New York City
April 17, 2013
Corporal Johnson was a simple man. There was not that much to his life. Sure, he was in the US Army, but he never really considered himself a soldier. After all, he just barely passed basic training, and scout training was a living hell for him, but he managed to pass it despite the odds. The only reason he joined was to keep up the old family tradition of serving the United States. His grandpa breached the Atlantic Wall while his father fought in Iran. Originally, he was going to be deployed to Stettin as a recon unit in the city but a quick and decisive orbital bombardment stopped that. Now, he was walking in Times Square to the local game shop to get a copy of the latest Battlestorm game. Tourists from several foreign countries had basically filled the Square and it was impossible to walk through this sea of people. Regardless, Johnson pressed forwards.
Wonder if the campaign in this one isn't as shitty as the last one, he thought. Battlestorm 3's campaign involved an Allied special operations team taking out a secret Nazi military base that was developing an atomic bomb. When it was released, it was widely shunned by critics for its poor character development, broken shooting mechanics and its extremely slow gameplay. Johnson joined in with the critics, despite the fact that he played the game for 7 hours in one sitting and proceeded to proclaim how great the game was.
His thought process was soon interrupted as he noticed something growing from the corner of his eye. A palace shaped object soon started to appear in front of One Times Square, obstructing the building behind it.
What the fuck, thought Johnson. Everyone in Times Square had the same thought, as they all looked in awe at the translucent palace slowing phasing into existence. After a few minutes, the translucent palace fully manifested. A black, plane-like mouth soon appeared in front of the palace. People were snapping photos and recording videos with their smartphones, thinking that this was a spectacular phenomenon. How wrong they would be.
A few seconds after the mouth opened, legions of Roman-style soldiers on horseback appeared to simply exit the palace. The soldiers stopped for a moment, some opening their mouths as they tried to take in the colossus of the city before them. Flashing lights and advertisements continuously bombarded the men's eyes, with some even covering them due to how bright the signs were. A man, appearing to be some sort of commander as his uniform was a bit different to the rest, shouted out something in what appeared to be a weird garble of English, Italian, Spanish, and German. Then all hell broke loose.
However, what the people of this world could not have known is that the same thing was occurring across space and time in Ginza, Tokyo.
Legion Legate Cervi was laughing as his soldiers slaughtered the defenseless civilians on Times Square. Blood literally coated 42nd Street as hundreds of people were killed within a few minutes. His men enjoyed themselves, raping and pillaging the city before them. Nearby, a pigman had just stabbed an NYPD patrol officer straight in the heart and proceeded to eat the remains of the man. In the first 15 minutes of the Battle of Manhattan, the NYPD suffered dozens of casualties as officers found that they were fighting off thousands with only their sidearms.
These people are pathetic. They know nothing of war and how to fight back. They should be glad that the glorious Saderan Empire is annexing them, thought the Legate. He proceeded to direct his men towards several of these horse-less carriages and tried to puncture through the steel of the cars. His men were executing civilians begging for mercy or appeared to beg for mercy, as he could not understand their filthy savage language. None of the civilians' requests were granted, as a Saderan cavalryman laughed and dragged a woman off with his comrades into the Gate.
A worthy reward for my soldiers thought Cervi. After all, his men were battle-hardened veterans of the War of the Bunnies and hadn't gotten their share of slaves from Zorzal's conquest. A few barbarian women from this world wouldn't hurt.
In the corner of his vision, Legate Cervi noticed that several more horse-less carriages had appeared, but instead of flashing red and blue lights and sounds, they were much bulkier and were completely black. Several men poured out of the back of the carriage, each carrying a strange black item. Cervi inferred that they were probably crossbows, due to the way the men held them. Unfortunately, their wagons appeared to be set up to block off the advance of his legion. Suddenly, he heard several loud explosions. Cervi looked around frantically, only to see that around 5 of his men were dead, their horses wildly running away. That would be the last thing Cervi saw, as another 5.56mm round fired from the responding SWAT team soon penetrated through his skull and hit his brain stem.
Social Media on April 17, 2013
The video shows a man dressed in a hoodie wandering around the city, trying sweets and visiting stores. It is just a normal vlog until you go 5 minutes and 54 seconds into the video.
"Look at this cool palace that appeared in the middle of the city!"
The camera shows a translucent palace directly in front of One Times Square, and several people looking at the thing in awe.
"Anyways guys, I don't know what the hell it is but it sure looks damn cool! I'll see you guys next time on the channel! New uploads every week!"
Immediately after he says this, John turns the camera to his face to show him standing in front of the palace. The video ends.
John772 - Daily Vlogs & More, Youtube
"What the fuck's going on in Times Square? I'm a few blocks away and there are literally hundreds of people running and screaming something about monsters and soldiers? The fuck?"
Yoloswag69420, Twitter
"DO NOT APPROACH TIMES SQUARE. A MASS CASUALTY INCIDENT HAS BEEN REPORTED. EMERGENCY SERVICE UNITS ARE EN ROUTE TO THE SCENE."
NYPDNews, Twitter
Johnson was running for his life and noticed a dazed police officer sitting on the sidewalk idly. The police officer noticed Johnson and said nothing. Up ahead he noticed a Mcdonalds building crowded with scared men, women, and children. He took a closer glance and was shocked by the barbarity he saw. A man was being decapitated in front of the cashier by another man dressed in strange ancient armor while his other friend was busy raping the cashier herself as the diners watched, shocked.
