This short story is set in the city of Ilima and its surrounding areas. It is set sometime before the events of Gears of War 2 where the city is sank, but it is still occupied by Locust forces and is a hotspot of much warfare and bloodshed. The date is approximately 10AE (after emergence day).

Chapter One – On Patrol

The once picturesque skyline of the city of Ilima had been transformed into a clutter of twisted skyscraper skeletons, a graveyard of buckled monuments and fallen highways. Despite this it was still one of the most intact human settlements on Sera, and the humans fought as fiercely as any Locust to hold on to it. But the city had changed, fields of broken glass and rubble covered the boulevards and parks of the fallen city, the unusual geography was as alien to the humans as it was to their enemies.

Many of the Gears teams deployed to repel the Locust were as much explorers as they were guardians. Even to those who grew up in the city it was now unrecognisable. The city was being remapped constantly, fallen skyscrapers and twisted metal supports were the roads and corridors of the new Ilima.

It was mid summer, the sky was a glorious blue and the suns heat and light flooded the city. But clad in the heavy, full body armour and helmet of the CoG army, Lance Corporal Richard Dunn couldn't enjoy the warm weather. The heat was entirely absorbed by the dark grey armour, and the heavy helmet ensured none of the heat escaped, along with the sweat, which pooled uncomfortably in the uniform worn underneath. Only his forearms were bare, which were burnt red raw from the strong sun. Sun cream wasn't the priority for the limited production lines hastily rebuilt since Emergence day. A few feet behind Dunn there came an angry shout from another Gear, the least experienced of the group, Private Danny Moore.
"Screw this shit, I'm taking this off!" The Gears stopped and turned to look at the grunt, who had dropped his Lancer and was fruitlessly fumbling with his helmet.
"Cut that out, we're under orders to stay fully armoured at all times when in the city!" Sergeant Vose shouted. He was the commander of the small squad, and had more years in combat than the other 3 combined. A decorated war hero from the Pendulum wars, Vose had been fighting a constant war his entire life. Born into a socialist family of long serving loyalty to the CoG, he enlisted at the age of 16 and fought in multiple tours until the end of the Pendulum wars. A few weeks later his short lived peace was shattered on Emergence day, and along with the whole world he was threw into another fight, but not a fight for resources or politics, for Survival. It was rumoured he had killed thousands of Locusts with the same Retro lancer he had been issued almost a generation ago, and had participated in many major raids leading to the CoG capture of Hammer of Dawn technology that won the Pendulum wars. Now here he was arguing with some kid to keep his helmet on.
"With all due respect Sergeant, this heats gonna' kill me before the Locust." Moore griped as he continued tugging on the top of his helmet. Vose placed his archaic rifle down carefully on the floor and stepped slowly towards the grunt.
"Listen carefully now, I'm ordering you to leave that helmet on." Vose growled, his voice was now dangerously quiet. Dunn began pacing nervously, he'd seen someone disobey the Sergeant before. It didn't end well. Moore muttered words a few words of complaint, but his hands left his helmet, and he picked up his rifle and continued on dejectedly.
Vose returned to his rifle and picked it up, dusting it off almost lovingly before continuing on with the rest of the squad.

The Gears walked on for hours, Moore had stopped complaining about his helmet, and in fact had stopped communicating completely, simply walking forward, his head down. As they passed over many smashed roads full of cars leaking imulsion and other unhealthy looking chemicals, destroyed pipelines carrying fuel, sewage and various leftovers from viscous firefights, it became clear to Dunn why they had to wear masks. Disease was rife in the jungle of broken and abandoned leftovers of war, human technology and industry. Dunn could swear he saw Moore even pull the helmet tighter onto his head as they passed over a shallow radioactive lake of a leaking imulsion factory.

