Total Drama Eden

by Lord NV

Total Drama is back! This time, the show's 52 contestants are joined by 31 participants from the Ridonculous Race and 25 newcomers in a big competition set on a one-of-a-kind island called Eden. Friendships and rivalries are formed and ended, hearts unified and shattered. Who will win? And how could Cody defeat a nemesis from his past. [Reboot of Total Drama Apogee]

4. Premiere Eve: Night

Finally able to post the last of the prologue chapters, this was supposed to be published sometime last month but progress has been considerably slowed because I had to deal with my personal life. Anyway this chapter is a monster I admit, counting to 20k and the largest one I've ever written up to this date.

Poll is closed; team setup for TDE will be Dynamic. I'm surprised that many have sided with my solution, seems like we all share the sentiment for boundless interactions among the many contestants.

Lastly before we start, credit to Skillet28561 and Tokusatsu-31st Century for helping me with Abraham's section.

Premiere Eve

---

Onagers were ancient siege weapons first pioneered by the Roman Empire for besieging forts or settlements, hurling objects from a great distance to the defenders of said locations. Its use was then passed on to the Middle Ages before fading into antiquity as the cannons came to existence.

But it can still be used for fun.

On a large garden beneath the starry night, one such thing has been assembled from the package ordered and was the size of about a room. The delivery had been made in the past months and had just arrived this late afternoon after several delays.

A young boy stepped back after finishing the assembly with a bright smile, his petite figure befitting his 14-years of age. He has a blonde hair reflecting the moonlight and green eyes that he used to admire his work with a bright, lively smile. His clothing is composed of a long gray hoodie with the word 'FUN' written in white, blue jeans and a pair of blue rubber shoes.

Wilbur Milton is the second child born to Marcus and Hilda Milton, thus making him the younger brother of the Total Drama contestant Dakota Milton. Being born to a family of high standing, Wilbur is expected to act dignified like his fellow Milton's.

Too bad he's born a childish thrill-seeker and an idiot.

The assembled onager has been positioned directly to their family mansion, having done so in secret considering that his parents and even his sister banned him from ordering deliveries after the dreaded 'Laser light show' incident levelled their mansion to rubble during one of his sister's parties.

Now that she's mentioned, he felt kind of glad that Dakota had returned to normal; the mutation was apparently been temporary as she reverted back to her original beautiful self after a week.

Now for his reason in building this onager, he plans to hurl a projectile towards the row of pillars in front of their mansion... And the projectile happens to be himself.

Of course this will hurt a lot, but he was born with a condition that gave him a nigh-immunity to pain and not to mention his fast recovery. Also, they have a large medical insurance to cover his injuries, in fact that makes up 25% of their yearly expenditures.

The purpose? Just Fun!

With excitement coursing in his veins, he puts a helmet on and grabbed the trigger from the ground before hopping on the bucket. He pressed the button and a countdown began from the screen.

3... he dropped the trigger on the grass below.

2... he took a fetal position

1...

"WOOHOO!" He cheered with a big smile as he is lurched in the air, only a second before crashing on the three pillars and bringing them down along with the balcony their supporting.

The ambulance came a few minutes later. Dakota watched from the gate as the medical personnel carried her brother to the ambulance and drove away.

Her only reaction is to put a palm on her face. "Not again Wilbur"

---

Within the confines of a studio, a group of ten girls can be seen performing ballet as a serene music played in the background. The movements were graceful and synchronized, enough to spark amazement in the eyes of others. With them is a woman around her 60s, dressed immaculately as she watched her students perform.

Rachel Grant herself used to be a ballet performer, but has retired a long time ago as age finally caught up with her body. She had since then taken the position as an instructor over the girls before her, imparting her experience to the new generation. Dressed immaculately, she sat cross-legged on a chair as her bespectacled eyes observed the performers.

Although Rachel is observing her students, her eyes were always focused on a particular one.

The young lady's name was Julissa Grant, the only child of her nephew Garfield Ballin. Out of the entire group, Julissa herself performed the most graceful out of all her students. She had a curly back-length chestnut hair with chin-length bangs framing her face and cerulean eyes framed by long, black eyelashes.

Julissa always has a smile on her face every performance, but beneath the smile is a horrid past.

Unknown to all but her, Julissa had a grim background.

Her relationship with her nephew Garfield is very distant considering the man was a drunkard and a smoker who worked as a bartender on some Nightclub downtown, there he met this recently-employed woman who is as sleazy as him and had an affair during a drunken night. Julissa became the resulting consequence, a pure soul born from tainted parents. But sadly, the girl had been born deaf because of her mother's unawareness of the pregnancy back then along with her heavy drinking and smoking. Since birth, the young child endured the abuse of her parents. Julissa could only afford a standard education given how the money they earn are mostly spent on indulging themselves, she had only been enrolled to not bother them. Julissa's school life was no better as her disability made her an outcast, most unfortunate as she had placed high hopes on her school. True that the teachers and staff were kind to her, but her fellow students are not quite as she frequently became a victim of bullying because of her disability.

Julissa was 10 when she came to her doorstep, her cheek stained with dried tears and bruises; it was the first time she knew and met her. Rachel honestly thought of her as a street urchin at first, until she revealed her relation to her nephew and even brought something as proof; Garfield's necklace was something she gave to him on his 13th birthday and there was not a single day he doesn't wear it – it was his most treasured belonging. She let her in her house and invited her to dinner, given the way the girl ate made her wonder if she's being given proper nutrition by her parents. When asked how she found her home, Julissa said that her father inadvertently revealed her address to her during another one of his drunken stupors, saying that she should just go there and not be a bother anymore. Rachel embraced the girl as she broke down to tears from the years of torment she endured.

Presenting Julissa as an evidence, the police had raided her home and arrested her parents on the charges of child abuse as well has handing Rachel the legal custody over Julissa. Immediately after that, she had begun the steps in improving her life: such as enrolling her to another school and helping her spirit recover. Ultimately, she helped her cope with her deafness by teaching her ballet.

The practice had ended a few minutes later and the students have left with their parents. Now Rachel and Julissa found themselves driving towards home.

"Without the usual heavy traffic, we should return home just about half an hour" Rachel said as she maintains a straight path in the highway. "Still, you made the good decision of packing up before we left" Julissa didn't say anything

"Anyway do you want to order take outs in McDonalds? We're just a kilometre away?" Again, her grand-niece said nothing. They had already eaten dinner before the practice and this will only serve as a snack. Given how no car is in front of them, she momentarily turned her head to her grand-niece and tapped her shoulder to gain her attention. "Jules?"

The deaf girl was startled; apparently her hearing aids were turned off while she was about to write on her diary by the time Rachel grabbed her attention. She is now wearing a pink and white striped T-shirt, blue jeans and a pair of black and purple sneakers.

"Huh..." Julissa was clueless for a few seconds before realizing it "Oh!" she then pressed a button on her two hearing aids. "I'm sorry... What were you saying Aunt Rachel?"

Rachel only smiled in understatement. "I said do you want to order take-outs on McDonalds? We're just about a kilometre away?"

"Sure, I'll have some fries and a chicken fillet" those were her favourites; it never gets old no matter how many times she ate those. With her Aunt Rachel's attention back to the road, her focus returned to her diary.

Dear diary. Tomorrow morning would be the start of a new leap in my life. I have auditioned for the popular TV show known as 'Total Drama'; I first became aware of this during one of my sleepovers with my friends when we watched the first episode of the Pahkitew Island season and became captivated ever since, my friends were shocked that I've never heard of this show before and gave me DVDs of the previous seasons. The reason I auditioned is because I think of this as a great way to spend summer and fully experience a life with only your peers around. Hehehehehe, this will surprise my friends because they aren't even aware of this.

---

"It's done Mr. Smith"

Will Smith was disturbed from his tranquil musings as he sat on the couch, his gaze moved from the magazine on his hand to the person before him. The renowned actor was resting on his private jet which is scheduled to make flight to Ireland where he and his family would take vacation; his wife is already on their room while Jaden and Willow were on theirs.

The person before him is a young man. He wears an unzipped dark blue denim jacket showing a white shirt underneath along with black trousers and all-black converse shoes. On his face, he could see the light freckles beneath his light blue eyes and a light brown hair has been combed neatly and tidy. Will had sent the man to go pick some of the luggage that was carelessly left behind by his children; it was a good thing that the plane hasn't left yet.

"I'm thankful for your assistance" he smiled at the person. The young man had changed from his immaculate attire to his regular apparel by the time he had asked him to pick the luggage. Of course, the actor knew of his participation in the upcoming Total Drama tomorrow. "But I have to ask man, why TD?"

The young man scratched the back of his head, obviously nervous of revealing this kind of reason. "Well... I'm just tired of being treated as a ghost despite all the things I do. Of course, save for a few people like you Mr. Smith"

Will Smith nodded in understatement. The young man before him is works as an assistant of many celebrities like him and is very attentive to their needs, always there when in need of help. Unfortunately, they never give him any acknowledgement for his actions and even fail to recognize him by appearance or even name unless he or someone else makes them.

"Well then, all I can say is just good luck... Aaron"

The young man's eyes slightly widened in disbelief, his name has been forgotten again. "It's Abel sir. Abel Payton"

---

The concert is ripe with the jubilant cheers of the many people occupying the area. The bright colour of cerulean has established a dominant presence around the area as it is what kept it from being submerged in absolute darkness, from the stage lighting that danced gracefully around the area to the glow from the smart-clothing worn by the attendees in a diversity of patterns.

The atmosphere was thick with excitement for the past minutes. Everyone came here for the performance of a popular teen popstar.

The stage lighting ceased to exist; leaving the bright glow from the concert-goers clothes the only source of light. The roaring cheers dimmed for only a few seconds before returning in an even greater intensity than before as a new phenomenon occurs.

A dark figure had seemingly materialized on the centre of the stage, her body only seen by the cerulean glow on her clothes.

"Hey everyone" greeted the figure in a composed manner before a spotlight above finally revealed her appearance.

The crowd went even wilder in recognition. The girl wore peculiar clothing bearing only the colours of black and cerulean; a black corset bodice with cerulean strips and a medium-length cerulean ribbon at the back of her waist. Her arms were covered by black detached sleeves and fingerless gloves; the former bears a cerulean circuitry design while the latter has a cerulean star at the back of the hand. For her lower body, she wore a cerulean-coloured black-trimmed miniskirt and fish-net stockings. Black over-the-knee leather boots with the same cerulean circuitry theme as her detached sleeves. Latched on her left ear is an earphone with a microphone protruding down near her mouth, serving to amplify her voice.

The same goes for her appearance which was heavy with makeup. She has a skin that she that appeared as white as the moon of the night sky and her hair are dyed in cerulean and so are her fingernails and lips. Lastly, her beautiful aquamarine eyes are defined by black eyeliner.

The cerulean colours of her clothing are glowing their beautiful shade, enlightening the small area around her in a beautiful illumination. In keeping with her cyberpunk theme, her outfit is built from E-textiles that permit the cerulean parts to glow automatically in dark or even at her consent.

And even with the light above, the glow can still be seen.

On her arms is a Gibson Explorer-model electric guitar, its black colour scheme and glowing cerulean circuit-based design making it a reflection of its owner. Beside the bridge is a circular equalizer with the bars glowing in cerulean as well as built-in circular speaker beneath the bridge, modifications of her own.

