We here at 17Hyn pride ourselves on reader satisfaction, and with reviews like, "'Humour' holy shit die", "I don't know if I should be proud or offended." and "O...K?" I believe that we've fully achieved that goal.

Anyways what the fuck is planning.

Gadwin woke up in the middle of a gunfight.

It burned.

He could scarcely feel his own body. He was a puppeteer controlling his marionette, looking in from the outside, jerking around his limbs without really knowing where they were. His head pounded, sounds assaulted his ears like thousands of little knives, stabbing into him all at once. Gently, he closed his eyes, mentally submerging himself deep into the sea, and then he couldn't make anything out above the thumping of his own heart, everything else distant and muffled, like there were oceans between them.

It was a lot nicer than whatever was going on outside.

Gadwin gasped as he was pulled out of the flaming wreck of the APC. He sputtered for breath as he skidded on broken pavement, struggling to pull himself out of his self imposed reverie.

He felt something hit his chest. It was the Hi-Point Carbine. Jones stood above him, his eyes covered by the tall and broad sunglasses with as many colours as a kaleidoscope. His previously white lab coat was tattered, its fringes burnt black and stained red with blood.

Wait, when did he start wearing a labcoat?

"On your feet, Time Warrior. We are leaving!" Jones snatched his hand which fumbled with the grip of his Carbine, and pulled him up like he was little more than a feather. Jones' face suddenly broke into a smile, even as one of the women behind him who'd shown up with the APCs stumbled back as a burst of bullets caught her in the torso. "Man, I always wanted to say that."

"W-what's happening?" he instinctively ducked down behind the burnt out APC as bullets snapped over their heads. They were in a closed little street, flanked on both sides by long walls of glass storefronts and building walls. The APCs were askew, no longer in a nice, neat column, but swerved off in alternating directions. Herringbone. The words meant nothing to Gadwin, but it popped up in his head regardless.

GnK girls and Time Warriors alike fired into the storefronts, although Gadwin wasn't quite sure at what.

Jones didn't flinch, "Close ambush. The lead and rear vehicles got hit by Lesser Ron Jeremy variants. We dismounted and established a perimeter. The GnK girls are complaining about not being able to access the Zener network for some reason though, whatever that is."

Another girl dashed out from an APC. Bullets kicked up chunks of pavement by her feet, and she got jerked around as rounds impacted her, but she made it to the opposite side of the street, even poking back out from cover to fire. Gadwin cocked his head. No way that girl could have survived, she'd been directly hit.

"Hey, Mojo!" Jones waved to a Time Warrior standing on top of an APC, firing an unrelenting stream of bullets towards… somewhere. He wasn't really sure. "Get over here!"

The Time warrior—a short and stout asian man holding a M16 (he wasn't sure how he knew what it was) with an underbarrel M203 (he wasn't sure how he knew that either)—hopped down, the magazine falling out of his gun before he casually jogged over. The tracer of a bullet whizzed past his face.

"Oh, hey, Doc," Mojo began without prompting. "You got a mag? I'm all out."

"Only for my Hi-Point," Jones cautiously eyed the man. "But that's no-"

Mojo reached out, pulling the long, stick-like magazine out from Jones' chestrig, shoving it into the far, far too large oversized magwell of the M16. Intuitively, Gadwin knew that a 9mm was not the same as a 5.56mm, and it couldn't-shouldn't feed, that it shouldn't have even fit in the magwell.

Mojo spun around, pointed his rifle at the glass front of a nearby coffee shop, and fired ten times, dropping the white armoured enemy who'd been in the middle of levelling its gun at them.

"Alright, so what did you want?"

"First, stop showing off to Gadwin, second, organize the boys. We're taking that coffee shop. I can smell him."

"Wait, really?"

"Brandon confirmed it. Admin's getting into a blocking position."

"Okay, I'm just here for the violence," Mojo said nothing more, running back to the next APC in the column, which sagged because of a destroyed tire.

Jones took an appraising look at the tire, "Man, I'll have to take care of that later. Anyways, Gadwin, take this and follow me."

"Alright er… Doc?"

"In New Jersey," Jones corrected, placing a Hi-Point Carbine in his hands. "I quit Med School."

Gadwin took the offered Hi-Point Carbine, not exactly knowing what he was doing, but he followed Jones around anyways, ducking between wrecked and stopped APCs, if only because his head was still spinning and he really didn't know where else to go in the crossfire of bullets. Jones went around, tapping Time Warriors on the shoulder, shouting and pointing towards the restaurant front. The Time Warriors would nod, and continue firing the next moment.

"Hey!" one of the girls from the fast food restaurant turned to them as they ducked behind her APC. The one with the yellow highlight. M4A1, he remembered. "What are you doing?"

