The underground path led to the current day being neither sunny nor rainy by any stretch. Darkness was all that there was, giving Mike limited visibility. Even with the humid conditions below ground, the environment he was in was perfect for a gunfight, there would be no need for complex maneuvers, just shooting.

For today’s mission, he and the rest of the fireteam under Lecca’s command had their lives unbearable as they tracked the ruins below the city of Viridis. He himself had been busy being the spearhead towards the ruins that Lecca had detected… Granted, he would’ve have done the same either way, but at least he could fully rationalize that what they were doing would have an end.

Trudging on, through the pitch-black darkness, following the bricks and stone that had given way to natural rock formations. Each step they took was only made possible by Jamie’s helmet light. Reluctantly opting to use a single light source, they slowly crawled through the labyrinth. Their next destination, however, was clear enough to not need well-crafted directions. Chem lights were left behind them so that navigation to the surface was a viable option, and they wouldn’t have to worry about taking their time.

Silence surrounded them, and he enjoyed every second of it. His boots pressing into the damp rocks and their half-tightened gear shaking on their bodies, each of their steady breaths. The natural ambience was enough to make them move at a steady pace, neither in a rush or to waste time. Only at two locations did they locate any discrepancies within these caverns. Oils that came from skin were more than capable of desecrating the age-old rocks. And here they found recent evidence of destruction.

Rook had opted to find a trail to track the unknowns, but he was quickly shot down. If he went alone, if he were attacked, his death would be immediate. His worries would be quenched as the four came across a pair of footprints, those from boots they did not recognize. Perhaps they belonged to a civilian, there was always the possibility that an unfortunate soul wandered the dark until their death.

At that point was when Mike had once more opted to hold his rifle in his hands instead of over his shoulder. His eyes peered into nothingness hoping to find any sigh of a person or object moving through the void ahead. As they continued their trek through to the ruin’s entrance, they would make five momentary stops as they found more and more distractions. Scanning the deformations in the rocks, the staff sergeant could only pray for their safety.

As they got closer to the entrance, Lecca found herself casting vats of mana. Each time she cast magic, the cloud would get more and more reactive. She retained her composure, but deep within her she was ecstatic at the thought of uncovering one of the Architect’s gifts to humanity. Mother Juna was one such person that used such gifts to help her future reach an unrecorded age of civilization. Her tightly clenched hands, and perfectly straightened lips did not go unnoticed. Mike was the only one who knew her well enough to notice the ever-so-miniscule shift in her mannerism. She was a “war princess”, one that did not deserve the title of royalty.

Lecca had underlying guilt. She never wanted war, yet here she was finding a relic that could escalate the conflict. She was fighting for her people, but would she fight for her people? Of course, the princess told herself. To make any headway to restore peace, she knew that a coup, one full of violence, was the only solution. That’s the option President Harding had taught her.

At a large wooden entrance, one more than twenty feet tall, the four stood at the center. The door had been untouched for an untold amount of time. Evidence of previous trespassers laid around them, bones, skulls, and forgotten weaponry.

Weapons raised, two men, Jamie and Rook stood at the center. They closed off the only way in and out with extreme prejudice. Such a single action was not meant to be a major undertaking, just point and shoot. This, however, was a checkpoint, one where it was the last chance for anyone to have second thoughts.

Rubbing a thumb on his rifle’s bolt, Mike only gave a single order, “Breach.” He calmly said. Grasping onto the abnormally large silver handle, Rook forced the door open with a load groan.

“The Reclaimers. Princess Leccamaradel’s elite.” Following Mike’s lead, Rook and Jamie activated their secondary lights using them to scan the cramped and slippery cavern.

Lecca narrowed her eyes, “The Architects are aged old beings, ones that hold creation of this domain. Bullets and blades will do nothing to them.”

“What about mother Juna?” Mike asked. “Isn’t she supposed to be a saint, the one who created what is the kingdom today? Seems odd that the Architects exist.”