Enraged, he grabbed the police officer's service pistol. The safety was turned off and he methodically walked over to the restaurant. Taking aim at the soldiers, he slowly inhaled and exhaled. After that, the trigger was squeezed. 2 rounds were fired in quick succession by him, each bursting through the glass and forming spiderweb patterns. Then the bullets found themselves in each Saderans' heads.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE! RUN!" yelled Johnson. Everyone in the restaurant complied and soon exited through the back door, running to safety. It had only been around 20 minutes and scenes exactly like this were playing across the island of Manhattan.
Johnson looked behind his shoulder and ran back to the Patrol Officer, but he was too late. The officer had already disappeared and a dragon had landed, its rider examining the hat that the man dropped. Another bullet was fired from the 9mm pistol, killing the rider. Johnson attempted to shoot the dragon but his rounds were obviously not doing anything. The whole magazine was emptied but rounds still ricocheted off the dragon's tough hide. It looked straight at Johnson. He ran for his life once more.
A man dressed in tactical gear was firing his fully automatic rifle into the horde of men on horseback. Nearly 13 police officers were already dead, and one of his men currently had an arrow lodged in his shoulder and was in a hospital a few blocks away. 8th Avenue was a warzone, as 50 police officers fought with tooth and nail against the legion before them.
"THERE'S TOO MANY OF 'EM! WE'RE GONNA GET OVERRUN!" yelled another member of the ESU. By that point, the ESU had already gunned down hundreds of men yet the enemy kept coming. Morale was on the verge of breaking as things that should not have existed, for example, pig-men and dragons, were assaulting their position on the road. For several times the men had to duck behind cover as the dragon strafed their armored cars with some form of fire. Though it wasn't effective, the armor on their vehicles wasn't going to last forever.
"WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE REINFORCEMENTS?!" asked another officer nearby.
"THEY'RE ALREADY ENGAGING THE ENEMY ELSEWHERE!" replied the team commander. When he was briefed a few minutes earlier, he did not know that he was fighting off thousands of men! Hell, they just said it was a mass casualty incident, not as bad as St. Patrick's Day 1954!
And this was the thing that stumped the commander. For all intents and purposes, these men and creatures had come straight out of a fantasy book. This should not have been happening at all. Terrorists with rifles were supposed to be shooting at him, not orcs charging at him!
"RELOADING!" yelled another man to his right. It had been several minutes and the officers were shooting at the cavalry with all they had: assault rifles and pistols. Regardless, it wouldn't be enough to stop the whole charge. Some people started throwing smoke grenades down the crowded street, temporarily disrupting the Romans and allowing for continued automatic fire.
Out of the corner of his vision, a man dressed in jeans and a black shirt was running towards them.
"GIVE ME A GUN! I'M AN OFF-DUTY SOLDIER!" yelled Johnson. Johnson pulled out his wallet and hastily showed the officers his military ID.
The team commander ran over and gave Johnson a shotgun, normally meant for door-breaching, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was stopping these bastards. Racking the slide and loading 7 shells in, Johnson then aimed. 12 gauge buckshot exited the barrel and its pellets killed a rider on horseback, his body slumping over to the side.
Washington, D.C.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY 'NEW YORK'S BEING ATTACKED?!" yelled the President at a monitor in the situation room.
"Sir, casualties are estimated to be in the thousands. This thing is as bad as the St. Patrick's Day Raids. The NYPD have cordoned off Times Square but they're losing ground every minute. There's thousands of them!" replied the monitor, or rather General Harrison.
"Where's the National Guard?" asked the President.
"They're en route, sir. ETA 3 hours," replied General Harrison.
"3 hours?"
"Yes sir, the live ammunition is located at Fort Dix, a few miles south of New York. There's nothing I can do unless you want me to send troops in barehanded. Our aircraft are able to reach New York within 25 minutes though, sir."
"Well, can the NYPD hold them?"
"Yes, but 8th Avenue is practically a warzone. They have a SWAT team blockading the street but they only have so much ammunition. Commissioner Kelly has ordered reinforcements to be sent there but we don't know their current status."
"Do we even know who we're being attacked by? Who the hell are they?" chimed the Secretary of Defense, currently sitting beside the President in the situation room.
"We don't know who it is, but photos have been taken at the scene. I'll show them. I do have to say that these images are in no way doctored or edited at all." said the monitor.
The large screen in front of the table soon lit up, and images of Roman soldiers on horseback stabbing a man, a dragon attacking an armored SWAT car, a Roman sexually assaulting a woman and other acts of barbarity flashed across the screen.
The President was absolutely enraged. Everyone in that room was. At that moment, they weren't looking at some fantasy movie stills. This was real. Hundreds of their people had been killed, or worse.
"I want you to use everything you got to kill those motherfuckers," replied President Orris coldly.
"Yes, sir."
If only the Saderan Empire knew they were attacking the same people who unleashed nearly 20 nukes over Germany. The same people who launched a massive invasion of a tiny backwater African nation just because of a border incident. The same people who glassed a whole city due to the actions of a few hundred extremists. On that day, they also attacked another world.
The Empire didn't know it then, but they were already dead.
New York City
Sergeant Dorbel was not having a good day. In fact, it was a rather horrible day. The NYPD had never suffered losses like this before. His SWAT team would be overrun at any second, even with the help of the ex-military man. The truth was, they were all running out of ammunition. All of them were down to their last magazine, hell some cops were even firing their service pistols at the never-ending horde. Dorbel himself was down to his last magazine on his assault rifle. While the NYPD had already sealed off the main roads out of Times Square and had successfully cordoned off and evacuated most buildings within a 5-mile radius, if this blockade failed, the Romans would successfully breach the cordon and wreak even more havoc. Up ahead, Johnson noticed that several archers were reloading their bows and aiming at the sky. A massive barrage of arrows soon appeared above.