"ONTARIO, CANADA...!" the girl screamed at the top of her lungs. "... ARE YOU READY TO ROCK!?"

This served to only intensify the screams.

"ELEC-TRO-NI-CA! ELEC-TRO-NI-CA! ELEC-TRO-NI-CA!"

"AM-BER! AM-BER! AM-BER!"

She is identified by these two names; Amber Mclean as she was born and Electronica as she stepped into fame. But she let anyone call her either; it doesn't bother whatever people prefer.

"SO AM I!" Amber let out a brief chuckle. The other instruments behind her are already being manned by their players. "But before we begin, I just want to say thank you all coming here in this concert" she began in a soft tone. "I really appreciate it because... This will be my last for a few months"

All in a sudden, the concert has descended into silence – absolutely impossible silence. From her position, Amber could see the concerned looks on her fans as they murmur upon one another. It was public knowledge that she had being doing concerts non-stop after her rise to fame, so she suspects that they are thinking that she'll take an extended leave or even retire.

"The reason is because... Well, if you have heard of the show called Total Drama, You'll know why"

Amber watched as their concerned faces turned into wide-eyed disbelieving expressions of amazement, she could already hear the phrases 'No way' and 'Oh my god' around the concert.

"That's right" she confirmed. "I'll be gone because I have auditioned for the show"

The crowd went wild once more over the announcement. The news of Total Drama's return is well anticipated by everyone given its popularity, even at the face of the myriad of controversies such as the endangerment of the participants' lives. What's more is that its public knowledge of Chris Mclean being her father.

"So before I leave, let me present you one last song..." the stage lighting return, dancing wildly around the concert once more. "Let's light this concert up"

The spotlight died and the crowd screamed once again as the band began to play. After letting the song to play in instrumental for a few moments she began to sing.

Let's light it up!

Amber starts to play her guitar.

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up,

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes

Amber stopped singing and allowed the piano to play its part for a few seconds before returning with the next verse.

Something 'bout the night is magic I can't explain
Everytime the sun goes down feel everything cha-ange,
Feel my body buzzin',
Feel my temperature reach,
Every night's a brand new page,

Yaaa!
Let's light it up!

Let's light it up!
Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes

Let's light it up!
Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes

The popstar stopped once again to let the piano play as she tap her boots on the beat.

I~ feel you next to me,
Lost in a dream,
I~ feel you hol~ding me,
My head is spin~ning,
It's spin~ning,

It's spin~,
It's spin~,

YEAH!

Amber began playing her guitar wildly as she began hoping around the stage in a manner similar to AJ Lee's entrance before her retirement, much to the further delight of the fans.

Let's light it up!

Light it up, Light it up!

Let's light it up!
Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes

Let's light it up!
Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes

Let's light it up!
Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes

Let's light it up!
Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight
Let's light it up,
Like shooting stars are burning light up the sky,
Let's light it up

Light it up, Light it up
Light it tonight,
Let's light it up
Like the night,
Like the diamonds,
Shine in your eyes.

Amber ended the song with a loud rev on her guitar. The crowd let out a last loud cheer at the performance of their favourite popstar.

0000000000

An hour has passed; the attendees had completely deserted the area a few minutes after the concert's official end. Amber, with her cerulean glow turned off, went to the parking lot, her guitar and luggage on her hands, where she met Chef Hatchet beside the limousine he has been driving for the entire day.

"Uncle Chef" Amber hugged the hulking military man with a joyful smile, something that is also embedded on the man's face. "I'm so glad to see you"

"Same here baby girl, it's been months" Chef empathized in a soft tone, quite unnatural for his harsh persona. He hasn't heard of Amber ever since her debut. "Why don't you hop on the limo? I'll load your stuff for you"

Amber nodded in compliance as she entered the parked limousine beside them, she felt her eyes widen in amazement at how luxurious the interior is. An L-shaped sofa spanned from the back of the limousine, an assortment of drinks and snacks occupied the other side, a small flatscreen TV situated on the partition beside the open window to the driver's seat.

So luxurious that Amber couldn't let a whistle remain in her mouth. "Wow!" She said as she entered and sat on the sofa before helping herself with a soda and some chips. Chef Hatchet walked into the driver's seat and it took a moment for the car to start before it drove away to the road.

"I wasn't expectin' you to audition for TD" Chef said, trying to start a conversation from the partition's window.

"I guess daddy told you" Amber calmly spoke the only logical conclusion as she took a bite of another chip. "Did he also tell you about-"

"Trent – your boyfriend. Of course, he did. He told me what made you join after all" Chef Hatchet took a moment to look Amber and saw the slight concern on her face. "Before you even ask, I'm fine with it baby-girl, unlike your Dad"

"Yeaaah" the popstar drawled dryly. "He still thinks that Trent has that nine-addiction"

The two occupants were startled when a sound blared out. Amber was quick to recognize it.

"Isn't that Total Drama's intro... in instrumental" she pointed out before knowing that it's emanating from the driver's seat.

"My ringtone, it's your dad calling" he said as he grabbed the phone before putting it beside his ear.

"What is it Chris" Chef's voice was intoned with indignation as he furrowed his eyebrows into a frown, rightfully justified by the host made him do for the entire day.

"Got some news from the Producers. But first I like to talk to my daughter" it was Chris Mclean himself who made the schedule of who to pick up, marking those living nearest to be fetched first while thus furthest later. There were those living in the same proximity but the host adamantly made him pick only one at a time, much to his frustration. What's even more frustrating is that he wasn't given any information regarding them such as names and appearances save for that pacified scioness from the afternoon and Amber.

With a sigh, he complied with his wish. "Amber, your dad wants to speak to you" he reached out the phone out of the window and the popstar approached him from the back.

"Hey dad" Amber greeted with a lively smile as she placed the phone on her ear.

"How's concert sweetie?"

"The usual" she grinned as she laid her back on the cushion. "It's great, loud and awesome"

"I hope you haven't eaten dinner yet. I prepared dinner for both of us, made it myself you know"

"Awww... that's sweet thanks dad" Amber remarked. She was about to say her goodbyes when a suggestion came to her mind. "Hey dad, Trent's already there right. Can I invite him to dinner?"

Silence came from the phone for a few seconds before Chris' voice returned, but this time it's no longer possesses the soft tone. "No." Came his now sharp voice, tinted with disapproval.

"Oh come on!" the popstar pouted as she threw her free hand in the air, a small frown etched on her beautiful face. "He's not crazy anymore with the nine-thing like you think."

"I'm very sorry sweetie, but I'm not taking any chances with that guy around; maybe he'll insist in eating nine dishes or even try to finish his meal in just nine minutes"

Amber groaned in displeasure over not being able to invite her boyfriend, but just conceded with her father's wish as she knew him for his persistence. "Here you go uncle" She returned the phone back to Chef before walking back to her previous seat and finishing her snacks.

Chef just went straight to the point. "So... what's the big news Chris man?"

"Well..." the host drawled playfully. "I got some good news and some bad news, which would you like to hear first?"

Chef only made an eye-roll. "The bad one, what else?" It was the usual choice on questions such as these.

"The Producers have mistaken the address of last contestant you'll pick. The guy actually lives in Ohio, USA. You need to cross the border and fetch him up"

"What!" a shocked Chef Hatchet shouted in a whisper, not wanting to startle Amber. "Are they even serious?! Going there would take me a couple of hours, not to mention I have to get five others before-"

"The good news is..." Chris cuts his co-host's rambling. "... The other five before him is now off your list, they insisted on going to Eden Island themselves."

"Why is that?" It was something Chef himself found odd, having never come across incidents such as these.

"I dunno man" Chris admitted. "I asked the Producers myself and the way they said the reason is quite ominous, apparently they were contacted by one of them"

Silence came from the phone for a few moments before the host finally spoke.

"They said those five have some... business to attend to"

---

The Fairbanks city of Alaska has become a warzone. The very cold air around the town was unable to stem the flames that have consumed most of its infrastructure even with all its might. The scale of destruction induced is comparable to that of the war-torn cities as dark smoke from the city now tainted the once pure night sky. Corpses of both combatants and innocents littered the streets bearing the injuries that caused their death, their blood tainting the ground beneath them. The military on the city was no match for those that attacked.

It is now a hellscape.

The battle had long since ended in the enemy force's favour, now they're just cleaning whatever pockets of resistance that remained.

"You're all that's left?"

In contrast to his calm tone, Sergeant Philip Washington felt a growing sense of dread in his heart as he laid his eyes upon the man before him. The middle-aged soldier is part of the company that had been tasked to protect this Downtown of the city along with these men before him. Unfortunately, this place has long since been overrun by the enemy forces and patrols are sweeping every inch of the area for survivors. Now here he is in an alleyway with two of his most trusted soldiers, they were searching for any survivors be they a combatant or civilian when they stumbled upon this young man.

From the start, the entire battle was woefully one-sided in the attackers favour.

The attack is a blitz in nature, capitalizing on the element of surprise which decimated most of their forces before they can even respond. Whoever is leading the attack possesses a tactical mind given how both their long-range communications and the city's power grid has been disabled, ensuring that they are deprived of any reinforcements and knowledge of this attack will only be known by the time it's finished.

"What happened?" Philip asked in a tone of utmost seriousness. This man, a private as indicated by his rank, is part of a platoon he had sent to exfiltrate the city in order to inform anyone outside of what happened.

"W-W-We were ambushed by that sniper on the way, I'm the only one that managed to escape" the young man stuttered, clearly shaken by the bloodshed he had witnessed.

Philip grits his teeth in irritation. The sniper in question has become a bane to them ever since the start of the battle, intercepting every offensive and even killing the leadership of the entire company to the point that it left him the highest ranking officer left, thus prompting him to take command of the decimated group. This sniper is very dangerous given how three squads he dispatched separately in the past were decimated by him just some seconds after one was dealt with, leaving a few survivors to return and spread word of his apparent omnipresence.

"Sir... " Philip turned to face on of the soldiers that accompanied him in his search and saw that worried expression on his face. "... What now?

Before Philip could even utter a word, all of their radios fizzled to life. A glimmer of hope shone in his eyes for only a moment before it became hollow.

"Targets sighted"

A mere second after hearing that voice from their radios, a small hole appeared on the sergeant's forehead before he even knew it. The sheer force sent his body to the cold floor of the alleyway. His comrades meet the same fate. They quickly turned around to face the assailant and raised their rifles to fire, but they were killed in the same manner.

"Targets eliminated"

Above a nearby rooftop, the sniper lowered his weapon. He bore a calm expression that contradicts the chaos plaguing the city as he stood from his crouched position, the gentle wind touching his pitch-black hair and fair skin. His eyes admired the bloodshed he had caused behind the cover of his glasses, protecting it from any ember that can potentially come too close.

Superficially, his glasses can be dismissed as something ordinary... But on a closer examination, it would say otherwise. The transparent glasses are basically miniaturized military-grade tactical displays displaying real-time information in the form of white diagrams. Beneath the black frame is a highly-sophisticated circuitry that is designed to translate the electrical impulses of his brain as a computational input, given how it's sticking on his head because of its curved design. In his left ear is an ear piece he uses to receive orders and even intercept communications. It was through this that he had known the positions of his targets.

He could thank a glowing-haired genius for this marvel.

His apparel alone radiates an aura of militarism, It is as black as his hair save for the glasses and vest he wore, both which are on the colour of scarlet.

(AN: The outfit is exactly Adam Jensen suit in the game Hitman, along with the glasses.)

