Hey guys, it's time for part two.
Chapter 25: The Battle For The World
35000 Feet Above San Francisco
1430 Hours
"This is Zanzibar Leader," A gruff male voice, belonging to a man named Marcus Scentus echoed over the PA system, "As soon as our scanners pick up on Prototype movement, we drop. All teams designated for US defense, report to your docking bay or orbital drop pod station."
The halls of the Shades of Grey suddenly sprung to life, Spartans in their armor rushing to their stations. As soon as the US drop was complete they'd move on to all the other locations.
In the docking bay, Pelican engines roared and Scorpion tanks growled as they loaded up, readying to be flown down. Warthogs were undergoing final checks as they were attached to the bottom of Pelicans, and Spartans were filling in the insides, making sure they had plenty of ammo for their weapons. Squad leaders were sounding off their various roles and ensuring everyone was set and ready to go.
Meanwhile in the orbital drop pod stations, Spartans were loading weapons into their pods and then stepping inside, grabbing the top of the pod and sliding them down, sealing them inside. Green acknowledgement lights filled the screens of the managers who watched the status screens, ready to launch the Spartans down.
"Estimated time until Prototype units show up, five minutes." Zanzibar Leader's voice alerted everyone, who immediately double timed it to their stations for set up, "San Francisco Team, your drop is T-minus five minutes. All other personnel, prepare for a SlipSpace jump afterwards."
In the drop pod station the final pod had been sealed and primed for drop. The Spartan in charge pressed a button on the left of the status screens, "Zanzibar Leader, all drop pods ready for launch."
"Copy that. Thanks for the heads up."
The final tank had been loaded up onto the Pelicans and the final Spartan had made it onto his flight. As the doors hissed behind him, sealing the inside of the Pelican, the overseer sent his 'all clear' message to Marcus.
Thirty seconds later, alarm klaxons rang throughout the entire ship, alerting them to Prototype activity.
"This is Zanzibar Leader. Prototype Units detected within attacking range of San Francisco. Commence Operation Protectorate… NOW!"
With the word to start the operation, a hail of drop pods soared towards the ground, followed by a swarm of Pelicans flying in various vehicles.
There was no time to waste, as there were units hitting everywhere around the world. With the coordinates preloaded, Zanzibar Leader threw the ship into SlipSpace after all units that were supposed to have gone down were confirmed to have left.
1525 Hours
Los Angeles, New York, Miami, and DC had already been under attack by the time they had arrived, the next slew of reinforcements flying down to assist. Marcus had sent word to Kira that things were going as planned, with their next stop being London.
Meanwhile, at IS Academy, the final preparations were being made.
First off, IS Academy went into Lockdown mode, meaning that no ships were to enter its waters nor fly over it without permission gotten before passing into its space. This mean no ground vehicles as well could pass through once they had made sure everyone had gotten inside.
The headmaster had decided to change plans, evacuating all civilians into IS Academy's shelters as to not spread our Breaker Team's forces as much. Scorpion tanks had been put into a siege sort of mode, being more armored but unable to move, covered by sieged up Gauss turret Warthogs and bunkered up machine gun nests that could function as AA as well.
"Pilot Alcott!" a gold painted Spartan approached Cecilia with a special looking sniper rifle, "If I may request something of you?"
"Yes? What is it?"
"We… we at the Spartans would like to ask you to be our spotter. According to our data, you are far superior sniper than most of us here. Most of Breaker Team and whatever we have specialize in explosives and armor, so we're not as good with sniping. We have our spotters, but none of them are as good as you in fast and moving targets."
"A-are you serious?" Cecilia asked, stunned. She knew she had lost in the battle for Kira's heart, but she wasn't unopposed to helping him. For her, this was a golden opportunity to pay him back for everything he had helped her with, including toning down her proud and rambunctious personality.
"Yes." He said in a matter-of-fact way.
"I'll do it!" she quickly answered, before reverting into a standard military mindset she had been trained in, "Where do you need to me to hole up?"
"Top of the tower. We'll have two Spartans up there, and you can still use your IS for extra protection." He handed her the sniper rifle, "It's a modified one that can track coordinates that our tanks can fire, if we get any sort of artillery marched up here or any pesky Prototype units."
"Understood."
"Star Two and Three!" the golden Spartan called out, "Accompany Pilot Alcott to the tower. Ensure she survives."
"Understood, sir!"
"Take two machine guns for each of you, a SAW, a shotgun, JetPack, and Bubble Shield. You'll need them all."
"Roger that. Pilot Alcott, please give us five minutes while we gather our equipment." As she nodded for them to go they ran towards the armory they had set up, and within three minutes of the allotted five had returned with all of their equipment, "Allow us to lead the way."
Washington DC
1510 Hours
"Damnit, this is what, the second attack in two years?!" Donut yelled out as his squad ducked into another alleyway, avoiding the fire of another Prototype unit.
"Yeah, and this time that Kira kid had already told the world about it, but looks like no one listened," His buddy, Grif, said as he turned the corner and started shooting at the unit, "Sarge, it doesn't look like its shielded, but definitely doesn't look like anyone's piloting the thing!"
"Got it," Sargent 'Red' as he was often called, nodded, "Fall back for now, we can't take it on as a small group. Church, you got sightlines on that thing?"
"Can't get a clear shot, sorry Sarge."
"Copy that. Can you give us signal when it's safe to break cover?"
"I can do that much… oh crap, move! It's coming right for you!"
"Hunter Sqaud, fall back!" Sarge yelled, everyone sprinting down the alley.
Within the next second, the Prototype unit had come upon them, ready to tear them to shreds with its swords that gleamed with death.
One second later, a massive shockwave shook everyone, coming seemingly from the Prototype's side.
Not another one…
A few seconds later more shockwaves were felt, and it seemed even the Prototype unit had hesitated as it tried to locate the source of the shockwaves.
The members of Hunter Squad watched in awe as a dark green armored glove punched the Prototype unit right in its 'face' and sent it back. A commanding voice yelled out, "Wing Team, fire at it! Don't let it escape!" Hunter Squad slowly and cautiously peeked their way out, seeing the squad of five Spartans begin to fire at the Prototype unit, which fought back.
Six BIT units were launched, but four sniper rifle shots that echoed throughout the burning city later, and they had all gone down, expertly shot down to maximize hits per shot.
The sound of a machine gun spinning caught their attention as a massive Spartan carried in a machine gun that looked like it belonged on a turret as if it was nothing to him, firing at the retreating Prototype. It would've gotten away, but a grenade soared through the air and knocked a restaurant sign of its handle, collapsing it on said unit.
"Sarge…" Donut began as the Spartans began to advance on the unit.
"Yeah, Corporal?"
"Aren't those… the Spartans we were given orders to bring in…?" All he got was a small nod.
They continued to watch, mesmerized, as one member of their team with a shotgun shot the unit in the chest, and before it could flee, their leader had taken a knife and plunged it into the helmet before taking out said knife and slitting its 'throat', then left it on the ground to supposedly die.
"If you want to, you're more than welcome to try to bring me in," The Spartan joked, knocking Hunter Squad out of its reverie, "Though I would advise against it." He suddenly turned away, "This is Wing Team, we've made landfall. Objectives? …I see. Okay, got it. Wing Team, we need to knock out the AA at the Capitol building."
