The trip to the Combat Zone was a good five days. After being on transport trucks for so long, they finally reached the edge of the area of operations. The tanks and infantry fighting vehicles were unloaded and without wasting a second, quickly formed three large arrowhead formations of heavy and light armor.
"This is Hannibal to all callsigns, Operation start. I repeat, Operation start. Move towards the player city of Treitleze, eyes and ears out for any contacts. Over."
Paul was not really the type to be inside his tank, always preferring to be on the ground or looking out. Wearing the US Army Operational Camouflage Pattern(OCP), he proudly shows his Beret bearing four stars and a skull wearing a knight helmet. Alana on the other hand was boldly standing on top of the turret as the M1A2C Abrams that's speeding through the delapitated open fields, constantly being rocked by craters left by the bombings and missiles while the occasional metal part of a blown up war robot is crushed violently by the seventy ton tank.
The trip to Treitleze was eventful, jets and helicopters were constantly flying in all directions, the skies were filled with contrails of cruise missiles and high flying aircrafts that were hammering the machine army. Even far away, they could hear the nonstop explosions caused by the sheer gigantic amount of ordnance being dropped.
"Anvil to Hannibal, we're seeing multiple Romeo's on our Southeast. Over"
"Copy, if you have good eyes on them, you have the discretion to engage, over."
"Roger that. Anvil out."
Shots from cannons and autocannons are heard a few hundred meters to his right as Anvil engaged some attacking robots. Knowing they're starting to meet resistance, he awakens Bahamut who was sleeping on a small makeshift bed out of blankets next to the Commander's seat.
"Bahamut, wakey wakey. It's time to fight." The kitten size Dragon springs to life and nods. It opens its wings and flies out of the hatch, catching as much altitude as she can.
"Anvil, Tusk, this is Hannibal, we have one times friendly Black Dragon in the AO. Watch your fire, out."
"Anvil copies! Fucker bearing three six!" "SABOT UP!"
"Tusk copies."
The Vampress was not amused, still boldly standing on top of the turret and her dress swaying wildly as the main battle tank navigates through the scarred land, she squints her eyes and sees multiple Mark Is a mile away. Without evening saying a word, she leans forward and jumps.
"Holy shit." Paul muttered as the Vampire reached the thinly shaped sedan sized quadrupedal robots within a second. He had to go back in and see where she was through the Commander's Display Unit, a small tablet below his hatch that connected the Commander's Independent Thermal Viewer or CITV, nicknamed "R2D2" by the players due to its shape resembling the iconic Star Wars character.
Looking through the Thermals, all he could see was the hot Mark I robots firing their dual 30mm autocannons wildly as they tried to hit the Countess that was just teleporting and cutting their armoured legs open with her bare hands. Alana, being a Vampire, was not showing in the thermals due to her not having body heat. What he could see though, was her hands, extremely hot from all the slicing and dicing she's been doing.
"Tusk to Hannibal, we have eyes on about a hundred or even a thousand Mark Ones supported by Mark Twos a click to the North, requesting extra tanks, over."
"Negative Tusk, we have reptilian air support, keep up the constant fire and your eyes peeled on the skies."
"Copy that Hannibal, Tusk actual, out."
The large beetle shaped Mark IIs immediately fired its mounted MLRS rocket pods, the Dual Purpose High Explosive missiles hammer Tusk a mile away. High above the skies, a gigantic dragon head was peeking from below the clouds, knowing the Commander's instruction, Tusk looked above and saw Bahamut preparing to use her breath.
"Tusk One to all tanks, deviate a bit to the right! We have a Dragon God about to open fire on the horde!"
Tusk One's Main Battle Tank slowly turns to the right, running through some burnt trees as a bright blue laser beam is emitted from the skies, Bahamut completely erased a good chunk of the horde and the formation that was speeding through the terrain opens fire, using their advanced fire control system and stabilization to accurately pick off the stragglers.