"GET TO COVER!" yelled the Corporal as he ducked under a SWAT car. The rest of the officers there followed his orders, finding cover by crawling under cars, entering the cars themselves, or running into the nearby skyscrapers. Dorbel was in a state of shock and did not hear Johnson.
"SIR, GET TO-" the chubby officer was interrupted mid-sentence as an arrow suddenly appeared through his police hat. His body slumped over and collapsed on the ground. The police sergeant could only look in horror as the rest of the arrow barrage hit their targets, mainly the windows of some skyscrapers and the street. This was followed by a thunderous roar from the soldiers a few meters in front of the archers, running and charging on horseback.
"WE CAN'T STOP THEM! WE'RE OUT OF AMMUNITION COMPLETELY!" hollered an officer, currently shooting at the charging men and orcs with his sidearm. A giant ogre a few meters in front had been shot several times but the ogre simply shrugged off the shots and continued walking. A few seconds later and it began charging."
"HOLY FUCK! EVERYONE TARGET THAT OGRE!"
Being the nearest one to Dorbel, Johnson pointed his semi-automatic shotgun at the rampaging beast. 3 shots were fired rapidly into the hulking beast's head. Although the ogre's hide was very tough, 3 buckshot shells to the head still dazed the thing. This was followed by several 5.56mm bursts into the creature's head, finally killing it. The thing was almost like a tank.
Up ahead, the police officers noticed that the legions were... different. A purple forcefield had surrounded the front of the charge and deflected everything short of a .50 cal trying to penetrate it. An officer had already been injured by a ricochet from his own bullet.
"THEY'VE GOT FUCKIN' MAGIC!" barked Dorbel.
Dorbel began trying to think of a way to disable a mage, then realized something. Just because it deflected bullets did not mean that it blocked any other forms of energy, such as light and sound. And you know what produces light and sound? A flashbang.
Sgt. Eric Dorbel then pulled out a flashbang from his vest pocket and threw it at the mage. The stun grenade detonated in front of the mage and instantly blinded him. The mage went from seeing 3 black armored cars to just seeing white while his eardrums had exploded.
"THE FORCE-FIELD'S GOIN' DOWN!"
"EVERYONE, TARGET THAT MAGE!"
Everyone heeded his orders and several officers mag-dumped their pistols into the mage. By the end of the firing, the mage resembled a bloody pulp. Sudden panic began to take root in the charge up ahead, as their only means of defense was gone: the purple forcefield went down. Some soldiers in front stopped briefly, gripped by fear, only to have the political commissars behind them stab the soldiers straight through the heart. Some had yelled at the Saderan cavalrymen to press the attack. And press the attack they did, as several hundred horses, goblins, orcs, and humans began running.
"Oh fuck."
"WE DON'T HAVE ENOUGH AMMUNITION TO STOP THE CHARGE!"
"WHERE ARE THE REINFORCEMENTS!"
Confused shouts of panic filled the air until a low whirring sound had appeared above. Everyone looked up, to see a single attack helicopter. The Saderan cavalrymen stopped their horses, glancing at the machine above.
"YOU HAVE 10 SECONDS TO EVACUATE FROM THE PREMISES. 10. 9. 8…" blurted a deafening speaker on the helicopter.
Dorbel, Johnson, and the rest of the police task force began sprinting in the opposite direction from the helicopter.
Then, the 6 barreled autocannon on the bottom of the helicopter began rotating rapidly. Several hundred 20mm rounds soon spewed out of it, each aimed at the legion. Thousands of men quickly turned into a bloody mess, similar to tomato paste, while the dragons above were targeted by jet fighters. Windows, hit by stray autocannon fire shattered and showered glass on the currently panicking legions, adding to the body count. Hot brass showered the armored cars below. Some dragon riders never even knew what hit them, because the air to air missiles was usually fired from hundreds of meters away.
Dorbel and his men had never been so glad to see a helicopter before.
Count Formal could obviously tell when a rout had happened. After all, he didn't get to the rank of Legate without actually learning, unlike some corrupted people in the Empire. As he sat in his temporary command camp in the center of Times Square, he pondered if he was ever going to see his family again. The other side's city had been colossal, its buildings easily dwarfing any of Sadera's. A thought suddenly made its way through his brain.
If the people here are capable of such architectural marvels without the help of magic, what else could they do? Could they kill me in the blink of an eye?
After all, if he died, Myui would be on her own leading the city of Italica. An eleven-year-old girl did not deserve that much stress. Hell, no one did. Formal sipped his drink meanwhile, frowning as he saw one of his soldiers 'enjoying' one of the other side's women. Her shouts of pain resonated across the busy camp, disturbing Formal. He himself had been a byproduct of rape and was often bullied and even had his arm snapped as a kid when the other kids found out. Formal was a genuinely good man, something that can't be said for most of the Empire's people. His thought process was soon interrupted by a frantic panting messenger running into his camp.
"SIR, I BRING THE MOST TERRIBLE NEWS! CERVI'S LEGION HAS BEEN COMPLETELY ANNIHILATED!" yelled the panicking messenger. The man's face was stained red, concerning Formal.
"Where is Leonidas's legion then?"