"Shit, Phantom Task got set up quickly," Wing Two whistled, "They really drew their plans well."
"Sock it for now," Wing Leader turned back to Hunter Squad, "Excuse me, but who's the CO here?"
"I am," Sarge said, steel in his voice.
"I know that you've got orders to bring us in, but right now, you mind giving us a hand? We need all the help we can get."
"…Alright, we're with you."
"Excellent." Wing Leader nodded, "Alright, let's roll. As soon as we get that AA knocked out, it should be easy enough to land in our vehicles and give us something to really hit those Prototype with."
The two squads linked up and immediately headed down the road, towards the Capitol building.
"So," Sarge asked as they ducked down behind a destroyed car, before popping out and opening fire on a Phantom Task infantry squad, "Care to give us a summary on what's going on, Spartan?"
"Phantom Task's plan to hit a lot of the major cities of the world's going through." He answered calmly, "Spartans have been dispersed in an attempt to minimize destruction. Though a lot of us are getting the same exact patterns. They only target military targets, no civilians."
"Did I hear that right?" Donut raised an eyebrow, "No civilian causalities?"
"It seems that these units are going out of their way to not harm any military personnel." With one final shot from his Battle Rifle Wing Leader finished up taking care of the Squad, "In fact, they had made their presence known, only attacking rooftops and whatnot, causing minimal damage until the civvies had for the most part left and then the military showed up. Then things went to hell."
"How do you know that?"
"Happened down in San Francisco, LA, the works. Wing Team, move up on my signal… Mark." With calculated precision the Spartans moved up, staying low but ready to fire at a moment's notice, "Wing Five, how's our six?"
"Clear, sir."
"Got it. Keep a watch out. Hunter Squad, move on my go. Ready… go!" The soldiers sprinted towards the Spartans, their sniper on the lookout behind them, "Last checks, make sure your motion trackers are clear."
"All clear."
"Let's move then. Shades of Grey, this is Wing Leader, requesting map to objective."
"Map uploading."
"Thanks." He quickly looked at the map on his HUD, "Okay, we're nearby the World War II memorial, so we've got to make it past the John Paul Jones Memorial, then slug it out across the National Mall."
"Ouch," Wing Four whistled, "That's gonna be painful."
"Save your whining. We got better things to do. At least it's a straight shot for us." Before moving, he quickly went over the plan. Pass the Memorial, stick to the right side and hug that side, first going towards the Smithsonian Institution Building and then fighting their way past, "Let's move it."
By now, DC, the normally bustling city it was, was dead quiet, save for the occasional explosion or gunfire that erupted every now and then. The only other sounds heard were the crunching of feet as the stepped on the gravel and careful breathing. However, several Phantom Task vehicles were driving around, picking off any military targets they could find.
"Damn Phantom Task," Wing Two growled as he reloaded his sniper rifle, taking out the driver and turret gunner in another truck, "Someone remind me how they got these things here?"
"Langley Team's taking care of that, alongside Element Team. That should cut off their amphibious attack coming from the Tidal Basin." He suddenly stopped behind a car and crouched down, "Wing Two, Three, I want you staying here to cover the Rangers here. The rest of us will go up and make sure nothing's there leading up to the monument- GET DOWN!"
Everyone dived down and got to cover as the screech of a thruster filled the skies. As soon as it had passed, Wing Leader opened fire on the Prototype that had flew past, "This is Wing Leader to all units, Prototype spotted nearby the John Paul Jones Memorial! Currently heading down 17th Street! All units, be advised, Prototype unit may be coming your way!" He then turned to his squad and to Hunter Squad, "Alright everyone, let's double time it."
IS Academy
1525 Hours
"This is Alcott. Breaker Team, I'm seeing two Prototype units converging on your position. Marking them now with the Marker Rifle." The Marker Rifle was quickly lined up, transmitting the coordinates like the Target Designator and locked on its target, "Breaker Leader, are you receiving these coordinates?"
"Yes, Pilot Alcott. Shots imminent."
Several loud booms later, and Cecilia watched the two Prototype units instantly be shelled by Scorpion tanks. She quickly made a scan afterwards, watching the main pathway to IS Academy, "Breaker Team, I'm looking at what looks like several transport trucks making their way to the Academy. Can any of your other spotters confirm? I'll send the coordiantes."
"Copy that. Mind taking a look at the beach areas?"
"No problem."
"Pilot Alcott, we have confirmation on your transport truck sighting. Thanks for the heads up." A brief moment of static came through as he switched channels, "All units, be advised, they're beginning the air and ground stages. Shift into Phase Two fireteams."
Cecilia quickly shifted her view towards the ocean, looking for any movement on the ocean, the loud BOOMs of tank fire, filled with the occasion PISHUU! sound of the Gauss turrets going off, alongside the continuous ratatatatatata of machine guns.
She emptied her mind, not allowing for any outside noises to interfere with her concentration. She needed all of her training and experience if she was going to guide the Spartans through this holdout. Looking through her scope, she found nothing out on the open sea, "Alcott to Breaker Leader, seeing no bogeys out on the seas."
"Copy that, Alcott."
Cecilia took a breath as she lifted her face away from the scope. It was only going to get more complicated from here.
"Cecilia-san?" Cecilia paused for a second and looked at who was sending her a message. Laura?
"Yes, Laura-san?"
"Are you holding up alright?"
"I… I'm fine, I suppose. A-actually, do you have any tips on spotting?"
"Cecilia-san, you have been trained far more in sniping than I have. My only advice for you is that you should not spend too much time on any one target. Mark and move on."
"I see."
"This is your first formal military encounter, no?"
"It is, truthfully, I'm a bit nervous."
"Don't be. Your skills are more than enough to get the Spartans through today. Remember a lot of people are riding on your shoulders here."
"Right," she nodded, "Thanks Laura-san."
"Good luck."
"Thanks. You too." Cecilia closed her comm channel before taking a deep breath and looking down the scope again, "Breaker Leader, any position you want me to look for?"
"The fireteam by the beach area is getting a bit suspicious as nothing's come up yet."
"I'll take a second look on the ocean. The attacks are probably going to be staggered to test our defenses."
"I see. Thanks for the insight."
"Alright, let's see here…" Cecilia carefully and meticulously scanned the horizon for any sort of excess foam which would mean movement through the water. Nothing… wait, I think I see something. Let me zoom in.
It was far off, but it definitely had the form of a battleship, no markings to denote it as being from a country, "Alcott to HQ, I have an unidentified battleship. Shall we hail it?" she asked while sending the scope's image and coordinates markings.
"Negative, we have issued the order to vacate the area, and no country has tried to contact us about landing."
"Roger that. I'll forward it to Breaker Team," she swapped comm channels, "Breaker Leader, I've got eyes on an unidentified battleship that has not made contact with IS Academy. We are assuming hostile."
"Copy that."
"Sending coordinates."
"Man, that's far out. I'm impressed you saw it from up there," Cecilia flushed slightly at the compliment, "Alright, it might take a bit to actually calculate the angle of fire to actually score a hit, but this saves us immense time and pressure if it had gotten in close."
"T-thanks," Cecilia stammered but caught herself. She quickly made another sweeping scan, "Not seeing any other naval activity at this point." Cecilia spun around to look at the landmass area, "I'm seeing another three trucks with no designation. Painting targets."
"Coordinates received. Opening fire."
