This story might not seem like any Harry Potter story, but somewhere in here you'll find something subtle. I do not own Harry Potter, but I plan to make him suffer a little.
D-Day
My name is Elder. I have no last name, or any other title. I was made an Elder one day, and that shall not change.
This is a story I am trying write for the generations ahead of us, and I guess I'll name this chapter D-Day.
I sometimes have a feeling that I can't remember something, but it's probably a battle plan that I forgot about or something of the like.
You forget grocery lists. I forget supply necessities. You watch TV. I plan harvesting runs.
You have a completely different world than your own, were you can live in safety and food is in the fridge or at the grocery store.
I live in a world which has been overrun by something called the Dark.
There have been ancient texts that disintegrated hundreds of years ago stating that there was an evil terrorist group that could manipulate matter and electrons in a way that was called "magic".
These are nothing like what those texts describe. These are worse.
They jam transmissions. They kill men with thoughts. They can easily overpower your pitiful wizardry, and I'm afraid that we can kill you almost as easily.
What? I'm trying to voice-write here.
I'm sorry. I have to get to Harvest Point 34-B now.
A young, grayish-black haired man ran along an alleyway, and motioned to nobody.
Immediately, a few darkly dressed people slipped out of the rubble around them and began to slip cartridges into weapons.
This would seem like a simple gang war, but these weapons were not simple AK-47s, they were H-Bolters, and there had been no civilians in this neighborhood for at least thirty years.
The leader began walking, and without a word, the now-crowd silently followed him. He hefted his weapon and jerked his head; watching as the growing mass of people who now numbered fifty spread apart and take cover in the ruined rubble, buildings or sparse green. He waved the stragglers on and charged the H-B with a small whine.
More whines came up around him and they waited. A man motioned to him, holding up a dying cell-phone. He shook his head. The man returned to his position and hefted an aging RPG.
The leader waited for a few more minutes, and then gestured for the Harvesters to move, some of which already moving. The crowd grew tense as the heavily armored Harvesters edged into the buildings.
He noticed a small, match sized box close to his foot and froze, his breath caught in his chest. It beeped, and he cursed mentally in three different languages while searching the sides of the walls with a flash light.
Shining it on a rooftop and finding a satellite dish, he quickly gestured for the people to move as the Harvesters began to come out of the buildings, their canisters filled with supplies. The shadows began lengthening abnormally as they quickly scanned the area with malfunctioning scanners.
Immediately, they began running south, nobody daring to breathe heavily as they retreated. Stopping at the buses and trucks, the leader motioned for a headcount. The militia leader shook his head, but the lead Harvester quickly took a head count and held up three fingers.
Three of them were lost. He cursed, scanned the night for any human movement and signaled for the waiting, sweating drivers to open their doors. The buses took off, synthetic-titanium treads leaving no marks or sound on the night.
The leader slid the cartridges onto the sides of the bolter and slung it on the wall, looking subtly at the hungry and anxious families that lived in Ground Zero. He stepped onto the podium, and said softly and with sorrow, "Jane Muldrick, Franklin Hao and Manuel Rodriguez had to be left behind. Let there be a moment of silence for their lives." There was only a moment's sniffling, and then complete silence.
The silence ended as the children began to whine, and their teachers quickly motioned for them to get some of the supplies. Two men came up to the leader, and the fair-haired one stated blandly, "We need more food. We can't last forever like this." The other, more portly man reddened and said, "I'm sorry to state more bad news, but we need to talk to the Frederick Clan. They're getting very ambitious and there was almost a skirmish yesterday with some of the more rebellious members."
The leader ran a hand through his hair and mulled over their statements. "We have a surplus of machinery. We can trade with the Frederick Clan for food if we can produce more, and they have always said they need more land, and frankly, we have too much territory to cover. Tell the men who were smart enough to argue to cool it or they'll get Harvester duty.
The blonde man sighed and said, "Elder, we can't trade machinery for food, the parts are just too hard to find. We're still working on the energy core."
The leader said bluntly, "We found the last necessary piece today. We can trade energy for food."
The blonde man shook his head. "It'll take a week to implant it, another to charge it. We need the entire SAW corps out there. The Fredericks say they're venturing into Dark territory, and they live close to our position. Who knows what would happen?"
The black-haired leader slumped onto a bench and said, "Get three quarters of the infantry out there and keep the militia and SAW corps around Base Camp. If you can, ask any clan nearby for help. We're the largest camp in the area, and we supply pretty much everything besides food. If they want to trade with us, they need to keep us alive."
The portly man cut in cautiously. "What about the new division, Elder?"
The Elder nodded hesitantly. "Get them ready near Ground Zero. Only if necessary, my friend. I have a feeling we're going to need them, whatever collateral damage they may cause."
The black-haired Elder jumped down from the truck and walked through the heavily fortified town, noticing the amount of food and building materials on different groups of vehicles. He nodded to the guards and ducked under a low, reinforced doorway. He walked up to Albert Frederick, shaking his hand vigorously. "Hello, old friend." Albert returned the handshake and the warm smile, before turning grim.
"Both our clans have their own needs. I have much food, but I am running out of machinery and energy. I hear from some of your more loose-lipped members that you need food, but you have what I need, in abundant amounts."
The Elder from Ground Zero simply nodded, as nosiness wasn't concealed often to benefit the community. "We are likely to be attacked by whatever lies in Dark territory if you continue exploring to the North. I ask for food and an alliance, and if we survive, we will trade with you, seeing as we are the largest camp in the area."
Albert shook his head and stated, "You are the largest Clan in the area. If you are killed, we will fall soon after, and we need at least some hope of survival. Give me ten SAWs and show me that you will be backed by at least eight other large camps, then, me and some of the other survivors will join with you."
