Damn, where do I begin? Right, how about how long it took us to get to this point. 6 years….. 6 fucking years of bloodsheath, the amount of time it took us to finally turn the tides against the Cryptids. At first, we were merely just a bunch of mercenaries and ex-Lyntrian soldiers who chose to face the tyrants of the Outerverse. Ever since the Timeporal War, we thought we were the best of the best…how wrong we were. Setback after setback, loss after loss, our numbers eventually were reduced to mere thousands despite the courage of those who took up arms to join us. What was at first an espionage war turned into a rebellion. Then the unthinkable happened, a massive counterattack. A final stand cripples the Cryptids. The cost, all but a few Ghosts came back. However, we finally have a firm foothold. With a more organized system for us to use, a stable supply from the Lyntrias Empire, and with new Ghosts showing up, it is time for us to make the move. They want a war. We'll give 'em one.
[Message saved | End Recording | ID: Lucas Coursier]
------------------------------------------------------------
"Hurry!"
"What are you doing?! Go to another spot!"
"Do not fire until we are signaled to!"
Hushed voices spoke within the stormy weather that bombarded the dense forest of this unknown world. Individuals wearing different equipment and wielding varying weapons hid in the foliage under the guidance of the night skies. A flash of lightning boomed above, illuminating the rebels briefly before they faded into the darkness. Awaiting for the moment, a soft radio could be heard in the far back of the frontline.
"Frontline is gray, report?" a man wearing a damped cowboy hat asks as another guy who looks similar to him slowly loads a magazine into the top of a device worn near his wrist. Soon after he sends the request, a soothing yet calm female voice comes through the other end.
"Gray, they are currently landing their forces. Standby,"
"Keep us updated,"
The man's radio clicks off as he gestures to a nearby rebel. Seeing the gesture, the rebel nods and passes the voiceless message to the others. Confirming his command has gone through, the man takes a deep breath and looks down at his left wrist gun. While he checks its condition, the other guy quietly addresses him.
"Why don't we just charge them? We have the element of surprise, and they are wide open,"
Looking over to the guy, the man slightly shakes his head.
"No, Lucas, we need to have them all gathered up, there is no second chance, this is our only chance,"
The younger guy frowns upon this as the man looks back ahead.
"But Jerod-"
"Lucas." the man glances over to the younger guy, who caught himself upon hearing his name.
"Commander, with all due respect, it'd be better to wipe them out by waves than to face a mass of them, wouldn't it?"
At this, Jerod gives a slight smirk as he quietly chuckles.
"Well, it would work if you never accounted for their air superiority, our battalion's stamina to fatigue, including a few other factors..." His voice trails off, glancing towards the younger guy, who seems to slowly realize.
"S-sorry, I brought it up," The younger guy's eyes trail away, to which Jerod smiles and pats his shoulder.
"Don't worry about it; you're still young, keep learning; it'll be your most versatile and deadliest weapon, regardless of the enemy's strengths. Understand, little bro?"
Lucas doesn't dare look back at Jerod; however, in acknowledgment, the guy nods. Jerod's earpiece comes to life as he removes his hand from Lucas' shoulder.
[They just finished landing and are preparing the equipment they have; we are near code yellow,] the same female voice said as Jerod's face slowly changed to a serious expression.
"Copy, I'll give the word once we're set,"
Taking his hand from the comms device, he puts his hands to his mouth. At that, a bird sound emits from his mouth. Multiple dark figures and a few rustling noises nearby can be heard moving quickly through the brush in response to the signal. Jerod puts a face cloth over his mouth and joins the herd. Following in tow, Lucas slinks after him.
It didn't take long until they reached the edge of a clearing. At the same time, a dark aircraft was finishing its landing in an open space, and many dark-geared individuals were walking around with various weaponry. However, unlike the unorganized, clothed rebels lying in wait, these soldiers were all uniformed. Their dark gear seemingly gave off intimidating vibes under the dark, stormy skies.
Though both sides seemingly are on edge, the soldiers look around with their NVGs to look into the dark foliage as the rebels within them lay low, fidgeting. A tense silence that is only intensifying despite the loud roar of the winds around them. Looking down at his brother, Jerod can see Lucas anxiously gripping and loosening his free hand into a fist. Seeing how tense his brother is, Jerod places a hand on Lucas' arm, causing him to tense up a bit. Looking at Jerod's face, the guy relaxes a bit. Jerod nods and takes his hand away.
Looking back ahead, the soldiers are beginning to form a mass. This is it—no chances are left, no turning back, no more fear. Jerod brings his hand to the radio, and with a click, a flash of lightning strikes down in the distance.
"Flash."
With that, the sounds of battle roars mixed with the storm that engulfs the planet. Taken by surprise, the heavily equipped soldiers approach the forest surrounding them, weapons up in anticipation. One wearing an embroidered helmet over their gas mask calls into their radio. Though they barely could say anything as a shot rang out. A hole the size of a tennis ball that went clean through could be seen. Their body flew to the wet ground, mixing a bluish liquid into the damp mud. Like that, the rounds start flying, and figures rush out from the forest, charging into the ranks.
The frontline jumps in as those with equipment meant for range eliminate the soldiers who try to take command of the troops in an attempt to counterattack. Jerod and Lucas burst out of the foliage with their respective weapons. The two blasted and quickly eliminated those too close to the edge of the clearing before the soldier could react. As the other rebels fall in after them, one word seemingly echoes through the blood-soaked rain:
Parati ad omnia