Operation Black Dawn

Mission 2 - Italy

September 29, 1995.

Two months before the First Tiberium War

"Move towards more ideas that can... uh... bring this thing to an end."

- Anon. Commentator

Pvt. Alvin S. Payne - Camp Tiber - Dated September 29, 1995.

Two days before mass Disappearances of GDI and Nod Forces in Italy

As I stood there, with the Noddie accompanying me, we found the scene to be disgustingly enraging. Writhing, incapacitated victims infected with this stupid infectious disease. I was going to be honest with you, I had no idea that we'd find this kind of situation in the ER. Back during my first days in the camp, NCID wasn't a thing or a concern, at least, from my perspective. Though more and more cases have begun to pile up and claim more lives in the process. Fucking Christ, what more problems can a single fucking meteor give towards the combined forces of the United Nations and the Brotherhood? Too many to count?

The ER was filled with staff from everywhere. Most of the ER staff, humanitarian workers and doctors, were affiliated with the Red Cross or Red Crescent, some were from 'Doctors without Borders', an international NGO, some were from the Dutch International Development Aid Project, or IDAP. And others were from the Chinese Shanghai Humanitarian Relief Force, or SHRF. All of them wore gas masks, probably to protect from NCID. I and the Noddie began approaching the first ER patient we saw, he appeared to be a GDI soldier, given the uniform, the markings, and the fact that his rifle, presumably unloaded, was an M3 Eliminator* assault rifle. GDI-standard issue one too at that.

Finding a conveniently placed chair, I plopped down to spectate what these humanitarian staff were doing, and... good god. The scene was something out of a science-fiction horror film. You ever seen the movie 'The Stuff', released back in the 1980s? Imagine that, but instead of marshmallow cream, or, well, 'the Stuff' as it's known, it's instead green crystals. Yes, you heard me correctly. Green crystals. The doctors were making incisions on him, which resulted in nothing but agonizing screams from the poor guy. And even as the incisions started becoming bigger, more crystals began to leak out of the incisions, spilling out into the floor.

The only thing I could do right there was recoil in disgust looking at those crystals casually falling down on the floor, and the Noddie just gagged, looking as if he was ready to vomit his guts out. To be fair, anyone put in our shoes would also vomit at the sight of this shit too. Just... no. For the love of god, make it stop! Hearing this man's agony as he was cut continuously gave me the temptation to pull out a firearm and stop it, but at the same time, this was fucking NCID we were talking about! Nothing could cure this damn thing! I would probably get nightmares about this shit for days.

And when the incision was finally finished per se, everything spilled out. Crystals of various sizes spilled out of this man's arm, getting into the floor. Glowing a sickening green, almost as if it was to spite us about the color green being a vessel for this piece of shit 'disease'. If NCID could do this to the internals of a man, then what could it do given enough time outside the body? Actually, nevermind. That's a terrible question to ask. Answer me that question when it reaches 2030 or something, then I can finally kick myself for being a dumbass.

The Noddie accompanying me did nothing but stop himself from vomiting in the middle of the ER. Which was a goddamn high-effort task if he was to be completely honest, as anyone would just spill their innards at the sight of this. The fleshy innards, by the way, not the crystal thing which replaces it. Now, as I say that to myself, the ER staff make a comment about his condition.

"No use, the Crystal's completely covered his arm." One of the staff notes, pretty obviously, that his arm was completely fucked. "No shit," Another one says, "the problem is though... his arm was crystallized at a pace too rapid. Too rapid for us to even try to amputate the original infection point. The virus must be mutating. Mutating at a pace so fast that it might as well outpace the response teams we send outside of the camp." The unnamed staff member finishes off with a concerning message, though, to be fair on him, NCID was a very volatile disease. One infection, and you've pretty much doomed yourself and the soil underneath you to a slow, painful demise.

"Fuck..." Staff member number three says, hands covering his face in disappointment. "Do we have to do...it?" He asks, hesitantly. I don't exactly know the context behind this, but... I can assume he's meaning by euthanasia. God, I hope so. The poor Minigunner sounds like he's having the worst time of his life, and I do NOT mean that as a joke... good lord.