At Hannibal One's tank. Alana was again standing on top of Paul's Abrams as it charged through the combat zone. Her hands were smoking from cutting through so much metal at great speed, but it hardly means anything to her as she crosses her arms. Thanks to her height and blood red dress that was being flown around wildly by the cannons of the tanks opening fire, one could see the intimidatingly beautiful vampire hundreds of meters away, like a big red flag of an impending army of man and metal.
The skeleton tank crew that was operating Paul's tank was accurate and deadly silent as they continually picked off the Mark Ones. Though nimble and fast, the Undead skeletons were still able to hit the Mark Is properly with the powerful 120mm L/44 M256A1 Smoothbore cannons. Though some shots missed, the majority was able to score direct hits, the SABOT rounds pierce through the ERA blocks mounted outside and the thin inner armor of the robots, completely killing them with one shot.
"Hannibal to all callsigns, we should see the walls of Treitleze in a minute, watch your fire. We have friendlies inside. Over."
"Anvil Copies."
"Tusk copies."
And just like that, they see the ornate walls of the player city. It was battered and weathered, but it still stood proudly, showing the intricate care the creators of the settlement put in detailing their walls. A man with a heavy German accent comes blaring through the long range radio inside Paul's tank.
"Hannibal Actual, was zat you?"
"Yep! That's us Elefant, watch your fire.We'll be coming from the East."
"Kopy Hannibal, Mein Leopard Two's are covering your advance, los."
"Roger that Elefant, Hannibal out."
The dirtied M1A2C Abrams formation slowly merges into a line, the lead formation, Hannibal starts first while Anvil follows with Tusk behind them. Two German Leopard 2A7s bearing two different clan flags were guarding the Eastern Gate when they passed them, speeding into the gates of the player city. They were met with hundreds of various military vehicles from Germany, Russia, France, Japan, America, and China littered through the sidewalk and entire block, parked and preparing to head out once again. Sensing safety, Paul pops out of the Commander seat and opens his hatch to look around.
His large convoy of tanks slowed down as they encountered a traffic of Russian T-80Us and T-90As parked on the road, cleaning and maintaining their autoloaders. The usual Olive color of the tanks were covered by dirt and oil, scratch marks and circular dents litter their armor, Paul could only imagine what they've been through as his M1A2 Abrams slowly passed them. All of the sudden, someone tunes in the third frequency for high ranking commanding officers.
"Good to have you here Hannibal, the Knights of Eldwood are back at it again. Congregate at the town square near the Church. I have something to show you." The voice was very mature and serious, whoever was talking wasn't having a good day at all.
"Affirmative, who is this anyway?" Paul replied as calmly as he could, even though annoyed by his tone.
"Callsigns' Eagle. I'm from the Guild of Redwood."
"Copy that Eagle, meet you there in a few minutes."
"I suggest you tell your men to park up on the main road."
"Roger Eagle, Hannibal, out."
Bahamut slowly descended from the skies in her smaller form, she could clearly see the beautiful circular expansion of the French/Italian-inspired architecture of the city, she landed on top of his Beret sticking her head out as if to look around. Alana on the other hand was sitting next to the main cannon, blocking the Gunner's sight. Holding her long black hair as the wind is blown by the passing vehicles. After ordering his men to stop at the main road to rearm and refuel, he orders his tank to continue forward, deeper into the city to go to the Church next to the square.
The scenic town square was in an extremely bad shape, if it wasn't from being abandoned, the obvious craters and battle damaged buildings and street showed a very intense fight occurred. The old dilapidated Church facing it has its outside littered with Humvees and MRAP M-ATVs parked with road barriers and red tape blocking the sidewalk that leads to it.
"That doesn't look good." As Alana looked at Paul.
"Yea, it looks like some sort of a crime scene." His face was obviously worried, seeing that most of the people there were players and skeletons were only there to guard.
His tank slowly grinds to a halt next to the parked vehicles. Quickly jumping out of the commander's hatch to talk to the officer on the scene. Alana followed while Bahamut sat on his right shoulder. The players direct him to the top of the Church stairs where another man wearing a Beret with an Orange emblem on it with the Tree of Life. His steps were heard which caught the man's attention while he was talking to some lower ranking officers.