Rook grunted as he corrected the staff sergeant, “Mother Juna was the founder of the kingdom. She isn’t a saint, nor a God. What we’re in is a relic made for the Architects, someone made this in their name to hide unknown technology, one that could either drive humanity into the future or send us back to hitting each other with sticks. Some numb skull believed in such shit, and no doubt that person hid it from those in power, be it local warlords or government representatives. Armed conflict was never on the menu between humanity and those above, they just want to prevent any more meddling than is necessary. Perhaps it was to advance their careers? I mean how else would they have pulled the material to build that large fucking door.”

“If people knew about this technology, and they had the means to find them—” Mike asked.

Lecca shrugged, “Humanity always focused on what was in front of it. Old relics were often written of by governments as a waste of resources. And truth be told they were right. Feeding their population and making sure they didn’t revolt against the standing leaders was always more important than spending years just discovering such ruins.”

“What, are you calling President Harding a retard?” Jamie snorted.

“Obviously not, kid.” Mike coughed.

Tucked into his shoulder, the wood and metal rifle the staff sergeant held was poised to the darkness surrounding him and his fireteam. He hated standing in the open, standing without cover. Ever fiber of his being told him to hit the deck and prepare for a sudden ambush, yet each waking second proved him wrong. Nothing emerged from the void, and as the four beams of light emerging from the paratroopers unveiled what was hidden within, his pulse slowly grew to a creeping halt.

Amongst the ruins, skeletons of past dwellers littered the floor. Gold, silver, pure steel could not stop their untimely demise. Would lead, brass, and fatigues make the difference? Of course not, Mike answered. Magic was the equalizer here. Leccamaradel was the only one that could bring life back to those that ventured deep below the surface of the planet. His hands tightened, turning pale white against the weathered and tempered wood. What could he do? What has he even done to make a difference?

Nothing.

That was his answer.

Rook blinked, “Now’s not the time to be distracted, staff sergeant.”

Mike stared at the stoic gunman for a moment. “Distracted?”

“You’re staring at the princess,” Rook said. “Just making sure you’re thinking straight.”

That’s hard to argue, Mike thought. The silence that followed was not awkward, nor acknowledged by the four. Listening to the darkness, checking every nook and cranny with three beaming lights, they had to be sure. And with that directive, the staff sergeant stared at the light on Rook’s weapon as it rose from ground level and up towards the ceiling. He peered down the metal post sights and followed the ever-shifting circle of light.

He wasn’t a fool, there was something, or someone watching them. No one would have just let them enter the ruins without contest.

Ah, there it is…

In silence, the four turned their rifles. Even with the ROE they had, no one fired a shot to that of something with perceived hostilities. Four different barrels was pointed at the target. Each line was pointed at a different part of the body, the head, legs, chest, and left arm. For why they didn’t fire? Their target was nothing more than the size of a child, however, even with its human features, it was clearly obvious from the pure white skin that it wasn’t human.

First contact—At least since the Great War.

This was the only chance for peaceful contact. To find an answer to why they even decided to storm this damned underground facility.

Still, it was inhuman.

It was a threat by its mere existence. There would be no qualms within engaging—

At the twitch of a muscle, three rifles fired.

Four seconds, thirty-seven bullets. Twelve tore through the head sending purple liquid onto the wall. Fifteen bullets cut through the chest sending body matter to the floor. Five shattered the frail legs. And the final five dislocated and severed the left arm and shoulder. The hail went silent. Mike racked the bolt of his rifle once more, curious on why the princess had yet to fire her weapon. Too much damage? He thought, recalling the destruction she caused within the frozen forest.

Still standing strong, the unknown being watched as Mike unloaded his rifle and inserted five fresh bullets.

Though they were deep underground, the staff sergeant had the sneaking suspicion that the city high above had heard the horde of gunshots.