The sun had began to reach unbearable levels when Vose finally spoke again,
"Ok it must be the 13th hour, so you've all got 20 minutes to rest and take a drink. We'll use that old garage over there," he pointed a gloved hand towards a dilapidated but still standing vehicle service station across the road from the gears. They advanced into the building, weapons raised and in silence, carrying out a well rehearsed search of the building. Stranded still lived in the city in their hundreds, if not thousands. They had a hatred for the CoG soldiers, and some fired on their fellow humans as readily as they would the Locust. Settlements like that though would usually be destroyed by a king raven assault if any Gears were harmed, so most of the Stranded settlements treated Gears with indifference, or avoided them completely. Nowhere was safe for sure.
The building was pronounced clear by Vose, and the Gears relaxed, took off their helmets and slumped down in the main service room of the building. Vose remained standing however, and began walking around the garage inspecting the machinery and supplies with an unhealthy curiosity for a man who had just walked for hours in intense heat wearing full combat armour.
"Can we take our helmets off yet?" Moore asked. The Sergeant didn't turn away from the chassis he was gazing at and let out an indifferent grunt sound, which roughly translated to 'do what you want'. The other three gears gratefully pulled off their helmets and enjoyed the feeling of cool air on their faces, despite coughing slightly at the dank and oily smell no longer filtered out by their oxygen filters.
Dunn sat between Moore and the last member of the squad, his fellow soldier and childhood friend, Corporal Miles Villagomez. They had both grown up during the late stages of the Pendulum wars, both raised in a war loving society, yet still were both barely adults fighting for the survival of their race. Miles was short and stocky, standing at 5'11 and weighing just shy of 200lbs. He was shorter than Dunn but both were well built as a result of intensive Gears training and dieting. They were both 19 years old. Dunn looked over at Moore, who was now sleeping. Moore was 17 years old and had only seen combat a few times. He was taller than everyone else in the squad, but wasn't as wide or heavy as the average Gear, he had to retake the Gears weapons exam twice for dropping the Mortar on (and breaking) his C.O's foot. If it wasn't for a shortage of troops he would have probably been kicked out. The kid had a lot to learn but was a loyal soldier.
There was a loud screeching noise from the corner of the garage and Dunn jumped to his feet, his rifle already pointed out instinctively. The Sergeant looked over from the corner where he had pulled open a heavy metal door.
"At ease men, just taking a look in here," he growled, as reassuringly as he could, although it still sounded like a threat. Dunn breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down, Miles who also stood up did the same, but Moore was still asleep in the corner. Vose vanished into the unexplored room and was gone for a few minutes until he shouted through.
"I've found a shit load of supplies! Cans of Imulsion and some weapons, looks like someone was going to hole up here!" he called, sounding excited. "Breaks over, get in here and help me haul this crap." Dunn sighed and stood up; he woke up Moore with a light kick before going over to the doorway.

Dunn stepped through the doorway into a small room which was stocked high with cans of imulsion and a small mountain of weaponry and ammunition. Caches of useful stuff like this one showed up all the time, from Stranded storing emergency stockpiles and then likely forgetting about them or getting killed, but this was definitely the biggest haul Dunn had ever seen. Even Vose, who had now removed his own helmet, looked excited.
"This is too much for us to carry, I'm going to radio in see if we can get a 'Dil or even a rig pick up." The Sergeant laughed. Dunn tried to look enthusiastic, but he knew this would mean waiting for a pickup which would take hours, and then there was a chance they'd even have to walk back at night if the vehicle was filled up with the new supplies. The sergeant seemed to pick up on his concerns,
"Don't worry Lance Corporal, I'll get a convoy or at least a couple of vehicles, this stash is worth risking the army for!" he exclaimed. He then grabbed his radio and left the room, heading outside of the garage for a clear signal. Dunn was left in the room with the other two gears, who began sorting through the piles of weapons. Moore picked up a large dangerous looking weapon sporting two razor sharp blades resembling an axe.
"What the hell is this? I got to get me one of these!" he said as he ran his finger along one of the blades and peered at the unusual barrel of the weapon.
"That's a torque bow, be careful with that, it'll blow up the room if you press the wrong thing. And with the imulsion in here, you'll probably sink Ilima for good." Miles warned. Moore snorted and carried on inspecting the weapon,
"Whatever, Ilima's never going to sink, it's too big," he laughed. Miles shrugged and began grouping together all the ammunition which he recognised into small piles. Moore, obviously bored, tossed the torque bow to one side and turned back to the pile. The weapon landed with a loud crash and the blades slowly began to retract, the weapons end began to glow and hummed loudly.
"Oh shit." Moore swore.

Dunn leapt onto the weapon and ran out of the storeroom with it. He aimed it towards the open doorway a split second before the weapon snapped forwards and sent a glowing arrow sailing out of the garage and into a wrecked vehicle on the kerb opposite from the garage. It detonated. The first explosion split the vehicle in half. The Imulsion from the cars gas tank had yet to be scavenged, and ignited. The second explosion took out the rest of the street.
The loud thuds of a retro Lancer shook the street and Vose screamed into his radio, letting off rounds in every direction.
"Enemy contact, possible Theron Guards! Send reinforcements to grid square Zulu-Kilo-10-89!" He ran into the garage, staring in disbelief and anger at the gears.
"Didn't you morons hear me! Enemy contact, where are your weapons!" he roared. Moore stepped forward, shaking slightly.
"Er- sorry, Sergeant," he muttered. Vose stood still for a moment, his eyes darting between the grunt and the spent Torque bow on the floor. He opened his mouth to shout but was interrupted as the ground beneath them began to tremble violently, the room began to shake violently, tools and equipment crashed to the floor and the very ground they stood on rumbled loudly.
To anyone it would sound like a normal earthquake, gigantic plates moving beneath the earth, the planet stirring. But to a gear the sound was unmistakable. It brought fear to the hearts of the bravest soldiers, and those 'lucky' enough to hear it a second time knew it was not an earthquake.

The Locust were coming.