and almost blinding. The blurred and muddy image disoriented him as he took the next few minutes repeating the same process of slightly opening his eyes and closing them. His sense of touch came back as pins and needle flooded his arms and legs, he found it annoying as he finally succeeded in opening his eyes fully.

Letting himself adjust to the new environment, the intense blinding light slowly normalized out as he focused on the white solid roof above him. The pressure of the comforter laying on his became noticeable as he began to find the strength to move his body. Grasping the white bed sheets and manila colored comforter, it took him two minutes to successfully prop himself up against the wall which his bed frame laid on.

His mind drifted from the last thing he remembered, the firefight just beyond the ruins of the grand, forgotten city, to the sudden lack of feeling around his chest area. It alarmed him as he slowly looked down at the medical gown he currently wore, he took his right hand and gently compressed the fabric against his chest; he gained to immediate reaction, which concerned him greatly.

Looking to his right, Mike stared at a world of white. Snow fell against the large window that adorned his room. Each snowflake gently settled on the world beyond, yet he felt trapped in this unknown place, this white wonderland. Such a place surprised him as the last thing he remembered was being immobilized within the golden wheat fields just beyond Stragea.

He thought death arrived for him.

Fighting a magician capable of more than just Nullification Magic scarred him and Lecca, that much he could remember. Awakening in the field only the be knocked out by what he could guess was some sort of crowd control chemical agent made him frown as he gripped his comforter tightly.

They had failed their missions. Neither objective was complete, they had yet to reach a safe place, and they had yet to commence reconnaissance against the “Demon Lord”. What was wore was that one of their own had died before they even grew near to the target area, it was more than a tragedy, it was a tactical failure by all involved.

His hand trembled as he mustered some resolve to investigate the room around him.

Before he knew it, his brown eyes laid upon a woman sleeping on her arms on the surface of his bed. Silver hair was strung along the fabric of his bed, and pale porcelain skin was hidden by the sleeves of a form fitting white dress and a large brown coat.

Her hand was covering his own, it had seemed she had fell asleep not long ago. His eyes soften as he tugged his hand free and placed her arms in a more comfortable position. The sudden movement stirred the young maiden, yet she did not wake as Mike took several minutes to find the strength to stand up straight with his aching body.

After finding his thoughts and formulating a plan of action, Mike checked the nearby cabinet within the room finding black dress pants, shoes, a white undershirt, and button-down shirt, suspenders, and a pair of black socks. It was obvious that somebody had placed this here for him, and it wasn’t one of his teammates.

With some skepticism, Mike took the clothing devices and walked into a small restroom. Before he undressed from his medical gown, he looked in the mirror and brushed his hand against the small amount of facial hair that had grown on his face. Spotting a single blade on the counter, Mike hesitated before he turned on the water of the sink before him and placed the blade against his neck.

His breaths grew heavy as he slowly finished cutting off the small amount of hair that had grown on his face. Soon after he finished dressing with some degree of difficulty as his body ached and pained at every major movement, but thereafter, he walked out of the room dressed nicely and somewhat freshened up. He surprisingly didn’t smell horridly, so he supposed someone had come to clean him while he was unconscious.

Staring at the clothes that adorned his body made felt wrong. Here he was waking up in an unknown building with nothing except the clothing he now had on his back. No intel, no back-up, no gear, no plans…

“Mike…?”

The man in question snapped to the quiet bell-like voice that had called out his name. Walking around the corner, the Sergeant spotted Princess Lecca looking at his now empty bed with widening eyes. The limited light from the sun peered through the window and painted her in a heavenly glow, her silver hair fell neatly over her shoulder in a single side plait.

“Hey.” He said in a gravelly voice gaining her attention. “I apologize for waking you.”

With a small limp in his steps, the sergeant slowly sat on his head facing the princess. The fair maiden looked at him in the eyes with a worried gaze, her hands quickly retracted from their resting positions on her lap, and she used her left had to brush aside some strands of silver hair that covered her face, the sun’s light highlighting her every move and feature.

“No-you didn’t.” She quietly lied placing a beautiful smile on her face.

“So-uh…” Mike stumbled over his words as his eyes remained locked with Lecca’s. “How long was I out?”

“Just a week.” The princess said bluntly while rubbing a small red gemstone in her hands. Her subtle movements caught the attention of Mike, yet he said nothing. His mind was elsewhere as he tried to calm himself from storming out of the room to find his fellow Rangers.

Silently breathing, Mike recomposed himself as he glanced down at the clothing he was wearing. “Where are we?” He asked turning his gaze back to Lecamaradel.

“We are in the Federation of Zivaland.” She curtly responded.

“Ziva-land?”

Before Mike could receive the answer, he was looking for, the door to his room suddenly swung open. A man with jet-black hair and blue eyes fixed his suit jacket before exchanging glances with the two people before him, now staring at him with confusion in their eyes.