"LEONIDAS HAS BEEN CAPTURED BY THE ENEMY! HIS LEGION HAS BEEN COMPROMISED BY THE WHITE SMOKE THAT THE ENEMY FIRED AT THEM!"
"What of the other legions and our dragons?"
"ALL OF THEM HAVE BEEN WIPED OUT! THE 3RD LEGION IS DOWN TO 10 MEN, CURRENTLY RETREATING! THE IRON WARBIRDS OF THIS WORLD HAVE COMPLETELY ANNIHILATED OUR AIRBORNE FORCES!"
Formal felt true panic and fear as he had just learned that his dragon force was completely wiped out. Sadera's dragon riders were among the best in their world, with even enemy elite troops scared of them. There was an old myth that said that just 4 dragons had subjugated the whole of the ancient Kingdom of Ictan. But this was not the time to be remembering myths, as 3 legions had been wiped out to nearly a man. Seeing no other options, Formal ordered the only thing he could order. A retreat.
"I've heard enough. We've been routed. I'm ordering a fullscale retreat."
"BUT SIR, WE CAN STILL BEAT THEM! THE EMPIRE IS GLORI-"
The poor messenger never quite got to finish his sentence as several hundred high-caliber machine gun rounds ripped the camp apart, instantly killing Formal and the rest of the legionnaires in Times Square. For Count Formal and his men, it was the end. For the 3 worlds, it was just the beginning.
Zorzal's Palace
Date Unknown
Mary woke up, only to find a gag bound over her mouth, and a blindfold obstructing her vision. The rhythmic clattering of the horseshoes on the ground had indicated to her that she was in a wagon and on the move. Her hands were tied together, but she still managed to slightly pull down her blindfold, only to see 4 women, 1 with bunny ears, and 2 men, who were also gagged, tied and blindfolded. Additionally, all of them had been roughed up in one way or another, as bruises and cuts almost formed a sort of pattern on their bodies.
"HELP!" screamed Mary. The wagon stopped abruptly and she saw the silhouettes of 3 men walking up to the wagon. Off in the distance, Prince Zorzal ran over to the wagon, annoyed by the screaming.
Zorzal soon opened up the flap behind the wagon and got to see his new slaves. Licking his lips hungrily, he began to imagine what we would do to them.
For Mary, it was a fate crueler than death. She had been kidnapped by the Imperial Scouts sent to survey the area a few days before the initial incursion, and she did not know where her family was. Now, she was a slave.
CLASSIFIED LOCATION
April 18, 2013
Leonidas woke up in a cold sweat, nearly hitting his head against the back of the chair he was sitting in. On his arm, he noticed that a small incision and hole was on his arm, precisely matching up with his veins.
Did they inject poison in me?
As he slowly came into his senses, a dull synthetic light from the ceiling above came into his vision.
Where the hell am I? thought Leonidas. Glancing around the room, he noticed that the walls were completely white and that there was a metal table in front of him. On the table was an opened book filled with seemingly random characters that he had never seen before. Confused, he examined the paper more closely to see that there were several images of his men on the piece of paper. These drawings were so detailed and accurate that there was no way a scribe drew them. Additionally, there was no way a scribe could have drawn his men as they were in the middle of a war zone in a densely packed urban area.
A creak came from the door to the side of him, and a man in an immaculate black suit walked in slowly with a briefcase. Sliding another chair out of the table, the man-in-black took a seat. The leather briefcase was placed on the table and he opened it. A bright glowing steel laptop came out of it.
A steel book? thought Leonidas as he saw the laptop.
"Where are you from?" asked the man in broken, albeit understandable, Saderan.
"I come from the-" Leonidas paused, knowing full well he was not supposed to give an enemy agent information, but he felt his resolve weakening. After all, what did he have to gain in keeping secrets?
"Empire."
"How strong is your Empire?"
"The strongest. The Saderan Empire is the largest nation in Falmart, and has several vassal kingdoms who obey its will as well."
"What is Falmart?"
"The continent the Empire is located on. The only continent in our world. Some crazy mages say that there is a second continent somewhere on the other side of the planet, but we all know that is not true."
"Mages?" Mike's eyebrows perked up as if they were dumbfounded.
"Mages are skilled people who are trained in the art of magic. It takes years to learn it, and even longer to master it. Magic can be used in a lot of ways, for example, you can heal someone with it, or you can throw fireballs at your enemies."
Mechanical clicking was heard from the laptop once again with Mike's fingers working it like it was magic.
"How many soldiers does your Empire have? What is its population as well?"
"Roughly a million soldiers, and around 100 million people."
The man stopped for a moment, typing something into the tablet, then continued with the questions. He asked several questions about the Empire's capabilities, military strength, additional magic, religions, etc. By the end of the day, the intelligence officer had known nearly everything about the Empire. He was appalled by the mass slavery present in the Empire but he had to still do his job.
"Thank you for answering these questions. Is there anything you would like?" replied the intelligence officer.
"I want to be free."
Interrogator Mike Smith could only smirk as he answered the request.
"Denied."
Leonidas slumped back into his chair. There was no way he was getting out of here in the foreseeable future. They would probably kill him now.
Mike watched the man slump back into the chair. He soon realized a titanic opportunity was presenting itself on a silver platter.
"Leonidas, how would you like to work for us?" Mike smirked as he asked the question.
"Never."
"We currently have 100 of your men in rooms exactly like this. If you do not comply, then we will have to... dispose... of them."
Mike was bluffing but he had to play the cards right. Reports were saying that these Saderans were highly patriotic and that one of the interrogators had nearly been strangled by the soldiers.