The Elder clasped his hand on top of Albert's. "I will do the best I can. My scouts are looking for alliances with the warlords in the area…." His voice turned sorrowful. "I am sorry, Albert, but it cannot be helped."
Albert took a deep breath and attempted to remain calm. "Very well. We are all human beings, and there must be good in us all, and I we've been friends for a long time. I will give you a truckload of food for five, non-gasoline running vehicles."
The Elder shook his head slightly. "You know we need those parts. Two vehicles, each filled with a kilo of energy bottles."
Albert sighed. "Add one more vehicle and we have a deal."
The Elder nodded, and said, "The supplies will arrive tomorrow. I'll persuade as many other Elders as I can."
Clasping hands again, the Elder hopped into the van he arrived in after a small sprint. Looking back, he smiled in a tired, happy way and waved goodbye as the truck drove away.
Albert watched him leave, and beckoned toward his grand-nephew. "You leave for Dark Territory in five days. Prepare all the volunteers that you can recruit." John Frederick nodded, and began to shout to the other members of the encampment.
"Warlords. I almost want to run out there and blow everyone of those mongrels up." Muttered Albert.
"Why would he do something so stupid!" raged the Elder. Panting and shaking his aching knuckles, he began running up to the surface through the 12-Main Pillar.
The entire city was actually a partially underground, massive, cylindrical mall that had been excavated much further and reinforced with concrete. It was way more fortified than intended, so they would be able to survive down here quite well.
Rushing to the War Room, the officers immediately laid hastily sketched plans in front of him.
"The Energy Core isn't working yet, but now has enough energy to support food synthesis, so we won't starve if we keep it defended. As you know, the whole city is a cylinder in a excavated, reinforced sphere twenty times its size, and we've built more spherical buildings around the area. What you might not know is that John from Full Circle had a brilliant idea to install disruptor cannons on the encircling bridge and sides on little balconies." The officer spread out an analysis in front of him.
"We have the Core and Ground Zero in the Alpha Pillar, on the side to prevent a barrage from all sides. As you know, with every cannon there is an anti-air flak cannon and at least three HMG groups. Here we have around twenty rocket teams and a Militia Corps on that edge." He pointed to the ledges adjacent to the building. "If we use the previously installed fire stations and the disruptors, we can hold the assault right here." He pointed to the shell the surrounded the Alpha Pillar. "We have the Militia and some of the Infantry right around us on the surface, in fortifications. The ACU Corps is right next to Ground Zero."
The Elder turned his head as he heard shouting. "We have around twenty thousand vehicles coming in from all direction in a five hundred mile radius." The officer said, ignoring the shouting and laying down a holographic pad. "These are the warlords in the area who have decided to accept your offer. They've abandoned their ravaged camps and are coming to us. The ones from the North are closely followed by unidentified, huge masses of fog and chaos on the radar." He looked up, his eyes filled with despair. "Dark Territory units."
The Elder cursed and said, "Get all of the arrivals near the outer shell and arm their women and men with everything we have ASAP. Get the Core running if you can. Do it now!"
The officer shouted and cursed in an uncharacteristic display of anger. "Please sir, use your head! We should keep them around the shell and Beta Pillar with only a minimal extra amount at our shell! That should confuse them. Plus, the core will take another few days to turn on. You should stall and give our engineers time."
Another officer ran up to the Elder and gave him a laptop. He looked over it, and slowly dismissed him, shoulders trembling.
Fury and sadness running through him, the Elder said, "I have to run. Stall and confuse. Quickly, get as many SAWs as you can in the Alpha Pillar Casing." His voice dropped. "Get the Demise Corps out on the bridges."
The officer gulped and saluted. "Immediately!"
Sprinting, the Elder left the organized chaos of the War Room and ran up all the way to the surface, leaping in the way of the first vehicle. The driver and gunner quickly helped Albert Frederick off and carried him to the Elder.
"Albert! Why! Why would you do this to all of us! You gave them our location like a feeding ground!" He collapsed just as the Elder caught him. "Medic! Get him to the hospital!" The truck driver ran back to the truck and drove it around to the fortifications, his gunner attempting to put his arm under his leader for support. The Elder shouted to the men around him, and attempted to carry Albert's limp body. "Al! Damnit, we went on our first run together, you have people who care, you can't just die on me!" The Elder garbled at him, tears slipping out of his eyes."No… Time…. had look at core plans…… going to blow soon… run… area dangerous…" His muscles relaxed and he uttered a last, rattling breath. Blood began to stop seeping out of his wounds.
Something tapped his shoulder, and he turned slowly. The young, teenage gunner flinched at the cold, hardened face and said, "There's no time. We'll take care of him, sir. You want me to get a message out to the technicians?"
The Elder said nothing for several seconds, oblivious to the world around him. Finally, two almost lifeless sentences came out of his mouth. "Take Albert to the mortuary. Tell the Hospital to prepare the Paradise Needle."
"You must understand, Elder. This injection has a 99.937 percent chance of killing you." The fat, balding doctor stated nervously. "You need major surgery before you're ready for this."
The Elder did nothing except lie down on the table, his eyes blank and his muscles completely relaxed. The doctor had to check if he was still breathing.
"Sir, I have a doctorate in genetic alteration. Can I at least suggest the Prototype? It'll only take a few minutes."
The Elder grabbed his shirt, pulled him closely and uttered, "Do only what you need to do."
The doctor quickly began to sanitize his skin with one hand, the other frantically gesturing for the nurses around the room to help him.
The Elder just watched the ceiling and cables with hardened eyes as they wheeled him into the Experimental Section.
So? What do you think? R and R please, this is my first fanfiction.
Every random word that's in here will be described in time...