Chapter 27: December 7th, 1941

Note: The situation of the Earth is still the same as it is now, the rich are getting richer than the poor are getting military draft.


Imperial Palace, Neo-Tokyo, Greater Japan, 2069

"What are you doing this late at night, Shizuka ?" Asked the 82-year-old Prime Minister of Unified Kingdom of Greater Japan and Taiwan, Yōji Itami.

Shizuka Itami, the first daughter of the famous war hero Yōji Itami, was a popular television personality.

Due to her unique position as Emperor Hisahito's wife, and her father's connections and popularity, she gained insight into the Great War Era. She had published several award-winning books including three war memoirs.

Looking up at her father, Shizuka smiled. "Hi dad. How are you doing lately ? As you see, I just want to finish the opening for my new book."

"You need to take care of yourself more Shizuka, you know your mother will be worry if you stay up all night." Itami said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Daddd... I'm not a child anymore, I already have three children, two of them are in college, I can take care of myself. Jeez, you sound like mother." Shizuka grumbled.

Itami tapped her head. "Hey, young lady, even if you're the Emperor's wife, I am still your father. Do not speak to to you old man like that."

"Sorry dad-"

Itami approached her desk then asked. "Can I see it ?"

"Sure, dad, here you are."

The Great Earth-Falmart War (2029-49) is the greatest conflict in human history. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that this is the tipping point of human history, the world will never be the same after the war.

The damage of the War is incalculable and with it is the death of the old world order. Even before the Rumbling in 2019 the human race already at the tipping point of climate change, unless upmost effort is committed the world as we know will end in 2100.

And you can guess, no one is giving a shit about the environment after the Rumbling. In just the 10-year period before the Great War, humanity pumped more C02 into the atmosphere than the previous 200 years combined, in an effort to rearm and rebuilt the world. So much fossil fuels were burned that the US rust belt and the north east, Europe as far as the Ural and the Indo-Pacific region covered in thick back smoke of pollution.

It wasn't sure what the people of that time thought, probably nothing at all, they were blinded by hatred, or perhaps they thought that after invading Falmart they would emigrate there and abandon the dying Earth.

The "Mother of all Wars" isn't helping the environment as all, in just 20 years of the war, the earth's temperature has increased by 3 degrees Celsius, not counting the previous 2 degrees Celsius compared to the pre-industrial era in 2029. As a result, the sea level has risen by more than 3 meters displacing millions of people around the world.

The only reason the modern world even survives is thanks to ULTRON godlike technologies and efficiency. The supercomputer basically run the war economy. What an irony that America, the heart of capitalism, would later become a command economy for its own survival. ULTRON has become the almighty guardian of the human race, but just the American ones to be exact. ULTRON's priority is to protect North America first, it is in its core programing.

Earth-Falmart War from 2029 to 2049 is the bloodiest military conflict in history with unbelievable casualties

An estimated total of 700–850 million people perished, or about 10% of the 2030 world population (est. 8.03 billion). Deaths directly caused by the war (including military and civilian fatalities) are estimated at 500–560 million, with an additional estimated 190–280 million deaths from war-related disease and famine. Civilian deaths totaled 500–550 million. Military deaths from all causes totaled 210–250 million, including deaths in captivity of about 50 million prisoners of war. More than a third of the total number of casualties are accounted for by the dead of the Federal Republic of China and of the Republic of India.

But that was nothing compared to the damage the War had on the Earth's biosphere. There is no word can describe the effects of the War on the native Earth species except Mass Extinction. From 2029 to 2051, it is estimated that 75% or more of all native species on Earth were made extinct. The event affected all continents at the same time.

Despite the event's severity, there was significant variability in the rate of extinction between and within different clades. Species that depended on photosynthesis and pollinated by bees declined or became extinct as atmospheric particles from the Great Scorch ( a massive global bushfire caused by climate change and amplified by imperial magic) blocked sunlight and reduced the solar energy reaching the ground. This plant extinction caused a major reshuffling of the dominant plant groups.

But it wouldn't be fair to say it was all human fault, the opening of the Gate and The Empire also played a big part of the 6th Mass Extinction. The arrival of many invasive species from the Falmart led to many native species on Earth became extinct.

"The oceans are glowing red." They said.

Due to the harsh environment on Falmart, most of the invasive species from Falmart are extremely strong and adaptive, they simply outcompete most species on Earth. For example the "plants".

On Falmart what we informally referred to as "plants", are not plants in the truest sense. They are Chemophyta (lit. "chemical plants"), a phylum of autotrophic symbiotic organisms, roughly equivalent to plants on Earth.

All of the plants on Earth are phototroph organisms while the chemophytes on Falmart are primarily chemotrophic organisms.

Chemophytes primarily gain energy from processing atmospheric Dinitrogen (N2). A trait in almost every branch of Chemophyta (with Necrophyta being the sole exception) is the presence of algal symbiotes within their membrane, which give them a greenish coloration. These algal symbiotes, which are phototropic, supply their hosts with some of their produced glucose for additional nutrition, receiving elemental nitrogen and water given off as waste products from chemosynthesis in return.

Being chemotrophic organisms, chemophytes unlike phototropic plants on Earth can grow in any environments even without sunlight, they just need liquid water and air. The is a very big advantage.

For example: the altiphyta clade (lit. "tall plants" ranging anywhere from 50m to 250m high) that are analogous to common trees on Earth, can grow as fast as the bamboo on earth, which have been found to grow at up to 91 cm (35 in) per day or at a rate of 0.00003 km/h (0.00002 mph).

Similarly, due to Falmart higher gravity and harsh enviromental conditions, animal species of Falmart are superior to native Earth species. The rapid warming of the Earth combined with relentless competition from invasive species has led to a widespread and rapid decline in biodiversity on Earth. About 17% of all families, 50% of all genera and 75% of all species became extinct.

The destruction of the environment and the increasing attacks from the Empire resulted in the greatest socioeconomic change in human history. Humanity was forced to retreat into their fortress cities under the protection of ULTRON, all areas that were difficult to defend or of no strategic value were abandoned.

Increasing lone wolf attacks, rising sea levels and extreme weather condition have created the largest migration wave in history. Hundreds of millions of people from Latin America, Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia have migrated to Fortress of North America, the safest place on Earth.

ULTRON core mission is to protect North America continent and american lives first so the unfortunate implication is the rest of the planet have less protection from the machine-god. They were forced to eat protein bars and have strict rations compared to USNA citizens.

As of 2030-40s, thanks to ULTRON, the USNA was the undisputed hyperpower on the planet, spearheading the development of stronger weapons, vehicles, and Tactical Surface Fighters (TSF); some have called the United States the "Armory of the World". USNA troops stationed on the frontlines continue to fight alongside local forces even as the USNA military leadership explores radical strategies aimed at bringing the Falmartian threat to heel, and at the same time leaving them a world situation with the USNA at the top.

While the USNA remained on the cutting-edge of technology development and created many of the weapon systems that would later become standard on all UEADF armies, the nation as a whole had been spared the crippling attrition warfare that other nations had to face against the Holy Darwinian Empire.

USNA command decision to bombard the second Imperial landing at Athabasca, Canada, spared the North American continent from suffering the same fate as South America, Africa and Asia, allowing them to retain a strong industrial and technological base from which to strengthen their forces.

Despite the great contributions of the USNA in general and ULTRON in particular to the War, the policies set by the government are sometimes reluctantly accepted by other nations, especially those on the frontlines. Political maneuvering and prioritizing of self-interest at the cost of others have earned the USNA no small amount of ire from other nations, and the USNA Armed Forces are sometimes liable to use force as a deal-breaker when they require things to go their way, further souring relationships with other nations.

USNA policies towards foreigners and refugees remain controversial. Despite providing substantial aid to foreign refugees from Europe and elsewhere, uncontrollable events such as corruption in the nations hosting said refugee camps and the USNA's pragmatic view of national policies paint a less-than-friendly light over the United States of North America. While the USNA Armed Forces does accept foreign troops in the armed forces, they are usually drawn from the massive refugee camps with promises of citizenship.

As in 2069, The United States of North America is a monstrously huge behemoth of 3 billion people ( a third of the world population), with more land than all of Russia and thousands of major urban areas.

-A Brief History Of The Fallen Of The Old World And The Rise Of USNA.

Minith Academy, New Miraculum, Falmart's Moon Oisin, 2069

"The drunkard is the bravest of the brave." That was an ancient naval proverb.

While our Holy Empire like to think our soldiers were the bravest, we weren't shy from using enhancement potions. Lelei smiled sarcastically. I guess they just want to make sure.

Lelei approached a rebellious-looking student on the second rows then asked. "Lusako have you ever try White Refrain ?"

Lusako frantically denied. "Of course Not, I've never used Refrain. I swear."

"Good. Do not use drug, young men. As you know White Refrain is a highly regulated psychotropic potion known for causing hallucinations.

Users will relive old memories with significant emotional significance.

It is occasionally used under a physician's supervision to assist in the recovery of repressed memories.

More controversial is the use of Black Refrain in interrogations as a truth serum or to aid witnesses in recalling significant details.

A single dose can cause significant side effects such as nausea, respiratory depression, hypotension, high fever, seizures, and in rare cases: cardiac arrest or comas.

Long term use is linked with cognitive decline, degenerative nerves, Raynaud's syndrome, blindness, and persistent hallucinations.

White Refrain is difficult to detect in the blood, especially off-shoot varieties, which increases the rate of complications.

It also interferes with numerous medications, either increasing the half-life or preventing them from being absorbed."

"Now, everyone. What should you do if you see a Dakaethee or a Quazaq (infamous drug cartels in the city) in the street ?"

"We report them to the knight police." The whole class answered in unison.

"That's right, class, never try illegal potions on the street, even once. It will ruin your bright future." Satisfied with the answer, Lelei turned back to the board.

"As you know, Refrain is just one of hundreds of illegal poisons rife on the streets right now.

"The situation is not good now but this was nothing compare to the Opioid Crisis of the previous decade. This problem can be traced back to the Great War era, the stress of that war was almost unbearable.

"Can you image the life an average imperial soldier, they have to stay underground for months, couldn't see the sun, never knew when their base would be nuked.

"Fighting killer drones, giant robots and every nightmarish things ULTRON and the UEADF threw at them," rolling her eyes, Lelei shook her head to express her empathy. "With all of that, no wonder they stoned out the troops to the point they can't feel jack shit."

"Yes. that's right, the society as we know it was founded on the backs of functional drug addicts. We're not fighting a war unless we're piss drunk the entire time." Lelei boldly declared.

Her students didn't know how to react other than laughing off. In the face of nuclear weapon even the bravest man would tremble. The heat from those mini-sun was unbearable even when you were deep undeground.

And those damn neutron bombs and its accursed gamma radiation, that taste of metal. Even when you survived the blast wave, your body was already toasted at the cellular level, your titan regeneration had to replace every single cell, during that time you would be in horrible agony if you didn't have healing potions.

