A/N:

...

Thanks again to Lunar Knight Archangel for proofreading everything before the submission. Really appreciate it man.

"…" - Spoken dialogue

Italics - Michael's thoughts

'Italics' - Telepathic dialogue

/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene


Ch. 23 - Black and Red

The doors opened, and not a single enemy greeted them. All four of them cautiously walked outside, ready to shoot at the slightest movement. The cracked flooring before them served as the only thing remaining of the first floor. There was smoke everywhere, with the stench of charred bodies in the mix, rising from the lower floors. Michael cautiously looked over the side. Bodies littered the floor, more of them being in uniform. "Shit - they're making their way down. We gotta get the fuck down there!"

"Main elevators are down too," Kevin said after taking notice of the smoldering wreckage towards the back. The very mountain shook slightly, and an ear-splitting roar permeated the air, far more prominent than the constant sound of gunfire. "What was that?!"

"I don't know, but it sure as hell can't be good," John stated. "We'll have to make a jump for it."

"How far?" the copilot asked.

"Looks to be about twelve feet," John said. "We'll be fine. Sure as hell wouldn't wanna stay here for long." Another tremor, followed by a loud crash. The remnants of the floor were beginning to crumble. "Look, either we jump or we fall!" Everyone neared the edge and jumped over. They impacted the ground harshly, but had managed to stick the landing. A gunshot went off behind Michael, and he jumped. Kevin had shot a guy that had been waiting in the corner with a rifle.

"Nice going." Kevin made his way to the fallen enemy's body and picked up the rifle.

"They're using M4's. Should be able to pick up their ammo."

"Good, we'll need it." He looked over at the elevator, then peered over the edge. The car was long gone, likely destroyed in the explosions above. But that wasn't what seemed to catch his attention. "There are ladders here on the sides. Looks like it leads all the way down."

"So we got a way to get to the bottom floors?" Michael asked. "Let's go then!"

"Calm the fuck down. We'd be doing our friends down there more of a service if we keep these guys off their ass. We're in the perfect position to do that - they ain't expecting us from behind." As they positioned themselves on the ladders, the whole base violently shook, and they had to grip the rungs to keep themselves from being flung off. The roar returned, this time being drawn out and followed by several crashes.

"This place won't be standing much longer if this shit keeps up!" Kevin yelled. "What kind of a pokémon is that?"

"Hopefully one on our side," John said grimly. They hastily descended to past the third floor; all of the enemies had moved downward, but finally there was some level grounding below their feet. It would be a far better option for them to take the stairs instead. Michael climbed off onto the floor with his Tavor raised, before lowering it as he speedily made his way to the opposite corner. The others followed, and right when they were in the middle of the floor, a loud crackle went through their helmets.

"Comm lines are back up!" someone on the other end shouted. Great, we got one good thing going for us.

"Hello? Who's there?" John asked. The mic was shifted, passed along to someone else.

"Does anyone copy?" the Commander asked.

"We're here, third floor. All three of us made it back. What the hell is going on down there?"

"Groudon's fighting on the seventh floor - we're trying to give him backup the best we can, but these guys are everywhere!"

"How low have they gone?!" Michael asked.

"They've just made their way to our floor!"

"Shit, they're all the way down to eleven?!" Kevin asked.

"What about the living quarters?!"

"Everyone that can fight in the living quarters is doing just that. Those that can't have been evacuated to lower floors." That gave some sense of relief to Michael, but it was short lived. Two of his girls could fight. In the background of the comm line, gunfire was becoming more prominent. They could hear a slide racking; Wesley had pulled out his 1911. "Help Groudon first - shit goes wrong and he can accidentally level this place!"

They ran down the stairs, aiming towards each and every corner in anticipation. Michael's heart felt as though it would pound out of his chest as his breaths came out in rapid succession. As they ran lower, a thundering sound echoed throughout the entire base as a powerful earthquake started. They all lost their footing, trying to grasp the railing to keep from falling the entire flight. Yelling could be heard below, and Kevin slipped his M4 over the edge and checked the situation out. He immediately started firing, and Michael recovered his footing and ran down before sharply turning the corner and joining suit. Both of them hit their targets and head level, penetrating the metal helmets they wore.