Having enough of that shit, I and the Noddie decide to get out of ER. Sure, we can joke about the horrors of serving in peacekeeping operations and share a beer with some actually pretty cool Noddies, but then you get to shit that's on this level... no. I don't think I can actually handle seeing NCID patients suffer like that. I'd rather drown myself in alcohol, thank you very much.

The both of us made it outside of ER, and by extension, the building itself. We didn't have anything to do at that point, but still. It was getting very uncomfortable for me, seriously, I actually felt like I was watching a man getting tortured for no apparent reason... at least that's how it would look like if it had no context. With the context though it feels more like a vain attempt at rescuing a man about to die from an infectious disease, which is, again, exactly what happened. I don't know why I make such shitty allegories, but enough of that. I actually need a break.

"So, mister Noddie..." I say, getting ready to ask the million dollar question that my sorry ass forgot to ask before. "What's your name?" That question must've made him think for a bit, as he just stood there without doing anything... before he finally decided to respond.

Pvt. Andrus J. Harma - Camp Tiber - Dated September 29, 1995

Two days before the mass Disappearances of GDI and Nod Forces in Italy.

Hesitantly, I answered the man's question about my name. If I were to be honest, I would've just answered with the following facts; My name is Andrus Joosep Harma, I am 21 years old, currently living in Estonia, serving in the Estonian Army, but I wouldn't. For one, that just felt like I was referencing something so over-the-top that people would spot it the moment I utter it, and the other, I just didn't like revealing much about my personal life. Not even to myself, sometimes, which was a doozy to comprehend anyways.

"Andrus Harma. Estonian Army." I answered the American, who was surprisingly friendly with a soldier like me. Weren't GDI imperialists evil beings who only sought to slaughter and corrupt our nation? Well, surprisingly, no. They were people, like me, and good people at that. So, yeah, there's that. "Ah, the Baltics, having fun working under Nod?" The American says, almost as if he wanted to irritate me with that statement. "You're going to have to try a better insult to my nationality, buddy, I'm used to this job. It's my job now, sucker." I respond, almost as if I wanted to strike back with that American sarcasm fitted right into it.

"No, that was a genuine question, how's it actually like over there in Estonia?" The American, slightly offended by the fact that his actually pretty innocent question was being interpreted as a jab at his nationality, asked me. I sheepishly replied with something along the lines of "Well," I take a moment to answer. "I've always been discriminated against across this camp for being Baltic." So, yeah, the American knows why I don't like talking about my nationality. The Baltics have always been the subject of debates that have been considered too hot for most people to comprehend. Primarily due to Nod's hold there.

"Well, buddy, just know that I don't actually give a fuck. You're the first Noddie I've ever spoken to, and surprisingly, you don't seem bad. It's just that... well, you're Nod, after all." He says, extending his hand towards me. "I've actually been interested in seeing what Nod was like, aside from the stereotypical cultist shit. By the way, the name's Payne. Alvin Payne." Well, that's something. Normally, most GDI servicemen wouldn't bat an eye towards Nod soldiers like us, however, after that incident with the Bradley and him telling his story, it seems that this might be the start of GDI-Nod relations warming up in light of the Crystallization Virus.

I accepted and extended my hand as well, and we both shook our hands, signifying the start of a surprisingly amicable friendship between the United Nations and its sworn enemy. At least, on this level. God knows how hard it would be for the higher-ups of the UN and the Brotherhood to start talking to each other without throwing insults and promises of vengeance at each other. "You know, if there's one thing I enjoy doing, it's studying the perspective of people that I mostly shit on." Aaaand that's an interesting way of saying 'I like psychoanalyzing people', you know?

"So, what do you want to do now?" I ask, bored, that was pretty short, not going to lie, but it was just enough to get the both of us to connect, I suppose. Two men, with nothing better to do in life. "Well, do you want to talk while looking at military equipment?" Oh, of course the American asks if I want to go see military equipment being produced and manufactured. I've never been a fan of America's continual monopoly in the arms industry, making most of the profits from it. If memory serves me correct, America made up to 2 billion a year selling weapons to UN-aligned areas, and some Neutral areas too.