The sniper gently presses the button on his earpiece.

"All platoons. Status report"

It was about half an hour when he demanded such. Back then, there were a lot of contacts and KIAs. Perhaps this time will make a difference.

"Platoon 01. Nero Tiberius"

Nero Tiberius – their own code word for the absence of any enemies.

"Platoon 02. Nero Tiberius"

"Platoon 03. Nero Tiberius"

"Platoon 04. Ne-"

Out of the sudden gunfire sounded over the transmission, but even this unexpected commotion failed to rob him of his emotionless expression.

"CONTACT!"

The sniper then heard the distinct weapons fire of his soldiers.

"Sir! Are we moving in to assist?"

"No" came the sniper's flat voice, the absence of emotion also evident on his tone. "Stand down and let them deal with the problem"

The firefight lasted only for a few seconds as gunfire died down.

"Tiberiuses neutralized. Augustus Cicero and No KIAs"

"Understood. All platoons are to continue sweep until the operation is declared over, scour every road and building for survivors"

Leaving the area, Hiro Yamamoto turned back and sprinted forward at an inhuman speed and by the time he had reached the ledge, he jumped at an impressive length towards the rooftop of the building before him.

0000000000

He ran.

That was all that Officer Barton could do for the past 15 minutes. He and his fellow police officers were evacuating the civilians here in the North Pole suburbs with the help of a detachment of soldiers, having armed themselves with automatic weaponry given the firepower the invaders are packing. The civilians were being loaded aboard four APCs in order to guarantee their survival if they ever come across of the invaders, leaving them exposed throughout the trip would be a great liability. With them is an M1 Abrams tank, just enough for them to feel safety around the area.

Only for the enemy force to appear and attack, bringing a tank of their own. While certainly smaller and having less firepower, it managed to best the Abrams with its one-of-a-kind nimbleness and quick cannon-fire. The parked APCs immediately tried to leave the area and failed in doing so, the tank redirected its attention and shot their tires, bringing two to a grinding halt. One managed to escape its range only to be rammed upside-down by another tank from the alleyway it was in the middle of passing. Like furious hornets, the civilians crawled out of their downed vehicles with reckless abandon only to drop like flies as the invaders gunned them down.

This action and the fact that those that laid-down their arms were gunned-down without a second thought, confirmed his worst fear that the enemy force is bent on leaving no one alive to tell what happened. It was fortunate that he heavily insisted his wife and daughter to take a vacation on Hollywood, given how his wife is a workaholic in her job as a manager and both of their parents wanting to see their grand-daughter.

They just left yesterday and it would be the last time he will see them.

Now the bloodied officer is all that's left of the failed evacuation along with the soldier running with him. They had escaped since they've been caught in a pincer but were picked off one-by-one over the time. It went to the point that self-preservation overcame their duty to the city and attempted to make way for an escape, only to discover that the enemy has set-up security checkpoints on all roads, attempts to escape the area off-road were made but were repulsed by the squads and UAVs patrolling around the area, forcing them back to the city and be hunted like animals.

"Augh!" he stopped dead to his tracks and turned to see that his fellow escapee fell to the ground, ankle twisted unnaturally. For a moment, he considered leaving him out of self-preservation, but his morality said otherwise.

"Come on..." he said as he pulled the soldier to his feet. "We have to-"

It came out of nowhere; Officer Barton felt something metallic struck his face that hurled him and swore that the force of the impact was enough to crack some bones. He landed on his back a few meters away with a groan before immediately grasping his lower face as his nose and lips began to bleed. The officer let out a brief yet loud groan before hearing what seems to be the crackling noise of electricity.

The volume of the same noise heightened considerably for a moment, concurring with a loud scream sounded over the area and a brief appearance of a red flash of light.

Ignoring the pain, he lifted his head up and saw the soldier he tried to help lying on the ground dead with his head gone, a thick column of grey smoke arising from where it once was. In the head's place is some kind of weapon clearly meant for close-quarters-combat and by the looks of things it has been slammed to the head. By the time he had laid eyes on the wielder, the person rose up and equipped the firearm from his left hip and he felt its laser pointer touch the centre of his head.

His last memory before darkness consumed him was the smiling faces of his wife and daughter.

The hunter lowered his firearm after triggering a burst-fire at the officer's head; boring three separate holes before it fell down to the ground. He was hiding in the second-floor balcony with the intent of ambushing these two and it proved to be a boon that the other had incapacitated himself, leaving him with only one to actually deal with.

A single spinning roundhouse kick to the face from a high-elevation was enough to do the job.

The entirety of his face is covered by a facemask bearing an opaque all-encompassing visor where he perceives the world around him in the colour of ruby-red. But half of the mask is covered by three fang-like bangs of his golden blonde hair. Though this does indeed obstruct his half of his vision, his performance is enough to ward away any criticism.

Like the person before, he wore a similar apparel that emanated militarism – but his is visibly more expressive. Angular black armour plating covered most of his body save for some areas that showed the black bodysuit he wore underneath. The apparel encompassed his entire body to the point that not a single part of the skin is exposed and that his only body part in the open is his golden blonde hair...

Lukas Kliesen watched the heat signature from his latest kill fade away from existence and essentially leaves the body a cold corpse. His facemask is equipped with a specialized visual system he had grown to call Hunter vision. A powerful fusion of sonar and thermal imaging, this allows him the ability to see through walls and highlight people according to their body heat in a large radius, allowing him to point wherever his targets are positioned as long as they're in range.

(AN: Just like the Detective mode in Batman Arkham but with, of course, a red layout instead)

With his target dead, the German placed his firearm back to the magnetic lock on his left hip and turned his attention to the background. What he saw are multiple figures in blue highlights of varying sizes, an indication of their distance from him and from one another; some hiding inside buildings while others are out in the streets. There are also these crimson figures sweeping the surrounding area and gunning down any of the blue figures that they come across.

These are the soldiers he and his associates are in command of.

"There is no escape" he muttered the cruel truth in his lips as he sheathed his other weapon to the rectangular scabbard attached on his left waist. Lukas sprinted forward to his next target as he muttered next what assured the doomed fate of his targets.

"I know... where you are"

000000000

"All clear Sergeant"

Following the report, a group of seven soldiers moved from the alleyway and entered a deserted street, moving in a linear order and their aim moving around for anything that may either be a friend or foe. In the front is a man named Thomas Andrews, distinguished by his visibly older appearance in comparison to his squadmates. They moved past the cars scattered around the street, most of them were turned-over and some were even set ablaze. But what they all have in common are the small and large ruptures on their frame, the corpses of the passengers can be seen inside.

"Let's hurry up people; our destination is only five blocks away, we have to make it in time or else they'll leave us behind"

Their destination is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, where a sizable group of soldiers have holed-up and radioed anyone in a very secure channel that their planning to attack the crippled checkpoint in the Steese highway and escape the city.

Strength in numbers as they say.

"Finally we can get out of this hellhole" muttered one of his men, he was met with nods of agreement.

"But shouldn't we be looking for survivors?" one of them questioned, though it could be interpreted as protest. This guy is the only private in the squad given his visible rank. "There're still people around in the city, and most of them are civilians"

"There's nothing we can do about it now son" Thomas said as he proceeded pacing, not bothering to look at the private's face. "The enemy has complete control over the city and most of us have been killed defending it, now they're sweeping every street and infrastructure for survivors"

"But-" the private's further protest was cut off by a shout.

"CONTACTS"

Gunfire roared as military training kicked in and everyone immediately scampered for the nearest cover available, which were the cars scattered throughout the street. By the time they trained their rifles forward they saw flashes of light coming from the intersection on the other side of the street.

It was then they realized it.

None of them actually said anything. There's a battle taking place nearby.

"Fall back" on cue they saw about three soldiers and two police officers run and take cover behind a toppled van resting in the centre of the road. Bullets flew towards their position as they returned fire from the cover. The police officers are carrying the same rifles as the soldiers have, possibly handed by them to increase the fighting chance and thus, survivability.

Seeing that there are survivors in need of help, Thomas called their attention as he waved his hand "Over here!"

Their heads turned to face them. "Friendlies!" shouted who appeared to be the leader as he turned to the rest. "Go! I'll provide covering fire" he opened fire at the unknown assailant his fellow soldiers and police officers ran towards them, miraculously missing the bullets on the way and taking cover on the car beside them.

"We're heading for the Church" he informed their objective; Introductions would have to be done later given the current situation.

"Same" replied the soldier as he attached a new clip on his rifle. This is something good as by sharing the similar objective, their groups could proceed to the place as one stronger unit.

Seeing that his men has reached safety, the remaining soldier left cover and ran towards them with guns still blazing at whatever assailant he's fighting. But he was not so lucky like his men as a single bullet made its way to his mid-section and sent the unfortunate soldier falling to the ground screaming in agony as he clutched his wound.

"Shit" one of his squadmates muttered in shock as another round of bullets came forward but instead of striking the incapacitated soldier, they went for the rifle he had dropped instead, damaging it beyond use.

Then suddenly, he and the others watched as the soldier ceased groaning as he noticed something approach him from the intersection. The soldier now began to desperately back away from whatever's in front of him using his arms while his legs appear limp. "The shot must've struck his spine" he correctly guessed as the soldier reached his hand forward.

"Please...!" the soldier finally descended into desperation, his face fully contorted in fear. "No-NONON-AAHHHH" he and the area around him are drenched in the carmine-coloured fire that was spewed from the intersection.

"HOLY FUCK!" one of the police officers shouted in horror as the soldier was burned alive in reddish flames. It wasn't long before something emerged out from where the flames were coming from and they were quick to train their weapons at the new threat.

The new threat is appears to be a scientist judging by the lab coat he's wearing. But unlike those usually seen in popular culture, this one is coloured black just like his pants. The coat itself is unbuttoned allowing them to see the carmine-red sleeves underneath and black tie hanging from the collar. This, along with the black shoes and visible red socks he wore, remained unaffected as he walked in the fires towards the suffering soldier.

Visible on his hand is a flamethrower given how he continues to use it to burn the still-living soldier. But it bore a design he has never seen before, in fact he swore that it could be mistaken for a rifle at first glance even though somewhat bulky.

His victim finally perished a few seconds before he reached his burning corpse. Thomas could see how only the charred flesh is all that remained; the fire was powerful enough to burn away the fabrics. The scientist turned his head towards their position in what can be described as an eerily slow manner and showed them the crazed look on his face. Though disturbed at how he looked at them, they observed that while his clothes were bizarre, his facial features are unnatural. His hair is raised upward and is glowing dimly in the colour of orange while his eyes were coated in menacing maniacal purple.

He was unable to ponder further if these traits are indeed unnatural or fake as an enemy APC rolled in from the same intersection the scientist came from, ramming the van the other group had used for cover away. Three soldiers emerged as well, two bearing rifles and the other armed with a flamethrower similar to the one used by the scientist. The APC stopped in the middle of the street and dropped its ramp, disgorging about a dozen soldiers in the area.

"Dammit we're outnumbered" he remarked as the newly deployed soldiers began moving to take positions behind the cars near them while the scientist just remained where he is and continue to give them his crazed expression.

"Making a stand are we?" Julien Rousseau remarked as he watched the group with rising amusement coupled with his crazed stare. His powerful mind suddenly went abuzz over the multiple scenarios that'll play out in this fight such as how long will it take and their positions they'll take further in the fight, the possibilities are just limitless. But pondering over the outcome is unnecessary; Julien already knows that these Americans will lose this fight.