"One more floor," John yelled over the commotion.

"Take the heat off of him!" Wesley ordered. "This place'll come down if we get another one like that!" As much as they all wanted to get to their friends and loved ones, everyone would perish if the base collapsed upon itself. Michael kept firing as more people tried to make their way up the stairs, replaced by John as he took cover to quickly reload. His hands were shaking, making it difficult to fit the magazine into the weapon. Everything he loved was an inch away from complete destruction. The others ran ahead of him to the doorway of the seventh floor, where an all-out battle was raging. He caught up to them after chambering a round and saw the chaotic scene.

Groudon was taking heavy fire from nearly all directions, and it was impossible to know just how many bullets were embedding themselves within the legendary as he blasted the enemies with searing shots of flame. Several walls had been completely leveled as a result of the fight, with pointed rocks jutting out from everywhere, and gunfire being exchanged from both sides. "Let's get these motherfuckers," Kevin said.

"Stick near Groudon and help him out!" the Commander stated. Gunshots were heard on Wesley's end of the mic as enemies infiltrated the room they were in. Michael and the others took note of the enemies taking cover within the remains of a drill room, peeking over the toppled wall to deliver fire to Groudon when he wasn't looking. Bullets impacted the back of his head, only seeming to fuel the massive pokémon's rage even more. He spun around and closed the distance between them much faster than anyone had expected. They tried to retreat, but he caught them with a scorching flamethrower, reducing them to nothingness in but a second. One guy screamed aloud as he clutched what was left of his arm, only to be silenced with an echoing stomp. As soon as he had taken care of those, though, he roared out in pain as projectiles struck him once again.

"Come on, let's get to work," John said. The four of them ran through the pile of debris in the middle of the room, with Kevin stopping momentarily to pick up a fallen M32 MGL among the bodies of the enemy.

"There's a hell of a lot of fire coming from over there!" he yelled, pointing towards the back corner of the building. "You guys distract them for a minute!" With that, he sprinted away from them, cutting through the last few standing structures on the floor. Meanwhile, John and Michael crawled over the pile of debris in order to get a better look at the threat. At least a dozen or so enemies were backed into the corner, having set up a trio of M2 machine guns facing each direction. The .50 caliber rounds had forced even the legendary to retreat to the other side of the room. It took only a second for them to be spotted, and neither had time to raise their rifles before they started taking fire. They quickly ducked and climbed down as the powerful rounds cut through the pile.

"S-shit," he copilot said as he clutched his pistol. "Oh shit… I-I'm not… trained for th-this…" With trembling hands, he tried to keep focused, but his fear was evident for anyone to see. John firmly placed his hand on the copilot's shoulder.
"What's your name?"

"C-Calvin…"

"Calvin? You'll be fine, you hear me? Just fine. Anyone comes, you just point it and shoot, alright? They're scared too - they don't want you to know that, but they are. So you just give those fuckers something to be scared of."

"I'll…t-try," he stammered.

"That's all you can do." John made his way to the corner of the wall, clutching his Tavor in preparation of using it. He studied the situation and noted the structure that Kevin had run through. "Michael, I'm gonna make a run for it over there. Once I draw in their fire, you start hitting 'em."

"Alright." John made sure to keep out of sight as he crept through the wreckage, slowly making his way towards what remained of the doorway. Michael looked around the edge, seeing John quickly raise his weapon and fire around the corner.

"Get down!" one of the enemies yelled. Most of them ducked behind their cover, but a few weren't so lucky. Their heads snapped back as a result of the unexpected fire, and they fell without another movement. John quickly retraced his steps as a lethal barrage followed him shortly after. Michael saw this as his chance to retaliate against the oblivious foes. He swung his rifle around the debris and quickly aimed at the two guys currently firing the machine guns. One of the two saw him, but wasn't quick enough in turning the .50 caliber weapon to face the Reaper. Michael pulled the trigger, and he dropped what he was doing and clutched his neck as a continuous red stream sprayed out. The others took cover once again, and Michael waited for once of them to raise their heads. He and John had them pinned down, and any sudden movement could be fatal.