Eh, fuck it, not much better to do anyway. "Sure, go ahead." I shrugged as soon as those words were uttered. The American went first, scouting for a spot for us to sit, because let's face it, there was literally no point in just standing there. I followed him, walking briskly, the M16A2* on my back starting to slap against it as my legs kept moving and moving. The American and I kept turning around and walking in circles until we found an actual spot where the both of us could sit down and relax, watching military equipment get produced and used almost immediately.

The American was the first to sit down on the spot, plopping himself down with his legs crossed and with binoculars in his hands, ready to sightsee military equipment, I followed him, slowly lowering myself, with my legs facing forward, and my upper body leaning forward. We were positioned at a flat, small area facing the 'Industrial Sector' of the camp, where rifles, vehicles, aircraft, and such would be manufactured from.

You know, I really should start calling people by their names, shouldn't I? Yeah, I should. So, Payne's just there, sitting down with his binoculars and rifle, looking at the industrial sector. "So, Harma. Tell me more about yourself. You got any interesting stories to tell?" Payne asked me. Thinking about it, I was rapidly looking through my memories to find something of worth... well, actually, I do have a lot of things to talk about, so, here we go.

"Well, did I ever tell you the story of how someone tried to blow up my old school back in Estonia?" I began, before continuing on about this hilariously absurd experience. "So, back when I was... about 14 or so, there was an incident revolving someone getting fed up with my school and attempting to blow it up." Oh, looks like Payne was already getting excited about hearing this. "Go on." was all he said before I continued again. "So during that time period, there was a severe decrease in quality of... wait for it... food." Payne looked at me as if I said something dumb. "What?"

"So, this guy, instead of complaining about it like any normal person would do, decided to plot a terrorist attack and all that. He had plans, blueprints, targets, and even wrote an essay on why he'd be bombing the cafeteria specifically, his plan was something born out of spite and hatred for simple things such as food quality, though that's not the worst part. The worst part, which is actually the funniest, is how his plan catastrophically failed. It crumbled down because... some teacher happened to stumble upon him recording his motives, you know, explanations and threats, all that stuff. He was immediately detained by the school and sent to the authorities, and the school found that he had gotten himself a bit of fertilizer, you know, for IEDs and such." I finished relaying this absurd story to Payne, who simply smiled and shook his head.

"Man, what the hell happens over there in Estonia?" He asks, laughing, sure, this would've been a hard subject to touch had it succeeded, but the fact that all it took was a teacher to uncover a plot to bomb the school all because of food? Come on, really? "Well, a lot of shit. For example, my Dad's an Ultranationalist, and a hardlining one at that. But he's also the reason I enjoy video games, as he lent me a copy of his favorite video game, I think it was 'Division of Courage', a strategy game. WW2-era one at that." Payne took a moment to relay his surprised expression to me. "DoC? I actually love that game. Dude, you know how fun it is playing Allies and spamming nothing but Rifle Infantry? The M16s absolutely shred anything that gets too close to them, Christ." Oh, looks like Payne was a rifle infantry spammer too, fun.

I got a chuckle knowing that I wasn't alone in the field of spamming infantry like there's no tomorrow. "Could you tell me more? I'm actually pretty interested." Payne asked, I was about to answer 'yes', but then I saw something that caught my eye. Over down in the industrial section, the War Factories were being fired up, as there was a reflection of yellow-colored light from the windows. "Payne, look." I said, pointing it out. "That War Factory's about to produce something!" And the moment I said those words, Payne pulled up his binoculars and took a good look.

"Mammoth tank, most likely. I can see a big turret being fit into something."

"Interesting..."

As I said that, I hear the whirr of several helicopters. I turn my attention away from the War Factory to take a look at what the whirr came from. The source was something that brought joy to my eyes, or, in other words, it was an AH-64D Longbow. Long-since outdated by 1995 standards, but damn me if I said that it wasn't effective. The Apache brought along several others, and all of them were equipped with the standard Apache loadout. A 20mm Autocannon on the bottom of the nose, scanning the area. Accompanying those were the Apache's signature AGM-114 Hellfire Missiles, on the wingtips, were AIM-9X Sidewinders, short-range missiles that were effective en masse, and on the top was its iconic radar, which distinguished it from the older AH-64C Crossbow in service during the Japanese-American War.*