“Ah, Mr. Randall, I am glad to see that you are finally awake.”

Mr. Phillips watched as the man suddenly stood from his bed with some difficulty; he moved in front of Chieftain Arish in a protective manner as he placed distance between her and Mr. Phillips. The investigator and interrogator took note of this sudden action as Mr. Randall spoke in a weary yet hostile manner.

“Who are you? Where the hell am I?” Mike said as he momentarily glanced at a nearby mirror. He equipped a more neutral posture as he saw that Lecca had not yet reacted in any negative manner to the man that had just entered his room.

“I apologize for not introducing myself earlier, but you were in a medically induced coma due to the nature of your injuries.” Mr. Phillips suddenly responded in a business-fitting manner. “I formerly welcome you to the Zivaland Federation. I hoped that Ms. Leccamaradel has assisted you in adjusting to this country?”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of?” Mike answered. “I think I woke up less than thirty minutes ago?”

Phillips let out a soft huff as he grinned at the confused Sergeant before him. “Either way, please get yourself together, we need to depart immediately. Both of you need to come.” He said before turning around and walking out the only doorway.

Taking a deep breath, Mike stumbled on himself as he attempted to sit on his bed once more. He caught himself on the wooden pillar that was a part of the bed frame, yet that didn’t stop Leccamaradel from springing from her seat to catch him by the arm.

“My bad.” Mike said in a quiet voice as he forced himself up still being held by the princess. The woman beside him chuckled as she kept grip of his arm. “No-it’s no issue.” She said in an equally quiet voice.

Walking side by side out the door, the two greeted Mr. Phillips and his guard armed with nothing but an unfamiliar handgun. After describing what the day held for the two, they set off to their next destination, the local judicial court no less than twenty minutes away from the military instillation they currently occupied.

From the warm interior of the building, they once stayed in, Mike almost froze as his body began to shake at the sudden gently cold air he walked into. Being handed a suit jacket by one of the building’s staff, white snow began to collect on his body, his breath being visible as he stared at the sky.

Beside him, Lecca was acting in a child-like manner as she huffed several times to see her breath, as she used her hands to try and catch a snowflake.

It wasn’t long before a medium sized car pulled up. Mike glanced at the vehicle with curiosity as he was forced inside to the somewhat comfortable leather seats inside. The princess sat nervous beside him as soon the vehicle lunged forward churning snow from its tires.

As the ride began in silence, Mr. Phillips was passed a briefcase by his guard, and he withdrew a sheet of paper as he addressed the two foreigners sitting across from him. “To get you two up to speed, the government has already cleared you all for official entry into the Federation; our trip to the local court is to register you all into the local systems, basically, we just want to keep things “legal.” He said this while eyeing the silver-haired woman sitting next to Sergeant Randall.

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“That’s were our first problem arrives.” He said making the two freezes. “You see, everyone in the Federation at least has a given name and family name. You Ms. Lecca, you do not have a family name. Either you don’t have one, or you have just refused to provide it up until now…”

Pressing her fingers into the leather seat she sat in, Lecca stared at the man as she tried to calm herself. Her initial reaction was to escape the “metal” carriage she rode in currently with Mike in tow, yet it was such a normal question she was surprised she over-reacted to it. Her train of thought was suddenly cut off as the “carriage” rolled over a dirt road. The answer she had prepared was the ultimate risk, but it would also be necessary if she were to remain hidden in plain sight.

“My name is Leccamaradel Arish.” She said forgoing her middle name of “Emma”.

Mike bit the inside of his mouth as his eyes widened and his body tensed. He was alarmed by the sudden revelation the princess had just made to the men within the car. He had gathered before the sudden trip that Mr. Phillips and his government did not know the identity of Lecca since they had referred to her as “Chieftain”, it provided him with a sense of fear as Mr. Phillips looked at the princess with non-moving eyes.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t have provided that earlier but thank you Ms. Arish.” Phillips said as he took out a small note pad and pen.

Noticing Mike’s distressed look, Lecca’s calm brown eyes told him “Don’t worry,” making him release the tension in his body as the car came to a slow stop. Looking out the small windows behind her, the princess set her sights on the vast snow-covered fields that stretched seemingly forever, the sun’s burning rays occasionally broke through the grey skies and shined upon the land.

The young woman sat in the chair, her fingers moving slowly over the pristine leather as the world around her began to move once more. Her eyes scanned over the moving horizon, and soon she found herself staring at the now closing town Mr. Phillips had said they’d visit within the hour. A replay of the final attack she fell to had replayed on repeat in her mind, she bit her lower lip anxiously as her eyes drifted back to Mike and Mr. Phillips.