Raising a single hand, Rook shook his five fingers left to right. Hand signals were different than that of the system developed by the U.S Army, but Mike had become accustomed to the new language in a matter of months. Breathless, the four drifted apart from one another. Providing just enough space so that they wouldn’t all be cut down if the being were to attack. Rook naturally was the one to initiate first contact beyond the storm of lead. He stepped forward confidently with each step he was taking. His black carbine was held at his side. The caliber of each shot he had already taken tore the monster-like being into nothing but Swiss cheese. To say that he was overconfident was an understatement.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Don’t try that shit again, kid!” Rook ordered. He did not let the irony slip past him.

Slowly turning its head to the masked man in front of him, the child-like monster stared with lifeless black eyes. The specialist could only look back through the metal gunsight on his rifle. It was too close quarters to use his magnified optic, so the experienced rifleman watched the eye through the peep sight. His finger hovered over the trigger, ready to put another ten bullets through the head.

“What the hell are you?”

“You’re really going to ask that?” Jamie groaned, “After we just shot the thing?”

“We can interrogate it?”

Rook seemed unsure of himself.

The moist underground cavern made Mike uncomfortable. The being just watched them. Doing absolutely nothing after the first muscle twitch. The two light sources focused solely on the child. Lecca was staring at it with a conflicted expression. If this is what her men fought to secure all those years ago, why hadn’t they come across it, let alone report it to her? She was their commanding officer, the field officer that made sure they returned home every mission during the Campaign to stop revolutionary forces.

There was a layer of doubt that the Reclaimers would be different than what had happened in the past.

“So, what do we do, princess?” Jamie asked.

Holding her gaze on the monster, she felt her left hand cover her stomach. “I—don’t know.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. This was the second time she covered her abdomen.

“Hey where the fuck is it?” To Rook’s shout, the three focused solely on his voice.

Where the being once stood, there was nothing but purple blood.

Mike looked towards the pitch black surrounding them, “Did it walk away?”

“No! Fuck no! I was watching it the entire time!”

“And it just disappeared?” Jamie groaned once more.

Returning to silence, the four scanned the darkness. The air around them was heavy. And all they could do was remain on alert with two lights and four barrels. No time for SSE… Mike was beginning to fear the silence. The dark was something he could deal with. However, even in the darkest of places you could always hear things, smell things, feel things. He could only feel his breath. The air around him grew colder by the second. Even then, flashes of heat crossed his body. The staff sergeant never tore his eyes away from the gunsights as he waited for the right moment to pull the trigger.

Yet nothing. Whatever, whoever. Nothing came. It was an eerie, peaceful silence. This environment was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Mike had never been in underground warfare training. There was only one FTX that he had even remotely close to a cavern. But EOD had taken that mission as it was an ammo dump.

“They are not the same attackers.”

The beams of light slowly converged and separated.

“Affiliations are unknown. The method of operation does not match that of the MO of previous groups.”

“What can we confirm? Do we have a response?”

Along with the feminine voice, a male voice spoke.

“This—I don’t know.”

“Do we have any other choice?”

Lecca let out a shaky breath. Her arms burned. She did not know how much longer this would last. Every fiber of her existence told her to run. Told her to hide. Told her to die. However, she focused on the air around her. The gun she held waved around checking every hidden corner. She had felt a breath. It wasn’t hers, and it wasn’t her fireteam’s.

Someone else was present in the room.

Mike was to her left. The other two paratroopers were marked by the beams of light coming from their gear.

A breath…

Planting her foot into the ground, turning swiftly onto her heel, Lecca swiftly raised her shouldered rifle and pointed it into nothingness. Mike had taught her how to use a gun. The Federation of Zivaland nurtured her skill of precision. Now, she did not know where the bullet would land. As her finger compressed the trigger, she knew that firing would break every rule she had lived by. All she could do was fall back on the human instinct for survival.

One chance.

Lecca chose her answer.