His lips parted to reveal his whitish teeth as he let out a sinister chuckle while something materialized over his left forearm and enveloped it.

His latest invention, a device only someone of his intellect could create. He had the medical robots back at HQ surgically graft an experimental fabric under his skin. Bear in mind that the procedure itself had no anaesthetic as doing so would ruin the fabric's delicate circuits, resulting to excessive amounts of agony as the skin in his left forearm is removed by laser scalpels then enveloped by the fabric. In the immediate aftermath a fluid he had developed was applied over the wound to accelerate tissue growth, decreasing the time of recovery to a matter of seconds as opposed to days.

The fabric uses physical phenomenon of photon entanglement to 'lock' photons together until they are capable of interacting with matter directly, in summary creating what people would call hard-light. Since the device is directly interfaced with his mind, he could modulate the hard light into anything at a mere thought as long as the correct programming is installed, ranging from actual blades or even shields. Power is drawn from the nanoscale capacitors embedded deep in the fabric and can be recharged by contact with sunlight, given how the surface of the fabric is based on solar panels.

(AN: This is the omni-tool from Mass effect, but the hologram is red instead of orange)

"Alright people, let 'em have it!" screamed who appeared to be the leader as the entire group opened fire at their position. Most of his soldiers have immediately reached cover behind the cars as some are shot, though their body armour absorbed the kinetic force and only making the soldiers stumble to the ground due to repeated hits. But alas, such thing is not invulnerable as a majority of the Americans had concentrated their fire on one soldier, straining the armour's durability and actually riddling his body with bullets.

But Julien never bothered to dash for cover like his soldiers and remained where he is even though there are bullets speeding towards him; he held his arm forward in a manner similar to holding a shield...

... Only for his Omni-tool to reconfigure itself into an actual shield that stretches over his entire body in a rectangular shape. Given the transparency, Julien threw a dark mocking chuckle for the group to see. They obviously thought him for a sitting defenceless duck, how utterly pathetic.

Never underestimate any foe – that was the fundamental rule of any battle.

With his safety assured, he began walking forward as his men returned fire. The continuing barrage endured by his shield has drained about 19% of the power, it's not much of a concern but the energy being spent to negate each bullet is quite considerable than he had intended. He had to make some improvements after this operation is over.

One of the police officers went down after taking a shot on the head.

"All forces" Julien presses the earpiece on his ear. "Hold position. I'll deal with this, just pin them down"

As the firefight intensifies, he turned his attention to his flamethrower. Like his omni-tool, this weapon has an in-built computer system that is directly interfaced with his mind, sparing him from conducting physical examinations and adjustments as information is simply relayed to his mind and vice-versa. He had just set the temperatures at its maximum.

"Hiding behind cars are we?" now at sufficient range, he moved his flamethrower out of the shield and aimed at one group of soldiers, the ones that had escaped them earlier.

"Let's see if it can protect you from this"

Flame spewed forth from the barrel and engulfed the entire car, this one is a far-cry as it is a literal hellfire that effortlessly melted the automobile in a matter of moments and completely incinerated those hiding behind. The reaction from the others was to scamper away from their cover lest they meet the same fate, this made them open season for his forces as almost all of them were gunned down immediately and left only three surviving.

As the surviving Americans moved into the next car, he reconfigured his omni-tool into a long sharp blade. Julien charged with reckless abandon towards their position with an insane laugh, bloodlust vanquished the concern for the bullets littering the area. Whilst not as fast as Hiro, his speed is still above average.

He vaulted over a nearby car to reach their position as they redirected their focus to him. He impaled his blade straight into the head as the momentum on his body forced them to the ground. As the others scrambled to get away from such close encounter, he does a horizontal slash on the nearest soldier's mid-section while for the one that is managed to go far; he just dealt with it using his flamethrower.

The remaining soldier fell on his groaning as he clutched his large wound; Julien watched his face meet his as he levelled his flamethrower to him. Recognizing him as the leader from before, he gave an insane chuckle as his manical purplish eyes made contact with his defiant brown.

"Au revoir..."

Without further ado, Julien pulled the trigger.

000000000

Colonel Alex Hudson treaded carefully in an alleyway along with his squad of six soldiers; all of them were but a speck of the brigade that had been tasked to defend Slaterville by the time of the invasion. Neither any of them know whether they were all that's left nor they are others that escaped as the area appeared to be the main battlefront of the invasion, at least in his eyes it seems to be given how intense the battle there was. The enemy easily brute-forced their way in the suburbs of Lemeta, Aurora and Totem Park, razing the houses and other buildings in the hunt for people and in some cases levelling them completely.

He has to admit the enemy force is very well-equipped, packing an arsenal that allowed them to go toe-to-toe with the garrison stationed here and put up a real fight as opposed to insurgency tactics he knew over the course of the USA's global campaign against terror. What's more is that those are something that he or anyone in the local military has never seen or even heard of before, but identifiable due to their pitch-black colour and red lighting.

The soldiers wore full-body armour. Whatever method was employed in its creation made it very durable, it allowed them to withstand high-speed projectiles like their bullets and the discharge only making them slightly stumble. But fortunately it didn't make them invulnerable against their weapons as a few more bullets were enough to put them down, the armour also displays no resistance against explosives and high-calibre guns, making them highly effective. Sadly, this only applied to the grunts when the heavies came in, clad in actual powered armour capable of withstanding those two weapons; heck he had seen one take a hit from an Abram's smoothbore cannon and instead of being turned into a grisly mess like anyone would be in the same position, it merely knocked him a few meters back and simply got back to his feet, though his armour suffered considerable damage. When killed, their corpse disintegrated into a puddle of water, including the armour.

Now there are their armoured vehicles. Aside from the generic APC, it appears that there's only a single type employed given its commonality in the battlefield and the apparent lack of others. Alex was unsure whether these kinds of vehicle is all that they have or the attackers just decided their enough and kept the others in storage. He had assumed early that there are two but he just discovered lately they are just a single version after seeing one transform into another and vice-versa.

And finally their Aerial Drones. Unlike the armoured vehicles, there appears to be only a single type used. It fills the role of a hunter-killer given how it flies over the city and shooting anyone using those two damn guns on the front. He had fought against these things more than once and it proved to be lightly armoured as their rifles can easily put them out of commission in just seconds, but it appears to be programmed to do one final attack upon nearing destruction. He remembered how in one of his fights with these machines, a humvee-mounted 50 cal. was used to do sufficient damage on the drone. Barely able to maintain its hover, it positioned its body to face the humvee before discarding its 'wings' and went full-speed to the vehicle using the thrusters in its rear, destroying it in a kamikaze attack.

Now as he continued his careful pacing with his squad, Alex continued to ponder just who the hell are they fighting! Early he had assumed them to be from another nation like the rest of Command was. The reasoning behind this assumption is that only governments have the capacity of arming their military with these sorts of equipment such as the tanks and drones, both of which are exotic that only first-world and some second-world nations can manufacture them in adequate quality.

But their assumption was disproved after uncovering some things regarding the enemy force. They had briefly managed to access the communications of the enemy force before it was cut, revealing that they are speaking in English – accented and not given the inclusion yet minor usage of several languages as well. This evidence of multinationality alone confirmed that they aren't against some country as they previously concluded – rather, they are fighting against an organization.

The question is – who? And what reason for the attack.

It wasn't long before they finally left the alleyway and entered the street, only to crouch behind the burning taxi cab that crashed on the nearby wall upon seeing three of the enemy soldiers on their right.

He was fortunate that their backs were facing them at least.

Alex raised his head to get a better view at the soldiers. There were at least three of them, two grunts moving around the area where a lot of dead people, combatant and not, littered the street like trash along with some burning cars; it appears that they're examining the corpses by kicking them repeatedly to make sure that none of them are playing dead. Then there's the heavy standing at the centre of the road, though his lower body is the only part armoured as he wore a black form-fitting shirt and a pair of maroon gauntlets. An American soldier can be found raised by his right arm, his neck placed on a vice grip. The unfortunate soldier was high enough for them to see his battered face and gouged right eye, groaning weakly at the agony he's experiencing.

"My god..." one of his men muttered in horror. "What has he done to him?"

Alex just leaned closer and discovered why the soldier isn't struggling to break free – he can't. "His limbs appear to be broken" he noted at how limp his arms and legs are. "That explains why he can't fight"

Deciding that he had let the soldier in his arms live long enough, the heavy twisted his hand and a sickening crack came from the soldier's neck as his head dropped sidewards.

"Bastards" one of his squadmates muttered in disgust as the corpse was dropped rightward to the ground.

"We can take them out. There are only three of them, two grunts and a heavy" Alex rationalized with his squad. They have enough ammo to take out those grunts and two AT4 rocket launchers to deal with the heavy. "Eric, Marcus, take cover behind that car on the other end while Joseph stays here with. Now when I give the signal, Marcus and Joseph will fire their AT4s at the heavy while Eric and I deal with those grunts. Do you copy?"

They all nodded.

"Good. Let's do this"

As dictated, Eric and Marcus walked behind the car silently while Joseph prepares his AT4. Marcus does the same upon reaching the cover while he and Eric aimed their rifles at the moving grunts.

"NOW!"

Columns of fire erupted from the AT4 as its payload sped towards its target in conjunction with a concentrated release of bullets towards the head of two invaders. A brief flash of light engulfed the area as the rockets reached its destination in a resounding bang before the thick cloud smoke took its place.

Alex and his squad left their covers and stood on the empty street to watch their work. There was no need to remain as the nearest threat has been eliminated...

Alex faced his squadmates. "Let's get going we don't want to be left beh-"

... Or so they thought.

In a blur, a spinning object sped towards the neck of Alex Hudson and separated his head from his body.

Shock and horror overwhelmed the squad as their leader's decapitated body fall to the ground. The mysterious object latched on a stop sign, revealing it to be a wide piece of torn metal now covered in the blood of their leader.

"COLONEL!" Eric was the first to scream.

"W-W-What the hell was that!" Joseph screamed as he hastily threw his AT4 and aimed his rifle at where the object came from – the smoke where they took out the invaders. His squadmates did likewise and trained their rifles at it. "We've put them all down. N-No way they can survive that!"

"Do you think that you can finish me off that easily?" came a calm mocking voice from the smoke, as it faded away they saw a silhouette walking towards the. Immediately, they redirected their rifles at their enemy as he finally stepped into the light. "Pathetic"

They never knew it but their mouths fall agape as they recognizing that the person standing before them was the heavy they killed just seconds ago; having recognized him for the same outfit he wore despite seeing only his back. But now here he is, standing with them face-to-face surprisingly intact. His expression undaunted at the sight of their weapons trained at him given how his teal eyes showed no fear and instead casted dry amusement at their efforts, the onrushing wind gently waving his shoulder-length black hair behind.

"W-What the- Your supposed to be dead. We blasted you" Marcus shouted, disbelief evident in his eyes.

Something he shared with his squad as their enemy just gave an amused smirk as he resumed walking forward.

"FIRE!" At Eric's command, all three of them pulled the trigger to avenge their Colonel's death. Only to conjure more disbelief since their target didn't bother to evade as his body remained unscathed at the hail of bullets that just bounced away from him.

Even after unleashing every ammunition stored in their clip, not a single scratch was made in his body. Even his clothes showed on tears in their fabric.

