Lenka grunted in pain as the machine gripped firmly on his arm. He stood in the centre of the old, cold, and weather-battered aircraft hangar, with his hand elbow-deep in the machine. The sound of the rain thundering down on the curved roof resonated throughout the area - big enough to house 20 Lancaster Bombers during the Second World War. The infrastructure holding the building together kept vibrating relentlessly, it was as if the place were about to collapse. The machine finally stopped, and released its monkey-like grip on Lenka. He stumbled over to the old wooden crates that had conveniently been arranged into a seat-like state, and sat down, and ran his sweat-covered fingers through his raven-black hair. He stared down at his now-new wrist decoration. It wasn't just any wrist decoration though. It was red, roundabouts the size of your average house clock, and as thick as one of those books on Shakespeare. Curved, though, for better style. Not that you'd wear it for style.
Lenka looked down at small illuminated red pipes running everywhere over the device. They carried a liquid that, if exposed to sunlight directly, would implode. Essentially, he was wearing a nuclear bomb on his arm. But this liquid also had another function. Something more… battle-suited. He pushed the glowing green button, and waited for a few seconds. Then, it appeared. As if it materialized out of thin air, a thick RPG-shaped high-tech cannon - that looked like it came straight out of a sci-fi movie - had clamped itself to his wrist like a bloodthirsty leech. This was what was known by only 9 extremely high-ranked government officials and to the team of 3 boffins who created it. 'Hell's Killer' was the first option for the name before the creators settled on a more prominent-sounding 'S.E.C.I.S,' 'Skill Enhancing Cannon Infused with Sword.' As the name suggests, this is like an exoskeleton. It will enhance one's strength threefold, like an old drug their ancestors used to use - steroids - without the nasty side effects, or addiction problems.
Only 5 SECIS were developed, and only transported to the top agents - well, what's left of them - on the planet. These 5 agents were coincidentally from the 5 formidable countries at the time - Russia, China, Britain, Japan, and America. Unfortunately, a mishap occurred for the shipment of the American version of the SECIS VIA submarine, so it's very much possible it's now at the bottom of the ocean, irretrievable - because of them.
Yes, them. December 24th, 8314, 04:12. That's when everything unfolded into what it is today. That day, humanity came to see the light of the darkness. Humanity found out the feeling of being ruled by them. Of being frightened by them. Of being killed by them. The Aragami.
The Aragami was something that was predicted a thousands of years ago - in the 2000's. If we gave a robotic machinery a mind of their own - what would happen? Perhaps go on a killing spree? Take over the world? Unstoppably multiply and leave the humans in the dust? This is exactly what happened on December 6th, 8314. A group of three scientists were developing a, what they called, 'Electronical Antibiotic Miracle Elixir.' Its purpose was to be able to be programmed to multiply in a certain selected number, then eliminate sick cells in a life form's body. Following that, it would join the stomach and be flushed out. Unfortunately, during testing on a realistic model of a member of the monkey family, it went haywire. It began to multiply itself exponentially, until it created a shape resembling a common housefly that had been magnified ten times its size.
In the recent years though, humanity has learnt. We have built walls of stone and steel. Developed innovative and extremely advanced technologies. Trained troops to their ragged edges. Prepared defences worthy of protecting the Garden of Eden itself. But that still wasn't enough. The feeling of humiliation from being kept in a cage - the human race recognized this feeling all too well.
It was at 17:59 when Lenka heard the all-too-familiar thunder of a Sukhoi SU-100FA's engine screaming to a halt in the distance. Its grotesquely grass-green camouflaged nose was the first thing he saw out of the gigantic hangar doors, before the cockpit and the fuselage followed. Lenka's radio vibrated furiously in his pocket. He held the red button, and heard the pilot's voice.
"Module Coupling Procedure Successful?"
"Affirmative," replied Lenka.
"Any mishaps to report?"
"Negative."
The aircraft started to taxi past the IS-17 heavy tanks on its way to Lenka, who was exiting the barren, chilly hangar. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. The long walk. The bird fluttering from that tree to the other seemed like a pizza delivery robot on a hoverboard. The clouds gliding along in the stunning orange melancholy sky moved as if it were tugging all of humanity's feelings. They were very, very heavy.
"You know, you don't have to be that serious…" said Pilot Havoc. That was her nickname, awarded to her for being the one who completely botched the attack plan on 'their' nest, and then somehow patching it up 5 minutes later, causing havoc among the planning and recording people - hence the nickname.
"Says the one who completely screwed up one of the most important undertakings of humans in history," muttered Lenka.
"Well, I fixed it, so what's the problem?" She exclaimed in a cheerful tone. She was probably one of the most light-hearted person in the whole of Country Code 'SW501.'
"Anyway, we need to come up with another strategy in defence. They got through last time, remember? They're learning. Just like us," Lenka said.
"Well, when's this plan supposed to be reported in?" Havoc asked in another happy-go-lucky tone that riled her bosses up more than any cat video.
"When this Journey is over. Flying halfway across the world to Russia - or rather, what's left of Russia - is more than enough time."
The sky, which looked like a blend of freshly picked oranges and grapes that had been fused together, with the blueberry-green sea separated by an island in the horizon - it seemed so surreal. The two passengers in the Russian Air Superiority jet fighter entered a sort of philosophical, calm state of mind. Then, to break the silence, Lenka said something.
"18:12, April 12th, 8734. I'll devise a stratagem before this iron bird gets a chance to rest its poor wind-battered wings."
A silence ensued.
"That sounded so clichéd, Lenka."
"Shut up."