An apocalypse, whether biblical or random, would incur a major change in the history of the world. History, only if people survived an apocalypse. For who is to write history if there was no one there to survive? But why contemplate this? Because it could be contemplated. Because the council of twelve people have contemplated this from the start. SEELE was a part of the U.N bureacracy, hidden for a while until media started leaking SEELE's involvement with political and economic deals in different countries. Some suspected a conspiracy for global domination, others suspected they would undermine some of the world governments. Whichever the case, SEELE was there, to protect or to control, they were there and that was all.
The Tamil Tigers were brought into the fray. Taken from Sri Lanka amidst bitter strife with their government, the rebels were recruited because of their ferocity in battle and method of success in the field of terrorism. These were the types of people Lucifer recruited under the noses of his elite, suicide-bombers, snipers, and demolitionists who know no sympathy or regret. These kind of wolves in sheep's clothing, are the ones Lucifer deployed secretly not far from the secret science facility in Beijing. The map he recieved was labeled Shanghai to dissuade any who did not know their history.
Specifically code-named, Devil, for his beet-red skin color and black tattoos all over his arms and chest, the teenage leader of the Tamil Tigers gathered a large portion of the Tigers imported here, scoping the scantily populated area of the industrial district this late afternoon. In his single left cybernetic eye, he eyed the tower whose sides boxed in a slope up to the center, almost to the sky. At least that is how it was represented to him, having never seen such objects in such an obscure design.
The sounds of fighting and setting-off of explosives rattled here and there, surrounding Devil with the pure sense of the Hunt. Yes, that is what they called their objectives. Like tigers through the jungle, they hunted in this urban stretch for the very thing they were required to accomplish. But why did they fight for this man? Why did they fight for Lucifer? Because he promised power and wealth to his men. Personally, Devil did this for the Hunt itself. For each one that feel to his Tigers, Devil felt evermore closer to that peace of mind, that somehow the deaths of many would equal the lives taken by the Sri Lankan government. Devil defied his own commanders in coming here, brought a bunch of the elite into this suicide mission against the United Nations. But overall, this was for the people.
"Eelam!," he called out to his front-runners in battle.
"Eelam!," he called out, the word for Tiger that had usually sparked the nationalist ferocity in the soldiers.
Their forces had bypassed nearly a thousand Chinese Communist military, killed thousands more of them with demolition material. And with only a couple hundred armed children nearing their teenage years as soldiers, they were doing better against armed veterans than he thought possible. Ah, the thrill exhilarated Devil to the fullest.
It would be a hundred more yards before they reached the gates of the facility.
----
.
Asmodeus walked into her master's black marbled office in professional blue attire, low-cut blue skirt, a blouse left open to show the cleavage of her C-cup breasts, her blonde hair up in a bun which was held in place by two blue chopsticks. She looked a bit disappointed toward the black leather executive seat whose back was turned to her, as though she expected much more than just that plain backside of a seat.
"What is it?," that deep masculine voice sent a shiver up her spine, but she did well to hide the welling excitement in her.
She approached the wide glass table, barely cluttered with any papers. There was a glass LCD monitor to her right, facing the chair of the executive of the Van Baal Corporation, it pulsed a blue light at the chair, shading it with its color. This meant there was a message waiting for him, but he was ignoring it. It was most likely her request for a meeting with him that was waiting on his computer.
"How could you stand me up last night?," her voice calm and soothing, yet hurt.
"I was preoccupied," he replied from behind the seat, "I'll make it up to you."
She set her hands upon the glass table, leaning forward to a point where any man could see her breasts better if he was just facing her. "You don't love me do you?," her voice growing stronger and more annoyed in tone.