And as soon as the Apaches disappear from my sight, what replaces it is also another amazing display. Though it's not from Nod, or the Estonian military, it does deserve being noted down. The sight in front of me after the Apaches had long left was the sight of American F-35 Orca* fighters. The F-35 was a program that, while costly, was worth it for the American Air Force. It entered service with the GDI some time ago, and is just too fast for its own good. The F-35 is equipped with a 30mm autocannon that's iconic for the sound it makes, which sounds a lot like 'brrt' or something along those lines. It's also equipped with MPM-71 TOWs, capable of targeting both ground and air targets, and has some speed.

And, after I finish looking at the aircraft, Payne grabs my arm and yanks it, grabbing my attention. "It's here!" He says as the door of the War Factory slowly opens, revealing that, indeed, it was a Mammoth tank. A lumbering beast of superior firepower and Soviet engineering. I've always been a fan of the Mammoth, and I think this just solidifies how much I like it, even as a soldier of Estonia, and by extension, Nod.

After that whole shebang, me and Payne went back to sharing stories about our lives, however, as we did that, we spent a lot of time, and by the time we had decided to take a break, it had already been evening. "Well, crap." Payne said, I couldn't help but agree. "Should we just head back to barracks?" Payne asked me, and without hesitating or even contemplating, simply nods, an unspoken 'yeah' being transmitted to both of us.

I stood up, extending my hand towards Payne, who returned the favor, and shook it. "Well, I'll catch you later, mister Alvin Payne." I said, emphasizing the mister part. "Same here, sir Andrus Harma." he returned the favor, emphasizing the sir part. We both parted ways, expecting not much to come.

Oh, how foolish we were to assume that our days in the camp were only going to be easier.

Two Days Later - October 1, 1995

Pvt. Alvin S. Payne - Catastrophe - Dated October 1, 1995

Thirty Minutes before mass Disappearances of GDI and Nod Forces in Italy

"How many minutes does he have left, Doc?!" I asked, trying my best to keep an NCID patient alive. "ONLY A FEW IF WE DON'T HURRY UP!" the Doc responds, trying to find a way to make an amputation on this man without him being killed instantly by the shock, with Harma also helping by fiddling through medical supplies trying to find the morphine, mostly to keep this man alive, even as NCID begins to consume him. Harma injected morphine and anesthesia into this poor NCID victim, before motioning for the doctor to do 'it'.

The Doc we were with, Doctor Lars de Ruyter, grabbed a scalpel, making an incision across the infected man's arm, before making an incision across it, and pulling out a bonesaw, preparing to cut the bone in half, however as he was about to saw it off, he found that the area of the arm below the elbow was already getting crystallized, mostly from the inside. Without hesitating, Lars sawed off the infected part of the bone, with it falling to the ground and the green crystals spilling out of it. Eugh. I think I'm going to puke.

Lars then closed the amputated arm, merging the remaining flesh together, then sewing them, creating a rounded shape, where the arm of the infected man once stood. Good god, what was this virus? "We saved him from death... but I can't say the same about his arm." Lars said, glancing towards the infected arm. "Get the NBC team in," Lars ordered. "I want that arm disposed of in the pile." As Lars said that, I had turned on my radio and informed the NBC team to commence the disposal of NCID-contaminated materials.

I sighed, knowing that this was going to be tiring. In the two days that had followed Harma and me becoming pretty good friends despite the differences, NCID infections had spiked. HARD. We had received 30 infections out of the remaining 120,231 personnel, military and humanitarian, stationed at Camp Tiber. Out of those 30 infections, 17 did not make it alive, and had to be disposed in a mass grave dug for these people, aptly known as 'The Pile'. It was located quite a few kilometers away from the camp, ensuring that none of us could catch NCID.

"Christ, that the last case, Doc?" I asked Lars, who nodded his head, and while he couldn't see it, he definitely had a pensive expression on his face. "Yes, and fortunately, one of the ones with more chances of surviving." Lars took a deep breath, and sighed. "I don't understand what the purpose of 'The Pile' is, if NCID is capable of crystallizing materials, what's not to say it can crystallize the soil, and put us in danger?" Lars asked, putting away the bloody bonesaw. The bloodstains on his uniform were a tell-tale sign of the other NCID cases.