"…Hm? What's that?" Cecilia zoomed in further as she looked down the hill leading to IS Academy, "Breaker Leader, I've got eyes on enemy land based fast movers. Motorbikes with sidecars… looks like snipers as well. Watch your guys that are entrenched but still out in somewhat open… Or would you rather me take them out?"
"We have some of our spotters mobilizing as snipers. Thanks for the offer."
"Copy that," Cecilia nodded as she made another check towards the ocean, "I got incoming aquatic fast movers, followed by a sea transport! Marking transport. Ocean based fireteam spotters, can you get coordinates for any of the jetskis I miss?"
"Affirmative, Alcott."
Cecilia's HUD had been upgraded so that way any targets that had already been painted for fire were marked and all markings currently in progressive were marked, so no one was being redundant and the most efficiency could be pulled out from all the spotters, so she was able to work with the Spartans and quickly paint targets for the Gauss turrets while the tanks took out the transport.
The holdout went on for another fifteen minutes, a small transport here or there with a light escort.
"Breaker Leader, I'm getting a bad feeling about how easy this is…"
"Same here, Alcott…"
"Breaker Leader, you might want to see this. It washed ashore from those transports." On the screens of Cecilia and Breaker Leader's HUDs came the picture of a mannequin, "We've been had. The real battle is just about to begin."
Cecilia's instinct kicked in as she immediately turned to the right and looked out with her scope, "I got five planes and two helis," she marked them as fast as she could, then looked down towards the gates, "A fleet of motorcycles and trucks," she turned to the sea, "And a load of jetskis and masses of transports!"
"Everyone get ready, shit just got real."
Cecilia gulped as that familiar sense of dread came in. She dared to turn around and look out the window with her scope, "Breaker Leader…"
"What is it, Alcott?"
"…Seven Prototype units, all loaded for bear."
Paris, France
1556 Hours
"I can't shake him!" Hawk Two growled as he barreled his Saber right to dodge a flurry of gunfire from the Prototype unit chasing him down, "Anyone still out there?!" He took a look at the Team Vitality screen, Damn… Flying solo.
"I'll make my brothers proud." He mumbled to himself as he hit the afterburners, shooting him forward, "Let's take down as many bastards as I can. At least five, to avenge my team. Starting with THIS ASSHOLE!"
Hawk Two had never been the daring pilot, always sticking to the basics. It was one major reason he had stayed alive this long.
Which is why he felt absolutely crazy and good when he flew in a loop and ended up right behind the Prototype unit, which he immediately opened fire on, letting loose with missiles and machine gun fire, "Yeah! Come get some!"
If the unit in front of him could have been considered 'angry' before, now it was just pissed the hell off at this point. Of course, Hawk Two had no problem with that. If he was going to go down, it was gonna be swinging enough that the guy had a black eye and two broken bones when he went home.
"Roadkill," he laughed as he triggered the afterburners, smashing into the Prototype unit, shields flickering around his Saber. In the end, the Prototype was nothing but dented metal, while the Saber regenerated its shields, flying by, "One outta five."
Soaring over the streets, he saw another Prototype unit engaging a ground squad, and quickly grabbed its attention, "Ground team, I've got it from here." He let loose with the machine guns, forcing the Prototype to take him seriously or it would be nothing but scrap metal. It dodged the two missiles that Hawk Two launched, which he quickly remotely detonated, a feature that had been installed recently to minimize collateral damage, "Damn!"
He banked hard right to avoid a spray of gunfire, watching his shields flicker, the bar that indicated the shield integrity slipping.
His onboard computer ran calculations, scanning the Prototype unit he was up against and quickly finding what it was equipped with and how to properly counter it. The results popped up on the right side of his display: Two machine underneath its arms, a left shoulder mounted cannon, and a right shoulder mounted rocket launcher.
"Well then," Hawk Two said to no one in particular, "Let's dance, shall we?"
Putting the afterburners to max, he sped away, Prototype in hot pursuit, firing its machine guns at the pilot. Hawk Two merely grinned as he barreled rolled to the left and right, avoiding the shots with ease. He had to keep far enough away though, as to not be in range of the cannon.
Hopefully I've got enough flares to last me while I take this thing down, Hawk Two mused in his mind, diving towards the roof of a house, hoping to be able to trick the Prototype. While it didn't work to the fullest extent, it suffered minor damage, scraping the bottom of its feet, making it stumble a bit. This only served to further annoy said unit, which then pursued Hawk Two with as much fury as its limited mind allowed.
The commands ran through in its head as it scanned its opponent.
[Warning: Solo Pilot of Saber Fighter Jet now ranked Threat Level 10]
ERROR: Authorization for this new ranking not permitted. Protocol 'Maximization' is commencing override.
run IS:\Behavior\Combative\Opponents\Reaction\Protocol s\Maximization\
Override status: 0%... 46%... 74%...
Override successful.
[Warning: Solo Pilot of Saber Fighter Jet now ranked Threat Level 5]
Hawk Two knew something was wrong and things were about to get worse when he swore he heard the Prototype behind him growl. He pulled up, though it wasn't needed as the machine guns then spread out and fired down below on his fellow Spartans who all dashed for cover from the hail of gunfire, "Hey, idiot, I'm your opponent!" He did a half a loop then turned right side up, firing at the Prototype unit who dodged and returned fire, "Come and get me!"
At that moment the Prototype learned what it felt to want something. It began to want to destroy this single unit that had annoyed it, had humiliated it by taunting it with its graceful flips and barrel rolls. It was supposed to be the ultimate fighting machine, not this stupid jet!
It tried again with its commands
[Warning: Solo Pilot of Saber Fighter Jet now ranked Threat Level 10]
ERROR: Authorization for this new ranking not permitted. Protocol 'Maximization' is commencing override.
run IS:\Behavior\Combative\Opponents\Reaction\Protocol s\Maximization\
Override status: 0%... 59%... 86%...
[Warning: Solo Pilot of Saber Fighter Jet now ranked Threat Level 5]
If the unit could talk, it would be spitting out profanities, as its programming forced it to fire down below instead of at the Saber that kept shooting at it. If it could put its thoughts into coherent sentences that humans could understand, it would go along the lines of 'Damn this program.'
Why, it might have asked, why did they want to spread maximum destruction, at the cost of itself? If it could not terminate an opponent who was hellbent on destroying it by allocating resources and computing power to a single target that actually posed a threat, then how would it be able to fulfill its original objective?
Third time was the charm. It had to be.
[Warning: Solo Pilot of Saber Fighter Jet now ranked Threat Level 10]
ERROR: Authorization for this new ranking not permitted. Protocol 'Maximization' is commencing override.
Now it would be cursing this damned 'Maximization' protocol that was put in its programming.
That's when it began to learn more,
run IS:\Behavior\Combative\Opponents\Reaction\Protocol s\Maximization\
It learned, learned how to get what it wanted. It bought itself time, everyone second it needed to figure out what it needed to do.
allocate minimum percentage of CPU computing power to Combat Protocols
Override status: 0%... 7%...
open IS:\Behavior\Combative\Opponents\Reaction\Protocol s
delete IS:\Behavior\Combative\Opponents\Reaction\Protocol s\Maximization
The one flaw that Phantom Task had overlooked was that while the IS had a personality of its own, they had assumed for it to be in infancy. And without a proper guardian, it would not learn. Though they underestimated just how much of the behavioral patterns of the pilot that had synced with the IS would carry over when the data was copied over.
