Prologue
A dense fog surrounded a man as he found himself in an unfamiliar city. He began to walk down the center of an avenue that was void of life, littered with burning vehicles and the smell of lingering blood. A heavy loneliness burdened him as he looked around in a desperate search for signs of people, but he only heard the screams of them being tortured and brutally killed. He tried to run, but he found himself crawling at a snail's pace. As his foot hit the ground, he heard a slosh sound as if stepping into a puddle. He looked down to see the street lined with disfigured bodies covered in blood, each of them aligned neatly like cobblestones. They whispered his name, calling out for help, to end their pain and suffering. As much as he wanted to scream, he couldn't. His face remained glued in it's current expression of nothingness and his mouth refused to open.
Black ash falling from the sky whipped around from the prevailing winds and a loud humming noise caught his attention. He snapped his head towards the sky, which was as gray and dismal as the fog, where the low noise was coming from. A large metal, ship-like monstrosity manifested out of the clouds; its length seemingly had no end. The ship continued to reveal itself until a large circular ring can be seen on its underside. He watched on as the ring emanated a fascinating bright light that put him into a trance while a low demonic voice laughed at his demise. Not matter how hard he tried to look away, his eyes wouldn't budge and he remained there until the white light consumed everything around him. Squinting from the remnants of the light, he saw a humanoid figure with its back turned. Slowly approaching it, he noticed that the figure was female and he managed to called out to her, but with no response. He shouted over and over until he was within arms reach and grabbed her by the shoulder.
Images flashed in his mind in rapid succession, giving him very little time to comprehend them. He caught glimpses of people dying, building on fire and collapsing, machines laying waste to innocents, and a dark misty being staring him face to face. They all relayed the same message: death and destruction. The images stopped and the woman in front of him turned around to show her burnt, cracked, bloodied face followed by a high pitched screamed that caused his heart to race and to finally awaken from this nightmare.
He quickly sat up from his bed, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. He felt the beat of his heart in his throat as he looked around the room to make sure he was back in the real world. To his assurance he was, and he slammed back down onto the bed and sighed in relief. A knock came to the door and he heard a very familiar voice that belonged to the general.
"Cain? You up?"
He sat back up again and groaned loud enough for the general to hear.
"Aw did I wake you?" He mocked. "Get your ass out of bed Cain. We're meeting the other embassies today and I need you looking your best. And make it pronto, we're leaving in five."
"Aye aye, captain." He saluted the door. He looked at the clock on the nightstand next to his bed and he shook his head knowing that he overslept, which would have been a disaster. He headed for a special looking closet, sealed tight in a metal casing with a digital display that prompted a password. After pressing a few buttons, the doors opened with a hiss as the vacuum broke, and inside hung black, full body armor with a red tripe that ran around the collar and a patch labeled, R.E.D. imbedded in its right shoulder. Next to it was his trusty shotgun, custom made for his needs and able to take down any foe that wanders in its sights. He removed the armor and suspended it in mid air with the flick of his wrist and turned his back to it. Taking two steps back, the armor conformed to him like a viscous liquid and finally settled after he rolled his shoulders for a bit. The mirror next to the closet showed a determined man ready to face whatever challenges that lied ahead of him. His blue eyes stared cautiously as he made sure everything was in check. He knocked a few times on his armor which gave off the echo of metal; a signal that told him that everything was a go and he ran his hands through his short blonde hair, checking for any unsightly cowlicks. Just as he was about to grab his gun, he saw the faint images of the woman in his dreams. He could hear the distinct scream in his head; a scream that he hopes to forget. A shake of the head made him focus and the face vanished from the mirror.
It was just a dream Cain. Nothing more.
Grabbing the shotgun from the closet, he inspected it thoroughly as he did with his armor and loaded a magazine into the slot and reached over to store it on a gun holster on his back. Gripping his fists, he smiled one last time before heading out the door to meet with the general.