"Doc, where did NCID come from anyway?" I ask, it'd normally sound dumb for me to ask stuff like this, but now that I'm with an actual doctor involved with NCID research, then maybe I might have some knowledge. "NCID as a disease first originated from the survivors of the Liquid Tiberium detonation during Day Zero, the initial patients, who were GDI and Nod soldiers caught in the blast, showed no signs of infection at first, however a day later, they were complaining a 'hard feeling' underneath their skin, and when they scratched it, it revealed crystals, then the rest.. is history."

After the explanation from Doctor Lars, I just sat there, contemplating my life decisions, as one normally would. "Fucking hell..." I said, just as the NBC team arrived. Clad in both Desert Yellow and Urban Grey, the NBC team of this camp was a joint GDI-Nod effort, with Nod NBC teams being armed most of the time while GDI NBC teams having bullet-resistant suits. They had the arm placed in a bag and sealed it before making off with it.

"Harma, ever wonder why the Noddie NBCs always have their M16s outside of the suit?" I ask out of nowhere to break the silence after the NBC teams left.

"No idea, all I know is that most of them come from Latvia, that's literally it. Look at the patches, literally Latvian." Harma replies, re-arranging the medical supplies in an 'organized' fashion.

As I get out of the medical tent after asking Harma that question, I take off my gas mask, allowing me to breathe yet again. "Fresh air-" I say, before I cough. Ow, my throat hurts. "Auhg, sorry." I say to myself, coughing a bit more before it finally stopped. I found a chair and sat down, observing the sky. The sky was my best friend sometimes, well, besides Harma.

Staring at the sky, my initial beliefs that it'd be permanently calm were proven to be incorrect, however. The sky became clouded, and dark. Almost obstructing, even. What in the world? It wasn't just me who stared at the sky as if it had suddenly gone rogue on the camp. GDI and Nod soldiers alongside humanitarian staff were all asking questions. Mostly "what the fuck" questions and less vulgar and more verbose questions, especially the more medical-specialized staff. You know, the Medics and all that.

I myself was about to ask about this phenomenon, more than concerned about the status of the world. I was about to ask something along the lines of "Hello? World? Is your weather system fucked?" but I couldn't do it as I was simply there, stuck, and watching it. However, as soon as I asked that question... something happened. Something very terrible.

A Catastrophe of epic proportions. Lightning struck everything as aircraft already in flight found themselves knocked out of the sky, and those that weren't were forced to make an emergency landing. Tanks retreated as lightning strikes hit the roads in front of them, frightening the poor inexperienced crews. Infantry dispersed and ran back into the buildings of the camp, from the tents, to the actual buildings, or ER.

In a few minutes, Camp Tiber, and all the men stationed there, would vanish as a flash thunderstorm overtook the camp and within a few minutes, all that remained was flat land, where thousands of men, machines, and aircraft once stood.

One would have to wonder if Einstein's legacy had something to do with this...

WO1 Pyeong Chong-woo - ? - Dated ?

Thirty Minutes after the mass Disappearances of GDI and Nod Forces from Italy

The feeling of hard ground was the first thing I discovered waking up, that, and the feeling of liquid dripping down my right arm. I could just lay down there and pretend to be dead, but that would be a waste of my time and blood, so, mustering all the strength I had for that, I pushed myself up, gradually rising up, then, I could finally stand like a normal person. Albeit, a normal person with blood dripping their right arm. Fuck. That was going to be a problem. A big one at that. Oh well, not much I can do now, can I? Fucking hell.

I saw my M16 rifle laying a few meters from where I stood, limping over to it, I lifted it up from the ground by grabbing its sling, before cradling it my hands. "Now... where the hell am I?" I took a minute to examine my surroundings and get my bearings before I could do anything. My examination thus far revealed that... I'm in a city of a sort. There's cars strewn about everywhere, wreckage that ranged from cars to... are those trains? Where the hell did I land in? This isn't Camp Tiber! Not at fucking all! As I asked myself on what kind of hell I found myself stuck in, I turned around out of reflex and found where I actually originated from.

