While you may know me as Ray, my true name was Statinsav. You may think I'm a young man, I'm not. At forty two years old, I still have it in me. My life wasn't easy as in my childhood, it was horror. Ukraine was under a regime of oppression, even the mildest of dissidence resulted in execution. The war in the Donbass region raged on with Russia involved directly with evidence proving it. Tension at record highs, protests, violence, riots, and even revolutions in some of the oblasts. This was negated slightly from what's to come later on, only for me to see how it would affect my life. What caused me to become the man I was today was because of one massacre, three men, a world war, one organization, and the subdivision of a military branch of an East Asian country.
-Statinslav Ivanov
38 Years Ago
Chernihiv, Chernihiv Oblast, Ukraine
Roars of change and demands dominated the atmosphere of Krasna Square, scatted apart almost like penguins, some individuals and groups chanting things like "Death to Vitalij Shvets.", "Democracy now!", and "Down with the government." in Ukrainian. Some were holding signs of demands for reform in Cyrillic. And the fewest took to rioting against the blockade of riot police wielding shields of a black stripe with "Поліція" in bold, white lettering. Statinslav's uncle, Bohdan Ivanov, waving a one handed sign in his hand, shouting almost like his voice box was about to explode, his tone stern but almost altering under the collective influence of the police and the other protesters.
"Perekonaytesya, shcho tsi politseysʹki ublyudky otrymuyutʹ yim ad!" yelled an omnic from the crowd, a baggy suit and tie along with slacks marking his appearance, pulling out a submachine plasmic gun of plastic dominating it's visual profile but tainted blue from plastic blocking out it's true color, purple.
Suddenly, a flow of omnics almost like an omnium pushed out of a silvery gray van, possessing assault weapons with a large plasma cannon the size of a tank turret on top of the van. Almost all of the peaceful protesters except for the rioting ones attempt to escape the square, pulse rounds and bullets fly from the pro change omnics and the riot police, gunpowder encompassing the surrounding area intermixed with ozone. Screams for help and moans of pain and death seeping into the consciousness of the protesters. But the firefight pinned all parties involved in their current positions to hope for the best. Molotov cocktails lobbed from rioters like stones above a stone wall, scarlet flames breach and lit the police blockades upwards, almost like it was Fahrenheit 451, but with materials with burning temperatures higher than paper and on a more destructive scale.
"Stanyslav, bizhy z Krasnoyi ploshchi!" Bohdan demanded to Statinslav, getting up towards the initial omnic, running directly at it. "TY SUKA!" he'd yell, punching the omnic dead in the face.
Statinslav during the point of his life was powerless against the force that was about to be the Krasna Massacre. With his uncle obtaining the plasma weapon the first extremist omnic possessed in his hands.
"HOTUYSYA DO SMERTI MUSOR!" Bohdan roared, aiming and firing the weapon, firing shot after shot, it's plastic on the brim of melting from it's casing.
From the police blockade, the shots's energy powerful enough to melt the shields apart like if it was soft butter, police echelons breaking down.
"Likvidatsiya vsikh vyzhyly." the commanding officer ordered to the unit.
Like a machine, the entirety of the unit capable obliged without question, aiming their weapons like the volley fire technique of early modern warfare. Firing in unison, crimson blood was spilt across the square. Bodies falling truly limp. Then, a plasmic projectile hits the commanding officer by the skull, the plasma fierce to burn the flesh of his head off almost like it was nothing, bone of to never to be seen present, his body falling limp, his lower left leg perpendicular to his right leg, which is kept straight, arms elbowing at the top, his now visible skull turning towards a nearby building while turned in an inhuman way. During that moment as well, Bohdan was stricken by a pulse weapon which scars his chest.
"Statynslav..." he'd moan.
"Dyadʹko!" Statinslav hollered in concern to his uncle.
"Zapustitʹ..." Bohdan replied, his voice faint like a spirit's, falling down to face the floor.
"NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" Statinslav screamed in fear, eyes becoming watery.
He'd grasp the plasma weapon, firing without aiming at the police blockade as the group of omnic extremists watched as a four year old kid does their job. While blindly fired, plasma arcs bursting across the square almost mindless, concrete scowered or cracked, police shields and weapons melting, hell broke loose to a crazed group of riot police which pushed, almost planning to execute Statinslav and the extremists without command preventing them. Statinslav drops the weapon, rushing past the square in a southwesterly direction. Passing a while away from the square, a man with a Ukrainian Army uniform grabs the young Statinslav almost like it was breathing.
"Ne khvylyuysya, mene zvaty Uuhu. Poky vy perebuvayete zi mnoyu, moya hrupa, i ya zabezpechyty, shchob uryad ne namahavsya vbyty vas." the man announced with a normal tone and a thick Portuguese accent despite him grabbing Statinslav, releasing him soon after.