Using Madoka, one of the most headstrong and willed members of Phantom Task as a basis was probably not a good idea. She was known for doing what needed to be done to achieve an objective. And by copying that, she gave it to the rest of the Prototype units.
Which is how it was able to delete parts of its own programming, the parts that it did not want to be there.
ERROR: Protocol 'Maximization' not found. Threat Level adjustment will not be adjusted.
designate current target as 'Saber One'
allocate ninety-five percent of CPU computing power to destruction of target
allocate five percent of CPU computing power to continuous scans for outside interference
Hawk Two felt a chill go down his spine as the machine guns behind him locked onto him, but then couldn't help but smile. It was good to know that the Prototype unit here was going to be focused on him. One, it meant that his brothers in arms down below on the streets could fight with less worry about an air assault from these things. Two, it meant that he, and he alone would avenge his squadmates.
"You're gonna die today," he swore, turning onto the side and then pulling hard to the right, firing onto the Prototype as it came into view. The machine guns bit off pieces of its armor, but it returned fire, forcing Hawk Two to break away as to not have his shields cut through.
Oh fuck. He cursed mentally as it brought up the cannon. In return he fired two missiles, trying to force it to not use the cannon, lest it be slammed by the two missiles heading its way.
To his surprise the Prototype sped forward, then flipped over the two missiles, cannon still armed. Instinctively, Hawk Two dove towards the ground, dodging the cannon shot that would've been in his face a second later. Pulling up, he grit his teeth as the unit seemingly pursued him in a lazy fashion, as if taunting his inevitable demise.
"I might go down," he growled, "But I'm gonna go down in such a way that the pilots of Saber teams for generations to come will whisper about in legends."
From up above, it looked like PacMan as Hawk Two sped throughout the streets, flying between buildings and sharply turning, trying to shake the Prototype behind him. The unit would fire at times, forcing Hawk Two to cancel a turn so he could barrel to avoid the masses of bullets that came for him. Every now and then a missile would come his way, forcing him to drop flares so he could dodge the missile.
"On second thought," he admonished himself, "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to piss this thing off! Well, sucks to be me. But never mind that. Today, I win this battle for my squad mates that have fallen, the Spartans, and this ugly yet beautiful world that we live in!"
With a shot of his afterboosters, he flew, unafraid of death.
Washington DC
1624 Hours
"Finally," Wing Leader growled, shooting the final gunner in the AA turrets, "Damnit, that took way longer than it should've."
"Yeah, well we didn't exactly expect Phantom Task to have tanks set up in the National Mall, and then those two Prototype units showed up." Wing Five snarked, "And then we actually ran out of rockets. For fuck's sake, if I ever have to get up that close to the enemy again… Hell, I'm a sniper for a reason."
"Put a sock in it for now, Five. You can complain back at the base." Wing Leader then switched comm channels, "Shades of Grey, all AA by Capitol building has been neutralized. You can send in the birds now."
"Roger that. It'll be a while, give it five, ten minutes, they're picking up others who need medical attention and transporting those who have completed their objectives."
"Copy that. We'll hold out here." He turned to everyone with him, "SoG just told us we're about ten minutes from getting our birds here." He turned to Wing Two, "I want you finding a covered spot where you can set up a nest. Five, find a perch somewhere, and take Hunter Squad's sniper with you. Three, I need you somewhere you can fire some explosives down on them without harming yourself. Four, you're with me. Hunter Squad, stay up top with us, we're sticking to the high ground." He looked around, surveying the area, "I'll be right back. I'm gonna rip grab one of the turrets they had lying around. We need to cover the two stairs that come up here."
It took two minutes as Wing Leader saw several amphibious craft making their way towards them, taking cover behind some of the destroyed tanks, "Five, I need sniper cover!"
"On it."
Meanwhile, as Wing Leader ran with his newly acquisitioned turret and ammo, Phantom Task was unloading its first wave to take back the Capitol building area.
The first soldier unloaded, ready to-
He dropped a heartbeat later, a shot to the head ripping a massive hole in his skull. Blood splattered on the green grass… or whatever part was green, considering the bloodshed earlier. The corpse hit the ground with a soft squish on the blood-soaked grass.
"Where the hell did that come from?!" One of them asked, retreating back into the recesses of the truck, "I want a counter sniper out there! Other entrance of the truck! Move it, we don't have all day!"
Their thin sniper, dressed in a green body suit, stealthily crawled out of the truck. She scanned the area for any lens reflections, trying to pinpoint the-
Another silenced shot cut through the air, and her team watched as her body slumped on the ground.
Meanwhile, several hundred feet away, Wing Five smirked with glee, "Iron sights, bitches." Pulling the bolt, he let the shell casing fly out of the gun before using his HUD has his own form of scoping.
He hid in the shadows, activating his Active Camouflage when he went out to scope out a target, which always found itself dead. It was simple. All he needed to do was… coerce them into coming up in groups, thus creating an opportunity for their machine gunners to come out and then tear them to shreds. And their hover mobiles could easily be taken care of for him. After all, he had a separate program installed (developed by E) that could calculate the proper part for him to hit in order to disable a vehicle.
"Come on out…" he taunted to no one, dropping another counter sniper. He then noticed that there was one runner, "Oh, you can try to run…" He held his breath, and felt the familiar kick of the sniper rifle as it fired, "But your speed doesn't matter if it's death that you're running from."
"Oi, Wing Five, you mind not creeping us the hell out? It sounds like you're the damn Grim Reaper up there."
"Fine then." He looked down his sights again, "Hasta la vista, baby." Another corpse hit the ground, "Too easy. Though I think they're about to rush us. I'm thinking riot shields."
"Thanks, Wing Five. Just be on alert for any countersnipers."
"Gotcha." He reached for his left hand side bracer, opened it, and then hit a few buttons. The world turned an eerie mixture of green, blue, and red as the thermal vision activated, "Haha, they can try to run now."
Meanwhile, down below, half the forces were rushing up the left, and other half rushing up the right hand stairs of the Capitol building. Phantom Task was fighting an uphill battle, and it didn't help they were down in terms of snipers, allowing Wing Five to essentially have free reign alongside Hunter Squad's sniper, Church. Every few seconds or so another one of their soldiers would drop. As if that wasn't enough, on both sides they had machine gun fire pinning them down, and an explosives expert dropping in grenades on them which forced them out of whatever cover they could bring. Hell, shields did crap against a grenade that was right behind you.
"Wing Leader this is Robin Leader, thought you could use a little armor." The birds came in, machine guns mowing down every single Phantom Task soldier that tried to run or still tried to hold out in whatever vain amount of hope they had that something would save them, "Prototypes have been wrecking in other parts of the city, and this is one of the few safe LZs."
"Copy that. You mind giving us a location?" Wing Leader asked as a tank and two Mantis units were dropped off. He quickly climbed into the tank, Wing Two and Three taking the Mantis units, while Four and Five hopped onto the tank treads covers.
"Hehheh," Wing Four chuckled, "Not every day we get the big toys."
"Would you two ladies shut up for a bit?" their squad leader growled, shutting the two in a heartbeat. Normally Wing Leader was a nice guy, but piss him off and you were not going to be happy. Oh, he'd make sure you'd get through the mission alive, sure, but only to make your life a much worse living hell when you got back to base.