"If I have to eat rats, crawl in the mud in Siberia and smelling rotten body, I would too use drugs." A young girl said.

"Of course, the Empire isn't the only one who uses psychotropic potion, the UEADF also have their fair share. The most famous ones is Compound B."

The Great Terran Falmart War was characterized by the surprisingly lack of PTSD. The number of UEADF troops having psychological treatment was unreasonably low.

The reason for that was Compound B aka the brave pill. An extremely powerful neural and emotional suppression drug. Soldiers were kept from feeling pain or shock or panic. With Compound B soldiers could calmly talking about losing an arm like it was nothing, or fighting from the prone with their guts hanging out.

There were many story of UEADF soldiers with their legs completely blown off but so calm talking to his teammate over the radio and still managed to shoot back at cloaked enemies while bleeding out and being pinned down by heavy firepower.

They keep on fighting until either their brain or heart blown to pieces or died of severe blood loss. That usually took 35 to 40 minute due to the nanites in their blood keeping them alive.

"Compound B is of course, not a magical drug. Long term use is linked with cognitive decline, apathy, emotional detachment, alexithymia, antisocial personality disorder. But who cares anyway ? Definitely not the pharmaceutical companies or the war hawk politicians. As long as they can fight and the government don't have to pay for their therapist."

It could be said that the Great Terran-Falmart War was a war where the soldiers were armed with drugs as much as with bullets. This was one of the reason why the War lasted for so long. You couldn't feel anything even if you commit terrible atrocities that even the Nazis were afraid of.


A Certain Bar in Yamato, Azjania, Falmart, 52030

Located along the eastern coasts of the Holy Darwinian Empire, Yamato was an important trade hub. Positioned almost literally in the center of the world (as far as the denizens of the Central Continents are concerned) and in a densely populated strait, Yamato is also a center of culture and information.

The skyline of the city reflected this, with bright skyscrapers stretching to the sky. Magical lights illuminated the streets in a number and elegance fitting for what is currently regarded as the greatest superpower in history of Falmart.

In all of Yamato, one bar in particular was quite popular among the merchant and corporate communities. Agents from large companies and traveling merchants settled in this bar whenever they were in town, for this bar was also frequented by the most knowledgeable and talkative of men.

A mere whisper uttered in this bar could send companies tumbling and markets crashing, or provide an insight that could lead to innumerable wealth.

"Did you know, there were rumors that the Emperor summoned The Legendary Winter General Saint Nicholas Claus." An old man said to his 3 companions.

"He is real ?! I thought he was just an Imperial legend." Another man replied.

"He is real." another voice suddenly cut in.

The four turned to the owner of the voice, an old Elf in a red clothes.

"I was there, I was there when The Winter King Krampus was Defeated. My name isn't important, I was just one Elf among many, fighting in the North-Pole defenses trenches on Ra 24th, 51776.

My comrades and I had received word that the enemy would soon breach our defenses and so, within only a few hours of receiving the order, they did. I was part of the Polar-Imperial Fighters, Northern Infantry 123rd, known as the Merry Gentlemen fighters.

It was 98 degrees Celsius below zero. We were held within our snow entrenches, the sound of the Krampusnacht Imperial force's ice guns, ringing overhead. We were trapped; outgunned, out man, and out of time.

We held the line, my elves and I, we held it with every fire arrow and Phoenix grenade we could muster. I remember seeing the foes, marching on our position; The demon army of Krampus, with their dark, red eyes, and hooded war gear, continued to press on toward us.

I remember standing there as my buddy, Alf, took a stray ice spear to the eye, poor guy had his blood and gut splattered all over me. Then, Ralf, had his entire chest cavity opened, by a well-placed ice spear sniper.

Dear Lord Emroy, I can still smell the scent of his insides, all over me, as I held him there as he died. Our wardens, brave man as he was, was out in the middle of no-elf's land, armed with nothing more than a fire sword, with a shattered shield, fighting the devil himself; His supreme, Imperial Warlord, Winter Emperor Krampus.

The great enemy wielded a great, obsidian great sword, which he used to cut down my fellow infantry elves. like a nodophyta tree on New Year's eve. I went to grab my magic crossbow, locking in a fresh clip of 12 fire arrows, and lept from my trench.

The sound of the dead, dying, and fighting, ringed throughout my pointed ears, as milky white tears filled my eyes. I ran and ran, watching as the two combatants fought before me.

It was a few feet later that I raised my Candy-Cane magic crossbow, taking aim at the ice devil made heresy-flesh himself, only to hear the shattering sound of my leg, pierce with an absolute zero-snowball, snapping and splitting my leg in two, like it was a gingerbread leg, causing me to fall upon the cold, blood-stained, snow.

I slowly looked up, watching as Winter Emperor-Krampus took the head of my friend and leader, Wardens Cookie, displaying it for his men to see. He then tossed it before me, with a wicked grin that showed his sharpened, yellow teeth, and slowly walked before me, on his dear like legs red as fire.

He held his sword, freshly stained with the blood of my friend, in his hands, as he hissed and mocked me with that forked tongue, raising the weapon high in the air.

I then closed my eyes, having resigned myself to this fate and to my sins, knowing all was lost...Then, I heard it, the sound of hoof beats, on a winter's snow.

I opened my eyes, blinking away the tears that filled it, only to look and see the face of Krampus and his demons, drenched in the bright, red burning light, that illuminated the battlefield, a look of terror that filled the demonic emperor to his blackened core.

I then turned, not sure if I was dreaming, or if this was still real, but at that moment, I saw the face of my savior, with an army of winged angels at his back.

He was a tall man, built like a Warrior of ancient Scandinavian Empire, dressed in a helm of adamantine, topped with a red hat, and a leather, X crossed chest strap, that held his flowing coat of red, like a great cape.

He rode on the back of a mighty Dragon Reindeer, whose nose burned bright with the red, glowing rage he felt toward those that would bring such sin and corruption to land. His rider wielded a mighty, double-bladed Axe, etched with the dents and notches of enemy weapons throughout its candy-canned colored shaft and hilt.

That was not the gift giver, the milk and cookies eater, that was the Winter Saint nobody ever saw, for fear of his wrath on new winter days; That was Saint Nicholas Claus, The General of Winter, and he had come to settle the score."

Emperor's study room, Ula Pianca (Imperial Subterranean Castle )

St. Nicholas Claus, in his characteristic red armor, kneeling reverently in front of Emperor Molt Sol Augustus. It had been nearly three centuries since the last time His Excellency summoned him to fight the Winter Emperor Krampus.

This had to be an important mission for the Emperor to summon him from his arctic factories. The legendary Santa's Workshop, an estate of his family for the past 20,000 years, where the legendary Santa Claus family and their elves made the toys and presents given out at new year celebration. Even in this disturbance time of war, Santa's Workshop was still a place providing hope for millions of imperial children.

"My Glorious Liege Lord, the Emperor of Darwinia, I am honoured to be at your presence once more. It has truly been a long time, M'lord."

Molt smiled genuinely, a rare sight to say the least, Santa Claus toys were very famous, they were more than just a gift they contained the new year spirit, even the Imperial family, with all of their wealth, love their new year presents. That was the reason even in the time of Great War, Molt made a special exemption for Santa's Workshop, allowing them to continue making toys instead of weapons.

"You may rise, St. Nicholas of House Claus. Your presence is always welcome here." The Emperor said softly.

As St. Nicholas Claus standing up, he asked. "M'lord, for what reason you summoning me ?" He hoped it would be a short mission so that he could return to his toy factory. This is the first year of the Great War, people needed hope more than ever. New Year's spirit would never be subdued.

"A mission worth your talent, St. Nicholas," Molt turned on his magic hologram." A month ago our archaeologists found the first Casket of Ancient Winters, one of three, a relic and weapon that once belonged to the Frost Giants of Jotunheim who used it to vanquish enemy armies and conquer enemy realms."

"The Casket of Ancient Winters, they are real ?!" Even the Winter General was surprised to know the legendary frost giants weapon was real.

Legend said that when the 3 Casket of Ancient Winters combine it would summon 3 continent size snow storms that could cover the entire northern hemisphere for 10 to 14 days (5 to 7 Earth days).

After the storms half of the world be covered between 3 to 7 feet of ice and snow.

Molt intended to use them as a weapons of last resort. When the 3 Casket of Ancient Winters combine their power with the Wind Demon Dragon Mafuga it would lengthen the snow storms up to 80 days (40 earth day ) and plunged the mortal world into a new ice age.

''Do we know the location of the other two Caskets, M'lord ?"

"Not yet, but one of our archaeological team uncovered this a few months ago," the Emperor opened an exquisitely decorated black box. "This is an ancient recording dating back to the first Frost Giants dynasty. The Wizard King believes it contain Laufey's final message to his people and the whereabouts of the other two sacred caskets. Solomon said the other two caskets were somewhere beneath the arctic sea."

Nicholas eyebrows rose in surprise, the Winter Saint, realizing his mission, said. "I would be my honor to lead an expedition team to find the other two Casket of Ancient Winters."

"Good, I expect great news from you, St. Nicholas. Go now, retrieve the other two Caskets of Ancient Winters and bring us victory."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Trench Kingdom, 11km underwater, Spokojny Ocean

Secretary of State of the Navy, Gerard de Tassigny, the 19th Prince of the Empire was a quite good-looking young man in his early 200s with long silver-gold hair and dark indigo eyes. Being Secretary of State of the Navy, Gerard usually wore navy blue in public.

"King Orm, how does your work on the mass produce underwater potion?" Gerard impatiently asked, the survival of the Holy Empire depends on this project.

Orm Marius, the ruler of the Trench Kingdom, a long time tributary state of the Empire, was a men in his 600s.

As a Merman, Orm had fish-like characteristics such as scales and a tail, but had human-like hands, faces, and upper torso. He had green blood, and do not had any hair on his body. King Orm, due to his highborn status, could also breathe air alongside water, his bodies however wasn't designed for movement on dry land.

Upon hearing His Highness, Orm lifted his head and had a bright smile, from his ocean blue eyes you could see hew was a man with a strong sense of justice who cares about protecting the Trench Kingdom and its people.

"Prince Gerard, It is an honor to have you visit this place," The Trench King bowed respectfully and with a silky voice he replied. "You come at the right time, Your Highness. Let me introduce you to the Fountain of Life," Orm showed Gerard a floating orb about 3 meter in diameter with fluidic-like surface, "with this device we can create unlimited amount of LCL "life component liquid", a very concentrated form of breathable liquid, because it is oxygenated, upon being submerged soldier can "breathe" the liquid."

"Can I see how it work ?" There was a glint of curiosity in Prince Gerard's eyes.

"It would be my honor, Your Highness." Orm replied.

"Prince Gerard, as you already know while all Falmartians, regardless of their race, don't need oxygen to live.