One enemy decided to test his luck and jerked the M2, haphazardly pointing it towards Michael's general vicinity. Before he managed to actually aim, though, a quick explosion - and half of him was gone. Several more followed in quick succession, sending their bodies flying in each direction. "Nice work Kev," John said.

"Finish them off up there," Wesley yelled in between shots. "Then get your asses down h—." One shot in particular rang out.

"Commander?" Frantic yelling could be picked up on the other side, and over the firefight, someone came close.

"Fuck! Hawkins is down! I repeat, Hawkins is down!" he yelled to everyone in the room. No… it can't be… "Holy fuck! Someone get a medic in here right fucking now!" A shuffling sound could be heard as he took the earpiece out of the Commander's ear. "Does anyone copy?"

"Yeah, couple of Reapers here," John answered. "What's the situation like down there?"

"Twelve is mostly secured, but we're getting hammered here. We need all the help we can get!"

"What's the situation with the Commander?"

"He's been shot in the head! Fuckin' pouring blood all over the place. I don't know… I don't know."

"Alright, we'll be on our way!" Kevin yelled. "I think we've spent enough time up here! Groudon should be fine now!" The twelve foot tall legendary disposed of several enemies at once, each trying in vain to spray him down with their rifles, with a vicious sweep of his arm. Immediately shifting his attention towards an incoming group, he slammed his hand into the wall, causing the mountain to shake. Everyone lost their balance as another quick earthquake ensued, cracking the concrete walls of the facility as jagged spears of rock shot out, impaling every insurgent he had intended.

"Looks like it. Let's go help Hawk."

While they ran towards the staircase on the opposite side of the room, Michael had to continuously remind himself that the girls were safe for the time being. They've been evacuated… they're okay. That was, as long as they could keep the enemies above the thirteenth floor. At that point… no, he didn't even want to think about it. They all flew down the stairway as the next fight got closer and closer.

Before Michael knew what happened, he met a violent stop as something slammed into the front of his helmet. He landed on his back, attempting to get up before his aggressor could finish him off to no avail. "Thomas what the fuck?!" Kevin yelled.

"Sorry… I didn't know," he apologized. In the haze, Michael could make out the unmistakable shape of the large Reaper, unarmored and clutching a shotgun like a club. He extended his hand, which Michael readily accepted, although weakly. "If anything… be glad that I ran out…"

"Here," John said, handing him his rifle and the belt of magazines. "We need to get to eleven. They hit the Commander."

"Shit… Oh fuck… Is he okay?"

"We don't know. Haven't heard anything else. But I ain't waiting to find out."

"Alex!" Thomas yelled.

"What?" came a distant response from across the hall.

"Get over here!" Pretty soon, he joined them, carrying an MP5 that he'd managed to snag from an enemy. "Time to go."

The eleventh floor had been far more dangerous than the seventh, and they had to fight just to get out the staircase. The Commander's office wasn't too far away, but with the battle raging on, it would be very difficult to get there. Michael loaded his second-to-last mag into his rifle as they remained out of the enemies' line of sight, bullets impacting the stairs beside them. Thomas reached over them around the doorway and fired randomly, causing whoever was pinning them down to swear and take cover themselves. As they exchanged fire, something came to Michael's mind.

"Thomas, where the hell is Samuel?!" The heavy gunner tossed a used magazine to the side.

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?! He was on our floor wasn't he?!"

"He helped evacuate everyone - haven't seen him since!" John swiftly capped an insurgent that had attempted to come from the side, toppling him right outside the doorway.

"Anyone got any ideas?!" Kevin asked.

"I say we go back up a floor and try the other side!" John said over the gunfire.

"Don't have much of a choice," Thomas said.

