"Heating up"
December 22th, Earth Time, 2055
October 23th, Terra Time, 1097
How did we get here? Irene was still pondering. Her group had been close enough to what seems like advance communications equipment. However, the second they got within 2 meters of the thing, they were snared by a trap. A great electrical feeling rocking them, followed by men and women with cuffs and batons rushing in to arrest them.
Irene could've have fought back, but the electrical feeling was so strong and powerful, that she was forced to the ground. She felt then what was a needle, that effectively numbed her and her fellow inquisitors. Irene recovered quickly but she was already cuffed and tied up.
Her fellow inquisitors slowly recovered. The lead began to look around, observing what she can.
Now they were on the roof of one of the taller buildings in Sal Viento, a small little shed like bit leading to a stairway, which would have taken a person into the building. 2 of the people that captured her and her team was watching her. They seemed relaxed now, and was eating something out of a bag.
Vaguely there was the smell of something fishy and cheese, as well as a more spicy scent to it.
There was a table, which has some sort of equipment which was barking out voices. There was 7 seats, 5 of which were empty. The 2 that werne't was occupied by the 2 people who were dressed strangely. There was 2 backpacks with what looks like little spinning devices near the bottom, a cylinder with a tube that had a mask at the end, 2 helmets of strange design, and 2 weapons, which - if her memory served her right - was not too dissimilar to some weapons made in Laterano.
The day seemed pretty clear, barely any clouds, except for what looks like a storm off to the east. Irene wanted to try and see more of the 2 people, but a sensation forced her to lay back down.
"Au my head..." she muttered, resting it against the floor. There was a dull throbbing there and she wanted to know what exactly is causing her to endure such pain like that. The 2 noticed her and her team moving, and they began to have a quick conversation.
After that, one of them turns around and speaks - after gulping down his food, "Ah, I'm sorry Ma'am, but we had to do it, Operational security all of that." he then shovels another bit of the food and lifts it out of the bag, "You would understand, right?"
He goes and puts what looks like heavily cooked bits of a sea terror ( which would appall many back in Iberia ), thoroughly covered in something green and red, into his mouth and was merrily chewing it.
That was something that made her eyes widened in surprise, but was only widened further when he gulped it down, and let out a breath of content.
The man didn't know why she was panicking so much, and just pushed up his bag, "Want some? It's pretty good, reminds me of clams and lobster." Irene shook her head, a little frantically. She was astonished on the fact that they were so casually eating those monsters like it was some regular old meal.
"N-no thank you, I'm good." She faces him and squints her eyes, "Who are you people with...?
He looks back at his buddy, she was content eating so she shrugged, "Yeah go ahead, I don't think Command'll care."
He looks back at Irene and speaks, "I'm from the United States Marine Corps," he points at a little emblem on his shoulder, which looks like some sort of rocket which was pointing and going through a tentacle creature, "13th Marine Division, Deep Sea Devils."
"Marine...corps?" Irene repeated, slowly. The man nodded, "That's right, the premier Maritime Assault branch for the United States of America."
Maritime Assaul- what the hell?! Collectively, that though ran through all of their heads when he finished that little statement.
He goes back to the table and sits down, watching as the other inquisitors get up with some more questions, but they too began to complain about the throbbing pain, "Hey, if you guys want some treatment for that headache, let me know," he holds up a bag with a big red plus, "I'm a Corpsman, I can treat you all."
Irene watched a few inquisitors try and inch their way over, causing the man to stop, and go over. Reaching into his bag, he gets out a bottle with some sort of nozzle at the end. "Here," he begins, getting a small, disposable paper cup and filling it up. He holds it to the mouth of an inquisitor, "drink it, it'll help with the pain." The inquisitor in question looked suspicious, but he began to drink it, wondering what was to lose at that point.
Irene meanwhile, was running a million thoughts and questions through her head.
Who do these people think they are? That they can just treat an inquisitor like they did earlier, and then try and make amends through medicine like that? The council- The inquisitor let out a noise of satisfaction, and let out a short chuckle, "Hey, I feel much better!" The 'Corpsman' chuckled, before going over to the other inquisitors and treating them.
Irene watched each of them become much better, and not complain about it. Meanwhile, the girl 'Marine' seemed to have finished eating her little Sea Terror pasta - she thinks, it was pasta, there was long strands of angel hair spaghetti and tomato sauce - and began to help her. She got on her knee and held up the little cup.