"You finished?" he raised an eyebrow towards the stupefied and gawking squad as he flexed his arms, his smirk parted to now include his white teeth. "My turn"

The heavy dashed forward and delivered a right hook on Eric's face powerful enough to send him back crashing to a van with a broken jaw. The remaining soldiers scrambled away from his but Joseph was too slow and was put into a chokehold by his left hand before throwing him face-first then stomping it to further crush his head into a flattened mess. It was this point where Marcus has finally attached a new clip into his rifle and began firing in a vain attempt to kill this man, only for the man to dash towards him then lifting him up. The unfortunate soldier let out a loud scream as his spine is smashed to the heavy's steel-hard knee with a sickening crack before being thrown to the ground a few meters away from Eric's motionless form.

The heavy began walking forward to the still-living soldiers, the stomp of his black combat boots resounding over the area as seconds became minutes for the incapacitated victims. Marcus managed to pull his body around to face him with a pistol in futile defiance; he returned the gesture by smashing his boot on his chest, literally crushing his heart and turning his mouth into a fountain of blood.

He stopped before the form of Eric and took several moments observing him. It appears that the American had perished by the time of the impact and given by the position of his neck, it would seem that his punch had also broken his neck.

"Enjoyed your fight Elias?"

Upon hearing his name, heavy turned his head to the source of that voice and saw a silhouette standing on the rooftop of a nearby building, outlined by the moon behind him.

Yet even in the darkness of his figure he could see the crimson-red eyes peering down to him.

"Honestly, it wasn't even a challenge" Elias Acosta voiced his thoughts as he pulls out a box of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one on a nearby burning car. "The entire thing is one-sided to my favour by the time it started"

"Indeed..." the silhouette voiced his agreement, even at the distance he could discern his voice with clarity. "... A small-scale representation in comparison to the entire operation we undertook on this city – The Americans trying to ward the insurmountable. Even after what they've all seen, they still failed to realize that resistance... is futile"

Elias picked his cigarette before blowing a smoke. "It's human nature, a cornered mouse will fight back with everything they have. All of us humans know this" he finished his explanation as he fiddled with his cigarette.

"A fair point" The silhouette admitted before moving on to the purpose of his visit. "I'm aware that you know of the situation developing in Sector Z-38"

The heavily-muscled man gave a small nod. About a minute and a half ago, he had received reports that a large grouping of American soldiers had holed up in Sector Z-38, locally known as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was Hiro himself who had done the report, having used the drones to relay visual information of the area.

He already knew why such amount of force concentrated there thanks to Hiro intercepting their communications. They're planning to brute-force their way to the checkpoint situated on the Steese highway. It makes sense since it was still reeling from the attack by a separate group of soldiers, having annihilated them at the price of losing a third of their overall force and their only Knightcruiser tank after a concentrated fire by three Abrams.

"Yes I am" He confessed as he extinguished his cigarette on the dead soldier's forehead. "Want me to call the cavalry and deal with them now?"

"No" the Spaniard felt his eyebrow arch at the answer he received. "Instead, have the checkpoint destroyed to draw those soldiers out and lower their guard. I'll handle this rubbish on my own. In the meantime, rendezvous in Ground Zero and await me there. The others are already inbound."

With that, the figure disappeared in a pitch-black smoke that covered a small part of the moon from Elias' view. Not bothering from such, he pressed the button on his earpiece.

"Checkpoint 01, initiate Protocol Epsilon"

0000000000000

"Sir, you need to see this"

Major General Jonathan Lasky was yanked away from his internal contemplations by the voice of one of his adjutant. He lay seated on a small couch inside a second floor room that they transformed into their makeshift command centre over the past half-hour, much like how they transformed this church into a fortress – to serve as either their staging ground to escape the city...

... Or the place of their final stand.

About half a hundred survivors had converged in their bastion after the radio broadcast, most being civilians either his surviving soldiers had escorted with them or arrived armed with weapons they obtained from fallen soldiers. Curiously, none brought any weapon belonging to the invaders even with their abundance on all-over the city. They soon found the reason through the helmet-cam of one of the scouts; the moment the rifle was touched it... evaporated right before their eyes. This phenomenon doesn't seem to be limited on the weapons as any wreckage of the few invader vehicles they've brought down were subjected to it as well after some time.

This fact further validated their universal conclusion that this attack on the city is definitely a 'clean sweep' operation, as any and all vestiges of what happened will be erased along with everyone on Fairbanks.

Unknown to all even to his fellow officers, Jonathan thinks that he knows the possible reason why this is all happening.

It had been a week ago during his stay in the Pentagon at the president's attendance; he had been eavesdropping a secret meeting between the President of the United States and the high echelons of the military about these about some kind of secret project called 'DOMINION' in an undeniably serious and grim tone, telling them that it had to be stopped at all cost. Also included in the discussion is this World Order, an Illuminati-like organization that controls the entire world and their enforcers which carry out their will, the latter he could assume to be the one they're fighting.

A normal person would scoff at these seemingly outrageous speculations but given how these are coming from the very mouth of the President, the most powerful man in the world, it's substantiate enough to be held true without a single shred of doubt. This World Order definitely has the resources to fund the sorts of technology their enemy is using.

He walked towards his adjutants as they've gathered around something on the table. The military-grade laptop is connected to the headcam of the scout that had been observing the checkpoint in the Steese highway while hidden in the nearby forest, allowing them to monitor the checkpoint for any developments.

"Sirs are you seeing this?" Even from afar, the footage showed them exactly what just transpired in the checkpoint.

"What happened?!" Jonathan asked in a tone befitting an officer. In the past minutes when he checked it, the checkpoint was at a state of ruination; two of the half towers were a mangled wreck from the cannon fire of Abrams and about half of the soldiers stationed in there perished along with the destruction of their MBT.

Now, the entire thing is basically on fire.

"I dunno sir, everything's normal a second ago then the damn place just exploded to kingdom come!"

Confusion was quick to flood his mind as to why this happened. The only logical explanation would be some has successfully infiltrated the checkpoint and planted some explosives, but the presence of drones and cameras covering each section of the checkpoint averted this. But as much as he would like to ponder further, this is an opportunity they couldn't allow to go to waste.

He turned to his adjutants. "Have everyone prepped and armed, we're leaving now" he returned his attention at the screen as they left the room for downstairs where most of the surviving soldiers are staying. "In the meantime sergeant, hold your position and continue surveillance"

"Yes sir"

With that he turned his gaze fell to the remaining occupant on the room aside from him. "Evans, radar status."

The soldier manning the Radar computer adjusted his glasses as he remained fixed towards the screen. "Just the six objects we've detected a few minutes ago, they remain static just like befo- Wait! They just begun moving now but... the movement is outward"

If the previous development had confused him, this did even more. The obvious course of action would be mobilizing towards the checkpoint and immediately secure the area. But instead they are moving away from it, at top-speed as it appeared in the radar.

"Perhaps they're responding to a greater priority... No, that's impossible. Their utmost goal is to exterminate everyone in the city, ignoring us would be a ludicrous action" as his train of thought progressed he walked over to the window and saw everyone assembled outside, already manning the vehicles they have left. In the parking lot, he watched as civilians are being loaded aboard the APCs whereas his men went to the humvees and inspected their weapons.

"Unless..." His eyes widened in dreadful realization. The explosion that destroyed the checkpoint was not accidental, it was intentional – the enemy is expecting them to take the bait and try to escape now that the barrier is gone, and then ambush the unsuspecting convoy.

Of course, as the remaining highest-ranking official in the city he wouldn't let himself fall for such thing.

He deftly activated the radio strapped on his left shoulder. "Abort mission! I repeat, abort mission!"

Though surprised by the sudden change of plans, his men obeyed dutifully. "All units abort. Cease operation" he had expected military discipline to have faded long ago, but it seems that it's otherwise. He watched as all activity outside came to an orderly halt, yet confusion was abounding in their faces. There was a brief course of murmurs amongst the remaining soldiers before someone finally asked him. "Sir, permission to ask on behalf of everyone, why are we aborting the mission?"

"We're going according to the enemy's plan; they themselves rigged that checkpoint to blow and they're expecting us to take the bait" he liberated the radio from his hand then walked deftly towards the laptop where the scout still remained from his position as instructed. "Sergeant, you are to fall back at top-speed, pronto!"

"Yes sir!" Jonathan watched as the camera shuddered as the sergeant pulled himself from the ground. As he turned around however, he gasped at what he came face to face with something. Before him stands a silhouette that he wasn't even aware of its presence beforehand, the only thing inside save for the darkness was the two glowing crimson orbs peering at him.

"Oh shit!" that curse would be the final time Jonathan ever heard of the man as the screen immediately cuts into static.

"Sergeant!" Jonathan screamed in an attempt to reach out towards the lone soldier, the lack of response prompted him to activate his radio instead. "Sergeant Nelson, come in over!"

Someone immediately replied, though it was one of his adjutants. "Sir what happened?"

"I lost contact with Sergeant Nelson, the connection was suddenly cut. But before everything went dark, he saw-"

Even though his explanation was about to reach its conclusion, it was brought to an abrupt end as a loud scream erupted from their radios. The wail at such volume startled them and instilled the feeling of dread was felt by everyone as the radios use a public channel, moreso when they recognized the voice to belong to the hapless sergeant.

The agonized emanation lasted in a brief span of time before silence is all that came, but it delivered a demoralizing blow to their spirits.

The heavy silence came to an end as Evans made another report. "Sir, I'm detecting multiple objects closing fast-"

He sprang towards the window just in time to see the said objects plummet on the pavement below in a sickening crack before scattering all over the area for all to see, it wasn't long before horrified screams erupted from the civilians whereas he and his men were left petrified upon recognition.

It was the corpse of Sergeant Nelson, having recognized him when his head fell on the headlights of a humvee. The corpse had been dismembered into several pieces, the flesh where it had been cut appear to be charred and still appear to be smoking. Whatever was used to cut the unfortunate man into pieces is surely hot.

The radio frizzled into existence once again and a dark voice came. "Salvation... is an illusion"

Hearing objects being dropped inside the room; he turned around and saw several fragmentation grenades lying all over the floor, his eyes widened upon noticing the pins are missing.

"Oh FUCK!" Knowing what will happen in a few seconds, he dived towards the window in a force enough to shatter the glass with a similarly frantic Evans in his tail. Unfortunately, the man was positioned too far from the window to escape on time as the grenades detonated and destroyed the room while he plummeted to the pavement below, his head miraculously remaining intact from the fall.

The civilians just did nothing but scream in fright.

"Major General!" screamed one of his adjutants as they ran forward and helped him to his feet. "What happened sir?"

Jonathan opened his mouth to explain the events as he was pulled from the ground by the arms of his men, but before a single word could even leave the radio fizzled once again.

"Face... forward... Major General"

The speech was deliberately drawled to make it sound ominous. It is plain obvious that this is a simple employment of psychological warfare in order to impart uneasiness in their hearts. Nevertheless he complied with everyone following his gaze.

Together they beheld the sight of a figure walking towards them across the two streets before the Church, not even a single of the many burning cars that littered the streets obscuring any part of his form; each step he took forward was done with utmost confidence and a lack of fear while he held his hands behind him.

In an instant, he recognized the figure as the silhouette the sergeant had stumbled upon before his headcam went static. Though the darkness back then shrouded his entire figure from view, his entire appearance can now laid bare due to the flames from the burning cars on the streets between them.