Young, Caucasian and built nicely, he approached Paul who was only a few steps away from him. He shows his hand and the two perform a handshake.
"Eagle."
"Hannibal."
"Exactly why have you called me here?"
"I think the Knights of Eldwood would want to see what we have found out."
"Okay."
He turns around and goes back to where he was with Paul and company in tow.
"You see this crater on the last few steps?"
"Yea, what about it?"
"Look closely."
He looks closer, crouching and noticing that it has an outline of a person. His eyes widened, imagining a massive battle occurred here.
"I know right?"
"Wait, what exactly happened here?"
"Well, a month after we got transported to this strange land, the Kingdom of Kingsland immediately sent its war robots to subdue its neighboring player cities which they have historically always hated. You know, these three always had something going on."
"Okay, what happened next?"
"Well, Treitleze was the last of their problems. Thing is, Treitleze has a level two hundred player with them. This player that I've met before, you might not know him but his name was JerseyShacksNNN."
"Okay."
Eagle walks to the main entrance, showing the beautifully painted and decorated Church interior that was overrun by holes and circular craters on the wall.
"If you look around, you can see that a fight broke out here."
"Huh, there has been a fight. A large one too." Paul, having experience with fighting inside a Church, notices the slices and unnatural markings on the flooring.
"Yep, this was Jersey fighting someone. Someone whom we don't know."
"Why not just ask him? Haven't he respawned months ago while we were still on ice?"
"That's the thing. Come here."
Eagle leads them to the Altar where behind it, a skeleton of a dead man wearing Gold and Platinum armor lay. The Shining Greatsword was embedded on the ground next to him and a small hole in his chest armor.
"Uhhhhh... oh shit."
"Oh shit alright. This is him. He's dead."
"But, how? Don't we usually just turn into a plume of sparks and respawn at the nearest Church?"
"That's the thing, whoever killed this Level Two Hundred player did it so good he wasn't able to respawn."
"Fuck, then someone or something out there are killing people?"
"People from our world to be precise."
"What's the cause of death?"
"Our Casters say that they don't detect a soul. Not like in Dark World VR, to revive things here, they actually require a soul. Which they use to bring you back to life on the field and for the world to respawn us."
"I see now, even our Skeleton soldiers have souls. So this man is completely dead, not only from the outside, but also from within." Chills run through his spine, seeing a Legendary ranked player dead in front of him.
"That, we don't know. He might still be alive, but had his soul trapped somewhere. Or he's cursed and it needs to be lifted. But yea, he's probably dead... dead."
While the two talk, Alana starts wandering around the Church, examining the marks and left over scars from the battle.
"Uh huh. Well, one thing for sure. We can die."
"Yep, I knew it's too good to be true. Looks like whoever did this was someone we shouldn't fuck around with."
"Yea, though what about the War Robots, the UN conference said the main data center they use to control them got a virus or error which made them go haywire. Don't you think this might be connected to it?"
Alana on the other hand starts sniffing some leftover dried blood on the floor, her eyes widened from it.
"No, we have nothing alluding that those two things are connected. I have thought about it too, but we don't have clues."
"What about the killer? Got any ideas?"
"I have." Alana's voice echoes through the Church, the two and some other soldiers look at her.
"Entertain us ma'am."
"It's Countess Alana Minuit of Manor Chaîne de Montagnes to you sir Eagle. Though you may call me Lady Alana."
He merely nods and gestures to her that the stage is hers.
"The spilled blood, it's pure."
Confused, the two ask.
"Pure?"
"Yes, this is done by what could be another Purebred vampire. Who? I do not know. It's been months since I've returned to the Demon Continent."
Curious, Eagle actual asks a question.
"So, exactly what's an extremely dangerous high level Purebred Vampire doing here?"
"It might have a connection to why the machines rose."
Paul realizes this butts in.
"Huh, you might be onto something Alana."