"So where're you folks from?" she questioned, letting Irene slowly take down the medicine.
Gulping it, she responds, "The Iberian Empire, a nation that used to rule over this city."
"Iberia huh? Sounds Spanish..." at the mention, Irene now felt more questions run in. Now she was more interested than ever about the origins and the home of these people, considering that this Marine alone seemed to find the term of her home country familiar to whatever 'Spanish' is. "Well, now this city is going to fall under us."
Irene almost felt herself turn to the Marine in deep confusion and worry, "What...? What do you mean?!" Those questions leaked out of her, hoping that she was going to get a response.
Only to receive none at all.
The Marine hummed, before helping sit her and her team up against a little planter. The 2 Marines set them up so they were facing the coastal side of the city. Right at the hideous forms of Nethersea and Seaborne that was lining the beach area.
Irene winced, seeing the very creatures and growth that brought her nation to its knees.
"Hey..." an inquisitor began, leaning towards the radio, "What are they saying on this?" One of the Marines went to the radio and turned it on.
"Viper, Thunder," came followed by the chirp of the radio, sometime after. The sound of the air beginning to tear itself apart began to roar throughout the coastline around Sal Viento. Something that brought great wide smiles to their faces. "Oh HELL yeah!" The male counterpart yelled, cheering while his more female compatriot was jittering a little in excitement.
The roar of the air was bringing fear to the inquisitors, and Irene had to let out what was on their minds, "What's that noise?!" She yelled out, causing one of them to point off to the distance.
There it was, 2 figures soaring towards the growth and amalgamation of Nethersea and Sea Terror. They had wings it looked like, and it looks like they had some sort of pods at the bottom.
The 2 aircraft were flying at a decently good height. Low enough to successfully carry out the mission they were given today. It gave Irene and her fellow inquisitors a lovely view of the 2 vehicles. The pair of Marines began to cheer when hey approached, the inquisitors more confused on the merriness of the occasion.
As they flew by the coastline, pods began to drop from their hard points below, and they began to hit the ground, embezzled with Nethersea growth.
Irene and the Inquisitors were greeted to such a near majestic, and near elegant sight that, even Irene herself thinks was a little beautiful to witness.
From the pods came great lines of fire and massive rocking explosions, that began to cover and spread across the water itself, before spreading onto the Sea Terrors and their Nethersea.
The flames began to line the horizon of the beach, burning and killing so much of the monsters that brought Iberia out of her golden age. Shockwaves shattered and destroyed a lot of the Sea Terrors, sending their bits flying.
The Marines were cheering, their inner grunts absolutely loving the display.
Irene noticed even a couple of the newer inquisitors cheering, watching the sight.
She had to smile, just a little, amazed at the glory of it all.
From the radio, a female voice penetrated the static, with her own little chuckle. "This is Deathbird, we have successfully completed the Mission, gotta love that Napalm."
The two marines stopped to smell the air. Irene and the others were greeted to the smell of a chemical.
One of Marines began to speak, before being stopped by the other.
"Don't, I know what you're going to say-"
He chuckled, before saying it, "I love the smell of-!"
The girl slammed her hand over his mouth, "NOPE! NOT TODAY!"
The amusement of the whole situation began to reach the captured inquisitors.
And they couldn't help but crack a smile and a snicker.
Lungmen Slums
The American Sniper rounded a corner, waving her arms frantically at the British and other Allies. A JLTV drove around the corner, it's .50 Cal CROWS opening up to spray lead.
An explosion on the front of the vehicle made her run faster.
She almost tripped, soon standing and breathing heavily before the British HAT and the News Crews. A reporter went up to her, microphone, "Excuse me, are you available for tal-"
Immediately she waved him off, her brain in its short term memory noting his strange, southern like accent, before explaining to the Brit, "We... we got a hostile," she gulped and gathered her breath, pointing at the JLTV which was rapidly backing out and away.
"Well I can see that," he responds, watching the vehicle drive at full speed down the road, "What kind of hostile are we looking at exactly?"
"They got a 40 Mike Mike," she almost fell to the ground. Regathering her composure after swishing some water from her flask. The Brit's eyes widened, watching a squad of Americans, with heavy ballistics shields and helmets, approach the corner, with one of them turning it.
"They got a bloody What-?!" He was about to begin, the news crews slowly moving back while the cameras focused and zoomed on the 2.
