Thirty years before the present day, on the seventh of August, 4069, Crock Turnbull had just been promoted to General, and given license to lead his own army. The army consisted of nine hundred and twelve well-trained soldiers. He stood before his soldiers, proud to lead them.
"Welcome soldiers to the worst day spa you'll ever know. The experience is so bad, so terrible, so unbelievably lacklustre that we pay you maggots just to come here and possibly die for a reason that you can't even question."
Crock was popular amongst the people for his wit and his ability to make light of a situation most were too afraid to admit how much it scared them. The government from the outset had concerns about this, but knew that declaring him an enemy might be more trouble than it would be worth.
"There's over nine hundred of you, so if I don't remember each and every one of your names, don't take it personally."
Despite his saying this, Crock had a great memory for names and faces, at least in this period of his life. He was always one to undersell his talents, a habit created in order to preserve his good standing in a world that forbid an independent person from gaining too much.
"Now I trust that all of you have completed the basic training, the intermediate training, the advanced training, and the vice-grip-on-your-throat sacrificial goat training, because this first mission is by far no simple walk in the park."
Crock waited for an applause, as he sensed the desire to clap was brewing amongst his enraptured audience.
"As you may be aware, Gloomy Island has recently been in an upheaval, thanks to the meddling of the Gentleman's Club. The people of this fine country want to dethrone their King, Arnold Gloomy the Thirtieth, and they claim he is robbing them of their livelihoods."
Crock continued to explain the situation to the crowd of soldiers, and once he was finished, he dismissed them. The crowd dispersed as the majority prepared to leave for Gloomy Island. As he turned around, however, he noticed one young man quite eager to speak to him.
"Hiya, mister Crock, sir. The name's Talhad and I..."
"Hm? You've come directly to me? I have quite a bit of respect for someone like you to do that."
"Yes, well I figured that you'd be down to chat for a bit, you know. I have some things I want to talk about with you."
"Indeed I do know. Now," said Crock, pointing to the tent off to the side. "Who is the woman watching us from behind that tent?"
Surprised that she was noticed, the woman reluctantly came up to the two of them and introduced herself.
"Hello, my name is Samantha. I'm twenty-seven but I still feel very uncomfortable with my sense of self, so forgive my lack of courageous instinct..."
"No need to be so formal, this is only day one," said Crock. "In any case, would you like to join us for a chat, we're going into that tent over there." Crock pointed at his personal catering tent. "There's some good food in there, so feel free to help yourself. And don't be afraid to voice your opinion, I'm not the kind of guy to go nuts about dissension."
The three of them walked into Crock's tent to find someone eating the mini pastries and cakes. The culprit turned around, gulped down his food, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"Admiral Shooter? I didn't expect to see you here," said Crock.
"Please Crock, call me Ontario."
At that moment, an injured soldier came into the tent.
"Is this the medical tent?" he asked.
"No, but if it's not too serious I'm sure one of us could treat it," said Samantha. "I have basic medical training."
"What's your name, kid?" asked Ontario.
"Edwin Longchest. And for your information, I'm thirty-four."
The five of them began to chat as Samantha treated Edwin's wounds. Crock asked what Talhad wanted to speak about.
"My name is Talhad French, and I have been looking forward to being a part of your Army for some time. I have a feeling you will do many great things in the future."
"Oh yeah, like what?" asked Crock.
"Well, I wanted to present you with an idea for the future."
"Sure, let's hear it."
"Our crew should go to the Terminus."
The four other people in the room were shocked at Talhad's suggestion. Samantha offered her opinion.
"That seems more dangerous than any mission we could possibly undertake."
"Well, I already signed up prepared to risk my life," said Edwin. "Something tells me it's in our future whether we like it or not."
"Something, or someone?" asked Ontario.
"What are you talking about?" asked Talhad.
"The future, huh?" said Crock. "I'll definitely keep it in mind."
"Right, well I came by to congratulate you, Crock, on your promotion to General and the Army you now command," said Ontario. "And I want you to know that I consider you a friend and an upstanding person. If anything happens to you, I will be the first to raise questions."
"Wait a minute, Ontario, where is all this coming from? I mean, I'm flattered, but I don't want you risking your life for my sake."
"Well, I'm not certain of much these days, but I trust you. I hope things fare well for your group, especially those who grow close to you. These three seem like good people, I hope they serve you well in the years to come."
"Look, you can't just drop such sentimental..." before Crock could finish his sentence, Ontario was gone.
Seven days later, Crock's Army had landed in Gloomy Island. The reality of the situation was something none of them were expecting: as they raided the Rebellion, they realised they were robbing from the poor at the behest of the rich, something that would come to haunt them. After leaving the island eight days after arriving, the damage was already done. Crock had resolved to request more say in what his army would do. The Chief Military Advisor of the time, a mysterious man named Elephant, agreed to it, though no-one who heard the decision understood it.
"Listen, I trust Crock to do what's in the best interests of not just the government, but the people it is intended to serve."
Crock's newfound freedom to lead his Army as he wished meant that his exploits were much more positive than the raid against the Gloomy Island Rebellion. However, several media outlets around the world put a spin on Crock's Army, labelling them the "Turnbull Militia" and attempting to discredit them in every way they could. They used the family name Turnbull to cast a shadow on Crock's character, they pointed to their first mission as evidence of self-interest, they looked into Talhad's past and outed him as a thug from Gareth Town.