"Hm, great minds think alike as they say."
"If so, what faction was this Vampire in? This entire conflict might've been started by a third party."
"I also do not know, but ever since your kind came to this world, there might be new Purebreds that's been around."
"That's true. And it's been months nonetheless. Whoever did this has left us in the dust."
Silence comes as they think through it. Eagle on the other hand receives a transmission.
"Hannibal, your boss called. Said you need to help in the advance to Kingsland. One of your tank companies has also arrived, they should tune into the other frequency and contact you."
"Ah shit. It's time I guess. Good to know the boys are finally here."
"Yep, take care and be sure to tell this. We know you guys are mostly high level, don't overdo it. We can be killed."
"Yea, ugh. Alana, let's go."
He immediately turns around, walking through the Church as rays of light hit him through the holes in the roof. Though deep in thought, he shakes the odd feeling and gets into his game face.
After walking and entering his Abrams, he grabs the longwave radio mic and tunes into the frequency for ground units. About five minutes of waiting, idling on the Commander's hatch with Alana staring at him directly while cuddled up above the turret, the armored column signs in.
"Hannibal, do you copy over? This is Redwood signing in. Twenty M-One A-Two Abrams supported by Ten M-Two A-Two Bradleys. One human per tank, and two in the Bradleys. One commanding the crew, another for the squad inside. Do you copy over?"
"Good copy Redwood. This is Hannibal actual, our staging area is near the square on the four lane road. Over."
"Roger that, we'll be there for ETA for three minutes."
"Good copy on all. Hannibal out."
With the support coming, he immediately tells Alana to sit properly as the tank will start moving. It reverses into the tight European stone road and its threads start rolling slowly through the small two story buildings. Players were scattered about the battered city, picking up random nick nacks from the stores and checking any alleyway for Combat Robots trying to hide from the massive invading force.
Paul's Abrams arrive at the staging area. He notices that HEMTT trucks are parked on the opposite side of the road, unloading shells and ammo boxes for his tanks.
"How are we on the ammo?"
He looks inside and the skeleton crewman gestures a thumbs down. Notifying him that they're in the red for ammo.
"I see. Alright, driver. Get us close to the HEMTTs. Let's start reloading."
In the middle of loading shells in his tanks, the already rumbling ground from all the armor moving around gets even worse as a convoy of twenty M1A2 Abrams and Ten M2A2 Bradleys arrive. A man who was on the lead tank makes a salute as he sees Paul who in turn makes a quick return salute. The young lad with blonde hair exits the tank and approaches him.
"Sir! Captain Timothy from the 3rd Armored Cavalry reporting for duty!"
"Affirm. Do some final checks, we're rolling the moment everyone is finished. Talk to our Allies here from the Men of the Wood. They were kind enough to lend us some of their tanks and men."
"Yes sir." After performing a snappy salute he doesn't waste time to talk to the other tank commanders from the Allied Faction.
"Thou's energetic. Why can't you be like that?" Bahamut commented.
"After what I've been through, I need four therapists and a lot of fast food. Also a month-long vacation."
It was a good ten minutes when all of the tanks and infantry fighting vehicles were ready to move. Four tank formations roll out of the Southern exit of Treitleze and form their arrowhead. The land was even worse off, more craters and green trees were gone, all patches of land had been scarred and without some small or large crater. Cruise Missiles fired from Destroyers a thousand mile away were visibly arching to the ground in the horizon and their massive explosive payload was seen from where Paul was.
As helicopters flew low to the gigantic smokestacks in his front, he could see remains of tanks, armored vehicles, trucks and jets even.
"Looks like things are getting serious."
"Anvil One to Hannibal, what's plan after taking over Kingsland?"
"Just surround the front entrance, the other Generals from other Guilds are already rushing in. Don't join in, it's going to be a massive mess if the players there start fighting back."
"Copy Hanni-"
A 57mm armor piercing shell hits Anvil one's tank. The caliber was way too small to penetrate its frontal plate and the formation immediately returned fire to the direction it came from which was a line of large craters that the robots seemed to be using as cover.