"Shit!" one of the enemies outside yelled, "over there!" They started yelling as they began to take fire from another direction, and that gave them a quick opportunity. Michael swiftly peaked around and fired at their exposed backs, felling several men as they were pelted from the front as well with what sounded like a pistol. Samuel was gripping his .380 while holding his stomach. A red stain had grown prominent in his midsection.

"Fuck man, are you okay?!" Kevin asked.

"I… I don't—." He fell to his knees, his hand becoming soaked from the wound. His breath was leaving him in short, rapid bursts. With the coast being clear for the moment, Thomas dropped his rifle and hoisted his comrade over his shoulder.

"I'm getting him to a medic! You guys get to the Commander!" He looked at the copilot for a second. "Who's this?"

"Calvin," John replied. "He's with us."

"Come with me. I'm gonna need someone to keep me covered." Calvin nodded and made his way to the Reaper's side.

With the temporary moment of safety they had, they split up, with Thomas and Calvin going downstairs and the others gaining ground towards Wesley's office. Several men in uniform were crouched behind the crumbling walls of his office, protecting the Commander and retaliating against the enemies. They'd only have so long before the concentrated machine gun fire turned the rest of the wall into dust.

"They don't have much longer in there!" Kevin shouted over the constant bursts of bullets. "Michael, you flank 'em from behind! We'll take them when they're distracted!" Michael handed his rifle to John, who would have much more use for it given the circumstances. Grasping his pistol with both hands, Michael kept close to the flaming remnants of offices as he hurriedly made his way towards the aggressors. As he neared the corner to the main hallway, he heard footsteps approaching. He readied himself. They were clad in all black rather than digital camouflage; not theirs.

Michael kicked the first enemy in the shin before he knew what was happening, causing the guy to swear as he fell straight towards the ground. Without turning to face the fallen foe he shoved the 9mm under the helmet of the second enemy and pulled the trigger. He swung around the corner to find no one else there before turning around and capping the first guy. "Hurry the fuck up!" Kevin said. "They're gonna get shredded in there!"

He continued as fast as he could, still being sure to be cautious around the next corner - the main walkway in the middle of this floor. Across from him there was a wounded soldier keeping watch over his comrades' backs as he rested against the wall. While the other three were exchanging shots with the enemy, he raised his rifle and began to fire at an unseen threat from within a nearby debriefing room. A live grenade was tossed out and rolled near the four of them. Without hesitation, he jumped onto it to shield his oblivious friends.

Michael pushed the horrifying image aside; he had a job to do. He could hear the steady roar of the machine gun from around the corner, and, knowing that they weren't focused on him, he quickly aimed around and started firing at their heads. The gunner was the first to be targeted, and he fell forward without knowing what had hit him as the other enemies frantically reacted. Two more and he had to duck behind cover to avoid the deadly stream of bullets intended for him.

"Alright, killed the gunner and pissed them the fuck off. Now what?"

"We've got 'em." Both he and Kevin rushed from the other side and mowed the last few down. Michael holstered his pistol, having his eyes set on another weapon - the M60 they had just been using. He picked the LMG up and grabbed two drums - all he could carry.

"Let's get them outta here while we got the time," Alex said, motioning to the Commander's office. They dreadfully anticipated what they would see as they drew close to the doorway. Army personnel lowered their weapons as the special forces members walked in; as they took a good look at Commander Hawkins' body.

A medic had used what he could to bandage a hole in Wesley's head the best he could. A hole right where his right eye had been. The ground was soaked crimson, and the very life was absent from their leader.

"No!" John shouted as he tossed the Tavor aside and rushed to the Commander. "Those fucking cocksuckers!" Alex clutched his mouth as he visibly fought the urge to hurl, whether or not from sorrow or sickness Michael wasn't sure. All he could do is stare in disbelief as the medic shook his head.

"He's… it's not looking good."

"You son of a bitch!" Kevin yelled, pacing towards the doctor with violent intent. "How could you let him die?!" Michael grabbed him by the shoulders, halting him in his tracks. "You fucking let him die!"