Following through with the pull of the trigger, the thunder of the anti-material bullet she fired shook the entire room. With only a single flash of burning smoke to light the darkness, the decompression wave from the bullet sent the dust in the room outwards and made her silver locks flutter from the force. She coughed from the buttstock forcing itself deeper into her shoulder, and she gagged at the taste of the smoke that she had inhaled. The pressure of the bullet ripped through the air and had landed on the target that Lecca intended to hit. By miracle she heard a body fall to the ground, and she calmed her beating heart as the beams of light disturbed by the gunfire shined where she was standing.

“Lecca!”

The voice was all too familiar.

“Princess Leccamaradel.”

“Shut up!” She screamed.

Raising her right hand, the metal bolt racked a second bullet into the chamber.

“Lecca!”

“Pull the trigger. I’m already dead.”

“Shut up!” Lecca cried.

“There will be generations because of you.”

Pulling the trigger, the force of the bullet was doubled.

Stumbling from the recoil, Lecca bit her tongue and spit out blood as she felt a warm substance on her legs. Before she could raise the rifle again, she felt a firm arm hugging her shoulders. A hot breath tickled her neck, and instantly collapsed into the arms of her lover. “Hey, Lecca.” His earnest voice reached out to her. Laying on top of the Reclaimer, the princess let go of her weapon, letting it disintegrate into nothingness.

Keeping her eyes wide open, she was blinded by a flash of light as the cavern was lit by minuscule balls of mana that grew every second.

“Hey! Hey! I’m here!” Mike hugged her as tightly as he could muster. His left hand stroked her head.

“Jamie!” Rook shouted, snapping his rifle up.

“On it!” Thumbing the magazine release on his rifle, the young man removed the box and stared into the brass sitting at the top. With a click of his tongue, he slammed it back into the magazine well, ensuring that it had sat correctly. “You see it too?”

“It’s the same fuckers that compromised the Providence mission.”

Raising his head, Mike looked at the two riflemen as they kept their rifles peered down a single, man-made hallway. “Rook.” He said holding the princess in his arms even tighter. From where he was knelt, the staff sergeant watched as a shadow moved from behind the bend in the hall. It was not the same as the being that was just killed. It was of human shape, clothing and movement.

The purple hue around the human slinked away behind the hall.

Reporting in the chamber, the gunfire emerging from the two paratroopers caused a still ringing in Mike’s ears as he withdrew his revolver and pointed it at the hall. Dust and small chunks of the walls were thrown into the air by the force of the bullets. And after three seconds of gunfire, the weapon’s bark went silent leaving nothing but gun smoke that emerged from the barrels. Letting go of the princess, he stood tall. The metal sights reflecting golden rays in the harsh light. Placing his left hand on the grip, Mike wrapped his right thumb over his left. His arms were tensed, shadows laid in between his arms.

Looking at the hall with the only eye he had, the Ranger marched ahead.

He led with his gun. Years of training, years of fighting made it second nature.

Taking heavy steps down the hallway, Mike pursued the target without fear. He cut left at the junction, not bothering to wait for the three he had left behind. At every corner he peered down at the sights awaiting the moment to place them over a target.

His wish was granted as he approached a steel door.

Turning the knob and shoving it open, Mike scanned the warehouse like environment before he spotted a lone man standing on a set of stairs. The target was no more than ten meters away, it wasn’t an impossible shot. Placing the man behind the metal post, Mike pressed the trigger firing a single shot. The cylinder rotated, and the double action hammer returned to its original position. The recoil from firing sent a small shock through the staff sergeant’s hands, but he gained control as the ringing in his ears subsided.

Continuing through at a slower pace, Mike remained poised for the kill. This place was unlike the ruins he and the others had stalked though for the last hour. The pristine white walls, the uncanny lights. It was all nerve racking to the Reclaimer.

Approaching the next door, Mike launched his right foot into it sending it slamming into the wall adjacent to the door frame. With his revolver he entered, immediately to the left there was another monster of purple.

He did not hesitate.

The second bullet tore through and splattered dark blood on the next door.

Side stepping the disintegrating body Mike continued as his allies caught up in his rampage. “Staff Sergeant! What the hell!” Jamie boomed as he placed a bullet into the monster’s head, confirming the kill.