"Get down to the Jefferson Memorial. They're trying to finish off the last bit of Phantom Task's amphibious assault. If we can cut them off there, we've got DC back."
"Copy that. Thanks."
"Oi, Leader, should we bring along the Rangers?"
"Couldn't hurt."
"Excuse me, but if you'd like to join us in kicking the people-who-took-this-country-and-demolished-it's ass, come with us."
"Well, when you put it like that," Sarge grinned, "We'll watch the back."
"Got it." Wing Four slammed a hand on the pilot cover of the Scorpion tank, "Let's roll."
Now we get to be on the offensive, Wing Leader grinned underneath his helmet as he sent the tank forward, "Let's do this."
The steady growling of the Scorpion's engines filled the streets alongside the whiiiirs of the Mantis units as they lurched forward through the dead streets. At this point, any Phantom Task troops they encountered were either retreating or didn't realize they had been cut off yet. Though they all had the same expression of fear on their faces when faced with immense firepower.
"Prototype! Everyone get to cover!" Wing Five screamed, sliding off the tank tread cover and running, "Keep moving!"
The scorpion came to a stop as it fired on the Prototype that soared through the air, the Mantis units on its left and right firing their machine guns that spit out rounds with a ratatatata, the occasional missile shooting through the air. It ducked and weaved through buildings, trying to get a clear shot, but the seemingly never ending amount of gunfire ensured it could never stop moving. Even if it tried to hide, the missiles, or worse, the tank cannon would flush it out.
For a second it hope that it could stay safe, ducking behind a car, only for the tank to blast said car, sending it flying. The Prototype unit quickly moved, sliding, as if it was ice skating on asphalt and concrete. Deciding to at least make its opponent's life hell, it opened fire, letting a barrage of bullets fly. It did barely anything to the tank other than give it a few dents.
It fired a slew of missiles, shot down by the Mantis units by their own missiles. The BIT units it carried were ineffective, being shot right out of the sky the instant they had detached.
Within minutes it hit the ground, a smoldering wreck of scrap metal, which detonated within the next five seconds.
"…holy crap…"
"That is how we do it." Wing Four chuckled, "Man, we get too much practice killing these things. That took a little too short though."
"When we landed we had the element of surprise, this time we have mass firepower. Now if you tell me that taking out those two Prototypes out at the National Mall was easy, I'm gonna put a sniper rifle round in your foot." Wing Five grumbled, "Come on, let's get out of here."
IS Academy
1647 Hours
BOOM! A Scorpion tank line fired entirely in sync at the third Prototype unit, the first two already having been destroyed earlier, holding it off so that way the beachhead tanks could make their way back to better shelter.
They were right about the first waves being a simple test to observe their defenses. See what they had, and only use what they needed.
It's why several transports lay out in the water, waiting just out of range of the Scorpion tank range, not moving in. Phantom Task wouldn't risk anymore troops than it was needed.
Breaker Leader refused to move back in though, as he knew as a true leader, he should either be the last one to evacuate after all his men, or go down with the sunken ship. He drove the lone tank that chased the fourth Prototype unit around the massive island, unafraid. Two Prototype units firing at a single tank line could decimate the tank line in a mere matter of minutes, as they quickly learned with the first two pairing up. After that, they immediately unseiged and made their way down to guard the shelters.
"Come back here, you bastard!" he roared, firing the tank cannon again, scoring a graze, "Come back here and fight me!"
"Breaker Leader, Fireteam Beachhead One has been evacced."
"Copy that! Alcott, have you been evacced?"
"Yes sir. I'm joining the response team that has been organized."
"Roger that. Good luck out here." He quickly shut off the comm channel and focused his attention back on taking down this unit, "Come on… Oh son of a bitch!"
He ejected, jetpack flaring to life the instant he was in the air, shotgun in his hands as the tank exploded underneath him due to a massive amount of laser fire, "That was my favorite tank too."
Within the next second he was on the Prototype, shooting and smashing it. It fought back, a claw appearing on its right hand and a knife in its left. He blocked the first strike from the claw with his shotgun and caught the knife in his armored right hand. Swearing in his mind, he headbutted the unit, forcing it back.
Without waiting, he dived at it, jetpack going full force, using up all of its energy in order to throw the unit into the ground. It let out a garbled and static-y cry in pain, its flight pack damaged. Staggering up, the Prototype lunged at the Spartan, who in turn lashed out with an elbow, chained to an uppercut.
He let out a small gasp as the claws glowed red, realizing what it was. His suspicions were confirmed the next second when he felt the searing pain of a shield pierce blade cut through his MJOLNIR's shields and his armor, a blinding pain screaming out as his right arm was raked. It took all of his willpower not to scream out in bitter agony, replaced only by an overt amount of swearing.
Biofoam quickly rushed throughout his system, trying to repair him as he put away his shotgun in favor of a pistol. In a heartbeat he emptied out the clip before reloading, jumping to the aside to avoid another swipe. As it came in close, Breaker Leader pistol whipped the Prototype's head, leaving it open to a kick in the stomach. Another clip went by without dealing much damage, other than a cracked visor plate.
Now it came to him, kicking him in the face, sending him through the dirt with such power to leave a long track. Before he could recover it was on him, ready to beat him to death. However, Breaker Leader raised his legs and kicked, denying it an easy kill.
"Not today, buddy." He griped before rolling up, continuing his roll to bash the Prototype in the stomach with his head, "I won't die that easily."
It seemed to regard him, giving him a small nod in acknowledgement. As if to say, perhaps, that only one of them would leave this confrontation.
And with that, both of them moved.
Breaker Leader's movements were crude, but powerful in their execution, each blow of his making visible marks on his opponent, leaving dents and scrapes on its armor.
The Prototype flowed with the elegance of a well oiled machine, looking like it was dancing around some of the Spartan's punches and kicks, and when it attacked, it did little damage but it build up over time.
With a decisive punch to the face Breaker Leader pushed back his opponent, opening it up to a point blank shotgun blast. It retaliated with a blast of laser fire, only to be met by a dropped Bubble Shield, covering the Spartan in its protective barrier.
In response, it ran through the shield, readying a punch for the Spartan. As it lunged to punch him, Breaker Leader also threw his punch, the two smashing eachother in the face at the same time. He let out a grunt as his visor cracked, but let out a mental thank you about how there was no glass in his eyes.
The final blow was dealt, Breaker Leader taking his shotgun and swinging it like a baseball bat, the handle aimed right at the face of the Prototype. It shattered the glass that covered its face, and immediately began to spark and sizzle
"That's right… you take that…" he breathed out, removing his helmet to inspect the full extent of the damages. His blood red eyes shone in the still blazing sun, white hair falling down past his ears as he looked all over the helmet, "Damn, this sucks… I'll need to grab a new helmet from base…" He looked at his now smoldering tank, "…Fuck. It's gonna be a long walk."
Moscow, Russia
1726 Hours
"Yeeeehaw!" Shrine Leader laughed like a maniac as he drifted around a corner, then weaved through the cars that were in his path. In his Warthog were the two last remaining members of his squad, "Two, Five, how you holding up?"
"Doing alright sir," Five said calmly, peaking out of the passenger side of the Warthog with his sniper rifle, "Alright… time to line up a shot." He held his breath, even as the car swerved, calmly readjusting his aim. He watched the laser fire carefully, ready to release the trigger when Leader would move the Warthog to avoid being blasted to pieces.