Seeing no other choice, Leonidas decided to accept the deal.
"How can I trust you?"
Right after Leonidas asked his question, a loud clatter was heard. Turning his attention to the source of the sound, located at the center of the table, he saw a bag full of Gold bars, silver bars, diamonds.
Mike smiled at Leonidas.
In the immediate aftermath of the Manhattan attacks, the United Nations was in full panic mode. An enemy attack had just occurred in the heart of the strongest nation in the world, despite the fact that there was no way any enemy force could have invaded it. Soon, scientists traced the invasion back to the translucent palace. Many people wanted the whole island of Manhattan to be evacuated and turned into a massive military base, but cooler heads prevailed. If the whole of Manhattan was to be evacuated, the US economy would be hurt immensely as the Wall Street Stock Exchange would essentially be useless. Instead, a base of operations was set up in Times Square, with all buildings within a mile radius being evacuated. Barbed wire, machine gun nests, and walls were constructed to block the roads coming out of Times Square, and a no-fly zone was imposed over the Square as well. One Times Square itself was the headquarters of the base of operations, constantly guarded by snipers and heavily armed guards. As for the Gate itself, 4 20 foot tall walls around 4 feet thick were constructed around the Gate, as well as a dome on top to completely mask the building. It is notable that the walls used to cover the palace were of the same design as the ones used to guard the Berlin Quarantine Zone. Corporal Dylan Johnson was promoted to Sergeant and was given the Soldier's Medal for his brave actions in directing the evacuation of several dozen civilians, as well as risking his life to shoot at the Saderan cavalrymen and assisting the NYPD in blocking off 8th Avenue. Many news outlets branded him as "The Savior of Manhattan" after camera footage of him in civilian clothes shooting at the Saderans along with the NYPD went viral and hit several news stations. The media rapidly divulged themselves into Johnson's life, something which he did not appreciate, and found out several weeks later that he was an Army RSTA specialist who had a deathly fear of parachutes. Johnson did not respond when asked for an interview.
A body count was conducted a day after the battle, and over 1,145 bodies in various states of mutilation were discovered, while an additional 12 people were marked as missing, likely having been kidnapped. As the monsters attacked early in the morning, aka rush hour, casualties were lower than what the city was expecting, which was upwards of several thousand. It is currently the deadliest enemy action in the continental United States, surpassing even the March 17th bombing raids by the German Luftwaffe during the Second World War. Several foreign nationals were also killed or captured, including 13 Canadians, 8 British, and 3 Australian nationals. 7 Indians and 4 Polish nationals were also killed during the attacks.
Some hot-headed politicians in Congress called for the destruction of the Gate, including notable Freedom Party* Congressional Representative Paul Jackson, but President Orris reasoned that if the Gate was destroyed, another attack could pop up somewhere across the world. That could not be allowed to happen. Several contingency plans were drawn up to enter the Gate, some even detailing massive nuclear saturation attacks on the world, but conventional means were preferred. After all, this was a pre-industrial society. Additionally, if this world had any valuable resources, the US would just be shooting itself in the foot. The President asked Congress for a declaration of war. None opposed it.
The US ultimately decided to send an expeditionary force through the Gate, along with a regiment-sized UN task force, consisting of mostly Commonwealth and Polish units. An Indian infantry company was also allowed to accompany the expeditionary force, as 7 Indian nationals were also killed. Anything else and the American public would be outraged. In a few weeks, the Falmart Expeditionary Force would be sent through the Gate. In a very similar world, the JSDF was also preparing to send troops through the Gate, accompanied by US spec-ops and intelligence units.
Washington, D.C.
April 18, 2013
President Orris walked up to the podium in his black suit and blue tie. As he looked over the crowd of thousands in front of the White House, he felt a surge of patriotism through his mind. He was about to deliver the world's most important speech. Millions of people, from the Moon to Mars, were watching this broadcast. It would mark the beginning of a new era for the world.
"My fellow Americans, I have come to inform you about the despicable attacks on New York." Orris paused for a moment, glancing over the paper.
"But first, we must start with some history. Nearly 60 years ago, our great nation was also attacked in a horrendous orgy of flame and fury." Of course, everyone knew he was mentioning the St. Patrick's Day Raids.
"Despite this, we have rebuilt and emerged as the strongest nation in the world. A new era dawned over the world, dominated by us. The Long Peace began when we were attacked."
"Just yesterday, the enemy has once again attacked us. Thousands of innocent men, women, and children were slaughtered mercilessly by this army. New York itself has been heavily damaged, over 1000 people dead. We have also discovered that the enemy has kidnapped our citizens and took them back through the Gate." Orris shuddered. Now, everyone in America would be calling for the total destruction of the Empire. The last time American citizens were taken as slaves sparked a brutal civil war, and it seemed that a war was brewing.
"I give my condolences to the families of those affected by the attack. The people who did this are not human. They do not deserve to be called humans. They are rabid dogs."
Several dozen people in the crowd yelled in agreement with the President until several guards ordered them to be quiet.
"Do you want to know the reason why they attacked us?"
Yells of "yeah" were ushered through the crowd of several thousand standing in front of the President.
"According to FBI and CIA reports, they attacked us because they could. They kidnapped our people because they could. They raped and pillaged us because they could. They think we are a filthy degenerate nation."
The crowd went berserk as he said that, some even screaming. The Secret Service and DC police had to physically restrain some individuals.
"These savages attacked us for no reason. We shall show them the wrath of God. As I speak, an expeditionary force is being prepared to go through the portal. This scourge shall be wiped off the face of the Earth. The fallen shall be avenged, while those responsible will suffer."