A crashed United Nations UH-1 Nighthawk* helicopter, with the cockpit windows being smashed open, most likely ejecting me into the ground. Realizing that I may have forgotten someone, I rushed to the Nighthawk with the intent of finding the copilot. As I ran to the cockpit door, I struggled to open it, angrily flailing both of my hands, which were firmly grasped to the door handle, until the door happened. I had my expectations too high, as I expected to find the guy alive, what I got instead was a dead body, with GDI markings on him. Tokyo Pact, at that.

"Shit..." Was all I could say, I didn't know the copilot, but he sure as hell didn't deserve to die like that. Fuck...

I turned my head around left and right, trying to make sure that nobody was there, and since nobody was there, I proceeded to... disarm a corpse. Specifically, to prevent anyone from retrieving the copilot's firearm and using it against anyone in general, not just other soldiers or civilians. I first grabbed his arm with one hand, then another, before dragging him out of the helicopter, searching his body, I found his M16A2, still attached to his back via the sling. Yanking it off his corpse was the very first thing I did, before I searched his body for magazines. I found about three and counting, so I stuffed them in my vest, while I slung his M16, keeping mine around for good measure.

I walked through this wrecked city similar to someone walking through the shadow of death. It's... not calming watching all of this, wrecks, flames, just what happened? And where am I?

These questions would be lingering in my mind, but to be honest, questions like those would also linger in everyone's minds. GDI, Nod, or Humanitarian alike.

I kept myself on high alert, waiting for anyone to make a move, or a sound, and at first, it seemed like my fears would be disproven, allowing me to finally relax for once. But...

I found myself facing off against a group of rather peculiar individuals. If I were to describe them... one of them looked like a medic, with what looked like a medical armband, one of them appeared to have... long ears? Either I'm hallucinating or something's happening here that I don't know about. Another one seemed to have a massive shield of some sort, another appeared to have a whip, and... the last one appeared to be a hooded figure. Hell I'm not even certain that I can make out anything out of him at all. What in the fuck was going on?

I would have shouted and asked them to identify themselves, however... bleeding arm and all that, I just told them something like this.

"I don't mean any of you harm!" I shouted at them, raising my hands and keeping my trigger finger off the rifle I had in my hands. Hopefully, as a sign that I don't mean any harm. "I'm from the UN!" I shouted, hoping somebody would know what 'UN' meant.

I just kept at it for a few seconds, hoping a response would follow.

It could be worse... I suppose.

Notes from Payne:

M3 Eliminator - Standard issue rifle of the United Nations and the Global Defense Initiative, based off the Calico Submachine Gun

M16A2 - Standard issue rifle of the Brotherhood of Nod and its subsidiary nations and some elements of GDI, one of the most famous weapons on Earth

Japanese-American War - Started 1934, Ended 1936, American victory, started as a result of Japanese attacks on the US Naval Base in Pearl Harbor

F-35 Orca - The standard VTOL attack craft of the United States Air Force and parts of the Global Defense Initiative

UH-1 Nighthawk - WW2-era helicopter in service with the Allied Nations and the Global Defense Initiative

Author's Notes:

Sorry if this felt a bit too sudden, I was rushing everything and I wanted to prove that I wasn't dead anymore, and I myself feel like it's a bit incomplete, but no turning back now. Here we fucking go, into the world of Arknights we go.

I know I said I was going to focus on humanitarian aid and missions by the UN and Nod to aid everyone they could, but I'll still link it to the main story, using the poor South Korean Pilot as a vessel for the interconnectivity.

Let me just say this here and there, Harma and Payne aren't going to be in a relationship. They're best friends, simple as. And I plan for their friendship to strengthen as GDI and Nod gradually abandon the old ideas they once possessed in favor of more 'adapted' ideas.

Oh, yeah, NCID is also going to interact with the AK world, and considering how painful Tiberium is already... God knows what happens if Originium mixes with Tiberium, even if it is TibDawn-era Tiberium and not TibWars.

Special thanks to semsas who encouraged me to write my own C&C/AK fic a long while back. Go read his other work, 'Tiberium', it's some pretty good shit.

See y'all later in the next chapter.