"I've done th-the best that I can," he stammered. "He's still here - barely. I can't do anything more for him. We need to get him to TMA specialist. That's the only way he'll have a chance…"

Michael handed Alex his weapon as he knelt down and lifted Wesley over his shoulder, closing his eyes to keep from looking at the gaping hole in the Commander's head.

"We don't have a second to waste," John said. "We're going to thirteen. They should have more medical personnel there. You guys coming?" The apparent leader of the soldiers shook his head.

"No, we're not going anywhere. You guys get him to safety. We're going to send each and every one of these bastards to hell."

"Take this then," Alex said, setting the LMG onto the table with a loud thump.

"That should do nicely." He picked the weapon up and nodded to his men. "Alright everyone, we're moving out."

The two groups went their separate ways, with the medic tagging along with the four Reapers. Kevin and John kept in front of the others, scanning over everything in their sight to provide safe passage for Michael and the medic, while Alex covered their backs. In the midst of the battlefield they rushed back to the stairs; the number of living enemies was decreasing all the while. A more heavily armored unit descended just as they entered, each sporting black AK-47s and heavy ceramic armor. They said nothing as they hurried by, and it wasn't but a few seconds until they were engaged in their own firefight.

Going down, they passed by dozens of armed guards, ready to shoot at anyone not in a uniform. They were given passage to the thirteenth floor, where the nearest soldier knocked on the door. It was opened, revealing even more armored personnel behind sandbags, each aiming their weapons towards the entrance. Good luck getting into here.

"Where are the medics?" John asked.

"Throughout the twenties," one responded.

"Oh shit…" another said upon noticing who Michael was carrying. "Get him there quick!" By now, Michael's suit had a thick stream from his back down. It would be a miracle if he wasn't dead.

They quickly navigated the floor, finding the series of rooms they were looking for. Cots were lined up in each of them. Nearly all of them were occupied. Medics rushed around from patient to patient, stitching people up and giving out shots of morphine. The fourth room is where they found the one person of interest - Grace. The gardevoir had just finished healing an individual who had been shot in the arm, severing an artery.

"Grace!" Michael said. "We need some help here!" She turned around in annoyance for interrupting her work, but went wide-eyed once she saw the situation.

"Set him down right there!" she said, pointing to one of the few unoccupied cots. She pressed her hand to Wesley's face, healing him the best she could at the moment. Though it didn't do much, the bleeding slowed to a gradual trickle. Her eyes lit up; an IV with a blood bag floated towards them, and she immediately stuck the needle into his arm. "His pulse is still here, but it's weak. I can't do much more without Sebastian."

"Thank you Grace," John said. "Alright, we're heading back up. Let's give 'em hell."

As much as they needed to finish off the remaining enemies, Michael couldn't bring himself to follow them. Not without finding out first. He looked through room after room - non-combatants everywhere. Just as they approached the nearest stairway, he saw the wounded Reaper laying against the wall. He was shirtless, bandaged up across the midsection, clasping his ninetales throughout it all.

"Samuel!" The others stopped in their tracks and rushed to the door. Nicole looked over at them and forced a smile.

"Michael!" a familiar voice said. Charlotte and Elise both rushed up to him and embraced him, with Layla following close behind.

"Girls… are you okay?"

"Yeah," Elise sniffled. "There were all these loud sounds… all those guys started coming in and… they started shooting at everyone…" He looked over the three of them, and suddenly, he was struck with fear.

"Oh Arceus… where are Ver and Alaina?!" Layla looked down and shook her head.

"They… they stayed upstairs t-to fight…"

"What?!"

"Th-they told us to leave with the others," Layla replied.

"What floor?!"

"Nine… last time we saw them…" Without another word, he sprinted out of the room towards the stairs, snatching up an M4 laying against the barricade. His adrenaline overrode his exhaustion; his unstoppable urge to get to those two before something could happen. He could already be too late. Shut up! he told himself through teary eyes. The others were trailing behind him, backing him in his moment of terror. As they passed the eleventh floor, the former racket had dissipated into a few final gunshots here and there. The mountain had stopped quaking; all fell still. The only sound registering to his ears were those of the hasty footsteps as they made their way to the ninth floor.