And with that, the President ended his speech.
Fort Hamilton
April 21st, 2013
"Man, this fucking sucks ass," whispered Johnson, clearly dismayed with the fact that he had to take language learning classes. In the aftermath of the incident, some intelligence spooks had managed to translate parts of the Saderan language and quickly published a dictionary. When I say translate, I mean that they beat the fuck out of the prisoners until they understood what they were saying.
"It beats a lap around the base, that's for sure." barked a grunt to his right.
Johnson did not notice the soldier and continued doing the translation worksheet, the pencil in his hand gracefully moving in all sorts of directions. It was a pain in the ass to do these worksheets, as they were long, boring, and tedious. The sergeant was only halfway through the 10-page booklet. After a few minutes, Johnson was done translating the entirety of the questions before him. Now, it was time for physical training: a 5-kilometre run, an obstacle course, and a live-fire exercise.
After the courses were complete, the grunts in the base crowded around the television in their barracks, watching the news footage of the recent attacks.
Global Cable News practically blasted Johnson's face across its channel, painting him as the "man who saved Manhattan," something which he clearly disagreed with.
"There were a lot of good guys there. It's bullshit how they're only focusing on me." stated a rather irked Johnson.
"Personally, Sarge, you should just accept it. It's not every day someone gets to become famous overnight," replied a PFC to his right.
The news footage continued to play, displaying rather graphic scenes. For example, a video from a New York National Guard trooper's helmet cam went viral. He was the gunner in the Humvee that was part of the clean-up operations, meant to root out any remaining Imperials.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this footage can get quite graphic. We recommend you remove any children from the room." stated the news anchor.
The video then played. The first 30 seconds or so were uneventful, just the man driving around for a few moments. Eventually, 3 armored cars, 5 dented up patrol cars, and several dozen men appeared on the screen. The .50 cal gunner promptly yelled at a SWAT officer in the middle of the road to get out of the way. Just 2 seconds after he yelled, the Browning was locked back. Several small puffs of smoke appeared in front of his barrel, and the cavalrymen in front died in rather horrific ways. The Saderan warriors in front were torn in half by the machine gun rounds, with each round hitting with a force equivalent to 4000 joules.
"Jesus. I don't remember there being that much blood." said the Sergeant. As he spoke, the TV switched to a discussion segment. Two pudgy men sat in a couch, each arguing with one another.
"You see here, Mark, their armor is virtually identical to the ancient Romans. Hell, their tactics are the same as well!"
Lt. Alan walked up and grabbed the TV remote off the table and proceeded to switch the channel to something else. Ironically, the channel he switched to was playing a movie about the assassination of Julius Caesar.
"The hell did you do that for?"
"I ain't watching 2 fatasses debate about whether they are actually Romans or fake Romans."
Johnson simply sighed. The next few weeks of preparation to go through the Gate are going to be grueling.
Times Square Command Center
April 22nd, 2013
"Do you have the drone setup?" Lt. General Harrison asked the rather young operator sitting at a desk in the corner of the room. The A4 needed eyes in the other world and they needed it now.
"Sir, the Eagle drone is ready. It'll broadcast live footage to us, London, Canberra, Ottawa, and Geneva." One of the secondary objectives of this mission was to allow their allies to get an eye in the otherworld as well. After all, knowledge was the best weapon. As for the drone, it was armed with a few cruise missiles as well as additional 20mm machine guns if everything went horribly wrong.
Down in the ground, several people were wheeling the drone into the Gate walls. In the past 48 hours, the walls had been upgraded to deflect everything short of a low-yield nuclear weapon and a nuclear-resistant blast door covered the entrance. The giant mouth of the Gate opened, almost like it was a predator preparing to devour its prey. A more accurate comparison would be if that prey happened to be armed with the deadliest weapons the predator had ever seen.
As the blast doors opened, the VTOL-capable drone was activated. The operator began moving the joystick linked to his computer around and pressed several keys nearby. Within a few seconds, the Eagle had begun hovering. It was shaped like one of our own Predator drones, but just a little bulkier at the end, to allow for its VTOL capability. Flicking the switches, the camera feed was soon turned on.
"The live-feed is on, sir."
Soon after that, the drone began its descent into the other side. As it slowly flew through the Gate-tunnel, many in the room felt a sort of dread. Some people had expected a Lovecraftian abomination to suddenly pop up on the screen, while others feared that the other side was already closed. It was a surreal experience watching the drone fly through the space tunnel. The oddest thing was that the sides of the tunnel seemed to be indefinite like there was nothing there.
After a few minutes of nothing, a light slowly began to appear on the drone's camera.
"Focus on that thing," ordered the General.
The operator moved the scale dial up a few times with his finger. With each dial adjustment, the image snapped then enlarged. Eventually, the light became much more definite in its appearance. Silhouettes of trees and rocks began to snap into existence until the light was the only thing on the other side of the portal. It was unmistakable what they had just found. The end of the Gate.
Eagle 01 continued its journey into the other side and finally breached through the light.
"We've reached the other side, sir. Do I proceed on?"
"Yes, continue on."
Following Harrison's orders, his hands slowly moved the joystick forward. Corresponding with his actions, the drone did the same as well. They were in the other side now. There was no turning back. Immediately, pictures were snapped and transmitted back to the main command center.
"Get me eyes on the Gate in that side of the world."