He wore a black trench coat that is left unzipped, hanging loosely instead of clasping it and showing the similarly coloured shirt underneath. Plastered on the shirt is the crimson symbol of some kind of butterfly, whose appearance made its existence debatable. Occupying his legs and feet are trousers and a pair of formal shoes, both in the colour of black with the sole exception of the barely visible crimson-red socks.

Even though his head is covered by the hood attached to the trench coat, Jonathan could see the pitch-black hair that covered his forehead and the crimson-red eyes that weren't glowing like before.

Due to the black and red colour scheme of his apparel, his men were quick to direct their weapons at him. Those were the colours that identified the invaders; therefore they were quick to assume that this person is affiliated with them.

Though what is perturbing is that this man is not completely devoid of any weaponry, nor even anything hidden since his trained eyes could see no bulges in the trench. Even if he had one on his back it would be small and effective only at a manageable number of enemies, but facing an entire platoon-worth of soldiers if downright suicidal if that's the case.

"Hands in the air, now!" He ordered as he left the arms of his adjutants and walked forward. "We have you outnumbered and outgunned!"

Damian Balor simply watched this with a sense of amusement as he proceeded with his relaxed stroll. The Major General's threat and the gesture before yielded nothing but failure as they failed to impart the feeling of intimidation in him, not even a bit. Knowing that things are escalating fast given his refusal to concede, it's now best to assume a geared stance. Which simply took the force He removed his hands from his back and let them hang loosely, showing them dressed in black gloves that bore the same red butterfly design on his shirt.

He watched as the Major General activates his radio to relay some order to his troops. In hindsight, such act is foolish given how he has access to their communications channel on his earpiece; though he could see the logic that whatever action does not matter as long as they gave him the message.

"Melvin, fire a warning shot"

His gaze fell to a soldier positioned on a humvee far from the Major-General as he pressed his eye inside the scope of his rifle. It's quite obvious that this man is a designated marksman given his use of a rifle with such calibre. The soldier was quick to comply and fired a single round that actually grazed the right side of his hood. Put anyone else in this position and they would surely flinch at such proximity regardless of the fact that it was intended to be a warning shot. But he didn't, remaining unfazed and continuing forward. But he was impressed at the skill shown by this marksman, definitely befitting his designation.

How unfortunate that he had to kill him with the rest.

"This is your last chance; else I'll have my men apprehend you by force!" the Major General barked once more for him to yield. This time, he decided to entertain him by conceding to his demand and stopped beside a nearby car, a taxi to be specific, came within in arm's reach on the left-side, distanced only about a few inches away from him.

But surrender is not his intent even if that's what they think.

Since they gave him a show of force, it was only justified for him to return the favour. Damian let his fingertips touch the smooth surface of the car's hood as his eyes regained its crimson glow. He watched the disbelieving expressions of the assembled soldiers had as he reduced the taxi into a molten slag from where he touched it while the activation of his powers set red fire on the ground beneath his feet.

The show of force didn't end there as Damian made them watch in further disbelief over what he demonstrated next.

Damian balled his hands into a fist as he concentrated his power on the surrounding vehicles, then made a gesture of slowly raising his hands as all cars are simultaneously lifted in the air a few meters from the ground.

"What..." even at the distance he could hear the Major-General mutter in morbid fascination at the demonstration. "... In the name of-?"

With a single flick of his hands forward, all levitating cars were hurled towards the soldiers. Panic and disarray consumed the group as they attempted to avoid the oncoming projectiles that crashed on unfortunate Americans and toppled some of the stationary humvees; one of the hurled cars even exploded after crashing on a group of soldiers and sending those nearby flying.

The unexpected development surprised everyone as according to generalized expectations and pulled the trigger of their weapons without a second thought. As the firing mode has been set to full-auto long since the start of the invasion, a hail of bullets are spewed forth as opposed to a batch-by-batch few.

But to him, all of their amounted firepower was nothing but an outright nuisance. His mind projects an invisible field that envelops his body and flash-disintegrates any projectile that comes in contact.

Damian spanned his arms sidewards as his hands were engulfed in crimson flames, arising from them one-by-one are flaming objects in the shape of the butterfly etched on his shirt and gloves. Totalling to several dozens, they circled him in a manner to anything caught by a typhoon. At his will, they all flew up to the night sky at breakneck speed before divebombing the position of the soldiers. Chaos and disorder broke among their ranks as they were obliterated by the bombardment along with the Church, as each butterfly is as powerful as an RPG rocket.

Less than a half of a minute. It was all that it took to finish the fight – yet another decisive victory for the Black Round Table.

Even with the resulting thick cloud of smoke that engulfed the area, his eyes easily peered through with his powers. The once mighty and resolute soldiers of the United States of America have now been reduced to nothing but mangled corpses, either disremembered or just blown apart wholly. But he was surprised to find that some miraculously survived though they are left groaning in pain over their miserable state, having their limbs blasted apart or completely bisected.

He then watched as the six APCs carrying the civilians speed away in all directions in an attempt to escape the battle. He had purposely spared them from the onslaught for him to... dispatch with different methods.

Crimson electricity sparked on his hands as he lashed two bolts of lightning at the nearest APC in his reach, arching towards another and destroying them both. After that, Damian outstretched his hand at another APC and concentrated his power at it, making the vehicle combust into flames and roasting everyone inside. He did the same to another one but instead of setting it ablaze, he suspends it in the air momentarily before crushing with a closure of his hand. Two remaining APCs, who had reached the road leading to the destroyed outpost and driving side-by-side, were delivered to an abrupt halt when he induced a collision between them with a force that was enough to cause an explosion using just another gesture of his hand.

Having dealt with the escapees, Damian made the smoke vanish by telekinetically causing a rapid expansion that dissipated it in a short amount of time before he teleported to the centre of the area through a black smoke.

Crimson-coloured flames engulfed his hands once again before sprouting downward where instead of dancing wildly like it's supposed to be, some force appear to condense it into a long-triangular shape and creating a pair of what can only be described as energy swords.

One-by-one he walked towards the groaning survivors and ended their lives either by a stab or a slash. He repeated this procedure over and over again until all that was left was the Major-General, who has been displaced beside the wreckage of a humvee. The man had been left bisected to his waist and his very innards splattered on the ground

With great difficulty, Jonathan raised his head to gaze at the man looming before him. "Why...?" as he had found that moving his head alone proved to be difficult, so was speaking as it's draining whatever was left of his diminishing strength. "... Why do... all this..." his voice carried the tone of both begging and demanding over the fate that had fallen to him, his men and the city.

Since this man is nearing his last moments here in this mortal plane of existence, he decided to entertain him. "Your government was planning to raise their hands against the Order, so they saw it fit to send us and deliver a message that will discourage them from proceeding."

Jonathan's eyes widened in realization. "A... show of force... that's what all of this was about" the remaining soldier in the city watched as the person before him nod in confirmation.

"But do not feel despondent..." The man continued as he deactivated his blades and dropped to a knee, bringing his eyes to level with that of his. Even in his last moments, as living after this injury he suffered is impossible, he could still feel the lingering terror whenever he stares at those ominously glowing orbs that was the eyes of this man, obviously not normal given his demonstrations back then."... China, Brazil and Italy were about to do the same thing, you're nation isn't the only one to have one of their cities levelled" the man turned his head to stare and the destruction they induced towards the city.

The mysteries of Lianyungang, Manaus and Bari have finally been solved. They have been chosen as targets by this World Order over their governments' audacity to attempt and defy their rule...

... And now Fairbanks has joined them.

"I've let you live long enough to know the reason, now it is time for you to die" Damian's right hand ignited in fire as he pointed his fingers at the Major General's head. "Farewell Jonathan" The blade materialized forward and impaled him right between his eyes, a quick death in comparison to the others that survived his onslaught.

000000000

"YOU WHAT!"

Ever since the existence of man, the vocal tone always served as the audiotoral indicator of one's emotional state. No matter how incomprehensible one's words are, the speaker could always impart his feelings to another...

... And for this current situation it would be the feeling of anger.

"NEXUS we have assessed everything beforehand, checkpoints were established on all outlying roads and drones are patrolling the forests on a periodical basis."

Lukas watched the contretemps between Hiro and their superior on the earpiece just like the rest. It's been about five minutes since all four of them arrived on Sector O-0, which is the intersection of the David road and Wilbur Street. Hiro himself is standing atop a tumbled van, his scarlet-tinted visors had faded into transparency, allowing him to view the surrounding world with his own brown eyes and his sniper rifle lying beside his feet.

Elias can be seen on the ground with his back laid on a taxi, a freshly lit cigarette latched on his lips. Julien himself was atop the same vehicle, lying on the front as if it was a bed and compensating his boredom by stargazing until their superior contacted them just a few seconds ago.

Lukas himself is sitting atop one of their APCs in a position that put all three of them on his frontal view. Beside him were his ruby-red facemask, having long since unclasped them from his face and exposing his face for all to see. His eyes were as golden as his hair whereas his mouth and nose, along with the rest of his lower-face, remain obscured by the black balaclava he wore.

Assembled before them were a small portion of the soldiers under their command, having led them in this operation of besieging Fairbanks. The black-armoured men were individually arranged in rectangular 7x10 formations and led by the those higher in their overall command structure, joining them are an assortment of vehicles ranging from Rhino APCs to Knightcruisers.

This only represents a small portion of their army since most were still conducting patrols in the city along with the aerial drones, its better safe than sorry to let any survivors escape.

"You cannot diverge from the assigned protocol and for the sake of satiating your collective whim for destruction, all five of have basically placed the entire operation at stake!"

He continued to watch as the Japanese man deal with the situation in his seemingly perpetual collected manner. As it is their private channel being tapped into, they could hear the exchange between their superior and Japanese compatriot as opposed to being one-sided on the latter's part, much like trying to listen to a conversation between someone and their mobile phone.

At the background of Hiro is a massive structure, bearing the shape of a cylinder and standing at the height of three meters; it's metallic surface is painted in the colour of black much like that of them and their army. The same goes for the crimson-glowing lines that gave it a segmented appearance. At the base of the object is a console where one could interact with it. Out of their entire local arsenal, this payload held the most importance as the success of the operation solely lies on it.

The Molecular Interaction Nullifier or MIN may not be considered as the most powerful WMD in the contemporary era, but it can be considered the most effective WMD in human history. The MIN is quite similar to its kind, namely being capable of causing destruction on a large scale. But what makes it unique is how it induces the destruction. Whereas its brethren destroy everything in its reach be it living or material but leaves some identifiable residues of the two, the MIN pulverizes everything by nullifying the molecular bonds of anything in its radius, hence the name. What's more is that it doesn't produce any seismic activity or damage to the environment like the nuclear weapons by the world's most powerful nations, adding to its effectiveness due to its undetectable and environment-friendly nature.

The origin of his their superior's fury can be traced back before the commencement of the operation. They were supposed to follow the standard protocol of covertly delivering the MIN at the city's designated ground zero and exfiltrating at top-speed after setting the timer, much like they've done on similar operations in China, Brazil and Italy in the past weeks. It was a quick and effective procedure as the operations were finished in a matter of minutes and no equipment was expended other than the payload itself.

But for Fairbanks, they had unanimously plotted to take a different approach on their superiors' back.