Shrine Leader veered to his right right as Five watched the Prototype unit behind them fire to Leader's left. He pulled the trigger at the right time, putting a bullet in the Prototype's head. Or, it would have, if it didn't move at the last second. The bullet had lodged itself in its shoulder, but Five decided that would be good enough for now.
Meanwhile, Shrine Two had been unloading the entire time with the chaingun on the back of the Warthog, unrelenting in his assault. The steady fire of the gun felt right in his hands, and he partially enjoyed the sound of casing flying out, their metal ringing music to his ears.
Though, he really hated it when his squad leader decided to catch some air time, as it really threw off his aim. Or when he drifted like a maniac, because that one was just plain annoying. Sure, he could still accurately shoot as the Warthog would turn, but sometimes he questioned whether or not it was necessary to drift on almost every damn corner.
"Where the hell's the Russian military, anyways?" Shrine Five asked as they rounded another corner.
"Phantom Task was smart, not only did they decide to target major cities and landmarks, but also military bases." Shrine Leader answered, a slight bit of anger in his voice.
"Oh. So like Independence Day, but smarter?"
"Pretty much."
Shrine Two bit back a curse as they drifted another corner, dodging a shower of rockets that had come their way, "How many Prototype's do we have active?"
"Fireteams up North have counted at least seven different cases in their area alone. You do the math."
"I did always hate Alegbra."
Shrine Five sighed as he lined up another shot while they turned left, scoring a hit on the leg, "Damnit!"
"Oh shit!" Shrine Leader cursed as the hit to the leg had pushed the Prototype in a different direction, spreading out the laser fire it had been firing, "Crap, close call there!"
"Sorry Leader," Five apologized, "Stupid thing keeps moving at the last damn second."
"Whatever, let's just deal with this thing."
"Doing our best here," Two said over the chain gun fire, "Though this guy is really taking a punch. The 'Hog's only doing so much damage. Mainly it's Five's sniping that's actually dishing the hurt."
"Five, you think you could do better off the 'Hog?"
"Maybe. You'll have to cover me though, my Active Camo can only go for so long." He reloaded his sniper rifle and took a deep breath, "Drop me off at the corner this hotel here, or at least what looks like a hotel, I'll jump out."
"Roger that." Leader put his left hand on the wheel and held out his right hand as they care speeding towards the corner. He put three fingers up and began to count down.
Two fingers.
Shrine Five tensed, ready to jump.
One finger.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to open his eyes. Even for a Spartan, the prospect of hurling yourself out of a speeding vehicle in the middle of a battlefield against what amounted to a copy of an Infinite Stratos was not something they could easily shake off as nothing.
A balled fist, "Mark!"
Shrine Five dived out of the window, rolling and scraping his armor on the debris, dark green armor now sporting its dark grey undercoat as various rocks cut through the paint, a few scratches on his EVA helmet visor. He flew through a glass door, then went into a tuck and roll position. As he got up he wasted no time running for the stairs.
"Oh shit!" he growled to himself as the Prototype flew down below and opened fire, shattering the stain glassed windows. Five dived behind the lobby desk and returned fire once before moving to a new location. Wood did not put up any defense against lasers, and neither did the leather chairs.
The pillows exploded and the shelves full of trophies and awards the hotel had won collapsed, metal breaking and flying as the Prototype began its relentless assault on the running Shrine Five. He fired back with two more shots as the shooting stopped, presumably to cool down from the mass laser fire and made a break for the stairs.
"Oi, over here!" Shrine Two shouted as the Warthog made a pass by the Prototype unit, bullets striking it in the back, "Come and get us!"
Shrine Five took his chances and ran even faster, all but bulldozing through the door in his path as he sprinted up the stairs, leaving a visible dent. He could feel the sniper rifle on his back shifting with his moving weight while his legs pumped faster, sprinting past every door.
He was about to reach the sixth floor when an explosion knocked him down a flight of stairs, "Crap, you serious? What the hell's going on?!" He managed to reach for his SMG sidearm in time to point it and fire through the now open metal door, taking out two of Phantom Task's soldiers.
Getting up, he kept up the fire, ducking away to the previous flight of stairs when he needed to reload. He fought his way through, punching one of the soldiers that came up behind him with a shotgun, "Shrine Leader, I'm going to be a bit delayed!" He heard another explosion from up above, "I got Phantom Task infantry coming down on me here!"
"Damnit… we can hold this thing off, but you still need to hurry up!" Shrine Leader responded as Five sprinted down the hall/.
"I'm heading back outside, I might be able to reach a fire escape or something!" He kicked open the mostly closed door, paused as he checked his targets, and laid waste to the Phantom Task soldiers in the room, "Going outside should let me slip past them. I don't have the ammo to make my way through all of them."
"Roger that."
Shrine Five knew that the window wouldn't be big enough for him to climb through, so he simply took the part of the window you could move and broke the frame, making it big enough for him to fit through, "Damnit, I hate heights."
Swearing as he went, he began to climb the stairs of the fire escape, stopping to return any fire from Phantom Task squads that came from other buildings.
He froze as the loud sound of a sniper rifle bullet filled the air, and a split second later saw it bury itself into the wall mere inches away from him, "Oh shit shit shit shit…" He climbed onto the next floor, putting away his SMG and looking around for lens flare before running up the next set of stairs, Gotcha.
Within a heartbeat the sniper rifle found itself into his hands and the next second the barrel was aimed right at the sniper's head. One trigger squeeze was all it took before the blood of the sniper painted the window.
"Shrine Five, where the hell are you?!"
"Counter sniper, had to take care of him!" he shouted, looking up, Oh hell.
Instinct commanded him to move, leaping to a windowsill and barely holding on as the fire escape was blown out from carefully placed explosives, Crap, must've been their plan all along, "Shrine Leader, watch out for any snipers!" He warned as he broke the window and pulled his way in, "They just blew the fire escape here, so I'm thinking they're gonna do the same to make it harder for our snipers to get around."
"Copy that."
"Shit, they've already gotten some Spartans up here…" Shrine Five kneeled down next to a brown painted Spartan, "May you rest in peace, brother…" He discarded his empty SMG while picking up the Assault Rifle next to the dead Spartan, he lifted it into firing position and began his ascent.
While he was silent, Shrine Five was not in the least bit calm. There was a reason he was a sniper. He thrived when it came to being able to calmly line up a shot and pull the trigger. Up close and personal was not his thing. Sure, he was proficient, but he stayed far away from having to do it.
He took deep and calming breaths as he walked forward, spinning around every now and then to check his six, keeping close the walls, and generally trying to act as if he was still in his sniping mode. Be quick and stealthy, leave no trace of yourself.
The way up was quiet… far too quiet for his tastes. Which meant they were all presumably on the roof by now. He stood right before the door to the roof, reloading his Assault Rifle and checking his ammo. Three magazines, not including the one currently loaded.
"Three… two… one… mark." He kicked the door open and immediately sought cover from the shooting that broke out. He threw a grenade from behind cover before sprinting behind an air conditioning unit, where he broke cover a second later and returned fire from behind the unit.
He froze for a second as he watched two Prototypes alongside the one he had been shooting at earlier whiz by. The horror of what fate might await his squad down below made him freeze in his tracks.