Rotating, the camera was now directed towards the Gate entrance on this side of the world. It looked exactly the same as the one in New York and it also appeared to be made out of the same material: a translucent, fiberglass-like substance. Then, out of nowhere, an arrow suddenly flew past the camera.
"The fuck was that? I want eyes on whatever the fuck that was!"
Eagle 01 slowly spun around, almost like an eagle looking for its next mouse to feed on. A few seconds later, and it spotted the mouse. Or rather, mice. A platoon of Saderan soldiers spread out across a hill in front of the camera.
"FIRE AT THAT UNHOLY BEAST, MEN!" ordered Legate Sicaru. His men soon followed their commander's instructions, going to reload their bows and arrows while they ducked behind the infantry's shields. Everyone placed their hopes in the shields, as they were made out of the most durable materials that the Empire knew of. Unfortunately for the Saderans, durable for them meant that it was weak as hell for the iron war bird.
Another volley of arrows was fired, all aimed at the strange metallic creature. Around 2 had actually managed to lodge themselves in the drone, eliciting cheers from the foot soldiers.
"They're fucking shooting at it!"
"Shall I engage them, sir?"
"You are cleared to fire."
As fast as Sicaru could blink, two 20mm autocannons fired upon his men. Its effect was devastating, as the men in the open field were easy pickings for the machine gun. Upon impact with the massive round, whole bodyparts would get blown off completely, or disappear in fine red mists.
Sicaru was practically screaming for his life, attempting to run from the war bird. Say what you want about the Legate, but he wasn't an idiot. He instantly inferred that the loud sounds and weird streaks of green came from the drone, and ran in a zig-zag pattern to escape.
"Sir, HELP ME!" hollered a soldier to his left. The poor man was hit by the machine gun, as his legs were practically detached from his body, only hanging on by a single thread. Crawling, the grunt tried to make his way to his commander. Sicaru ignored him and continued running to his horse, a few dozen meters away.
The General walked up to the drone operator and ordered him not to target the leader running away.
"Why sir?"
"He'll spread the rumors about how strong we are. Now, wait for him to get on his horse."
The operator complied and patiently waited, watching the man get on his horse and gallop away. After that, a single cruise missile was fired at the hill, wiping out the few dozen men left on it. Was it overkill? Yes, it was. But the A4 needed to send a message. They were not a force to be fucked with.
The Eagle 1 mission served as the UN's first real offensive action against the Saderan Empire, and also the only piece of information that the UN could have safely gotten at that time. What they found out during that mission was invaluable. For starters, the Gate COULD be traversed, as evidenced by the fact that the drone had accidentally hit a very hard surface near the bottom of the space-tunnel several times. This meant that vehicles could traverse across, allowing for a real military operation. Additionally, Eagle 1 had proved that offensive action was possible in the first place and that no Lovecraftian abomination was waiting for them at the other end.
Meanwhile, in Ginza, Lt. General Hazama authorized a similar mission to go underway. This mission was virtually identical to Eagle 1's, reconnaissance. Although the US and JSDF's Predator drones did not pick up anything, besides a few pilgrims traveling to Alnus Hill. In the following weeks, both sides would send Special Operations teams through the Gate.
Imperial Capital
April 28th, 2013
To say that Emperor Augustus was displeased was an understatement. Molt was practically mad, for quite an understandable reason, as nearly 7 legions had been destroyed during their failed assault on both worlds. Now, rumors of flying demons wiping out a whole legion near Bellnahgo had spread like wildfire. The Emperor wondered what he was going to do next. His train of thought had soon been interrupted as Count Marx had walked into the room, delivering important news.
Marx unrolled a scroll of paper and begin reading off it.
"Sir, the Allied Kingdoms have stated that they shall place their firm support behind us during this time of need."
"Well, that is good. What of the news about our Gate near Bellnahgo and the one at Alnus?" While saying this, Augustus slowly stroked his chin in contemplation.
"Pontus has ordered several legions to surround the one at Bellnahgo, while Savagi has sent the 1st, 12th, and 15th Legions to surround Alnus Hill. Additional reinforcements are also expected," replied Marx, still reading off of the paper.
"What of the men who came back from the Gate? How many survived?"
"Less than 20, sir."
Molt shook his head.
"While the news of the defeat in the 2 worlds has been very... upsetting, we have captured dozen or so slaves from the other world, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then we shall torture them for information."
"Unfortunately sir, Prince Zorzal has already taken 5 of them for his own," Marx proceeded to cough, as he did not like reporting Zorzal's activities to his father, then continued on, "Personal use, sir. 7 of the other slaves are currently working in Diabo's mines."
"That fool. We could interrogate them for information while my damn son is currently busy fucking one of those whores." Augustus shook his head.
"Doesn't he already have a whore anyway? What happened to that bitch Tyuule?" Tyuule, Queen of the Warrior Bunnies, had been one of Zorzal's favored sex slaves. She had offered herself up to Zorzal during his conquest of the Warrior Bunnies, hoping that in return he would spare her people. Zorzal took her offer but backstabbed her anyways, still ordering his soldiers to massacre every last one of the rabbits. Now, no one had a positive opinion about Tyuule as Zorzal deliberately spread misinformation that Tyuule sold her people out to save her own flesh.
"Apparently, he beat her so much that she couldn't 'please' him today."
Molt sighed.
"Have our enemies done any offensive actions? And what are their capabilities?"