Jones ignored her, instead turning to Mojo who… Gadwin wondered just when exactly he'd appeared behind them, "Mojo, on three-"

"Eat shit and die Ron Jeremy!" Mojo roared. A roar was returned down the line, and dozens of Time Warriors suddenly stepped out from their cover, marching towards the storefront, some firing from the hip, some shouldering their weapons, all relentlessly pouring down fire on the restaurant front, where a… Gadwin wasn't sure why he was only noticing the huge, towering mech until now. There was a series of thunks, and long smoke trails arced from the mech towards the Time Warriors. They exploded harmlessly mid flight, and the Time Warriors continued their approach.

"...or that," Jones said, wiping some blood from his Pit Vipers. He shrugged. "Fuck it. Eat shit and die Ron Jeremy!"

Jones ran, so Gadwin ran. M4A1 shouted something behind him. He could hear his heart beat, his legs wanted to seize up, they wanted to take him away from all these crazy people and back into the fast food restaurant. He wanted to pretend that none of what was happening was… happening.

Maybe it was the flicker of recognition that flashed through his head whenever he glanced at Jones, or the shudder he felt whenever he took hold of a Hi-Point Carbine. Gadwin didn't know, he just ran.

His legs propelled him forward. He felt the same feeling he did when he first held the Hi-Point. The sense of assurance, the singly electrifying feeling that pulsed through him. He ran past the line of Time Warriors, letting himself give in fully to the other self that reared its head every time he touched the Carbine.

The primal screech that came out of him scared him. Jumping right through the window scared him. Coming face to face with the long haired, white armoured man that looked up at him with an intense hate, scared him.

It was easy to pull the trigger.

There was a surge of adrenaline and excitement as he continued running through the shop. He barged through a door. He fired a long burst into one of the White Suited men, he too with long hair and deep jowls. His face turned into a bloody pulp. Gadwin spun around, putting another one of the white suited men in his sights. He'd caught him with his gun down, and they both locked eyes. Then his gun clicked.

All his feelings washed away, and then he was terrified.

He was deafened by a rip of automatic fire right by his ear. The white suited man fell to the ground, and Mojo, who'd been behind him, moved up, a stack of other Time Warriors following. The man who saved his life didn't say anything else, moving forward to take the rest of the Burger Tow- coffee shop.

Jones patted his shoulder as he passed, motioning for him to follow. He did.

He didn't fire his weapon again during the assault, and he doubted he could've, with his arms and legs shaking like they did.

A Time Warrior ran up to Jones. He was dressed head to toe in Rhodesian Brushstroke (Really, Gadwin had no idea how he was recognizing everything), and held a pistol—a Browning Hi-Power—in his hand, "All Ron Jeremies eliminated, sir!"

"Did you find him?"

Brushstroke shook his head, "No sir. We went through the bodies. Only lesser variants. One greater variant, but Gadwin got him. Good job on that, kid."

"Must've gotten away in the chaos," Jones pulled a radio out from his pocket. It had a folded antenna that flopped stiffly as he brought it to his mouth. "Admin, this is Jones, you catch any squirters?"

The voice came back crackly, but still recognizably Admin, "Negative. None of the uh… big chimps on my end see anything."

"Damn," Jones looked around the cafe. It was completely and utterly destroyed. "Alright, collapse back to the GnK girls. We'll see what they're up to."

Gadwin looked back down the bloody mess that was the face of a… Greater Ron Jeremy variant. He'd done it. He remembered the shudder, the excitement, the rush. It made him want to retch. This wasn't him, he wasn't a killer.

A few Time Warriors patted him on his shoulder as they passed. Mojo flashed him a thumbs up. They all congratulated him on the kill. Not bad for a mind wiped Time Warrior.

-he gutted a Ron Jeremy with his bayonet. He was a whirlwind, dancing between each of the bastards. He could barely feel himself, letting himself fall to the hatred and rage that rushed in him like a torrent-

He numbly followed Jones out of the shop. The Time Warriors posted themselves on street corners or building fronts. The GnK girls kept mostly to their smoking column of APCs, watching the Time Warriors closely, fingers close to their triggers.

"Hey!" Jones called out as he approached. M4A1 turned to look at him, eyes flicking between the Time Warrior and… him. "M4! So uh, we've committed extraordinary violence against the Ron Jeremies. They're gone now. How are you guys?"

"Only a few dummies destroyed, but we're mostly fine. Thanks for the help-"

Jones glanced towards the flat tire, "Aw shit, this can't do. You got wreckers coming?"

"...yes?"

"Hey, Gadwin," he perked up at the mention of his name. "I've got a lesson to teach you. It isn't being deadly in the woods, that's for a later lesson, but-"

Jones knelt down next to the tire, animatedly gesturing as he spoke, "I had an old buddy. Name was Hsu. He retired a while back. Had his mind wiped and everything just like you. I think he's playing with his Toy Soldiers in an offshoot of this world. Anyways, the point is, he used to always say that if your vehicle was disabled, it was never worth sending out a wrecker team to recover the vehicle. Better to deny the enemy the asset, of course."

"Never?"

"Never," Jones said with absolute certainty, producing several bricks of C4 out of his lab coat. "Now, let's make Mojo over there happy and blow something up."