That was a good thing, because that meant the audience of Terra didn't get to see 3 Americans getting hit with 2 grenades, which sent them flying backwards into an empty JLTV.
"Contact!" Came the panicked cry of one of the Americans, the group backing away from the corner. The sounds of M5s and P90s began to ring out, as well as the sound of an AA-12 firing off.
Another grenade rocked the group, and it forced the marksman, the British HAT, and the Victorian News Crew to back away, joined smartly by the other groups.
Other squads in the area began to be alerted of the hostile, and through the Sniper's radio, she can hear mass panic and confusion.
"Retreat! We need cover fire to take care of that tango!"
"This is Angel-2, I'm on my way-!"
The small group huddled behind a Military Police Vehicle, which was a refitted MAT-V with some emergency lights on it.
The sniper peaked over the engine and looked down the street, her crosshairs focused on anything that seemed to be moving.
Flagging multiple friendlies by the way.
The sound of chopping began to be heard, and she sighed, sitting down, the Victorian Reporter going up to her, "H-hey, what faction are you from?"
Without missing a hitch, "United States Army, I'm a sniper." She peaks back over. The sniper saw more squads beginning to consolidate with military police elements and Lungmen Guards.
There also seemed to be some operators from organizations that she does not know.
Soon, the rumbling of a tank's tracks was heard, and the group turned around to see their savior.
An Abrams tank rolling around, with 2 Bradleys flanking it. The aforementioned IFVs dropped of a squad each, and they began to disperse, splitting up into 5s and moving around the area.
The Brit looked at the Victorians and made some gestures, "Oi! Let's move with the Abrams, got it?!" After yelling that command, the American Marksman began to follow behind, with the news crew. The Tank passed by the group, and the Brit waved his hand and the group began to move behind, the other squads already far ahead, pushing with the LGD.
At the same time, 2 Defiants with mounted grenade launchers and M134s began to open fire down into the street where the person with the Grenade Launcher was.
"Hey," the Marksman began, pointing at what looks like a glint in a window. Instinctively the HAT soldier ducked behind the Abrams, the news crew standing out a little confused.
The marksman aimed her weapon right at the source of the glint and did not waste a moment. with the squeeze of a trigger, a bullet was sent flying.
Into the head of a Reunion crossbowman that was hiding up there.
"Nice try," she softly said, charging the bolt. The Abrams began to drive again, feeling more secure now.
The streets were getting much more silent, besides for the turbine-like hum of the Abram's engine and it's coolant dispenser.
Hell, even the sounds of the Defiants faded, and that's because they were busy chasing the grenade launcher boyo.
"Uhm... it's a little scary in this area..." the Victorian reporter muttered. The group was hanging behind the Abrams, squished between it and its little trailer that it's dragging around.
The Brit felt a little nervous, and he began to take his new NLAW out, which for his convenience, was placed on the back trailer of the Abrams.
The marksman got her pistol out.
Behind them, squads began to approach, 1 British oriented and 2 Russian oriented. All of them had tactical shields and weapons pointed over each one.
The British soldier turned back to them"We got yellow dots, not sure if they're neutrals." He then looked back ahead.
His inquiry would be answered in a moment.
The Abrams's Active Protection Systems began to turn and activate. The whine of an alarm bringing everybody out of the silence.
All squads in the vicinity of this street stopped their fighting when, what looks like dark chains with red outlines, began to shoot out in the direction of the vehicle.
Over a speaker on the Abrams, a warning called out from the tank commander, "Back! Back fucking away!"
The Trophy systems fired off shrapnel and started to shoot explosions in direction of the chains. They were not stopped by the explosives, and the group was forced to back away from the Abrams.
The speaker barked up again, "Main gun is fucked! 20mm CROWS is not responding to my commands!" if the tank were to be viewed from the front, the main gun has been mangled to all get out. The Fume Extractor, a critical component to ensuring that the inside of the tank does not fill with poisonous and potentially combustible gas and residue, is ruined beyond all possible modes of repair.
The tank would have backed out, if it weren't for the fact that the front tracks, and the engineer equipment, was absolutely ruined. The Abrams was tracked.
The British Soldier and American sniper aimed their weapons in direction of the potential source. The yellow dots on their mini-maps turning red.
Confirmed hostiles.
The Marksman looked over to the front of, breathing heavily and trying to look for the source of each of the dots and thus, subsequently the chains.