"Not yet, sir. And both of them harness magic rather easily, according to the survivors, and each of their warriors holds black staff-like weapons. We still do not know how the staffs work, but we have managed to capture a few from one of their fallen soldiers. From preliminary tests and examinations of our wounded men, pieces of metal have been found in them. The mages are theorizing that the staff works as a sort of ballista, firing these small metal pieces. Additionally, their carriages and wagons do not require horses to move, baffling even the mages at Rondel."
"Interesting. Order the mages to continue their research. Other than that, I believe this meeting is over." Marx promptly walked out of the room, scroll in hand. Molt then sat back in his throne, pondering on what he had to do.
In the following weeks after the failed invasion, the Empire had effectively surrounded the Gate. Over 600,000 men, nearly 66 percent of the army, were guarding the Bellnahgo Gate and Alnus Gate. During this time, 2 A4 special forces teams were sent through the Gate, armed with thousands of rounds of subsonic ammunition and suppressed weapons. Their night vision goggles and skull masks were usually the last things many soldiers saw before they were brought down to Hardy's domain. Many soon started to believe that these people were angels of Hardy and were literally dragging people down to Hell. The teams were important assets, as they found out that the air was breathable in this world, meaning that nuclear-biological-chemical suits were not necessary to traverse this land. One U.S. cell had actually managed to buy a house in the red light district of the Capital and begin discreetly monitoring high-ranking Imperial figures in the area.
When the FEF arrived through the Gate a few weeks later, they would find out they already had a very large presence in the capital. While the locals thought they were just new crime lords with sophisticated magic, they were, in fact, part of the United States Special Operations Command.
Imperial Capital - Red Light District
May 19th, 2013
Over 500 Saderan soldiers had disappeared in a timespan of 2 weeks. Everyone was on edge, as they feared the Men-In-Black would come for them next. Whole crime families were found dead; the only things found at their death sites being cards emblazoned with skulls on them as if they were agents of Hardy herself.
The most mysterious things about the Men-In-Black was that their victims usually died upon just seeing them. A small hole would later appear in their bodies, bleeding out a lot. It was theorized by much of the criminals that the Men would simply stare at you with their piercing gaze and you would die. Fortunately, infantry grunt Caelia did not believe those stories. After all, they were probably just the beastmen that constantly preyed on vulnerable people here in this area.
He sat down on the rock and began cleaning his spear when he heard some rustling in the bushes behind him.
He turned around, only to find a strange black cylinder obscuring his vision.
Caelia never even felt the subsonic bullet go through his head. The Special Forces commander soon appeared from the shadows, as if he were a demon coming from hell, and stripped the body naked. They needed the Roman uniforms so they could blend in with the locals.
On paper, they were never here.
Across Space and Time
Unknown
Hardy screamed in delight while viewing the Gates from her celestial viewpoint; the other-worlders were finally entering the Gate. Emroy had placed a bet with her that if the armies did not cross, then Rory would not marry Hardy. Suffice to say, Hardy had won that bet rather handily. Hell, she was already hiring the angels to plan the bachelorette party for her then-
The sound of a door opening and slamming against the wall resonated throughout her viewpoint. She looked behind her and began summoning a spear, after all, someone had rudely interrupted her while she was enjoying the moment. To her surprise, Emroy was standing in the doorway, neatly dressed in the suit and tie he always wore.
"You have lost the bet, Emroy. Now, give me your Apostle," said Hardy as she examined his outfit from head to toe. Her voice had a rather silky quality to it, capable of easily persuading anybody who wasn't an Apostle to obey her.
"Rory won't be marrying you, Hardy." stated the stoic Emroy. Emroy then covered his ears with his hands, preparing for the inevitable screams that would come next.
"Wha- we had a bet! You fucking SNAKE!" shrieked the goddess. The scream was loud enough to partially shatter some windows in the room she was in. Some objects were even vibrating at a frequency that should not have been possible. Just as he predicted.
Emroy simply sighed.
"I crossed my fingers when I placed that bet, y'know." stated the now smirking Emroy. An image soon manifested in his hand from thin air, clearly displaying his crossed fingers. In the background of the image, a smiling Hardy could clearly be seen shaking Emroy's hand.
"This was taken when we placed the bet around 25 years ago."
"You're a fucking bitch, you know that Emroy?" hollered a rather angry Hardy. A fire soon manifested in her hand and her pupils were literally blood-red.
"Hardy, you should have known better. I'm not gonna let you marry my Apostle. You've been trying for nearly a millennium. Please stop, she looks barely 15-"
Emroy stopped midsentence as Hardy threw a flaming bolt at him. He sidestepped and turned his head to the right, dodging the bolt.
"Chill, holy shit, chill!"
"Get the fuck out of here, or I'll continue lobbing these at you!" ordered a now furious Hardy. She looked ready to kill and if a mortal saw her gaze, they would die in a rather horrible way.
Needless to say, Emroy soon dissipated.
I'll win over her heart one day, thought Hardy. For 870 years and counting, Hardy had tried to propose to Rory, only to be denied every single time. Sometimes, Emroy would purposely sabotage her plans anyway so that when she did try to impress Rory, she would look like a bumbling idiot. Then there was her own Apostle, Giselle. Giselle had been a loyal servant, but she was DEFINITELY not into draconians. No, she had a certain affinity for girls like Rory. Perhaps, she should enlist the help of her Apostle to try and get Rory to fall for her. She'd propose to her this time. Unfortunately, the last time she tried to propose roughly 55 years ago, Rory screamed so loudly in the Plane of the Gods that Giselle had to physically restrain her and explain to Emroy that she had just stubbed her toe. But hey, 530th time is the charm, right?
* - The United States in the A4 world is not dominated by two parties.