But a soldier who lacks air would lose up to 70% of his combat effectiveness.

And unless he belongs to a race that has gills like Merman or using the rather expensive Ba'la magic gems, otherwise he can't breathe underwater.

The solution for that is 'liquid breathing', a form of respiration in which a normally air-breathing organism breathes an oxygen-rich liquid (such as a LCL), rather than breathing air.

By selecting a liquid that is capable of holding large amounts of oxygen and CO2, gas exchange can occur.

This requires certain physical properties such as respiratory gas solubility, density, viscosity, vapor pressure, and lipid solubility which some LCL chemicals have.

Thus, it is critical to choose the appropriate LCL for a specific biomedical application, such as liquid ventilation, drug delivery or blood substitutes.

The physical properties of LCL liquids vary substantially; however, the one common property is their high solubility for respiratory gases. In fact, these liquids carry more oxygen and carbon dioxide than blood.

Although total liquid ventilation (TLV) with completely liquid-filled lungs can be beneficial, the complex liquid-filled tube system required is a disadvantage compared to gas ventilation—the system must incorporate a green magic gem act as oxygenator, a red magic gem act as heater, and magic pumps to deliver to, and remove from the lungs tidal volume aliquots of conditioned life component liquid (LCL).

Liquid breathing offers our land army great option, promising the mobility available with flexible dive suits and the reduced risks of rigid suits.

With liquid in the lungs, the pressure within the diver's lungs could accommodate changes in the pressure of the surrounding water without the huge gas partial pressure exposures required when the lungs are filled with gas.

Liquid breathing would not result in the saturation of body tissues with high pressure nitrogen or helium that occurs with the use of non-liquids, thus would reduce or remove the need for slow decompression.

With the Fountain of Life we will be able to evacuate most of the Empire's population to the safe haven of the underwater world. Where we would be mostly safe from enemy reconnaissance and able to launch our counterattack from the safe bases under the sea.

This device will revolutionize the War. Just imagine, Prince Gerard. If cornered our army can just run toward the sea and dive to safety.

The enemy's bullets can't travel far underwater, even underwater explosion will have minimum impact because liquids cannot be practically compressed, they do not change density under high acceleration such as when an explosion happened."

"Does that make our military more vulnerable to ice magic ?" Gerard suddenly interrupted King Orm long rant with a quite interesting question.

"Hmmm...I guess so, but it not like the enemy have ice magic, so it not a problem" King Orm, looking slightly confused, replied.

In a sense, they both right but what they didn't think of at the time was microwave weapons.

Command Building, Camo Hell-Alpha. Martial Plain of Dysprosium

"When can I take my command to battle, Supreme Commander?"

"Say what?" Supreme Commander Allied Expeditionary Force Liam Nuttall stopped admiring his sixth star and gazed at the massive Chaos Demon in his office.

"I have over 3000 tridents. Where would you like us to fight? Now that we have joined you."

Nuttall looked slightly bewildered. "You and your men are prisoners of war. We don't expect you to fight."

Now is was Abigor's turn to be bewildered. "But we surrendered to you. So we should fight for you now."

"Not according to our rules you don't. When an enemy surrenders, they get put in a prisoner of war camp. We look after them and feed them until the war is over, then we send them back home."

Abigor's jaw dropped open. If Hellish Armies fought that way, both side's foot soldiers would surrender as soon as possible. In The Eye of Terror, surrendering meant changing sides, not a way out of the fighting.

"You humans are impossible."

Nuttall thought quickly. He guessed he would need a convincing story to make sure Abigor forgot any idea of joining the fighting. Anyway, his Chaos Demons would be a liability on a battlefield dominated by artillery and armor.

"Look, the Free Hell Army is much too valuable to us to throw away on a battlefield. We know nothing about the Eye of Terror (that was a lie due to Holy Order intel), what its like and how its run. You can do far more for us by telling us everything you know than by fighting."

Meaning we are useless to the humans Abigor thought grimly, but if that were the case, why was he being kept alive? Still, to be a source of information was better than nothing.

"Excuse me Sir. General Ivan Semenovich Dorokhov to see you."

"Thank you Private. Send him in." There was a brief pause while the Russian entered the room, his jaw dropping at the sight of Abigor's huge form sitting sprawled in one corner. "Ivan Semenovich, it is good to have you with us. May I introduce Grand Duke Abigor, formerly in the service of Abaddon and now commander of our allies in the Free Hell Army."

Dorokhov looked slightly flustered, starting to salute, changing his mind, and wondering what to do next. In the end he settled for a curt nod of the head. Abigor was equally flustered, normally he'd have hit the ground and groveled, throwing in a good foot-licking as well but he'd quickly learned humans had nothing but contempt for such displays. In the end, he returned the nod.

"Are your troops in position, Ivan Semenovich?"

"Army Group Peter is setting up along the banks of the Phlegethon. We have 80 armored divisions, 40 heavy artillery divisions in position with the Army artillery setting up. Do you know how many enemy there are?"

"Abigor tells us 243,000 legions, that's over 2.4 billion Chaos Demons. Don't know how they divide up yet."

"That depends on who is their commander." Abigor's voice was thoughtful. "Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Dagon were the three appointments I heard but that was for the invasion of Falmart. Do you know which?"

"Its not Asmodeus. He's dead."

"What?" Abigor was stunned. "Asmodeus dead? For all his mania, Abaddon has never dared kill a Grand Duke before. He wouldn't even kill me, he preferred to send me where you could do this."

"Abaddon didn't kill him, we did. Or rather, the people we have fighting in the hell-pit did. Apparently he led some of his army against our guerillas, walked into a trap and they got him. Asmodeus is dead all right. Thoroughly blown up"

Abigor was awed. "You have done the unthinkable. In all previous Black Crusader, no Grand Duke was ever killed. Not even the 13 Apostles achieved such a thing (because those cowards always run back to their hole first)."

"So its Dagon or Beelzebub then." Nuttall wanted to get the conversation back on track. "What does that mean for General Dorokhov?"

"It will not be Dagon. Many of his legions are Krakens, sea creatures. It will be Beelzebub. They do not call him Lord of the Flies for nothing. His army has 27,000 legions of Harpies. The rest will just be infantry."

"270,000,000 harpies. I hope you have plenty of triple-A Grazhdanin Ivan."

"One Tungaska or Shilka for every three vehicles. And many brigades of surface to air missiles. Some old but they still work. All radar-guided. And all the BMPs have shoulder-fired missiles on board. Sometimes it is good to have great warehouses. We are dug in and waiting."

Suddently a young girl voice cut in-

"Oh Emroy, Look who we have here ? A big dog from the Land of The Eternal Damnation."

The voice belonged to Rory Mercury, an important ally of UEADF in the war with the Neverborns, "One of a few good Falmartians." they said, at least that was the official story. Both side knew this alliance won't last forever but at least for now the alliance stood.

Nuttall looked over at Rory, frowning. "I must remind you Abigor is a prisoner of war, please refrain from insulting or harming him."

"Yeah, yeah..I know. I just want to have a small talk with him. Really!" A devilish smile was on her face.

Outer Ring, Seventh Circle of Terror

What amazed Aeanas the most about his time in The Eye of Terror was the fact that he remained sane. He knew his name. Remembered his family. His wife, his two sons. Remembered dying. Knew that he had been in The Eye of Terror for a long time(though the exact length of time remained elusive). And his torment never drove him insane.

Perhaps that was the most insidious aspect of The Eye of Terror: they protected your mind from shattering. From becoming a shell with no feeling, no thought, no mind. After all, what use was there to torturing the mindless husk? The joy in the demon's faces came when they saw his terror, his fear, Aeanas could see this. If he had no mind, he might scream, but would he really feel the pain?

So, Aeanas feared them every time they came exactly as much as he had when they first set themselves upon him. Throughout the ages of screaming agony in the river there had been no emotion associated with his sufferings. How did it feel to have his skin seared from his body, his eyes boiled in their sockets, his genitals burned away? He could never grasp these; such memories danced just out of reach.

That was the rub. If he could remember what it felt, perhaps he wouldn't fear the demons so much. But in the heat of the moment, any kind of mental preparation he had made vanished into a cloud of palpating terror and pain. He always begged not to be thrown back into the river, a simpering weakling, utterly without shame or pity. He screamed the same pathetic, high-pitched scream that he let out every time his body hit the flaming lava, the kind of blameless, ringing screech that only mortal injury and mortal fear can evoke.

Except it wasn't mortal in this place; each time he escaped from the river, Aeanas was made whole again. Somehow. He really didn't have time to think about it, because the respites between tortures seemed fleeting and ephemeral at best. Sometimes he saw others tormented as he, but that really didn't matter.

He was dead.

This was Hell.

And this was how he was going to spend eternity. Each soul-rending abuse seared him but did not destroy him. The memories were not his to cherish. He would never know the wondrous oblivion of insanity. He was instead doomed to repeat every torment as though it was his first, though he knew this wasn't the case.

So, as Aeanas sprawled on the bank, writhing from his burns but never dying, he was in the full grip of panic. His eyesight was only coming back and he would have screamed if he could, if his lungs had not been seared to uselessness. Breathed if he could. Instead, the hard earth of The Eye of Terror smashed into Aeanas' flailing form.

He nevertheless attempted to scramble away. From what, he couldn't say, because he couldn't see more than a few feet. And he couldn't get very far, because he still couldn't breathe. Then, at once, the choking fume and heat were gone. Reflexively, he gulped in air. The sulfur-laden fumes did nothing good for his lungs, but breath was breath.

Based on his fuzzy past, he expected perhaps a barrel of molten rock to be poured over him it didn't happen. He opened his eyes, and he saw a hand. But this hand wasn't scaled. It had no claws. It was a human hand, as his own.

Following it up, he saw its owner: a man, naked, stood before him. In his far hand was a spear-no, a trident, but beyond that, the visage of The Eye of Terror faded to a blurry, ruddy nihility.

Aeanas reeled and tried to scrabble away. What new torment was this? But the figure snatched Aeanas and hauled him to his feet.

"It's alright!" he said in a language that wasn't Aeanas'. But yet, he understood it. How could that be? "What's your name, soldier?"

Aeanas gulped. His throat, long charred by the heat and flames, was already feeling better. "Aeanas," he replied finally.

Anus?!" another voice shouted. A similarly-naked figure, also carrying a trident, stepped under the tree, into the range where Aeanas could see clearly. "Your name is Anus?!" The man roared with laughter.

"Cool it, DeVanzo," the first man snapped. Again, Aeanas was forced to marvel at the fact that the two were speaking an entirely different language than his own. The first man continued: "He said, 'Aeanas.' That's Greek, right?"

Aeanas nodded, then asked with some timidity: "Who are you?"

The first man started. "Oh, right! Name's Tucker McElroy, from Tennessee originally, though most recently I found myself in the molten river a ways that way. This uncouth gentleman's name is Artie DeVanzo, from New Jersey."