The years passed, and Crock's Army was doing good all across the world, apart from one place. Crock's desire to explore the Terminus grew, and at a certain point in time, he could no longer deny himself the opportunity.
On the fifth of August, 4077, Crock's Army arrived at the Gogh Strait, having been granted permission to enter the Terminus from the government. The news of the expedition had many people around the world talking, and during the approvals process, the enigmatic Efelgart Bridge had taken it upon himself to join Crock's Army on this new venture.
Talhad, having been humiliated publicly by the media, now went by the name Falhad Trench, and Samantha, having bonded with a parasite and suffered a second identity crisis, now wore a bronze mask and referred to herself as Munge. Both of their new aliases had their origins in Crock's words of encouragement.
After one of their missions, a week after the articles came out about Talhad, several of Crock's more trusted soldiers had a talk about it. His inner circle consisted of Samantha Gogh, Edwin Longchest, Phileas Fogg, Felicia Herring, Zan Revolver, and Mortimer Wolf. Talhad of course was allowed to sit in on the conversation, as it concerned him.
"Look, Talhad comes from a rough neighbourhood. That's no reason to disqualify him from his service," said Crock. "I know for a fact that he is the same person I knew last week. The same soldier that laid his life on the line and saved forty of his fellow combatants from enemy fire. How many of you standing here would condemn someone for the circumstances of their past? All of us are part of this Army not because of our past, but because of our future."
They all could not help but agree with Crock's point of view, they all felt the character smears were unfair. They all wanted to see Talhad grow as a fighter and exemplify as many positive traits as he could.
"If I may," said Phileas. "Coverage is exactly what our group does not need. I think Talhad should adopt an alias from now on, so as to be free from his past."
"Well, that sounds like an idea, what do you think, Talhad?" asked Crock, who turned to look at him and await an answer.
"I am fond of my name, it ties me to a family I sorely miss, but I acknowledge the issue with my past distracting from this Army's future. I cannot simply leave, however, and I want to see my suggestion fulfilled someday. If it please you all, may I use the name 'Falhad Trench' from now on?"
"Swapping the letters around, hm? Sure, why not," said Crock.
Later, on another mission, Crock's Army had just secured the Audio parasite, when Phileas and Zan, who were guarding its containment unit, lost sight of it. They looked around to find Samantha writhing on the floor in agony.
Specimen of unknown identity, you are worthy of my power, she heard a voice say. I am the Audio parasite, and once you figure out who you are, it will be nice to meet you.
When she came to, she was confused by the parasite's statement. As soon as she was able, she ran away from the campsite, and headed to anywhere she could. After several minutes of running through the town, she bumped into someone by chance.
"Oh, hello there, lost lamb," said a voice. Samantha looked at this person, realising she was a blue-skinned woman.
"Lost lamb?" she wondered, not understanding the words.
"Sorry... I know who you were and who you will be, but neither can I divulge to you."
"Pardon?" The encounter made Samantha more and more confused as it went on.
"I can take you someplace safe to figure out who you want to be. Would you like that?"
Samantha agreed, and soon found out that her mysterious benefactor was known as Indigo. She used her contacts within the Gentleman's Club to get the former a position as a Recruit.
There, she almost met Phileas Fogg, narrowly avoiding him. She found it hard to believe that Phileas was so capable as to have two duties at once, and keep both separate while using his real name for both. And he suggested Talhad change his name, she thought. But for real, I need to change my name. And my identity. I've known for some time that Samantha was no more true to myself than Samuel. But who am I?
Samantha remembered the names the inner circle gave each other. Crock was sea-rock, because it sounded like a way of saying his name, C-rock. Samantha had been given the name nutmeg, because of how she seasoned her sandwiches. Edwin earned the name first man, as he could always be counted on in the heat of battle. Phileas assumed the name twilight, because of his unusual sleeping habits. Felicia had the name red, due to her last name. Zan got the name zany by chance, as the word was his name but with a y. Lastly, Mortimer gained the name package deal, because he could be trusted to deliver anything to anyone.
In all, this made the codenames of the group as follows: Sea-Rock, Nutmeg, First Man, Twilight, Red, Zany, and Package Deal. Samantha really wanted to assume the name nutmeg, as it meant more to her than anything else. However, she figured that her friends would too easily deduce her identity from her codename. She rearranged the letters in her head to come up with Munget, but decided to drop the t.
Having come up with a new name, she realised that her physical appearance was a hindrance to herself as well, and thought about who she really aspired to be.
She remembered the comic books she read, before her transition. The man in the bronze mask, Solid Sound.
It seemed fitting that she too, acquired the powers of sound, as her Audio parasite would inform her.
She left the Gentleman's Club HQ, and was greeted by Indigo waiting at the exit, with a bronze mask in her hands.
"I figured you'd need this," she said, handing it over.
"You know where I'm going, don't you?" asked Munge.
"You're going to be you."
Efelgart had been on many adventures, but never to the Terminus. He searched for Crock, to get in touch with him, confident that he could persuade the General to let him come.
"Please, I have been waiting for a calling like this my whole life, I can feel it!" said Efelgart.
"Like you needed to persuade me, I want as many people to come with me as possible."
Crock was serious about that, too. Crock's Army had been expanded to over four thousand people in preparation for this journey to the Terminus.
The more people come, the more people get to experience this journey with me. That was his mindset.
It was the fifth of August, 4077, and Crock's adventures in the Terminus were about to begin.