“Reavers. Lecca, did you encounter any the last time you were here?”

The silver-haired princess stared at the body with wide eyes. “No.” Was all she could say as it slowly melted away into nothingness. She and her men only engaged revolutionary forces. There was no report of the over-worldly protectors. Even if the relic she and her men had secured was of great value, the Reavers yet did nothing all those years ago. This left her confused, afraid. Why are they here? That was the main question circling her mind.

“Specialist.” Mike said calmly.

“Yes?” The rifleman responded, not turning away from the unopened, bloodied door.

“If you have plastic explosives on you, we’re going to fucking bury this place.”

“Grenades?”

“That’ll work.”

Letting out an amused hum, Rook detached the pouch of five grenades he had hanging from his belt. He handed the satchel to the staff sergeant letting him secure it around his chest. Whatever fairy tale was hidden under the streets of Viridis, would die today. The songs that were protected by the Reavers would be hidden behind shattered brick walls forevermore. Mike promised himself this as he stood before the next door.

“Unknown contacts behind the door. They’re spooked.” Jamie explained as he kept his rifle pointed at the wood.

“Reavers are no slouches. Any flashes? Can’t risk explosives just yet.” Mike asked.

“Just one.” The rifleman said.

Nodding his head, Mike grabbed the handle of the door and pushed it gently. Hitting the frame, the staff sergeant looked over his shoulder. Jamie nodded as he pulled the pin of the grenade. Opening it no less than ten inches, the paratrooper tossed it inside the room, being mindful to take an eyeful of the interior of the room. Two seconds later a blinding flash emerged from the bottom of the door, and Mike opened the door more than he did before letting Jamie peer through with his rifle. Activating his white light, the rifleman scanned the interior before deactivating it.

“Go.”

Pulling the door fully open, Jamie was the first through and played a harmonious tune of gunfire and screams. The paratrooper just barely avoided having his head cut off by a broadsword as he ducked to the right and repeatedly shot the assailant. Peeling left with Rook and Mike opened fire on a large wolf that was bearing its fangs at them. Blood coated the ground, and the three men scoured the room looking through their gunsights for any more hostiles.

“Way too fucking easy.” Rook sneered loading a fresh magazine into his rifle.

“Lecca?” Mike asked, turning his attention to the princess.

“They’re acting defensively. They must protect all relics.”

“So, no magic?”

“Not yet.”

Jamie looked at the broadsword that had almost killed him upon entry. “What the hell is this place?”

“Not here to find that out, brother.” Rook answered.

Scanning the room, Mike gently patted the walls. His hands began to tap the surface before he gave it one single punch. Rook and Jamie understood what the man was doing. The staff sergeant didn’t intend to destroy what was within the ruins, but he wanted to seal it off from being accessible from the everyday man. It would be impossible to stop machines or dedicated organizations from digging up the chambers within, but the very least thing he could do was hamper and delay such people.

“Mike?” Lecca questioned.

“We need to go deeper.” Mike said, “This isn’t the correct place to detonate a bunch of grenades.”

“Is that even enough to destroy the tunnel?” Rook whispered.

“It should be enough to cave in a small section.” Mike theorized, “We saw how the bullets from your rifles cut through the wall like butter. An explosive charge, the pressure and fragmentation should be more than enough to rupture a support beam letting the ceiling collapse.”

Princess Leccamaradel nodded her head. She strode forward with her rifle.

And with a determined gaze that slowly softened when turning back to her lover, she spoke softly.

“We must hurry. The king will find this place, if not the Federation.”

Publicly Available Information: The Generational Consequence:

Ever since the age-old Great War, the power of the Architects was hidden in ruins all around the world. More than 200 years have passed since the ruins were used to further humanity’s reach into the world and beyond, and now in a new age of discovery, the same mistakes of the past will lead to the suffering of millions. Only chosen operators known as ‘Forerunners’ can operate and maintain such technologies.

However, their genome has been passed to thousands of everyday men and women.