Another tentacle like thing hit the Abrams, and the tank began to let out an uncomfortable amount of alarm bells. The British soldier screamed out, "Oi! We got hostiles on that building!" Pointing with his left hand, and getting the NLAW ready with his right.
Bringing her weapon over, the Marksman looked, eyes widening in horror. 2 of those white masked Reunion, but they appeared to have horns, a hood, and a terrifying looking staff.
"Sarkaz Casters... some of the most powerful arts users known to Terra," the Victorian reporter clarified, pointing at the aforementioned figures. "They know some of the most complex arts known, and they are absolutely devastating when they use them," she briefly explained, before ducking behind the Marksman, who was backing away more.
They were in for a fight now, and in this particular street, they were, for the moment, outnumbered.
Not helped by the fact that more Heavy Defenders, something that for some reason the Reunion has in bulk, began to approach, aiming what looks like very large crossbows and Anti-Armor weapons at the Abrams.
All of them armed with something, vaguely looking like large crossbows,
Their armor looked significantly different now, painted red, and it was much bulkier, and presumably stronger.
The Marksman prayed the .300 rounds in her sniper was enough to penetrate the neck at least. The Abrams turned its turret, and began to open fire with all of its machine guns. .50 Calibre rounds clearly impacting the Reunion hostiles.
What shocked the HAT and even scared some of the squads present was the fact that the .50 Cal was struggling. The Marksman looked at the Sarkaz Casters again, and she sees that they were doing some sort of moment, like they were chanting something. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize what the hell they were doing.
"Oh that's not fair!" She yelled out, gesturing to the HAT and Victorian Crew, "Back up, back up now!"
She picked up her kit and began to strategically retreat, following the blue radius on the mini-map to a safe area, a few blocks down. The Victorian Crew was quick to follow behind, the British HAT taking his NLAW and readying it.
"Fuck! This thing is not going to take any more punishment from whatever fucking Black Magic that shit is!" the crab door on the back of the Abrams began to slowly open, the automated machine guns on the tank fully taking control, while the AI began to try and at least start firing off its coaxial machine gun and pinking off the enemy Defenders.
It was doing it as a last act of defiance in support of its crew. The Tank Commander was outside - he was completely disheveled, and looked like he was bleeding in some places. He looked back wards, and he screamed into the armored vehicle, "Bail! Bail! Get out while you still can!"
He stepped out, and began to run. A weapon slung over his shoulder.
The Brit switched off PLOS and got onto Direct Attack, and quickly fired the missile towards a random defender.
Nothing more satisfying than the missile penetrating despite whatever hocus-pocus type stuff was occurring, killing the defender and causing his body to crumple.
As he began to run, he just barely dodged a bolt, probably from one of those Reunion Defenders, and he turned and fired his L85 back at them, one handed holding the thing.
He was not comforted by what he was seeing, especially when he looked back briefly to see the rest of the Abrams's crew running for their lives while 2 chains screamed towards the front side of the Abrams's turret.
The chains seemed to phase through the vehicle, the Brit glad that the Americans got out of it just in time and it was only whatever AI onboard trying to defend the vehicle with the automated machine guns.
Right then, just as the American Crewmen rounded a corner and left, the chains began to glow, deep inside the vehicle, their casters now emitting an aura more menacing than anything the Earthlings have ever experienced before.
The HAT soldier's eyes widened, and he had to take cover into a nearby building, just as a sickening sound was heard from the tank, which forced the other squads to take cover, the Marksman to cover the Victorians, and the aforementioned nationals trying to show what was going on.
Covering his helmet, he listened to the sound of an ammo rack blowing up, followed by the more fantastical sounds of an arts based explosion. The sounds of tracks and shrapnel flying everywhere, and the sounds of burning and bending metal was heard, and the HAT soldier can deduce that the coolant tank has been pierced - from the fact that there was now an incredible amount of white smoke with blue liquid all over the road.
The ammo rack's protective doors was clearly breached, pretty much nullifying most of its protecting effects, the body of the tank now becoming the outside of a grenade.
Highlighted only when shrapnel began to fly down the street and began to graze several Russians and British soldiers.
Panic began to fill the radio waves, while the sounds of Squads moving began to be heard alongside the deafening cacophony of rocket launchers and grenade launchers opening fire.
The chains were then retreated, and the Reunion soldiers began to push forward.
Their bodies being the curtain of the demoralizing sight of a burnt M1 Abrams.