Eyeing the documents Mr. Phillips held in his hands, she found her mind wondering; the entire time she and her men had come under the custody of the Federation, there was an irregular amount of interrogations that happened at random intervals, each person interrogating had asked several randomized sets of questions. It was pure chaos during each session.

What was the Federation’s goal?

Who were they looking for?

Why did so many people come to them alone, to her alone?

“Just a question: how did I recover so fast?” Mike suddenly said breaking the silence. “I had broken ribs and God knows what else was wrong with my body. I should still technically be bed sick.”

Mr. Phillips shared a small smile. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were summoned by the Kingdom of Yondel to this world?”

“Yes.”

“Are you familiar with magic?”

“Yes.”

Satisfied with the answers provided, Mr. Phillips found it easier to explain the way Sergeant Randall was medically treated during his tenure within the military hospital.

“There are six classes of magic. Nullification is more commonly known as “The Ancient Arts”, thus it has been decided that it would not be counted amongst the more traditional classes due to rarity: One of our many doctors took the time to work with two other nurses in healing your wounds. With minimal invasive surgery, primarily so that we could identify what parts of your body were needing to be healed, the three were able to have your body fully healed in a single night. You were knocked unconscious with a special drug to ensure your recovery, the remnants of the drug should be gone by the time you urinate, but please let us know if there are any complications.”

Digesting all the information given to him about his recovery, Mike gulped, “Yes… sir…” There were several things he needed to understand about the new situation he was half-hazard thrown into. It was critical that he and the others gained knowledge and intel about the Federation and what the country had planned for them all.

Accommodations would be a start. Theoretically they could try to push the government that oversaw them to provide them with enough funds to buy such a place, yet that alone led to a problem; killing soldiers of this country, then asking them to provide a temporary residency would be heavily scrutinized if they even got past the first round of interviews to acquire the necessary funds.

Everyone had failed to mention that being in this “Federation” meant that they were being watched at every move. It would be difficult enough to gather money legally but imagine the consequences of letting foreign Special Operation Forces run around the nation gathering resources illegally.

Looking out the window to the town they now slowly strolled through, Mike spotted citizens walking on the concrete sidewalks and other unfamiliar cars driving down the paved roads. He assumed that some amongst the population were personnel that worked for the same organization that Mr. Phillips was a part of, but it would also be plausible to guess that other governmental and local organizations such as Law Enforcement walked the beat path out on patrol.

Something odd though caught the Sergeant’s eye, several soldiers with rifle walked alongside men dressed in black suits. The soldiers were obviously military due to the uniforms they wore, yet the other armed persons loitered around several alleyways, seemingly waiting for something to happen.

A myriad of questions ran through his mind.

He didn’t have time to formulate an answer as the vehicle he rode in suddenly came to a halt in front of a large square, brick building.

“Helios has arrived.” The driver of the vehicle spoke softly into his cuffed right wrist as he readjusted his suit jacket and white undershirt. He no doubt was speaking to his superior or supervisor that was acting in a similar manner to that of a Tactical Operations Controller.

“Welcome to the town of Oceana, home of some of the greatest sea food!” Mr. Phillips cheerfully said as he climbed out of the vehicle allowing his two passengers to exit behind him.

Keeping close to Mike out of fear, Lecca looked all around her, her brown eyes traced over the large buildings and clusters of people that surrounded her. She had once been to large sprawling bazaars throughout the kingdom she was born in, but the technologically advance city around her was unfamiliar; it both scared her and made her intrigued of the inaccuracies of these nations she and her men would walk in the fore coming future.

As she breathed out, her breath being visible due to the freezing cold air, snowflakes fell upon her pale skin as the agent that introduced them to this new city guided them towards a square-shaped brick building just at the end of the block they were on.

The Firs-Born Princess looked over her shoulder, her silver hair falling over one of her eyes. The trail that they had left on top of the snow was swiftly being swept away by the many pedestrians that walked the city streets. Turning back, she and the others walked inside the building where two guards stood at a side door and several receptionists handled several civilians that spoke to them.

“Not sure if either of you know what this building is, or what is supposed to do…” Mr. Phillips said as he walked to one of the free receptionists. “This place is the local court; we’re here to register you all as civilians and refugees.” He said making Mike raise an eyebrow.

The sergeant huffed as he spoke looking around the cozy interior, “Guess this isn’t much different than how America works…?” He said to himself.

“Indeed.” All three turned to the sudden voice that came from the male receptionist who was handling several documents laid across hi stable. “This place handles local judiciary issues and helps law enforcement with a variety of tasks. I assume you are coming from one of our sister-nations?” He asked looking at the princess with a curious gaze.

“Something like that.” Phillips replied as he took out a small booklet and handed it to the man. “There was a problem, and we were hoping it could be delt with here.”