Aeanas nodded blankly. New Jersey? What was that? Where was Old Jersey?

McElroy regarded Aeanas for a moment, then said, "Say, you ain't a new arrival, are you? How long you been here, son?"

Aeanas shrugged. "I…could not tell you. A long time, I am sure."

"Well," DeVanzo said, stepping in, "how did you die?"

"I was struck in the heart with an arrow," Aeanas said. "Then, I believe my throat was cut."

McElroy whistled. "Ain't that a way to go. What was you doin'? Hunting? I didn't know they did that over in Greece."

Aeanas shook his head, his puzzlement now building into a frustration. "Of course not. I was in battle!"

McElroy did a double take. "Battle? Just how old are you, anyway?

Shit, no one's used bows and arrows in battle for five or six hundred years!"

DeVanzo then interjected. "What battle were you in? Where was it?"

"It was in Greece, at Thermopylae," Aeanas said warily. Were these demons, trying to trick him into revealing something? What could they be after?

McElroy's eyes went wide, as did DeVanzo's. "Holeeeeee shit," McElroy said. "You died at Thermopylae? The Thermopylae? King Leonidas? Xerxes? The Persians? The Spartans?"

Aeanas nodded. "Yes. Do you know of it?"

McElroy snorted. "It's only one of the most famous battles in history!"

Aeanas shifted his weight. He fear was actually abating. Were they trying to lull him into sedation? "Why?" he asked McElroy in typical laconic bluntness. "It was a simple delaying action. What makes that so famous?"

DeVanzo sputtered, "You faced a million Persians! And there were only three hundred of you!"

"Wrong," Aeanas corrected immediately. "Thespians more than double our number stayed, and we had the Thebans."

McElroy shook his head. "That don't matter none! We got ourselves a genuine Spartiate!" McElroy was now speaking to the other man, DeVanzo. "Man, I can't wait to bring him back to base! A Spartan hoplite from Thermopylae! One of the three hundred!"

Yeah, and the oldest member of the resistance!" DeVanzo chimed in. "I bet that'll give Ori a thing or two to chew on!"

"Ori's another old revival," McElroy said to Aeanas by way of explanation. "He's a warrior called a Samurai, from a place called Japan, that…well, shoot, it'd be outside what you'd know as the world!" The two men laughed easily together.

"Stop!" Aeanas roared. They would get no more from him; they would confuse him no longer. From this moment forward, they paid for information in blood.

He surged at McElroy and wrapped his arms around him. With fluidity that came with years of practice, he wrenched the man bodily into the air and slammed him to the ground. Most importantly, as he rose, he snatched up the trident and advanced on DeVanzo. DeVanzo was obviously some kind of fool; he wasn't even holding his weapon properly. With three swift motions, Aeanas swatted the trident aside, forced it from his grasp, and had a point at DeVanzo's throat.

The man instantly raised his hands, and Aeanas jammed it in hard enough to draw blood. He then rotated around DeVanzo so that he was standing side by side with still-dazed McElroy. Through clenched teeth, he hissed: "Explain yourselves, else I will destroy you both!"

And much to his surprise, both men smiled broadly.

"You know, we could actually use you!" McElroy shouted, brushing the reddish dust from his body. A cut on his knee bled feebly. "Alright, here are your answers: as you've probably figured out, you're in The Eye of Terror. You've been dead for over 25 centuries. That's 2,500 years. The world as you knew it does not exist anymore! You understand? Everyone you ever knew is dead, and probably here, being tortured. You have a wife? Kids? They're somewhere out here or in Heaven!" McElroy gestured wildly at the Hellscape surrounding them. "And they've suffered exactly as you have for that last 2,500 years! Do you hear me?"

Aeanas lowered the trident. McElroy went on, "But things have changed. The situation has changed. We're fighting back, both here in The Eye of Terror, and on Falmart, an alien world we are at war with. We're gonna free as many soldiers as we can, and we'll all fight against The Eye of Terror. Most times, it's modern soldiers, but hey, I can't wait for the guys back on Earth to hear that we got Spartan warrior and a Samurai fightin' with us. Won't that be a trip?

"Anyway, Aeanas, we are the The Holy Front for The Liberation of Netherworld, and we want you to join us." McElroy held his hand out.

Aeanas paused, but just for a moment, then passed the trident back to him.

"Good," McElroy continued. "We could probably use some more people proficient in your type of fighting. Word is that our cell won't be getting supplied with modern weapons for a while, so for the time being, we're stuck with more… primitive means of defending ourselves and killing demons. Plus a trick or two we've learned over the centuries."

Aeanas then did something hadn't done since the day before he died, over 2,500 years ago: he smiled. "So they can be killed."

"Betcher ass they can, with some holy magic." DeVanzo crooned. "How do you think we got these tridents?"

"So," McElroy continued. "Will you join us? Maybe teach us how to throw a demon like you just did to me? Or maybe how to correctly hold a spear? In return, I'll show you some things that you'd call magic."

Aeanas laughed. "Has anyone said no?"

J-100C, Koala Flight, Approaching Hellgate

"Koala Flight this is Hellgate Air Traffic Control. Come to course three-three-fiver, altitude three thousand feet for Airstrip Delta Approach. You are cleared to use Runway 31."

"G'day cobbers. Everything bonzer down there? Throw another shrimp on the Barbie for us." Squadron Leader Mackay's weapons systems operator gave him a pained look. "Don't blame me, that's how the septics expect us to talk. Don't want to disappoint them now do we?" Mackay flipped back to the ATC frequency. "Don't get in tizzy about us landing, we'll go straight through."

The voice on the air traffic control net sounded slightly strangled."Koala flight, be advised, it is against regulations to fly through the Hellgate. Please land and your aircraft will be towed through."

"May be against your regulations mate, not against ours. Anyway, you can't tow an J-100 like that. Nose is too long and the weight distribution won't hack it. We've got to fly though."

Mackay's WSO looked appalled. "Sir, that is utter bullshit."

"Charlie, I know that and you know that but do you think the liability-obsessed septic down there knows that? That kid wasn't even sound like 18. He's not going to take the chance of these birds getting damaged on his say-so. He'll let us go through, our responsibility, you watch."

"Koala Flight, this is Hellgate air traffic control. At your request, you are cleared for flight transit of the Hellgate."

"Told you."

The four J-100s, three bomber fighter aircraft loaded down with air-to-surface ordnance and an J-100 with a full surveillance fit, dipped down and started to skim across the sand dunes towards the black ellipse of the Hellgate. The book said that the ellipse was 800 meter high and 1,200 meter wide which gave the J-100s plenty of room to make their transitions.

Beneath them, the grassland was covered with armored vehicles, some parked in long lines, others forming convoys through the Hellgate. The J-100s were low enough to see the commanders of the tanks and armored infantry carriers sitting in the turrets, to see them look up as the scream of the jet engines grabbed their attention. Some waved and Mackay rocked his wings in response.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?" Charlie Cartwright was awed by the armored vista spread out beneath him.

"Nobody has, not since the Second Battle of Alnus and not so often then. Every armored formation in the world must be closing in on this place. That's the pattern, armor comes here, infantry stays at home to protect the people back there. You see the roads and pipelines being built as we came in? Hold one, here we go."

The ellipse was approaching with frightening speed but Mackay wasn't aware of having passed through it. The blue sky and brilliant yellow sun had simply gone, replaced by the murky redness of the The Eye of Terror environment. Mackay could feel the engines starting to labor as they gulped air through the filters that kept the worst of the dust out. The plane was shaking slightly as the filters vibrated in the airflow, casting off the dust before it could choke them.

"Watch those engine temperatures like a hawk Charlie. If they start to climb, we're out of here. You got the nav beacons?"

"Both of them. Realigning navigation computer now."

One of the purposes of this flight was to establish a comparative base between the Euclidian geometry of Earth and the non-Euclidian environment of The Eye of Terror.

Once that was done, navigation computers could be reprogrammed and another problem facinghumans trying to fight in this, the strangest of all battlefields, would be solved. As they were all being solved, just taking one at a time.

"Koala-Three here. Cameras are rolling."

"Roger, Koala Three. Any electronic emissions?"

"Ours. The spectrum's full of them. Radar, comms, you name it. Nothing hostile or unidentified."

"Friendly aircraft, this is Dysprosium Air Traffic Control. Please identify and file flight plan."

"This is Koala Flight, three J-100C and one J-100B on armed reconnaissance flight to Dis and the Hellpit. We'll let you know the course as soon as we figure it out. This place just isn't right."

"You're telling us Koala Flight. Good luck."

The J-100 flight soared over the Martial Plain of Dysprosium, heading towards the Phlegethon River that represented the front line of the human advance into The Eye of Terror. That advance had stopped temporarily while the infrastructure needed to support the next phase was being established.

More importantly, there was a lot of evidence that a huge new Hellish Army was moving up against the troops digging in along the river.

That was one of the things the aircraft had been sent in to check. In the meantime, the Russians were digging in, establishing a defense in depth. The central portion of it was underneath them now, a sea of division-sized strongpoints, the arcs of fire of each interlocking in a maze of death and destruction.

Mackay couldn't see them but he knew the gaps between the strongpoints were filled with minefields and razor wire. Backing the whole defense position up was the artillery.

The Russian artillery didn't have the flexibility or precision of its American equivalent but then, Mackay thought, the septics didn't line their guns up, wheel to wheel, for 600 kilometers either.

"We're in hostile airspace now Control."

"We have you on radar, be advised, you are the only friendly aircraft in the area. You can take it as read, if it flies, its hostile. You're cleared to shoot."

"Thank you Control. Be sure to tell the air defense guys on the ground we're here."

"Already done Koala Flight. If they open up on you, it will be in a friendly manner."

"Reassuring that. Charlie, warm up the AIM-9Zs. Be good if One Squadron gets the first air-to-air in The Eye of Terror. Give those upstarts in Six something to chew on."

"Koala-Three here, take a look below us. I think that's the hostile army we were told to watch out for."

"You think?" Beneath them, the ground was covered with a never ending ocean of demons moving towards the Phlegethon River. Far, far too many to count, they turned the ground black with their sheer number alone. Some were harpies, they tried to climb and challenge the racing J-100s but they lacked the speed and the ability to climb fast enough.

"Control, confirm sighting of hostile force moving on the Phlegethon. Rhinolobsters, Chaos Demons, harpies, you name it. Better tell our Russian friends to keep their powder dry.

"Roger, wilco. For your information, its not just gunpowder they Russkies have got back there. Any sight of Dis?"

"Ahead of us now. High stone walls, as far as the eye can see which isn't far in this clag. Looks like an old medieval castle, not the Hollywood version, the real thing. Like they have in Wales. We're going to try and break some glass now."