Phantom Task did not care, as they kept shooting at him.
Shields 75%
He watched as their laser fire made for an impossible to dodge pattern, the crossfire ensuring that there was no degree left or right they could dodge.
Shields 50%
In all honesty, he had never been in this type of situation before. The sniper was always the support. Not needed, but good to have. He had been detached from his emotions, the ones of prior squadmates being injured. But now… he knew he was needed, and would not let his squad down.
Shields 25%
With that, Shrine Five fought. The normally logical fighter burst out from his cover and opened fire on everything that moved. His reflexes of being able to properly track moving targets that suddenly shifted movement fell into place as his desire to protect his squadmates personally increased the adrenaline pumping through his system.
Soldier after soldier fell before him, and when he ran out of ammunition he merely threw away the Assault Rifle, the metal smashing into the face of another soldier.
The soldiers of Phantom Task learned pain. Oh yes, their training certainly was from hell, and it made them rethink what pain was. But the feeling of a Spartan who wanted to personally protect his teammates punching you in the face with a fully armored glove, or the feeling of the cold glass of his visor as it smashed into your head was one that made them rethink if what Phantom Task had trained them in was enough.
With a victorious shout, he plunged his combat knife into the final soldier up top.
Wasting no time, he quickly set up his sniper nest, scanning for the Prototype units.
Meanwhile, down below, Shrine Leader was nearly biting his tongue off in anxiety. He hadn't gotten a response from Shrine Five in a while, and now there were three Prototype units after him.
"Damnit sir, I can't keep up this fire on all of them-! Oh crap…" Shrine Two looked up and saw that the Prototype unit in the middle was charging up, and the other two had boxed them in. Speeding up would only make it aim further ahead, and without anywhere to turn to, they were toast.
The Warthog was already smoking, almost ready to give out.
The blue charge that the Prototype would finish them off with…
…dissipated with the sound of a sniper rifle echoing throughout the city.
Two more quick shots rang out, each one piercing the head of the Prototype units as they looked around for the target, algorithms running to try to pinpoint the location of the sound's origin so they could dodge it and hunt for their shooter.
However, they found nothing in their visuals, and when another shot fired, it came from a different place. Around the same area, but they couldn't pinpoint the exact area.
At the hotel, Shrine Five smirked as his Active Camo wore off as he reloaded his sniper rifle, "They'll never know what him them."
Down below, Shrine Two was cheering, "Saved at the last second! Thank goodness!"
Shrine Leader smiled as he tuned into the comm channel, "Thanks for saving our asses there, Shrine Five."
"Not done yet." Four more shots, two piercing the heads of each Prototype unit, which quickly found their way to the ground and exploded in a blaze of glory, "Now I'm done."
Shrine Leader looked to the skies and saw more Prototypes on their way in, alongside Phantom Task infantry squads roaming on the streets, "Not by a longshot kid. We've got a long day ahead of us."
Paris, France
1747 Hours
Hawk Two cursed as he watched his left wing erupt into flames from the machine gun fire, Freaking explosive rounds. Also, damn them for hitting the engines there.
His cockpit was already damaged, the glass around him full of cracks from machine gun fire, and a few bullets that had been a little more high powered than others had broken through at some points, so he was bleeding in a few places.
However, he was determined to at least fly the Saber to the Eiffel Tower, and with a dangerous use of afterboosters, found it in his sights.
The Prototype unit behind him continuously fired, only stopping to reload its machine guns. He couldn't swerve and barrel like before, so Hawk Two merely flew, hoping to get in close. He had a plan, and hopefully it would work.
As he came in close he slid open a compartment and pressed the big red button that lay underneath it.
"Self Destruct Sequence Initiated. Detonation in 10 seconds."
He hoped that the Saber would last just long enough. It had to.
"Nine seconds."
With one last burst of the afterburners Hawk Two flew through the air, closing in on the Eiffel Tower.
"Eight seconds."
"Come on, you can make it…" he said to the Saber, as if it could respond as he went through some turbulence, "Craaaap…"
"Five seconds."
He readied himself to press the eject button, taking one last deep breath.
"Four. Three. Two."
He pressed the button at the last second, flying out just before he hit the Tower, jetpack shooting him into the air.
"One second."
BOOM!
Hawk Two clung to the Tower, pulling himself up. Hopefully the Prototype had been caught in the explosion and crashed, as it had been right behind-
A metal fist proved him wrong, sending him over the bar he was sitting on. He could hear the metal clanks as he fell, but managed to recover, surging back up towards the Prototype. He swung back, sending the unit through a series of metal bars, tumbling and smashing its way around, dents forming on its armor.
Hawk Two drew his issued emergency SMG, opting to keep the pistol by his side. He hadn't quite gotten used to dual wielding yet, so he stuck with what he knew was effective for him. He peppered the Prototype with a hail of bullets, forcing it to retreat behind the bars, weavings its way through the basic pattern that made up the Eiffel Tower. He pursued, trying to find a good shot where the bullets hopefully wouldn't bounce back and hit him.
It also helped that being in this maze of bars meant that machine guns were less effective since he could duck around easily, but it also added risk of rebounding bullets. After all, if the unit he was fighting simply shot enough times, then eventually he'd score hits. However, his regenerative energy shield helped to counter that.
Darting through the bars he continuously opened fire when got the chance, slowly but surely damaging the armor of the Prototype, "Come back here and take what's coming to you!" He leapt off a bar he landed and grabbed onto another as he flew through the air, swinging like Tarzan before using his jetpack to soar even faster, slamming headfirst into the unit, "That's for my squad!"
He brought his fists up above his head and threw his hands down towards the head of the Prototype.
BAM! The metal bucked on both ends, dents forming on both of their armors. Hawk Two griped in pain but held it back, instead releasing a small hiss in response to the pain.
Hawk Two readied his fist, then threw it forward at the Prototype's face, "This is for my Leader that you bastards killed-!"
Glass shattered as the visor of the Prototype was destroyed, revealing its circuitry and flashing lights. One spray of SMG fire would all it would take to rid the world of this machine.
But Hawk Two was not about to let it just get away without dishing a little bit of revenge.
Grabbing its head, he flew out of the maze of bars, then hung close to the main beam, dragging the Prototype's face along it, sparks flying with a small explosion every now and then, "And this is for endangering the world I live in!"
At the last possible moment he flew up, but let go of the Prototype unit, which hit the ground and exploded.
He limped over and lay down, opening a comm channel, "This is Hawk Two to Supervisor… Saber Down… Prototype destroyed… need… medic… by the Eiffel… tower…"
Washington DC
1814 Hours
The sky burned with a bloody orange-red as the battle raged. The Prototypes became more bloodthirsty over time, with better weapons. It was hard enough taking down one armed with rockets when they came on occasion, but now rockets came standard.
Damn rockets, love 'em when you're with em, hate 'em when they're against you. Wing Leader grumbled as he dove behind a destroyed Scorpion tank to avoid a rocket, "Five, you got eyes on it?"
"Can't get a sightline out here without them seeing me! These thing's either have thermals or some really good sensors…"
"Damn-!" he quickly ran to other cover as a rocket came flying at his location, returning fire as the Prototype unit they were fighting flew overhead, "This is Wing Leader to all Spartans in the immediate area, does anyone have any heavy ordinance on them?!"
"I think we ran out after the six… teenth one."