It had been about a month and a half since they've undertaken some combat. The World Order summoned them to annihilate an Al-Qaeda cell that had been planning to kidnap an important person that has ties with them. At the dead of the night, they went to the isolated town that was hiding the said pocket of terrorists and slaughtered the locals to the outmost.

As such, they've gotten bored by the uneventful days which prompted them to assault the city head-on.

"An operation..." another voice inserted itself in the conversation uninvited before a black smoke conjured in the middle and disappeared to reveal the presence of their final compatriot. His very appearance alone immolated the vegetation around the area. An ordinary person would've been startled by this act, but all of them were unfazed as they've gotten used to his demonstrations of power. The same goes for their soldiers, not out of being accustomed like them, but due to their emotions being nullified during their recruitment.

"... That has been achieved nonetheless" Damian finished in a calm demeanour as he gazed at Hiro, gesturing him that he'll handle the matter from now on. "As my compatriot said, we've taken great care to ensure that nothing gets out of this city and jeopardize the operation, something we wouldn't want as well. Everything has been neutralized with extreme prejudice and patrols are still underway, there's nothing to worry about"

What came next from their superior is a deep sigh, a sign of admission for his reasoning. "Very well, proceed with the objective and finish this. We don't need to remind any of you of your new assignment tomorrow, NEXUS out"

Silence arose as their superior disconnected the communications link to their channel, leaving the only source of sound to be the raging fires that is consuming the vegetation.

"Is this really necessary mein freund?" Lukas was quick to ask out-loud upon their superior's departure. Damian could swear that it was a sentiment shared by the rest as evidenced by the way they look at him.

"Yes..." Damian spoke in truthful admission, yet upon the examination of his tone one could see the grudging reluctance at being forced to do their assignment tomorrow. "We have to. He has what we're looking for."

After years of progress, the DOMINION project has finally reached its final stages. Unfortunately, the project hit a snag due to the lack of a crucial component, termed AO due to its importance. With the project coming to a screeching halt, it had been their primary mission since then – find something that would fulfill its role.

"Do we really have a choice" quipped Hiro, who is unwilling to do it much like the rest. "There should be alternatives right? We'll be out in the open, not to mention the risk of exposure for the World Order would be considerably high"

It was about a month ago. Lord Nemo Vaughan contacted them along with the infamous Chris Mclean during one of the Black Round Table's personal meetings with the High Circle, the leaders of the World Order, having disclosed their existence to him. It was all possible since Lord NV, being the richest man in the world, has ties with the World Order and even has a seat in one of their circles.

Initially, just like all who uncovered the World Order's existence, they were to silence Mclean whilst the Circle comes up with a punishment for NV given his actions. But they held back upon the narcissistic fool revealing his awareness with the DOMINION as well and showing them the object they're exactly looking for, and proving it through a little demonstration. Lord NV revealed that the object was something his company has created some time ago at the cost of several billion dollars and had deliberately chose to keep its existence hidden, instead using it to create that wonder island of his.

This is without a doubt the sole reason why the construction of Eden Island is staggeringly expensive.

This prompted the Circle to demand what the duo wants as it was the logical reason for contacting them. Mclean revealed his reason – he wants them, the Black Round Table, to participate in his show for the sake of greater drama. Of course, all of them vehemently voiced their disapproval as it would expose the World Order; Mclean's response was nearly destroying the object. Lord NV revealed that while the object is indeed powerful, it is also extremely fragile as a few smashes of hammer brought spanning cracks on its surface.

Given how something they want is at stake, the Circle was forced to comply. But NV was merciful enough to convince Mclean to keep the existence of the project hidden and give them special privileges in the contest, something that was at least alleviating for them and the Circle.

"We don't have any" Damian reaffirmed, voicing every word with complete displeasure at being forced in the corner. "It's the only way"

A loud crack was heard as a gauntleted fist slammed the ground, crushing the pavement below. "Damn you, Mclean" Elias muttered in boiling rage.

"But at least, we will have company" Damian proclaimed in a sudden change of mood. "Wilsworth will be competing"

This revelation lit their faces with surprise as they cast him disbelieving stares.

"Wilsworth's alive?" Julien asked, speaking for the first time.

"Impossible" Lukas muttered in disbelief. "He was barely clinging to life when we left him in that meadow six months ago"

"A decision we must regret, by a twist of fate Mr. Chef Hatchet had stumbled upon him sometime after we left" Damian replied. "Nevertheless, we'll deal with him tomorrow. For now, this operation" he spanned his hands as his eyes glowed red once again and levitates from the ground. He didn't only limit the reach of his power to him as Lukas, Julien, Elias and Hiro found themselves dragged upward along with the vehicles their resting on. Closing his hands, he tore apart the vehicles into several pieces and welded them into each other to form a rough yet stable stage before the MID to overlook the assembled army. Damian descended on the stage with the rest of the Black Round Table standing by his side.

Before Damian could begin his speech, he and everyone registered the sound of afterburners coming from the night sky. Looking up with the rest of the Black Round Table, they watched as their Hovercraft approach directly overhead and hovered just above them.

(AN: This is the one from the Hunger Games series)

"Listen up!" Damian began in an air of overwhelming authority, not even being dampened by the blares of the aircraft's afterburners. "Each and every single one of you has been briefed of our operation tomorrow. That is, our participation in the Total Drama competition by Chris Mclean in order to acquire component AO for the completion of the DOMINION Project. In our absence, command shall be relegated to the High Circle of the World Order for until further notice, but we will reassume leadership in the event no contest would take place for the day"

Damian turned back and reached his hand at the MIN's control console, using the power of telekinesis to prime the timer.

"Sequence initiated. Detonation in T minus 30 minutes" the MIN's computer transmitted the announcement of its activation at all communications channel. The soldiers around them quickly piled inside their APCs in an organized chaos and began driving away from the MIN to the rally point at top-speed.

With their soldiers evacuating, Damian teleported themselves into the insides of the Hovercraft and leaving the stage in a dissipating black smoke.

30 minutes later, the city had been completely deserted. No soul was left to tread the streets as the Black Round Table slew everything that lived here, who had long since reached the rally point and left behind the MIN.

Having completed the countdown. The crimson lighting of the MIN began glowing intensely, cracks began appearing all-over its body as the rising energy levels are exceeding that of what can the structural integrity maintain. It wasn't long before the structure finally gave in and explodes to unleash an extremely luminous flash of red light that engulfed the entire city and everything else in a radius of 7 km. After the light died down, all that's left was a mass of powder stretching over the area that is the conglomeration of elementary particles.

The entire process just took a single second.

---

Morality. A set of values classifying right and wrong; it is this concept that had aided man since the dawn of civilization to make decisions that shaped their very future. It is a crucial component of a civilized being, what separates them from savage barbarians.

It is the concept that sums the young man sitting beside a desk within the confines of a darkened room. His black hair is styled in a 'Mountain Man' haircut whereas his blue eyes remained focused on the screen. His clothes consists of a white collared-shirt with rolled-up sleeves under a brown ballistic vest that was a friend of his late father gave to him as a gift in his 9th birthday, a member of the SWAT. His legs were clothed in blue jeans and finally, his hands and feet were wearing pairs of fingerless gloves and shoes, both which were brown in color.

The very atmosphere was dark and foreboding ever since he had immersed his entire attention on the laptop on his table for almost the past hour.

News articles concerning mysterious incidents that happened in China, Brazil and Italy.

At first, all contact with the city was lost then what's and when their respective governments went to investigate all they met was a wide pile of fine particles that stretched over where the city used to be and the surrounding area. Upon examination, it was revealed that they were the remnants of the cities as the fine particles were elements constitutes the infrastructure of the city. Virtually every scientist was restlessly trying to figure out how was this possible ever since the news first hit, as it was impossible for solid matter, let alone buildings, to just turn into a powdered-state in an instant. What's chilling is that the inhabitants were also missing, even though as search parties were dispatched everyone has already concluded that they met the same fate as the city they live in. Even though still unexplainable, many were quick to jump on the conclusion that these incidents are terrorist attacks.

The nature of these attacks threw the world in turmoil as governments went on high alert in fear of being targeted next, the attacked countries even declaring martial law. Everyone is basically afraid that their homes would be next; he couldn't blame them as it was a predictable response to a disaster. No terrorist have claimed responsibility over the attacks as such widespread destruction was even beyond their capabilities, instead claiming it as the 'Punishment from God' along with the other extremes of religion. Needless to say these worked effectively, as religious groups take the streets to ramble about the coming of Judgment day and harassing bystanders to repent for any sin they committed.

If he wasn't seething in anger right now, he would've rolled his eyes at how stupid those people are. One of the ridiculous attributes of humanity is the tendency to associate of anything unexplainable to something divine.

Good thing he isn't one of those deluded idiots.

"Monsters" It was the word that accurately described the perpetrators of these attacks as they effortlessly claimed the lives of thousands. "Just what are they trying to achieve in murdering countless people?" he continued to glare at the screen upon scrolling down on the pictures of the site.

His musings didn't proceed any further as someone knocked his door. The light tapping on the smooth wood yanked his attention back to the surroundings.

"Abraham dear, Mr. Hatchet is here" this news somewhat lightened his mood as his furrowed eyes pulled back and relaxed into normality. He had received the schedule in his email and was surprised that he was the last to be picked-up, allowing him to work on a normal schedule with added overtime this day. His co-workers were aware of his audition which is why they wished him good luck in the competition and hopefully win.

Heeding the call of his aunt, Christopher Abraham Washington, or Abraham as he preferred, abandoned his chair with his laptop in his hands and went to his bed where a blue duffel bag is sitting. Aside from clothing and other necessities, he had brought along that little pet project he had been working for months. It has reached its final stages and it was only a matter of time before it reaches its completion. In hindsight, people would think of this project as something that from college… but that wasn't the case as this was beyond a mere project, it's a unique invention; having pooled the knowledge he'd gained from the fields of mechanics, engineering and computing into this endeavor.

Ever since his childhood, he has a fascination with technology. He could remember the times where his late-parents scolding him for routinely tinkering with electronics and usually grounding him for it. Even at a young age he had taken up to reading college-level books in a multitude of libraries in an effort to further his knowledge about them and even other subjects as a bonus. Both of these habits contributed him into being a very intelligent individual at the fair age of 9 and being always at the top of his class.

His late parents had polarizing opinions about this though.

His father, an office worker, was strongly opposed to this as he had become secluded from social life and it was proving to be a constant drain on their earnings while his mother, a kind-hearted high-school teacher who was the source of his household books and fees for the library, encouraged him instead. Arguments between them had spurned, but it was not heated like anyone would assume.

Fitingly for his character, he was a scrawny wimp back then. He never paid much attention to his body as it was to focused on the acquisition of knowledge, which led to him being regularly picked on by the larger kids.

After placing his laptop inside, he strapped the bag over his shoulder and waltzed towards the doorway. Their house was small in size, it was all that his family could afford. It didn't house much luxuries as they barely indulge in said luxuries as they're too focused in sustaining themselves.

After making his way downstairs to the living room, he is greeted by the sight of his other relative.

Ezra Weinraub is an aging man long confined to a wheelchair. Despite the man's now evident fragility at the age of nearly a hundred, he still had the strength to pull a bright smile in the presence of his only grandchild. On his lap was a fresh plate of Jewish delicacy, the Yemenite malawach.

This sight alone was enough to completely evaporate whatever grim mood that has remained in him. "Grandpa, you really shouldn't have." Abraham said while munching on the hot bread after his grandfather handed them out to him.