Mackay dipped his aircraft and headed for the walls of Dis. The terrain following radar was working perfectly as he skimmed the wall, barely a hundred meters over the crenellations. Inside was a town that looked something straight out the middle ages, a tight mass of buildings separated by narrow alley-like streets.

There were Chaos Demons down there, ones that looked up in stunned shock at the monsters that had suddenly crossed the wall and were screaming defiance at all around them as they passed low over the roofs. The demons stood and watched long after the planes had gone, awed by the sight and realizing that things were never going to be the same in The Eye of Terror again.

Unconscious of having caused a spiritual crisis in Dis, Koala Flight arced over the great pit that formed the center of The Eye of Terror.

Mackay looked at the sight below, a supercaldera that would be a vulcanologists dream but represented all of living beings worst nightmares. His thumb itched to pick a target and release his bombs on to it but his orders were strict, fire on ground targets only in self-defense or to protect the reconnaissance aircraft.

Still, he could think of the livings that had to be suffering in the nightmarish scene below and he could promise to come back with every pound of ordnance his faithful J-100 could carry."You got all that Koala-Three?"

"Affirmative." Koala-Three's voice was subdued.

"Lets get out of here then." The four J-100s made a gentle turn, trying to cover as much of The Eye of Terror as possible.

Mackay hoped that, down below, the souls trapped there would see them, some would know what they were and they would spread the word.

Humanity and even that formidable Empire were coming with every weapon they could muster and what stood now would not be allowed to stand again.

Banks of the River Styx, Fifth Circle of Terror

"My leader wants to talk, very urgently. Anywhere you wish. It is most important." Rahaby spoke earnestly, the 55th Emperor Charles Zi Augustus had been most explicit with his instructions.

These people, living and dead, were what he had spent twenty five millennia waiting for. A way to fight back against the monsters that ran this place.

"Important for him? Or us?"

"For us both I think. He…" Rahaby stopped speaking her voice drowned out by a terrible screaming howl.

Lieutenant (deceased) Kim Ngan recognized the sky-ripping sound instantly, the sound of jet fighter engines. Even as she looked up, four J-100s emerged from the overcast, their wings stretched out and loaded with bombs, lazily making a turn over The Eye of Terror.

Then, they were gone, on their way back home, just leaving their sound behind. Around her, the living and deceased members of the HFTLN were jumping up and down, cheering and smacking each other on the back. Rahaby looked at them in amazement.

"What is that terrible noise?"

Kim Ngan looked at her, her eyes dancing with joy."That isn't noise Rahaby . That's the sound of Freedom."

Drepung Monastery, Mount Gephel, Lhasa, Tibet Republic, China Federation

As Lakheenahuknaasi emerged from the portal the first thing that hit her was the overpowering scent of a great deal of blood spilled in a confined space. The second thing was that this part of earth was unpleasantly cold. She found herself in a rather small room packed with demon infantry, whose cloven hooves continued to crunch the smashed remains of wooden furniture. This chamber and the others she could see leading off from it were littered with human corpses, most of them obviously torn apart by demon claws. She stepped lightly around them for now and addressed the squad leader.

"I see that you have not so much secured the area as painted it with human blood. Did they give you any trouble?"

"Very little." The demon seemed unsure whether he should treat the gorgon was his superior or inferior. "One of them managed to grab a fire-spear and wounded one of my warriors before perishing. Those bald monkeys don't seem to know holy magic."

Lakheenahuknaasi's gaze followed his gesture. The injured demon was sitting on a broken table, in a white room that reeked of stewed vegetables. His left flank looked like a piece of wood riddled by termites, oozing green blood from numerous tiny holes. As she watched the demon yanked the heart out of a human corpse and stuffed it into his mouth. The dead man still held a fire spear in his hands; a chunk of carved wood with two short black metal rods sticking out of it.

"If you require nothing further?" Some of the demons had slung human corpses over their shoulders, undoubtedly as rations for their victory feast.

"Go. But take that fire spear with you. Baron Trajakrithoth may want to examine its enchantments."

The demon warriors squeezed back through the portal, which promptly closed up behind them, leaving Lakheenahuknaasi alone in the human building. It seemed to be some sort of temple. with a central common area, what was presumably a kitchen (though she could see no cooking fire), indoor latrines (which appeared to have just been emptied) and several rooms full of (mostly smashed) bunks. It could have been a barracks but for the lack of weapons.

A large triangular window showed a sunset obscured by clouds, painting the landscape of rolling grassy hills and forested valleys in a mix of oranges and grays. Here and there beams of golden light broke through and highlighted an outcropping or a stream. It almost looked welcoming save for the sparse flakes of snow melting on the window.

Lakheenahuknaasi could see no other buildings, but if this was an temple worshipers could arrive at any moment. She made her way down the stairs, taking care not to slip on the blood still dripping from step to step. The door barring the main entrance was broken and warped; the triple indentations and the dead human men seemingly still trying to grasp its handle bore witness to a last desperate attempt to escape. Stepping over the body, the gorgon yanked the protesting door open and slipped out onto the moors.

Sure enough, half an hour later Gao Guoliang crested the last ridge and sighted the monastery."Ah, there it is dear."

Trailing behind him, his fiancee Zou Huifang was not in the best of moods."You said we'd be there two hours ago. This is the last time I let you plan the route." She paused, out of breath. "If you bring a map we could be in Drepung right now." Guoliang shook his head. He was beginning to have second thoughts about this relationship.

The couple made their way down the track to the building. What they saw there left both retching for a good five minutes. As soon as he'd regained his senses, Guoliang reached for his mobile. He'd entered the number of the national demon sighting hotline just before they set off, almost as a joke, never expecting horror like this to come to the sacred Drepung Monastery. Five minutes later the first police units were dispatched to set up a perimeter and ten minutes after that the first Tibetan army trucks began to roll out of Changdong Barracks.

Lakheenahuknaasi had long since found a convenient cliff and launched herself into the air. There seemed to be no convenient thermals in this freezing place and she was forced to hook her arm spurs into her wings and flap strenuously for altitude. She became acutely conscious of how conspicuous her metallic bronze scales made her after the first time she flew through a shaft of sunlight and lit up like a disco ball.

Lakheenahuknaasi muttered a demonic curse and wished she'd had the foresight to cover herself in mud. She would've endured the mocking of the other gorgons if she'd known how much safer it would make her feel now.

She considered trying to gain the relative safety of the clouds, but her wing and arm muscles were already tiring and she didn't want to risk accidentally over-flying the target. Instead she flew low, weaving through the valleys and trying to stay in the lengthening shadows.

Though she did not know it, the decision saved her life; air defense control at La Bushasi air base began enforcing a no-fly zone over the area shortly after she descended to an area its radar could not cover. The inclement weather had kept most walkers at home and left the rest disinclined to watch the skies.

The gorgon flew an erratic course through the twisting valleys for the better part of an hour, with only her perception of the planet's strong magnetic field keeping her heading towards the target. Even using that was hard due to the sheer density of psychic emanations in this part of earth.

Clearly the humans had not only learned the art of telepathy, they were using it to constantly gossip with each other. As she flew she saw several isolated farms and the occasional village visible in the distance. Not enough to concern her, but hardly the 'uninhabited wilderness' Baron Guruktarqor had described.

Most puzzling were the lights that speed along the black strips, some constant yellow, some flickering white and blue. They could have been chariots bearing torches, but for their impossible speed and brightness, matching or even outpacing her own aerial progress.

Finally, as her wing and arm muscles were ready to give up she crested a hill and saw a great city laid out before her. It was lit so brightly that at first it seemed to Lakheenahuknaasi that the city was already aflame.

On closer inspection however it was clear that she was seeing thousands of torches, strung on poles, shining out of windows and attached to moving carriages.

This vast sprawling metropolis had to be the target. She could not see the smoke or fires of the forges yet, but that could wait. The immediate priority was avoiding detection while the portal was summoned.

Lakheenahuknaasi glided down to a copse near the top of the hill, keeping the trees between herself and the city as much as possible. Once down she crawled into the undergrowth and crouched shivering under her wings. This world of humans was cold, unbearably cold.

The humans should be thanking me she thought, a nice hellfire lake is just what this place needs to warm it up a bit.' The gorgon began reaching out with her mind, straining to push through the barrier and contact her superiors.

Immediately she was hit by the overwhelming babble of human telepaths. Most of the mind-speech was not speech at all, merely indecipherable gibberish.

Some of it was comprehensible though. Curiously the humans seemed to have found a way to enchant their musical instruments to transmit their notes into the ether. Lakheenahuknaasi shook her head at the thought of wasting energy on such frivolous magery.

Another particularly powerful human mage seemed to be chanting the words 'Lìjí hūjiào kōngjūn' several times a minute, accompanied by jangling chimes.

She spent a moment pondering the significance of this ritual before deciding that it must be just another symptom of human insanity.

Pushing the human transmissions aside, she broke through the barrier to contact Euryale.

The force of greater demon's mind was almost overwhelming. 'This is Lakheenahuknaasi,' she reported 'the human city lies before me. I am ready to guide the portal." Euryale's response was swift. "I am approaching Jorkastrequar now. Keep the link open and focus your thoughts on the city. They know it not, but a wave of hellfire is about to carry those pitiful beings straight into our domain."

Outer Ring, Seventh Circle of Terror

Aeanas continued working with the file; he was nearly through. He'd been worrying it back and forth for some time now, and at last, the left prong of the trident was free. It clattered to the dirt floor of the cave where the right prong lay, leaving only the center on the weapon.

Aeanas stood and hefted the weapon. It was heavy, like the doru to which he was accustomed, and the balance seemed correct on it now. It would make a passable weapon.

The warrior called Ori watched him silently. Like Aeanas, he didn't speak very much, and for this he enjoyed the man's company. He was grateful and loyal to McElroy and the others, but they prattled on like children! Perhaps Aeanas didn't want to like his new companions. Sure, they were soldiers, and they found some common ground in that, but everything about them was alien and heterodox.

As a Spartan, he'd spent his entire life turning his body into a weapon; turning the doru, the xiphon, and the aspis into extensions of his body. Just by holding a weapon, his muscles knew how best to move it so that he might destroy his enemies. There was nothing else to his life but killing his enemies.

But these soldiers from the future-no, from the present-were different. They knew how to read. They spoke of music and art, and of other forms of entertainment that he could not understand. For their purported superiority to other soldiers(after all, they managed to escape where he hadn't), the fact remained: their martial prowess was not their only consideration! In that way, Aeanas thought them similar to the citizen-soldiers of the other Greek cities.

Though, he mused, there was courage in that kind of man. He recalled those Thespians, those brave men who refused to abandon the Spartans at Thermopylae. The night before they all died, Aeanas recalled sharing a meal with a Thespian named Polyphanes, who was by trade an architect. And the morning before the final battle, he and Polyphanes traded cloaks, and was proud to have died with that man's cloak upon his shoulders.