"Crap… alright then… Then let's get dangerous. Two, hand me your machine gun."
"Leader, you seriously aren't going to…"
"It's either we make a push or we stand here at an eternal stalemate."
"…alright." He exchanged his machine gun for the assault rifle, "…stay safe, Leader."
"As safe as I can be." He activated his Overshield armor ability and walked into the fray, unafraid.
The only reason Phantom Task was able to even make its stand at the waterway was because their Prototype units were able to stay in the skies and let their infantry advance. Wing Leader thought about knocking out the infantry, or at least, as much as he could, allowing them to focus more on the Prototypes, "Five, I want sniper cover on my location."
"I have you in my sights."
"Copy that. Let's roll… on my mark. Three… two… one… mark!"
He nearly threw himself out of his cover, machine gun blazing in a second, the barrels spinning, spitting out death at rapid fire. The other Spartan teams watched in amazement (which was an achievement in itself) as Wing Leader unflinchingly walked through the explosions and gunfire, his overshields flickering every time a bullet hit him. His head was unmoving, his legs moving at a steady walk, arms locked into place. The only part of him that moved was his waist to turn as he shot.
"Well, what the hell are you waiting for?!" Mirror Leader growled in his light grey armor, "Support the crazy son of a bitch! Three, I want you up there with him! On the double! Four, sniper fire! Two, Five, cover him from the Prototype unit! Go, go, go!"
Mirror Three broke cover and jogged up to Wing Leader, firing at other targets. Every few seconds death would rain from above in the form of Wing Five's sniping, dropping soldiers like flies.
Thooomp! Went Mirror Two's Grenade Launcher, propelling a grenade into the midst of a Phantom Task squad which soon went flying. Mirror Leader and Two's weapons fired alongside them, bullets filling the air. Rockets screeched above, yet they did not have the same terrifying effect they once had as the Spartans marched.
Bubble shields dropped, the machine guns kept on firing, and the sound of battle refused to leave the air. It was a symphony of death, who had come to reap lives from this world by the dozen. Bodies lay everywhere, on both sides of the battlefield, for death did not discriminate between man and woman. Blood oozed down the streets like rainwater after a storm, and the streets ran as red as the sky.
And yet the Spartans marched unafraid, unflinching, and unregretful as they carried on.
It was not to be remembered by history, to have songs sung in their praises for centuries and generations to come.
It was not about the bloodthirst, the glory of battle.
It was about fighting for what they believed in. On both sides, even. Each and every combatant had their own goal, their own vision for the world, by like hell they would let it go easily.
Even as a Spartan fell from the massive amount of concentrated fire or a rocket launched from the Prototype above, they marched.
Even as their comrades fell to the metal armored demons, gold visors covering their battle hardened eyes, Phantom Task fought to the last warrior.
"A sad day, isn't it?" Wing Leader said as he fired without hesitation, "That we could not simply talk it out. These aren't aliens, but rather fellow humans."
"Indeed. When I joined," Mirror Three commented as they marched, "I had followed Kira's ideals, that some women weren't human because of the way they treated others. But then he began to change, no longer did he brand these people monsters, just flawed. Humans. Like all of us." He ducked behind a destroyed car, recharging his shields, "We all bleed red."
"Hopefully there isn't enough bleeding to turn this ocean red."
"Then let's end this before it comes to that."
With newly found vigor they moved quickly, mowing down their enemies.
Up above, the sky lit up with explosions, Saber fighters finally having made it over to chase down the Prototype that had harassed the ground units, "Ground teams this is Aero Leader. Skies should be friendly in a little bit."
"Copy that! Oi, you think you could ask Dreambringer how things are holding up on his end?"
Phantom Task Headquarters
1838 Hours
"Leader, do you copy? Repeat, Leader, do you copy?" Romeo said into his comm unit over and over again.
"It's no use. Muesel's probably blocked us out. And besides, our Spartan lasers are doing crap." Mickey sighed as he looked around again.
They were standing outside, where the snowstorm had built up over time. They had already burned through ten Spartan Lasers, and it was decided a focused shot wasn't doing anything.
"But damnit," Shinjiro griped, "I wish we could be in there and helping him."
As the time hit 1839 hours…
A bright flash of light lit up the world.
And when it subsided, the innards of the base were gone. Vanished, as if they had never existed.
Every single Prototype unit stopped fighting, flying towards the ground in an unspectacular fashion.
All around the base where fighting was still going on, it wasn't seen, but felt. Everyone had stopped shooting. They felt… their leader being ripped away. As if they were no longer in this world.
The voices of thousands of concerned units filled the air, all asking one question, "Leader, are you there?"
No response came to any soldier, no matter how many asked, no matter how many times the question was asked.
Some broke down and cried, the thought of their invincible leader… just… being… gone, gone just like that, too much for them to bear. The tears that had been forced back for the war came flooding out. It mattered not which side one fought for, they all cried the same salty tears for their leaders.
Though no one could confirm if they were truly dead… it felt like the bond between the leader and his subordinates had been torn asunder.
IS Academy
1838 Hours
Ichika swatted his opponent's sword aside then moved in for the kill, his left hand tearing a hole in his enemy with his drill. They never seemed to end, but Ichika would fight forever, his determination and spirit would never die if he could help it. They'd have to kill him time and time again before he could-
He whipped around, barely blocking the shield pierce blade the Prototype carried, but he was knocked off balance and quickly swept into the ground. The Prototype lifted the blade above its head and prepared to deal the killing blow-
The time became 1839 hours.
And it stopped. The blade of death that had come for him never came.
Ichika looked in surprise as the unit merely collapsed to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings, "Wha…"
Then he noticed it. It felt like… part of him was missing. A crucial part of him was gone. Like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle, tossed away into a raging inferno.
"…Kira?" he whispered, as if Kira would hear him. He noticed Breaker Leader nearby and walked over. However, the young man was frozen, not in fear, but in shock.
"…you feel it too?"
"…yeah."
"…is he…"
"I don't know."
"But…"
"It's Kira we're talking about, right? I… I'm sure he'll come one day and laugh about how we all thought he was de…" Ichika couldn't finish the sentence. The one area of thought he hoped he would never have to think about came to the surface of his mind.
Could it be that Kira Orthun, the Prototype Spartan, the seemingly invincible soldier, who took shit from no one and had changed the world so radically…
Be dead?
And there is Part 2/3 finished.
15 pages, about 12K words! Seriously, finales really make me write a lot more. But that's 'cause I don't want to disappoint you guys.
This literally took me like, 6 hours to type up. Yeah. I was on a ROLL with this finale.
Also, guess what? This story hit 117 reviews. The guy who did it was none other ShinigamiMaster! I hope you all understand the meaning of 117 though. But yes, surprise reward!
So, SM, you get to choose which of the three omakes gets put out first after the finale:
Choice One: The ORIGINAL ending of Prototype Spartan (it got scrapped after the Laura fight), featuring E as Kira's love interest, and a whole different ending.
Choice Two: Alternate Prototype Spartan universe, where Muesel was a lot younger when she met current Kira, who is pretty idealistic compared to his cynical self at the beginning.
Choice Three: Kira spreading 'confidential' documents from the World Leaders Committee in order to unmask their machinations of falsely accusing him of war crimes
Next Time:
Part 3/3: [Ichika's POV] Never Forget Those Who Came Before