Looking at the insignia that covered the booklet, the man’s eyes widened as he set his gaze upon the silver phoenix and golden flowers that were etched onto the cover. “Right away sir.” He said curtly as he opened the booklet to confirm Phillip’s identity. “I’ll talk to my director, see if we can’t get you in within the hour.” The man said walking with a set of blank documents and the booklet in his hands.

“Special privileges huh…” Mole commented as the man turned around readjusting his suit jacket.

“Don’t let it get to your head, it’s not like I can get you a free ride to the capital or anything.” Mr. Phillips laughed as he once more guided the two towards a small side table within the building.

Taking his seat Mike sat silently alongside Lecca as Phillips withdrew a small journal from his suit jacket. “I know that you both are probably tired of the interrogations, especially you ma’am, but there are some things I would like to know off the record. Primary things that pertain to your personal lives.”

Mike looked at each corner of the building they were in before turning back with a concerned look. “Why would you want to do that? Wouldn’t it be better to have it on record?” He asked while exchanging glances with the silver-haired woman beside him.

“Yes, but there are some things I believe would be better not to be shared with my superiors or government.” The agent responded with a faint smile on his lips.

This time, Lecca glanced around the room looking for anyone that would perhaps be eavesdropping on their conversation with the intelligence agent. “I really doubt that whatever we say is going to stay with you alone…” She commented with a disappointed look on her face.

Looking defeated, Phillips sighed before he continued, “That’s fine, but seriously, you both are buzzkills…”

Wearing a disappointed expression that rivaled that of the silver-haired woman beside him, Mike sighed as he stared at the wooden table below him, “What the hell have we gotten into? I did not sign up for shit like this when I joined the army…”

Lecca hummed, “In addition to being summoned to this world, the current you are also lacking your weapons and armor.”

“Don’t remind me.” Mike said bitterly as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. She chuckled lightly to herself as the receptionist from before exited into the hall with a clipboard in his hands. Quietly walking with a pale look on his face, the intelligence agent sitting across from the two foreigners focused up as the man leaned next to his ear.

“Thank you, we’ll make this quick…” Mr. Phillips said as he suddenly stood from his seat reaching his hand out to Mike and Lecca. “My apologies, but it seemed the court has postponed your official certifications. Now, how about some lunch?”

“Lunch…?” The silver-haired princess parroted with a confused expression as she and the soldier next to her rose from their seats.

“C’mon, I know a great place with some of the best lobster you’d ever had.” Phillips said as he donned his hat before walking outside with the two in tow.

Lecca was once again captivated the city she was in and how it was covered in a pristine white snow, though he captivation was now muddied by her coming across an odd sight as she and the others walked down the now barren sidewalks. The wind picked up and her dress folded against her body as her brown eyes drew towards a large crowd gathering around the middle of the town; there a statue stood over them, the color had faded, yet the spear that was outheld towards the sun.

Using his arm and hat to hide his eyes, Mr. Phillips remained silent as the wind brushed his winter coat. He clicked his tongue, and in an instant, the three departed once more. The snow drift hid their steps as the quite allure of the midday sun momentarily warmed their bodies as they continued through the frozen city.

Mike’s breaths remained constant as he calmed himself. Something had obviously happened, yet he wouldn’t find out.

That much bothered him to where he kept looking for a way out.

Stopping momentarily for a coffee, Mr. Phillips obtained his cup from the back-alley shop. “Tasty…,” He hummed drinking the burgundy-colored liquid, a fair amount of steam escaping from the cup and now his lips. He did offer to buy the two foreigners a cup, yet they chose to refuse rather than accept.

During the silent walk there was a game between the three; it was a game to determine what to make of each other and what they were hiding.

Mike focused on the body language that Mr. Phillips displayed.

Lecca took note of the man’s demeanor and how he interacted with the civilians around the city.

Mr. Phillip kept watch of both of their eyes and hands, looking for a reason to bring up a new topic to distract them from the talk they were privy too involving the receptionist. What he was told was something he was himself surprised of: Three hours ago, a bug-demon hybrid was spotted at the outskirts of the capital.

The threat was nothing that the response teams couldn’t handle, yet this was their first assignment in ten years. Perhaps an investigation would be opened in the domestic branch, though it would be better for him not to get his hopes up.

Publicly Available Information: Intelligence Agencies:

Each mission of the Intelligence Agencies (IA) within the Federation varies from Foreign Internal Defense, Internal Mission Defense, Diplomatic Defense, and Foreign Intelligence Gathering operations. Though the primary directive is to secure the safety of the motherland in the shadows…

In total there are 3 intelligence communities within the Federation of Zivaland:

Office of Homeland and Foreign Intelligence (OHFI)

Office of Military and Federal Security (OMFS)

National Intelligence Agency (NIA)