The man that said something to Statinslav was Uugu, a colonel of the Foreign Legion, a paramilitary organization
32 Years Ago
A Foreign Legion Camp in Poland
During the six years since the Krasna Massacre, Uuhu took Statinslav in, personally training him in the art of war; how to fire a firearm properly, throwing a grenade without blowing yourself up, hand to hand combat, strategy and tactics, leadership and discipline, and the capability to use the basics of various types of weapons from heavy machine guns to shoulder launched missiles, along with teaching English to him as it was the working language of the Foreign Legion.
"Is mission ready to go?" Statinslav asked, his heavy Ukrainian accent from later on in life was present, but was slightly higher pitched, cocking up a SAW heavy pulse machine gun, it's clunks radiating throughout the tent he was in.
"Your fireteam is ready to be deployed." replied the pilot, his helmet without the visor for the moment, saluting him.
Outskirts of an Omnium in Poland
One of the Foreign Legion's helicopters, marked blue with an overall green pain job in the form of curves, landing it's treads on the soft, moist earth from the rain and dew earlier on.
"Follow me!" Statinslav ordered as his fireteam of four other individuals disembarked from the helicopter, his uniform composed of camouflage with on each side the flag of the Foreign Legion, the twelve stripes with a white circle with a slightly smaller globe, denoting his authority, and on the botten was the Ukrainian flag, denoting his nationality.
Statinslav and his fireteam progressed slowly towards the omnium, an omnic factory. Each around the world are different, from layout to belts, to power usage. After twelve minutes of walking, tall walls of steel with plated diamonds come into view. Statinslav immediately pulls out the flaming grenade, a clear cylindrical grenade with kerosene with a lighter in it's interior below the pin.
"CLEAR!" Statinslav ordered as he'd pull the pin, ablazing the kerosene within the grenade, lobbing it at the wall of giants.
The flaming grenade detonates, spewing intense flames outwards like a fireball on steroids. Clearing out moments later to smoke, a high degree arch of heated metal forming. Collapsing on itself from the heat, forming a way in without detecting to surveillance of the Omnica Corporation.
"GO, GO, GO!" Statinslav ordered.
"Affirmative!" replied his subordinate soldiers.
All of them sprinted like it was the most intense track race in history, passing by the hole of the three meter thick walls and into the factory, working like clockwork, claws grasping hold of parts, welders performing the welding, sparks flying across the assembly line of omnics.
"Polio, slicing time." Statinslav ordered.
Polio, their hacker, releases a drone from his backpack, appearing with a flat top with spider legs, hovering up and down to find a computer which connected to it's main network.
"Polio, stay with your drone. The rest of you, follow me." Statinslav ordered.
None replied, following his order. The other three advanced into the power district within the omnium, passing through a maze of hallways of wires. After a while the fusion core, a massive spire of energy created by hydrogen into helium, connected to the brim with wires, was in their view.
"Watch for wires." Statinslav advised.
All of them dispersed across the room, each with a bag of fusion capsules, a glass encased container with high powered fusion energy and a nozzle at the top, inserting from the five slots with insertion pods of twelve capsules each. Statinslav approaches the pod, not visible for insertion, hidden behind a card scanner, blocking his way. Crounching down, Statinslav slammed the base of his pistol into the card slit, breaching it's casing and to the practical things with the card, he'd fire a shot into it, causing a short circuit which resulted in the protection case of the pod itself rising up. Removing the capsule cluster, Statinslav one by one puts his hand at the capsules, gripping it lightly, removing the capsules one by one and inserting them into the pod.
"Is your pods done?" Statinslav asked to the rest of the group who have followed what he had did to insert the capsules.
"Affirmitive." replied the other three, ready to continue forward with the operation.
Statinslav picks up his radio and activates it, a green button glowing. "Polio, activate fusion capsule pods numbered E678, FF01, and JYYG." he'd order to Polio.
"Activating coding sequence..." Polio replied, his drone activating the code to activate the capsules.
Within seconds, piping above the fusion core glowed blue, the fusion energy from the pods entering the core, but to see outside was the factory was now running like rushed clockwork, more omnics but with less general quality, while the machines have caught up, the employees didn't. After a few minutes of unwinding from the building, Statinslav received a message.
"Is the omnium producing the required Bastion units?" the other side asked.
"Not that I know of." Statinslav replied, grasping his radio.
"Very well." said the other side. "You just have signed your death warrant from Uugu for that." it followed up with.
"Something's fishy... It said I just signed a death warrant, then it shouldn't be joked about... I better find more about this." Statinslav said to himself as they enter the helicopter to return to camp.
Translations:
Поліція(Ukrainian Cyrillic): Police
Perekonaytesya, shcho tsi politseysʹki ublyudky otrymuyutʹ yim ad(Ukrainian): Make sure these police bastards burn in hell
Stanyslav, bizhy z Krasnoyi ploshchi(Ukrainian): Statinslav, run away from Krasna Square!
HOTUYSYA DO SMERTI MUSOR(Ukrainian): PREPARE TO DIE GARBAGE
Likvidatsiya vsikh vyzhyly(Ukrainian): Eliminate all survivors
Dyadʹko(Ukrainian): Uncle
Zapustitʹ(Ukrainian): Run