But everything about these soldiers was different. Much of what they said was barely comprehensible, anyway. Whatever magic allowed him to understand their speech was somehow flawed, and much of their slang was indecipherable for him.

But perhaps most oddly, these alleged soldiers didn't know how to fight with a sword or spear! Well, most of them didn't. Ori was a warrior to Aeanas' liking; he was skilled in many forms of unarmed and armed combat. He had received one of his native blades from the living world, and he practiced frequently.

But more than that, he was an outsider, too. He trained for war and only war, so he did not care for art, or music. Like Aeanas, he couldn't even read. Ori stepped closer to Aeanas and held out his hand.

Aeanas passed him the weapon. Ori tried a few maneuvers with it, then passed it back to Aeanas with a grunt.

"Graceless," he muttered. "The weapon should bend around your body."

"Why?" Aeanas asked. "A bent spear is useless to the phalanx."

"What is that?"

"It is how we fight…how we fought," he corrected, casting a glance of disdain at the modern humans nearby. "Heavy armor, large shields. Shoulder to shoulder, four ranks deep." He mimicked the pose of a man in the first row. "Make a wall of shields and spearpoints, and break your enemy upon them. Never let a gap open up in your line."

"A phalanx," Ori said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "How many men wide?"

"As wide as possible. Prevents flanking." They were silent for a moment. "And how did you fight?"

"Many ways. Sometimes I would ride and shoot my bow, or charge with a spear. Others I would simply fight with my katana."

Aeanas held his hand out, and Ori stiffened for a moment. Then, silently, he passed him the weapon.

Drawing it out from its sheath, Aeanas commented, "A longer sword. And single edged. Must be made of iron, yes?"

Ori denied, stating that the sword was made of a magical metal called Mithril.

"So the balance would favor…" he sliced through the air, "…a two-handed grasp. You do not use a shield?"

"Not with the katana. I can parry and counterstrike to great effect with it."

Aeanas nodded, passing back the katana. "I hope to see you slay a demon with it soon."

They were silent for a moment. "And you are proficient in unarmed combat?" Ori asked.

Aeanas shrugged. "For my part, yes. I wrestle. I wrestled."

"I too, grappled. We must spar some time. To test our styles against the other."

Aeanas smiled at this. "It would be a privilege. I am sure you will be more engaging than the others. I threw McElroy as through he were a woman!"

Ori suppressed a laugh. "Yes, they are soft creatures, made so by their infernal weapons. Why need they fight honorably when they can strike you down from a great distance? They're so weak that they may count women as soldiers!"

"Hey, baby dick!" snapped Private Cassidy, skin newly grown, stepping in close to them. "You got a problem with me?"

Ori frowned. Aeanas thought that, wherever this Japan was, their men did not suffer the barbed tongues of their women. But they were a long way from Japan, so…

Ori grunted, "I was discussing with Aeanas the weaknesses of modern men, and how they compensate for this weakness through weapons requiring such little strength and courage that even women can wield them."

"Man, shut the hell up," Cassidy snarled, crossing her arms over her ample breasts. Aeanas thought them unappealing things, the breasts of a peasant woman with a litter of babes to feed. "If it weren't for those weapons, you'd still be cooking in that river!" For a moment, Aeanas thought that Ori would strike her, but the moment passed quickly.

"Alright, can it, you guys," McElroy said, stepping in. "Ori, take your sword and go with DeVanzo and Walsch down to the river. Walsch, you got the rifle." He turned to Aeanas. "Come on, hoss. You, Cassidy, and I are gonna go check out that cluster of villages on the other side of the northern ridge. You can bring your new spear if you want, but I dunno if these things are worth a damn against Chaos Demons." He hefted his own trident, adding, "Better than nothing, though."

From the cover of the forest's edge, they watched the sloping grade down to the river. And waited. For Tom Walsch, it was still strange to think that millions of people were writhing in agony beneath that river at this very moment. And why were they pulling out only military? Odds were extremely low that they'd get no civilians at all.

Perhaps there were only military in this molten river, civilians went to other torments. Then again, the civilian mindset was different. Persons of weak will might simply resign themselves to their torment and sink to the bottom after a few years of failed escapes. In utter misery, they would only move as reflex to the burning, sightless, deaf, pain the only sensation they knew.

Military people of all types would fight, though. Futility didn't matter; that's why military history was littered with otherwise pointless last stands. It might take longer for a soldier to break the way civilians did. After all, Walsch had only been in the river for a scant few weeks before he was pulled out, and he had the benefit of hoping that his persistence would pay off. And it did.

"There's one," DeVanzo whispered. Walsch scanned the shoreline before spotting the creature. It was an act he'd seen a dozen times.

It flopped like a fish for a while, and then, as it became able to breathe and see, it started crawling further up the bank. They would continue until a Chaos Demon sentry happened along, which could mean they'd be anywhere from ten to fifty meters from the river.

This particular one made it about twenty-five before Ori grunted, "Demon. Left."

Walsch chambered a round and waited. He loved this plasma rifle; it was elegant, deadly, and accurate. Though he'd always been an excellent marksman, this thing made it almost too easy. And he had a whole box of ammo to hold them over until the next official resupply.

The Chaos Demon was a typical sentry, sporting a trident and simple bronze armor. He bellowed, as was the wont of these sentries, and charged. The crawling creature, now looking a bit more like a human, stood up and began hobbling away.

"Alright, that's good enough for me," Walsch muttered. He lined up the shot and fired. The plasma bolt took the Chaos Demon in the throat, blowing out just about everything between his massive deltoids.

Pouring blood out all over the packed, burnt earth, he stumbled, staggered, then crashed right at the feet of its target, who watched in befuddlement.

"Chump," Walsch grinned. DeVanzo clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey Ori, why don't you go finish it off, and bring the new recruit back up here, OK?"

Ori frowned, but drew his katana nonetheless and began crossing the open ground to reach his feebly-moving target. It was only seventy-five meters, but he covered it quickly and hacked the demon's head off without delay. As he did this, DeVanzo and Walsch took up a new position, fifteen meters to the north.

"Shit," DeVanzo said suddenly. "Shit shit shit, another Chaos Demon!"

Walsch swung his rifle around. A Chaos Demon within miles of another sentry was unheard of. The patrols were frequent enough to catch the escapees, and that was all that mattered.

That's why they were able to pull this off with a single rifle and a spotter or two. They must be pairing the patrols. They're reacting to what we're doing. This Chaos Demon was not like his now-dead partner.

He did not bellow or scream. He stalked forward at an inhuman rate, raising his trident high. Ori didn't see it coming, and the rescued human was still half blind. So Tom Walsch chambered a round, took aim, and fired.

The shot was hurried, but it was lucky. It winged off the Chaos Demon's elbow, no doubt shattering bone and shredding muscle. He dropped his trident with a roar of anger and pain and stopped, looking for the source of this new attack.

"OK, Ori, time to go," DeVanzo hissed quietly. Walsch took aim and shot at the Chaos Demon, who was now scanning the treeline. He must've spotted them, because he was in motion just before the shot rang out.

Instead of catching him in the chest, he moved just enough to one side that he took the round in the upper arm-the one that had already been shot. He hit the ground hard but got back up quickly.

But Walsch was quicker. He chambered a round, aimed, fired-and nothing happened.

"Shit, misfire." Walsch groaned and worked the action of the rifle. It refused to budge. "Jammed up."

Now the Chaos Demon had definitely spotted them, and he roared a monstrous battle cry. But before he could take a step, Ori was there, blade at the ready, bellowing his own challenge to the massive beast.

"What is he doing?" Walsch cried out, while working to clear his weapon.

"He's starting to believe," DeVanzo stated with awe. "He's The One."

"Now is not the time for Matrix jokes!" Walsch said.

The Chaos Demon only had one good arm, but that meant he retained eighty percent of his deadly ends. He swiped at Ori, but he dodged with blinding quickness and countered with a slice.

The Chaos Demon had the sense to offer his mangled flesh, but he hadn't counted on the blade being of ultral pure mithril imbued with holy magic. The wound seared as the blade bit deep, and the Chaos Demon reared back in shock, kicking at the offending creature with one foot.

Ori was already in position to meet the incoming appendage, and he held his blade firm. It passed between two toes, cutting the webbing there and carving deep into his foot. When Ori twisted the blade and wrenched it free, the Chaos Demon couldn't help but scream.

Now limping, he swiped again with his hand, catching nothing and receiving a flurry of slashes from that wretched iron blade. Ori was without pity or quarter, nor was he stylish. He opened up as many wounds as he could, as quickly as he could, until the demon was attempting to hobble away in retreat.

But there would be no retreat. Ori feigned a lateral slash, and when the Chaos Demon made to block it, he swooped in slow and stabbed up between the plates of his armor, entering at the armpit and piercing to the heart.

Ori received three horrendous lacerations across his back for it, but it didn't matter anymore. The Chaos Demon fell to his knees, limp and defenseless.

Screaming with the strength of a half a millennium of remembered agony, Ori cleaved the Chaos Demon's head from his shoulders in two savage blows. The entire fight had taken less than twenty seconds.

DeVanzo and Walsch looked at each other. "Mission accomplished," Walsch whispered. "Now let's get outta Dodge." The leaped from the forest, DeVanzo running to gather up the wounded Ori, and Walsch to fetch the latest rescuee.

Overhead, there was a berserk scream, one that neither Ori nor Aeneas could recognize. The Americans did and they looked up with elation at the J-100s making their slow, lazy turn overhead.

Secure Facility, Camp Hell-Alpha, Martial Plain of Dysprosium.

"Got them." The intelligence officer had the 10x12 inch prints in his hand. More were still coming over but these were the critical ones, the pictures of the Hell-pit itself. The J-100s had landed a few minutes before and the digitally-recorded pictures had been sent over by fiber-optic cable. Another sign of just how much things were changing; Hell now had computer access, or rather the human army fighting there did.

General Nuttall looked at the prints. "It's a caldera, no doubt about it. A supervolcano caldera. Like the one that's supposed to be under Yellowstone. Must be bigger though."

"Yeah, size ain't a problem for this thing. Explains the foul atmosphere of this place. That thing must be pumping the contaminants upwards. Take a look at these enlargements Sir. Shows what's going on down there."

Nuttall looked at the enlargements and then sharply at the third person in the room, the hulking figure of Abigor."We knew it was bad in there, not this bad. Looks like the Holy Order was spot-on in their description of the place though. More or less." He paused for a second trying to regain his balance. Then, he addressed Abigor. "How could you, how could anybody do this?"

"We must." Abigor's voice was unapologetic. "Our survival depends on it. You kill lower animals to eat, to provide yourselves with food. This is no different, to us you are, were, lower animals to be exploited. So we exploited you to fill our needs."

Nuttall reflected that Abigor was going to have to be very careful how he spoke in future. Otherwise he wasn't going to survive much longer. There was an old Western custom involving a tree and a rope that was likely to be reborn. "This isn't farming for food. This is just inflicting suffering for the sheer joy of it."