M4A1 furrowed her brows. Looked to Jones, then the bricks of C4, then to Gadwin, who was standing there, also in relative confusion. Then it clearly clicked what was going to happen in the back of her Digimind because she lunged forward, yelling, "No!"

It was already too late, because Jones was already sprinting away, dragging Gadwin with him. Gadwin wasn't quite sure what was happening. M4A1 looked once at the bundle of C4 tossed inside the APC, and turned heel, sprinting away.

Then the APC went up in a fireball and a cloud of dust.

Jones stopped next to Mojo, dropping Gadwin on his ass next to them, "Aw man, that was a nice fireball. I see why Hsu always randomly detted our vehicles."

"Yeah," Mojo agreed. "Can you let me do it next time?"

"Sure, yeah, if those girls don't shoot us first."

When the APC went up, simultaneously, every single GnK Girl raised their weapons towards the first Time Warrior in sight.

Gadwin scrambled to drop the Hi-Point Carbine to the ground, raising his hands far above his head as the pink haired girl—ST AR-15—jammed her rifle right in his face.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed. Her words were like acid verbalized.

Something urged him to bat the rifle barrel aside. It'd be easy. He suppressed the urge, mortified at the thought, "T-that wasn't my idea!"

"It was mine," Jones nodded, seemingly completely okay with being held at gunpoint by a short women with twin buns and sunglasses, holding a… P90 (Again, how he knew these guns? No idea).

"Oh, nice gun," Admin said to the P90 wielding girl, having been there that entire time. "Task Force 420 got issued those recently. Bleeding edge of Time Guild weaponry. These fuckers at Task Force 69 got issued it first, but we got it eventually. Ours are tailored specifically for the Desert Flat Range. We had to toast them until they were golden-brown in a Belgian Waffle maker. Of course, we have to make sure it never falls into Ron Jeremy's hands, despite the restraining order, so all of us have to have access to a Time Guild sanctioned Stargate Operator at all times for quick extraction. Ours for this mission is Brandon Herrera. Nice guy, by the way, you should ask him about where the AK-50 is though, Though if all else fails, we always have a suitcase nuke. Every single one of us." he lifted the suitcase he had in his hand to emphasize the point.

P90 Girl cocked her head.

"Huuuuuuuhhhhhh?"

"Stop distracting us!" ST AR-15 pointed her rifle at the three Time Warriors, ignoring him completely. "Give me one reason I shouldn't shoot you right now!"

"I'd shoot you first."

"Yeah well, I'm a Marine and your hair looks kinda like a crayon."

"I want to clone your gun?"

"Flat… chest?" Gadwin had no idea why he said that. At all. It felt like he was being compelled by the author to perform a minor act of shitty comedy… wow, he really needed to stop thinking about things.

ST AR-15 flushed, her face turning beet red as she crossed her arms awkwardly as if it'd cover her… Gadwin cocked his head. Had he noticed that without noticing it? Huh. Weird.

M4A1 came up, eyes narrowed as she looked at all of the gathered Time Warriors, "I don't know who you are, what you're here for, but the only reason I'm not shooting you right now is because you helped us against Paradeus."

"Ron Jeremy," Jone corrected.

"Whatever the case," she said as another column of APCs rolled in the street behind her. "You are coming with us. Without your guns."

Mojo and Admin glanced towards Jones, who shrugged. Then they all ripped a hole in space and time and threw their weapons into them.

"I..." M4A1 was clearly thrown off balance. "APCs. Now."

"Alright."

Then all the Time Warriors shrugged, and climbed aboard the APCs, guarded by extraordinarily jumpy GnK Personnel.

"And you..." M4A1 said quietly, looking towards Gadwin. "Just who are you?"

"I… don't know?" it felt like he was someone he was not. His actions were automatic, his reactions faster than he could think. Someone had taken all of his life experiences, memories, and thrown them in a blender with someone else's.

M4A1 fell silent, glancing behind her at the Time Warriors, and then towards him, "The Commander wants to talk to you. You and all the other… Time Warriors," she said the name with an edge of confusion. "You'll be riding with me."

ST AR-15 pulled him to his feet without prompting. M4A1 started walking towards the APCs, and the pink haired girl waited for him to follow.

It was like his heart seized, with tendrils of doubts wrapping themselves around his every limb. He wanted off this terrifying, rocking ship before it'd sink with him on it. He wanted to run, run until his legs carried him to his family's home and to never leave its embrace. His rational mind told him that he was crazy, that he had no place to be here, and that he could throw a punch and make a break for it before anyone could raise a gun at him. The thought frightened him because he knew he could do that. Punch a girl with a gun and get away without being shot. It was an instinctual feeling, that.

But just like when he ran towards the coffee shop, he followed M4.

Little did you know this was all a highly advanced Matterhorn reference.

If this chapter gets 9 reviews, bringing the total review count to 15, I'll turn this into a bi weekly shitpost. 9 is the target because god knows there's absolutely zero chance that'll happen.