"Hannibal Four to One, these robots seem to be really mobile, they just dodged my gunners SABOT. Over."
"Affirm, keep sending the rounds down range, if you can't nail them from this range, I'll permit you to get closer."
"Roger that, Hannibal Four. Out."
Seeing this, Paul orders the tanks on the right of his formation to support Anvil, Tusk and Redwood who're on the left of his formation could see the tracers and shells bouncing from the ground and flying high to the skies.
Bahamut and Alana on the other hand were silent as they looked at the robots far away.
After finishing off the machines hiding behind cover, Anvil notices they were different Mark Is as his tanks drove through their penetrated carcasses, though the same look, it had no reactive armor and was just purely light for extreme mobility with badly painted 80s Woodland camo over its composite shell.
"Hannibal, the robots we encountered were different. These ones are Woodland camoed and are extremely mobile."
"Copy, yea one of my tank commanders reported to me that they were dodging some of the shots. Keep your eyes open, these ones are smarter."
"Roger. Anvil. Out."
The travel to Kingsland was treacherous, the entire 2 hour drive had Robots who were proficient in guerilla warfare and Paul lost twelve main battle tanks, Alana on the other hand was covered in Oil and Red liquid which looked like Hydraulic fluid and panting heavily from fighting so much many of them all the while trying to prevent the lost of more tanks.
Many of the tanks were lost to 57mm rounds hitting the side and the back, these Mark Is were flexible and fast, capable of moving from one cover to another and the sluggish M1A2 Abrams looked like a hippo fighting a bird. No matter how much it'd try to step up its speed and agility through complex movements, the machines would just jump to the left or right and catch them off guard. These ones were also sporting Woodland camoflauge with thermal netting, covering their signatures from FLIR Cameras on aircrafts. They were also more smarter and quick to adapt, having disabled multiple of his MBTs and even some Bradley IFVs.
Bahamut was fairly good as she's been providing air support through her fire breath, the occasional fighter jet and helicopter forces her to change altitude and even path which made some attempts to provide help hard but nonetheless they reached the final leg to Kingsland. Before finally stepping foot to its walls, there's supposed to be a small town where a staging area is made. The fighting slowly died down as they got closer to it, more and more tanks and military vehicles from different guilds and nations started to appear, scattered throughout the burnt land.
"Hannibal, to all callsigns, bunch up and form a line, we're getting closer. Watch for friendlies."
The town wasn't better off, apart from some buildings here and there, everything else was rubble. The players though took perfect advantage of this and placed very cheesy and encamped positions full of machine guns and missile launchers. After his tank column stopped in the middle of settlement, Paul took off his tank helmet and left his beret inside. Immediately hopping off and sitting on the stone curb.
"Ahhh... fuck. That was intense, way too intense."
"I can see it." Alana was still standing on top of the turret and she could faintly see the walls of Kingsland, still pristine and shining.
"The walls? Yea, it's pretty near this place. We were planning on bombing it, but we don't know if Kingsland has native people in it."
"How is that exactly a concern in war?" Paul notices the red liquid on her cheek, feeling sorry for not being able to do better.
"Well, their civilians. They had nothing to do with him, and all we want to know is why the Guild leaders of Kingsland haven't said a single thing to us or even info on these machines."
"Hmmm..." The Vampire touches the fluid on her cheek and licks it.
"Awww ewww, you know that could be hydraulic fluid."
"It's blood."
"Excuse me."
The other tank commanders hear her and they immediately stop in their task and stare at her.
"Young too, these machines. Are you sure they're not controlled by humans."
"Impossible, these ones that attacked us recently were different but they should still be the same."
"The way they moved and adapted to us, are you sure?"
"Now that you said it... ah shit. Just keep it to yourselves. The Tank Commanders don't need to know this. Good thing they have skeleton crews. Less morale for me to deal with."
He stands up, clapping his hand and telling his men to go back to rearming and refueling, assuring them that everything is fine.