Ezra could only chuckle with amusement. "Balderdash, child. You need to keep your strength up if you want to go further in the competition." The wheelchair bound old man spoke in a faded German accent, having been born in Warsaw, Poland in the early 20th century

"I agree, considering the well-known antics of Mr. Mclean. But the competition isn't my only focus, I'm investigating about the incidents in the past weeks while on the show" he took another bite

"Right those mysterious attacks on those cities." His grandfather sighed, his mood fading into a serious one as he placed his hand on the Abraham's shoulder, inevitably revealing a serial number that had been tattooed above his forearm. Even for his dauntlessness, seeing this was always unsettling as it was the reminder of the greatest atrocities committed on his people, moreso for his grandfather as he had lived through it. "I know our family has suffered great injustice over the past hundred years; you and I are living proof of that. But don't let it consume your life. Try to have fun on your trip"

It was true. Their line had experienced suffering after suffering for the past centuries for being of Jewish descent.

As evidenced by the writing on his forearm, Ezra Weinraub and entire family were but a few of the millions of victims of the Holocaust during the era of the Nazi Germany. Life in the camp of Auschwitz was so brutal that only he, the youngest of the family, survived by the time the Red Army of the Soviet Union liberated the camp, though at the cost of his legs. He had since been adopted by the family of his eventual wife as they immigrated here in the US with the hopes for a better life. The following years was what he called his happiest period in his life as he raised his two daughters with every ounce of love he could muster until his new family and beloved were taken away from him once again by an antisemitic mob who burned down their house. His daughters had to stop schooling and work to support themselves.

It was some years later when Galina Weinraub, Ezra's eldest and Abraham's mother, met his father Caleb Washington during a fateful stroll in the park. Ezra didn't frown upon his daughter's choice as a husband like any other Jewish father would, moreso when the man himself is not bound to any religion. He was content on letting her obey her heart. With Caleb's marriage to her, they were elevated from the lower-class division into the lower middle-class of the United States; still low but it felt good to finally rise from poverty after decades.

With Caleb and Galina's marriage, they brought Abraham to this world. His birth shone some light in Ezra's tormented heart especially when he first carried him in his hands. But sadly, even he wasn't spared from the curse that had been imposed by fate to their family line.

At the age of 10, the young boy had watched helplessly as his parents were gunned down before his eyes whereas Ezra and his other daughter Galilah had their already broken hearts break even more, moreso for Ezra as he suffered a heart attack days after their deaths. This experience left him traumatized even now and had a profound effect on him, losing his innocence had replaced his then joyous personality with a hardened psyche as trained rigorously to mold his body into something stronger, vowing to never be powerless again. To his grandfather and aunt's adamant disapproval, part of the said training was physically subduing his tormentors in the neighborhood one-by-one. The end result was either him battering his foes or him being the one battered, something that had routinely placed him on juvie but always escaping due to having learned the arts of doing so. Knowing that he couldn't stop his grandson and possibly get himself killed, Ezra enlisted the aid of his Chinese friend along with some of the retired Spetsnaz soldiers that liberated him in Auschwitz into teaching Abraham in martial arts. Abraham proved to be a fast-learner as expected and it utilized his knowledge to the utmost in completely subduing his tormentors into submission.

Placing himself atop the food-pyramid in his own words. Those who used to bully him now fear his presence alone.

Oh how the tables have turned.

"I'll try Grandpa, I've seen the show. It won't be very fun to go through." Abraham said in an attempt to lighten the mood as he finished the dish and set the plate back on his grandfather's lap.

Galilah entered the door. "Abe dear, you might want to come now. Mr. Hatchet's getting impatient." Of course the Chef's impatience is justified, that lunatic he had for a boss forced him into this unpleasant task in the first place and had provided him little to no time of rest.

"I'll see you in a couple of months..." He hunched down to hug his grandfather. "... Goodbye" then to his aunt, both returning the favour in return. He walked to the door and had opened it when his grandfather called his attention for the last time.

"Abe..." the Jewish youth turned to see something in the old man's arms. "...You nearly forgot this" he said as he handed out his grandson's fedora, black in colour and bore the Star of David on the side.

Abraham put's the headwear on its intended place. "Stay safe you two" it was his final parting message as he closed the door.

Now outside, he stoically walked to the limousine, where Chef waited impatiently tapping the steering wheel of the the extended vehicle, and trying to swat a fly away.

"About time kid. You're going to have to work on your reactionary time if you want make it far in the game." The cook remarked in annoyance over the time it took him to leave his house. Abraham decided to amuse Chef by using his reflexes to grab the fly and release it out the window. The testament of skill left the man speechless for about a second before he let out a whistle of impression.

"Damn, might've underestimated you maggot. Alright hop in so I can finish this delivery quick" Abraham wordlessly complied and entered the limousine, impressed at the luxuries presented inside much like the rest. But he never paid a long attention to any of these as he stared back at his house, his aunt and grandfather overlooking him from the window as the car drove away.

It wasn't long when they finally disappeared from his view as they got farther. Now, he leaned on the couch as he powered the Flatscreen with the nearby remote, opening to a cooking channel. He inputted the channel number of CNN as he was more interested in seeing the news especially regarding the attacks, hopefully there was some good this time.

Unfortunately, it would appear to be not the case.

Right on the screen is the city of Fairbanks, or at least what used to be as it was now a smoking wide heap of powder that stretched across where the city used to be. The reporter, who was onboard the helicopter as his cameraman filmed the area below, began his duty in a shocked tone that befits the scene.

"Are you all seeing this? This is all that remains of Fairbanks. An hour and a half ago, all contact in the city was lost under mysterious circumstances and by the time the National Guard arrived to investigate, this is all that's left of the city. Similar incidents have occurred in China, Brazil and Italy in the past weeks. Who are doing this and why are the questions buzzing in everyone's head as authorities from the nations affected still have no lead..."

"No..." Abraham muttered in wide-eyed horror at the sight of the devastation. Another tens of thousands had mounted on the countless lives claimed by the attacks and the perpetrators still remain unknown and at large.

"My god, it's the US this time" Abraham heard Chef Hatchet voice an equally horrified response. "Those guys sure doesn't have any fear over whoever they're attacking" He was referring to the perpetrators and the audacity they posses over inflicting a blow on the most powerful nation on the world, a blow heavier than the 9/11 of Osama bin-laden and his Al-Qaeda lackeys.

"Yeah..." Abraham agreed before putting his analytical skills to use. "... Given what they're capable of, they're clearly more dangerous than all known terrorist organizations, possibly even as strong as the United States" It was an adequate hypothesis of the perpetrators' aptitude. Whoever they are, they're powerful enough to inflict a series of direct blows on several nations; so powerful that they make all known terrorists look a petty annoyance in comparison.

It's clear that they're using some kind of secretly developed and virtually unknown weapon to not only cause this type of destruction but also serve as their equalizer to the West's nuclear arsenal, thereby putting them on the position of a superpower despite being a non-governmental entity. It's even highly possible that they have an army to challenge the military might of the United States.

"Now that's terrifying, I'm afraid that we could be next" even for a person with an aura of intimidation, Chef Hatchet is not immune to the emotion of fear just like all living beings. "All this news is making me worry for my daughter and granddaughter"

Seeing that they weren't any good news as he had hoped, he powered down the TV to spare himself of the horrific disaster. With scores of human life lost again, anger arose within him again with renewed intensity, which disappeared during his last moments with his family, as he vowed to find a way to end this.

"I'll stop you..." his now furrowed eyes shut as he attempted to clear his thoughts to focus. "Not today, nor tomorrow. But I swear that I'll stop you"

AN: There you have it folks, the long awaited update.

Given how their clothing is different from what I've written, I made some changes in the OCs section in the first chapter again, for the last time I swear. In the Black Round Table's section, I simplified Damian and Elias' labels.

Now that I've mentioned them, I'm pretty sure that your eyebrows were raised as all of you went through their sections. Back in the first chapter, I did tell you that the Black Round Table are powerful and destructive but you're probably never expecting them to be this powerful and destructive (actually destroying several cities); They're working for an Illuminati-like organization and even having command over an entire army, what's more is that they have a powerful superweapon in their arsenal and capable of launching attacks on several countries.

Fortunately for the contestants, they are obviously forbidden from employing their army during the competition by Chris Mclean along with the High Circle of the World Order as well as killing any of their fellow competitors. But even without their army, the BRT are still formidable opponents as you've seen, they can steamroll the competition without much effort. The only explanation I can give is that all five of them are far from ordinary humans.

Wilsworth – It's what they refer to Cody. They call him by that surname instead of Anderson as was written in the wiki. The reason for this will be revealed later in the fic, but it's related to his past with Damian.

If you haven't noticed yet, the rating of this fic has now been changed to 'M' since there will be dark and violent moments, usually surrounding Cody and the Black Round Table.

The next update would be the official start of this fic, as it's now set on Eden Island on the day of the competition. It will come after an unprecedented amount of time since I'm focusing my attention on my other fics along with the ones I've planned, especially my upcoming masterpiece which I aim to publish by the end of the year.

Also, please don't send your choices for the poll in the reviews like in the previous chapter. The purpose of the reviews is to give feedback on the chapter.

... And please say something about the OCs.

But before this chapter comes to an end, I have two last things for you readers.

First is that here are the age and height of the OCs, according to their creators themselves.

FORMAT: AGE / HEIGHT

Gregor: 21 / Same as Lightning.

Alice: 20 / Same as Gwen.

Pansy: 22 / Same as Sierra.

Josh: 20 / Same as Duncan.

Lucy: 19 / Slightly taller than Duncan.

Ryder: 20 / Same as Beth.

Slade: 21 / Same as DJ.

Spade: 21 / Same as DJ.

Zara: 22 / A little bit taller than Trent.

Amy: 20 / Same as Gwen.

Valerie: 19 / A little bit taller than Duncan.

Neil: 20 / Same as Tyler.

Kai: 20 / Same as Geoff.

Ivan: 20 / Same as Alejandro.

Wilbur: 14 / Same as Cameron

Julissa: 20 / Same as Heather.

Abel: 20 / Same as Duncan.

Amber: 21 / Slightly taller than Gwen.

Damian: 23 / Mouth-level of DJ.

Lukas: 22 / Same as Alejandro.

Julien: 21 / Chin-level of DJ

Elias: 24 / eye-level of Rodney.

Hiro: 23 / Same as Jasmine.

Abraham: 20 / Same as Alejandro.

Second is this, something I've prepared just for your readers. I would like you all to try and solve the code below as a recreation while you wait for the update; the message embedded is a pattern which defines a life-changing even that will be experienced by two contestants during the competition, and it is because of this why TDE would be the last Total Drama for one of them (I have a sequel for TDE planned).

Be sure to send your findings in PM so I can determine whether you got it right or not, and know that I will ignore those sent in the reviews.

915713957935715791974628424882482429759359591573379

157555511351357171537248482864284825315135151397579

173597391375913735719324642624246241937597519713579

359353959353539395934864868464868841353113135153135

375173175137735317682628682682682687597597597597595

197177977179771148648468484488486489173597391735913

153513553153351382428284284282868247957391739379177

393953953953959962846824628468268261937937937917973

173957197359357516248268426864682683553973917973919

917591739317191351626286286286826865795955979795759

357931759137917593346264262664626461953919195399395

951739137937171393791846826824682863953959395393933

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Till next time...