"We do not eat your kind just for food although your kidlings are great delicacies."

Yup thought Nuttall, he was going to have to be much more careful.

"Then why?"

"Because we need the energy. The Chaos Gods and us, their creation, are dependent upon the emotions and collective desires of every sentient being of the material universe, especially the hordes of humanity, for their power and continued existence.

As a result, the Chaos Gods strive to convert all mortals to their worship and service so that they may ultimately dominate the universe.

However, if they were to win such a dark victory, it would likely destroy all of reality when the dimensional separation between realspace and the Immaterium broke down in its wake."

Lhasa, Tibet Republic, China Federation

Lakheenahuknaasi flapped clumsily over the vast human metropolis, making her way to the place where she could sense the half-open portal pushing gently against the fabric of this plane. She was freezing, aching and frustrated.

The city was supposed to be a great engine of industry and magic, but she could see no great magic gem mines, no great holy fires or forges nor could she hear the ringing of hammers on anvils.

Instead there was an endless jumble of tightly packed stone buildings, tiny ones with peaked roofs and much larger boxy ones.

Ahead, surrounding the place where the portal was lodged great towers thrust into the sky. Impossibly, many of them seemed to be made out of glass.

No; as she got closer, Lakheenahuknaasi sensed that they had skeletons of metal. She shuddered. Humans were far too fond of metal.

The gorgon sited the spot where the embryonic portal was floating and smiled faintly at the irony. Invisible to the naked eye in its current state, the inter-dimensional nexus was hovering perhaps a hundred yards above a large temple to the Old Gods, the walls of which were awash with the light of human magic.

Lakeenah blinked. What she had taken to be an outbuilding next to the temple revealed itself to be a giant metal snake. As she watched it whined loudly and began to hauled its segmented bulk away into the city. At this point she had ceased even trying to comprehend the purpose behind the bizarre human constructs.

In truth she was not sure where else to put the portal. The horrid snow had stopped, but the low clouds and mist had kept visibility down to a couple of miles. She had risked one quick, wide circle around the temple and spied a few structures that appeared to be large chimneys, but no smoke issued from them.

Lakeenah settled on destroying as many of the huge towers as possible. They seemed more like palaces than castles; undoubtedly they were occupied by the city's elite, the overseers and the most skilled artisans. Even this was not straightforward.

The terrain was quite hilly and if she placed the portal in the wrong spot the city might be shielded from the sphere of destruction. She settled on a monolithic black tower that stood proudly above and a little apart from the rest. It was sited on a low hill and at the top of a slight groove, which she hoped would act as a channel leading straight to the rest of the towers.

Lakheenahuknaasi finished her approach and began a slow descending glide over the temple. Bracing herself for the pain, she prepared to reach out with her psychic power to grasp the nexus. The familiar stinging sensation washed over her wings and suddenly she had it. Pumping her wings with grim determination, she strained to drag the nexus away from the temple. Immediately she could feel her queen's powerful presence.

"I have it. I am moving the nexus… into position." Lakheenahuknaasi exclaimed, with the mental equivalent of a gasp.

Euryale replied with a curt "Good. Do not fail me now."

Lakheenahuknaasi sensed the portal swelling as the naga back in The Eye of Terror poured energy into it. She had the target in sight, but it seemed agonizingly far away. The pent up psychic force was building to monstrous proportions and she had to switch from 'pulling' the nexus to 'pushing' against it to prevent it opening prematurely. At last she was almost over the tower.

"Ready!" she shouted into the ether, hoping Euryale sensed her over the human din and howling energy of the portal itself. She released the nexus, half-folded her wings and dropped away from the tower, racing to escape the literal piece of hell that was about to be unleashed.

White House, Washington D.C, USA

Being a wartime president was never been easy and after today Dirrel B Johnson would wish he had never won the election. Today was No Meat Day, it had been a traditional in the White House for the past ten years to show solidarity with the American people who were under ration.

Dirrel need to finish this tasteless meal quick, in 15 minute he would meet with senate majority and minority leaders to secure the vote for his budget plan. Maybe today was his lucky day. Dirrel didn't know how wrong he was.

As he was drinking his diet coke, suddenly his emergency phone rang. It was ULTRON, the supercomputer in charge of strategic defense of UEADF. Being the most powerful A.I in history ULTRON could response to all threat instantly.

"Mr. President at 06:00 UTC, dimensional portals opened in Gary city in Indiana; Nizhny Tagil in Russia; Rome in Italy; Jerusalem in Israel; Mecca and Medina in Saudi Arabia; Varanasi and Amritsar in India; Lhasa In China and Kyoto in Japan. Witnesses in those areas confirmed they were demon attacks. As we speak, I have sent out warnings to all the countries involved. Waiting for your order, Sir." ULTRON reported in an emotionless tone. ULTRON creator thought that was for the best, a servant of mankind didn't need emotion or personality it could creep its masters out.

"What?!"

His stomach twisted. He just stare with wide open eyed for five seconds. After overcame the initial shock, Dirrel rushed back to action. He need to know the realtime situation on the ground. An attack on American soild, this shouldn't be happening. Not in his term, dammit! But why those location? Gary Indiana, the largest steel plant in America; Nizhny Tagil, the biggest tank factory in Russia, it does make sense but why Lhasa and Mecca ? There are nothing important there. But that wasn't the problem, he needed to act now.

"What is the size of the incursion forces ?" He needed to know how many goddamn demons were invading his country.

"Reports indicated the OpFor is about half a legion in size. Local defending forces are poorly equipped to deal with the situation. My recommendation is to recall an Avenger task force from Lemuria Front."

"Yes, do it now," Dirrel replied. Dammit, they shoud stockpile some of those holy ammunition for home defense. Now they would have to wait for ammunition from half the world away. "How long will it take for them to arrive?" He urged.

"A squadron of SC-40 Atmospheric Bombers are being loaded with holy ammunition as we speak. They will be there in aprox 40 minutes."

"That's not fast enough, call on the nearby National Guard units to coordinate with the local police force and conduct the evacuation of civilians. Notify nearby hospitals to support the wounded." He paused for a moment. "And cancel the next meeting with Senate for me."

"Yes, Sir. The National Security Council have been notified. Please come to the Situation Room to assume command."

MD-902 G-SYPS (Gary Police Air Support Unit)

Peter Taranaski swung the helicopter around in a lazy semi-circle, ready for another slow pass over Gary/Chicago International Airport. Police work didn't pay well, but it was a lot more interesting than playing air taxi to overpaid executives or spending all day creeping along power lines.

Better yet, there was the regular thrill of accomplishing the mission, protecting the public and nabbing the bad guys. Back in the army air corps, it had mostly been an endless series of make-believe exercises. Even in weather like this, he was usually eager to take to the Explorer up, but when the scramble order came through he was expecting yet another false alarm.

In the left seat Sergeant Oliver Webster was staring intently at his main monitor, which was showing a thermal image of the streets below.

The younger man had quickly gained a reputation for competence and calmly directing ground units through crisis situations. In Pete's opinion though, the sergeant took life a bit too seriously; in particular, his jokes were usually met with a disapproving silence.

That was one good thing about the war; the second observer position had been replaced by a couple of heavily armed squaddies, who did seem to appreciated his one-liners.

The RT crackled. "Sierra Yankee Nine Nine, demon sighting reported, single flyer low over the town hall, over."

Demon ?! Like the ones in Falmart ?

Webster was shocked but he responded quickly. "Acknowledged. We'll head over there now." His voice continued over the intercom "Peter, I'd like an orbit of the ring road."

"Confirmed." Pete eased the cyclic forward and the aircraft began to pick up speed until it was holding 60 knots. "I'll take it easy. No sense wasting fuel." He looked over at Sergeant Webster, who nodded.

"Sierra Yankee Nine Nine, make that multiple sightings, at least one Chaos Demon over United States Steel Corporation Gary Works, priority one, over."

"Roger control, on our way." Webster replied. Pete had already dipped the nose and the MD 902 leapt forward, speeding towards the city centre. He cut in on the RT "Have ATC got a blip this time? Over."

There was a long silence. "Ah, negative Sierra Yankee. They've got some kind of interference though. Radar cover is compromised."

Sergeant Webster had zoomed the IR camera and had a pulsating speck centered on his monitor. As the helicopter drew closer it took a form reminiscent of a giant long-legged bat. "Chaos Demon sighted! Single flyer at 600 feet AGL, heading west from cathedral, over."

The reply was immediate and emphatic. "Say again Sierra Yankee, one Chaos Demon flyer over central Gary? We've lost your telemetry."

Pete had a visual on the demon and was maneuvering the helicopter into its rear quarter, staying well back. The Explorer was quieter than most helicopters, primarily due to its lack of a tail rotor, but he was still under no illusions that the demon couldn't hear them. He just didn't want to force a confrontation until they were ready.

"Affirmative, the demon flyer proceeding west towards the church at about 50 knots. It's a small one…" Webster's voice trailed off. He had switched back to visual and noticed that the demons wings were glowing with a ghostly blue-white light. Worse, the air beneath the creature was shimmering,as if by heat haze. What the devil was it up to?

"Ack… ledged… alert… intercept com… def.." The duty officer's voice distorted and dropped out. Sergeant Webster flipped channels but the error indicator on the radio panel wouldn't go out. It had to be whatever the demon was doing, if the radar was affected too. Time to make a judgment call.

"Peter, take us up over it for a shot." He looked back over his shoulder. "Corporal, you're up. Take it down."

The two riflemen were ready for the order and sprang immediately into action. Private Hughes slammed back the door, while Corporal Sinker heaved his AS50 anti-material rifle onto the pintle mount.

The target was easy to make out despite the fog, with the bright glow emanating from its wings… but then the light suddenly went out and the bat-like shape veered off and dropped away.

Sinker put his eye to the scope, hoping to line up a shot before the helo started changing position… and then recoiled from a sudden, overpowering rush of heat and light.

An impossibly deep, deafeningly loud roar had a moment to pound his ears before the helicopter was sucked into the maelstrom.

Gary, Indiana, USA 06:16 A.M UTC

Gary Indiana as with many Rust Belt cities, suffered from unemployment, decaying infrastructure, low literacy and educational attainment levels.

But everything changed after the Rumbling. The city was reborn, the growth of the steel industry once again brought prosperity to the community. They once again the biggest steel city in America.

But...not for long.

The midnight black disc of the portal swelled into existence almost directly above the city center, appearing for all the world like a flying saucer from a low-budget sci-fi movie.

And from the depths of hell you could hear the coordinated chanting of millions of demon sorcerers. Drawing power from an active volcano they were preparing for an offensive incantation of unimaginable scale.

"Chaos Release : Absolute Annihilation Sphere."

A large-scale annihilation incantation designed by Grand Duke of Hell Belial. Converting all of the thermal energy in an active volcano into thermal elements. It would be the mightiest offensive art in demon's history.