Michael rammed the door open as he quickly scanned the living quarters. The rooms, much like those throughout the rest of the base, had been leveled. Small flames here and there and the sight of corpses from both sides. Most of the enemies had been sliced open.

The others had caught up and looked at the devastation of what had previously been their living quarters. Spent shells of 40mm grenades littered the floor, the clear culprits of much of the destruction. Some of the bodies were those of soldiers they had briefly seen throughout their time on base, others of pokémon that similarly resided there.

Every second Michael dreaded; each and every one could bring him closer to the very thing that could tear his heart in two. They drew near the Reaper quarters, and from around the corner, Michael could hear sobbing - that of his flygon. He slowly walked around and was presented with the image.

Ver was slouched against the wall, hugging Alaina for dear life. The latias gazed back at him with a sad, almost empty look as she tried to comfort Ver. The flygon was covered in blood and surrounded by fallen enemies. Michael ran to her side and knelt down, unable to restrain the tears any longer. "Ver…" he whimpered.

"I… I killed them," she said. "It was so easy… and yet…" Her words trailed off into incoherency as he held the two of them close to him, relieved upon knowing that the blood did not belong to her. She was struggling to come to terms with what she had done, and they would be there to help her through this. But despite the situation, Michael couldn't deny the fact that the greatest sense of joy had washed over him. They were safe - all of them.

"It'll all be okay," Alaina whispered. "We're all here for you." She nodded appreciatively as she slowly got to her feet. Michael slipped his arm around her for support as they all stepped over the bodies of the enemy.

The fighting had stopped across the base; the final insurgents had been eliminated. This was anything but a victory though. The Commander would hopefully pull through, but his unease about the situation was only magnified by the uncertainty. The base had been utterly destroyed in what would be known as the most significant attack on Johtonian soil within the last century. It would take years to rebuild it all, and time was not a luxury they had. Not when Douglas possessed weapons like that. The aircraft, the bombs… all of it served to raise dozens of questions. They had underestimated their enemies capabilities, their numbers - everything about them. And now they had paid for it.

A sickening, coughing sound could be heard from within a room as they came closer to the stairs. One insurgent among several was spewing blood from his mouth as he held his hand over his torn abdomen. The wound had originated from claws and had cut deep enough to tear through most of his viscera. He didn't have long. Nevertheless, he reached for a fallen pistol on the ground. Michael closed the distance between the two of them and stepped on his hand. He looked up at the Reaper and the rifle pointed at him.

"Go on… do me the favor," he sputtered. Michael placed his finger on the trigger. "My only regret… is that we didn't finish the job. Not y-yet." With what little bit of life he had in him, he managed to painfully laugh. "You stupid f-fucks are fighting… the wrong people." Michael silenced him as Ver closed her eyes; dead with the rest of his comrades.

He glanced over the bodies - all sliced open, staining the carpet a deep red. The body of a lone enemy had a set of dog tags around his neck; something that served to unnerve him. Military… they all were… By his right side was a Mossberg 590 - scraped along the barrel, trace amounts of blood shooting up from the opening. By the looks of it, he'd stuck it against someone and delivered a point-blank shot. Alaina gasped and gripped his hand, before breaking out into sobs.

"Arceus," she moaned, crying into his shoulder. "Oh Arceus…" He turned to console her, inadvertently facing the gut-wrenching sight. He pictured the scenario in his mind as he cried; no way to fight off all those enemies, yet trying all the same - cornered, but still trying to put up a fight till the very end. All the memories yet to be made - all ended by a 12 gauge. He was sprawled out on the floor, his chest remaining still. The two dragons looked away, praying that somehow this was all nothing more than a nightmare, all while Michael was unable to peel his gaze away from the body of his friend. The body of a zoroark.


A/N:

Sorry I had to do that. I look forward to hearing what all of you have to say about this. However, I do ask that anyone that posts a review please abstain from posting spoilers. Please let the other readers find this out for themselves.