But without constantly fixing one's mind onto them, generated magic elements like thermal, cryogenic, and aerial elements would drift about the area on their own volition and eventually vanish, scattering as hot or cold air.

Hence, Belial explored means to maintain the produced elements without the need to focus on them. What first came to mind was to set them into some vessel.

That said, the standard elements for offensive arts, thermal and cryogenic, would instantly disappear upon coming into contact with some material, heating it up or cooling it down.

How to accumulate a large amount of magic. That was a basic yet ultimate question that many high ranking magic users racked their minds over since ancient times.

The solution was gravity spell. The sun was a giant nuclear bomb that constantly exploded but it never really going off due to the massive gravitational field it had pulling everything inward. The demon of course didn't know this but they knew gravity pulled everything inward and that was enough.

The sphere of annihilation grew quickly in size as it absorbed more and more thermal elements from the volcano. By now it had a diameter of 30 meter and growing, the surface temperature also increased to more than 50 thousand degrees Celsius.

As the temperature increased the sphere started to glow like a mini sun. By then the sphere carried as much energy as six million tons of TNT.

Once the sphere arrived on Earth, in the space of an eye-blink this super heated sphere expanded instantly and created an explosion with the force of a hydrogen bomb.

The first phase of the explosion happened within less than a second.

In a millisecond, a ball of plasma hotter than the sun appears and grows in a fireball to more than 4 kilometres across. Within this ball, everyone was just gone.

Think of water dripped on to a very hot pan. A sizzle, and then there was nothing. Most buildings, cars, trees, tacky sculptures and people all evaporated. Anything from Westbrook park in the west to Tennessee street to the east were gone.

The intense tsunami of light washed over the city in an instant. The heat of this light produced a thermal pulse, so energetic and hot that it just burned everything as far as 26 kilometres from the center. The explosion was so bright that you could see it from as far as Chicago and Michigan cities 40 km away.

What this means was that everything in an area of 2000 square kilometres that was able to burn, started burning. Plastic, wood, fabric, hair, and skin.

Most people first noticed that something was wrong, but it was already too late for hundreds of thousands. The flash was followed by the shockwave.

The heat and light of the fireball created a bubble of superheated and super-compressed air around it that was now expanding explosively. Faster than the speed of sound, creating winds stronger than a category five hurricanes and tornadoes.

Human infrastructure were no match for the power of a volcano. Most major buildings within 2 kilometres of the fireball like the Ernie Pyle elementary school were just grounded up down to their base in seconds.

Only steel reinforced concrete is able to partially resist the pressure.

In the surrounding parks like the Indiana Dunes National Park, trees blackened and smoldering from the heat a second before snap like toothpicks.

Anyone outside got tossed away like a grain of dust in a tornado. The shockwave weakens as it travels outwards but still, about 800 square kilometres of houses collapsed like they're made of cards, trapping tens of thousands of people who didn't have any time to react.

A mushroom cloud made from the remains of the fireball, dust and ash rose kilometres into the sky in the next few minutes and casted a dark shadow over the ruined city.

This violently pulled in fresh air surrounding the city, destroying more buildings and providing an abundance of oxygen for the firestorm that burnt the rubble and everybody who trapped in it

Prime Minister's Official Residence, Tokyo, Japan

The Prime Minister strode briskly through the underground corridor. He'd retired to the Kantei after the initial searches had turned up nothing, but in truth he'd only been napping.

He wasn't ready to believe that the demons had simply retreated after their slaughter, and it would seem that his instincts were correct.

"It's Kyoto sir," the aide next to him said, "some kind of massive incendiary attack. Reports of fires burning out of control and of buildings collapsing miles away. No Chaos Demons though."

Motoi Shinzō didn't bother asking her to elaborate, as the situation room was just ahead. He spotted Taro Itami across the room – the Minister of Defense probably hadn't left since the initial attack – along with several other cabinet members. The screens showed images of fire, brimstone and digital maps with conspicuous red outlines superimposed on them.

"How bad is it Admiral?"

"Prime Minister. In short, the Chaos Demons have hit Kyoto with a weapon of mass destruction, based on their portal capability. We're looking at a total loss of the city, severe damage out to ten miles from ground zero and significant damage to the surrounding areas."

The PM's expression was grim. "Comparable to a strategic nuclear yield?" The scenario seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn't place the source of the deja vu.

"Not exactly sir. We had one piece of luck, a JASDF drone caught the deployment on video." Minister Itami nodded to the comms officer, who touched a control. A pair of images appeared on a large screen, documenting the initial encounter with the Chaos Demon.

"Right is natural color, left is the thermal image. They intercepted the demon over the cathedral, don't know if that was significant."

The PM was staring at the Chaos Demon. It looked like a grotesque cross between a woman and a bat, with bronze skin and no visible arms. There was something odd about its hair… and its wings had started to glow.

The image began to show streaks and speckles. Minister of Defense continued to narrate. "Intercept control lost radar coverage over the city shortly before the intercept. Radio contact with the drone was lost about now." The buildings began to recede and the angle shifted. "It's maneuvering for a shot. A little too late, unfortunately…"

The Chaos Demon suddenly closed its wings and fell away, leaving a tower block in the centre of the frame. The image flared; the visual camera quickly recovered to show an orange sphere right below a portal about 7km alway, while the thermal image stayed whited out. The room was silent as the sphere detonated and obliterated the city below. Then the image spun crazily before blanking out.

"The drone went down?"

The voice came from behind him but it was one the PM had become tiresomely familiar with. Sure enough, Deputy Prime Minister Shigenori Hōjō was standing behind him.

"Actually no, though it was a close thing." As if on cue, the video switched to showing a panoramic aerial view of the destruction. "The MQ-99 recorded this before it had to return to base. We've established that the burst height was a little over eight hundred meter. Portal diameter is about fifty meter before closing."

Shin Godzilla 2. That was it. An old Toho film, about Kyoto's destruction by a nuclear bomb to kill Godzilla . Shinzō pushed the trivia out of his mind, but not before thinking well, at least things aren't that bad.

"Casualties?"

"We're guessing at the moment, but I'd be surprised if we take less than one million fatalities with somewhere between 1,7 to 2 milion injuries."

And this was just one of ten cities that were attacked

"What's our response so far?"

"We've got fighters up Sir. F-15s patrolling and some F-16s. They're trainers but they've always had a war-emergency point defense role. They're carrying a gun pod we've had in storage ever since the Phantoms were phased out."

"F-15s? F-16s? What happened to the J-4s? For all the money those things cost us…"

"They're out in Lemuria Sir. Anyway, the JSDF is being mobilized and we're moving in. We'll have to be damned careful. The explosion did one hell of a lot of damage and if there's another, we could lose all our first responders. Casualties?

Quite apart from the numbers issue, we've got the lot. Severe burns, blunt force trauma, gas poisoning, you name it. The Chaos Demons didn't hit us with a nuke but they might as well have done. First priority is to get the scene cordoned off…"

He was interrupted by the telephone ringing. One of the aides picked it up and spoke for a few seconds.

"Sir, I have Seoul on the line. They've picked up the news, probably intercept of the transmissions we've been watching. A Fire Brigade is already on its way. A ferry is being held for them."

"Word's out then. Didn't take long did it. Have we any more data to give out."

"No Sir. We'll be getting download from a IGS O-7 fairly shortly but that's all we can expect. "

The phone rang again. "Its Viet Nam, Sir. They got the news about the attack but no more than that. They say, whatever they've got and we want we can have."

"Nice of them. Still no theories on why Kyoto was the target? Ground zero was the university, were they doing anything important?"

"Nothing credible Prime Minister. I checked the university… their materials department did some engineering work on the new HEAT shells, but that's all."

Another cold war memory bobbed unbidden into Shinzō's mind; a novel in which the Chinese had destroyed Tokyo with a single ICBM, then tried to sue for terms. Bad end to a good book… he couldn't remember the title. No matter, it was a plausible scenario here.

These attacks might be a carefully judged attempt by Abaddon to demonstrate his power before opening negotiations. But it was also plausible that Kyoto and nine other cities were just unlucky, and that more strikes would follow as fast as the demons could manage.

"We have to know why and more importantly if, when and where the next strike will be. What about that demon general the Americans captured? If he's supposed to be on our side why didn't he bother to warn us about this?"

"You'll have to ask the Americans that Sir, he's in their hands."

"We'll do just that. Mr. Itami, if you could call the White House and the Kremlin please, I'll want a video conference ASAP." Shinzō was more inclined to assign the twit to making tea, but alas one had to accommodate political realities.

Alnus Base, Lemuria, Falmart

"Is this true, Commander?" Asked Commander of the East Asian 11th Army, General Yōji Itami.

Nuttall could see the worry on Itami's face and everyone around him, many of whom were from the recently attacked countries.

"New information is coming in but we have confirmed that there has been a series of attacks using WMD on the city of Gary in the US; Nizhny Tagil in Russia; Rome in Italy; Jerusalem in Israel; Mecca and Medina in Arabia Saudi; Varanasi and Amritsar in India; Lhasa in China and Kyoto in Japan."

An uproar of shock reverberates through the room as everyone jumps up to their feet and babbles their swearing.

Oh...God!

We had to go back and help them.

Did anyone have any contact with the Italian government?

Oh ... God Almighty... Vatican .. The Pope ... had he been evacuated ?

What happened to Masjid al-Haram (in Mecca), and Al-Masjid an-Nabawi (in Medina) ?

Dear Lord, What about the West Bank ? Did anyone have any contact with the Palestine government ? How was the situation in Israel ?

Did anyone have the location of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. He wasn't in Lhasa, was he? Had we reestablished contact with Tibet yet?

"Everyone calm down!" Commander Nuttall bellowed, immediately getting it. Everyone sits back down.

"What should we do now, Commander ?"

"Isn't it obvious? We destroy them" A female voice interjected. It belonged to Her Holiness Rory Mercury.

"What about defending our homeland?!" Tommy exclaimed as he jumps up with an eager expression.

"Her Holiness is right," he finally answered in a solemn tone. "We must carry on as we currently do and destroy the forces of Chaos. Doing so will prevent further attacks. Recommence the Operation immediately." Nuttall ordered.

A collective groan arises throughout the room.

A dark elven woman suddenly rushed in. She was Yao Ro Dushi, an Imperial intelligence officer currently serving Her Holiness Rory Mercury.

"Your...Holiness... There...," Yao regained her breath. "Just half an hour ago, the Ruinous Powers of Chaos launched a massive incendiary attack on ten of our holy sites. Thanks to our underground cities, the loss of life was limited but the cities above were leveled."

Everyone around gaped with profound horror as their eyes widen. The attacks weren't over yet.

Rory gritted her teeth struggling to contain her rage. "It seems we underestimate the stupidity of the Chaos demons, they will pay dearly for this blasphemous act. We shall burn them all."