The executive chair turned, presenting Asmodeus with the contemplating, hair slicked-back, well dressed, young executive of the corporation. Lucifer. He gave her an inquiring look from his downcast gaze, that look which showed a young man holding back the power he had subtly kept hidden. Asmodeus's history with Lucifer was one of a short romance, told by the very hardened gaze of the man. Lucifer was the top of his class in Yale, Asmodeus was only second behind him, they were both lovers ever since they started there. She was assured by Lucifer's hubris in his success, that she was free to sneak a few men under the sheets. But Lucifer caught on quickly, using the friends that were her friends to notify him of what was occurring. He never confronted Asmodeus about it, which worried her after their graduation. It was the coldness deep in his eyes that set that reminder of her sin --her lust. She had torn them into a cold relationship, and she knew very well the consequences if she pressed something that was not there.
"Of course I love you," he put simply.
"Then why don't you show it?," she stammered.
Lucifer lifted his head, looking at her steadily without any clear expression of his thoughts on his face. "A night in bed is all you want. That isn't love, but you are too stubborn to realize that--"
"Fuck you!," she yelled at him, pushing herself away from the table and stepping back, "I've spent weeks trying to be clean with you, the least you could do is give me a hug or a fuckin' kiss, for god sakes, Tim!"
"You want a hug?," he asked sardonically. Propping his elbows onto the table, he knitted his fingers together and leaned forward. "Why don't you hug some of those other men you've been with?"
"I've been with no other men," she whipped one hand aside in emphasis, ignoring the fact that he was persecuting her for the truth.
"At least not anymore," reaching under the table, he pressed one of the few triggers that he equipped for special tasks in the room. One, was the delivery chute that came through the side.
The marble wall to the far side slid open smoothly, presenting a black tube that connected down behind the wall to another level below. A strong gush of air pushed through the tube and it was not long before three ball-sized object shot out and rolled across the ground --they were all human heads.
"You...," Asmodeus's shocked face pleased Lucifer immensely. Her eyes filling with the tears he yearned for her to have, the pain in them that swelled the pride in his work.
"And don't call me Tim anymore," a smile crept onto Lucifer's features, "That ignorant boy is no more."
"Why did you have to do that to them?," Asmodeus yelled at him in frustration, the tears streaming down her cheek.
"Before you enter the Oracle of Delphi, there is an inscription that says, 'Know thy self'," Lucifer said to her, "And it would seem like you should take that bit of medicine."
"You could've talked to me instead, you bastard! They didn't deserve to die!"
"Mammon, Belphegor, and Leviathan, can always be replaced. I was tired of knowing they were sleeping with you, even during college," just thinking about what he said almost made him laugh, the very fact that Asmodeus would need to resort to some men of lower standards and intelligence to get her 'kicks'. He had become a cold person, a cold killer if one would rather prefer it, but he blamed it on Asmodeus for driving him to this. Why he could have ever trusted her or his friends. It just goes to show that you could not trust anyone easily in this world.
Before Asmodeus could respond, he tore his hands free from their formation and whipped his arms out to the side. Just as he did that, the air seemed to contort, a growing anomaly birthed by his motions which grew into a blob-like yellow glow. This anomaly grew big and fast, then narrowed into a stream of channeled force that impacted Asmodeus's entire being, sending her flying back. She landed only a scant few feet from the double-doors, meters away from Lucifer's desk.
"Pathetic," he reclined in his seat.
Turning to his computer screen, he pressed a key on the keyboard. "Sariel, what's the progress on securing the objective?"
----
.
"Boss," Sariel returned to her headset's reciever, "The objective seems to have gone unstable after we disengaged the first pressure-lock on the tube."
"You have five to go through, so do it."
"Yes, well Sealiah is doing just that. The problem we see is that there's nothing we can contain this thing--"
The darkness surrounding them was all. Minus the lights illuminating the central containment tube, holding some thrashing large humanoid within its cloudy blue contents, there was only the metal bridge that stretched from the main floor, over the black waters below, to the tube's base.
"Release and retreat if you cannot handle it. My operatives outside will handle the rest," Lucifer directed with all seriousness, "I will be sending the operatives in the U.N. Taskforce to pick you up."
Sealiah applied her knowledge of digital locks upon the second lock, rewiring and at the same time, punching in different sets of keycodes in hopes to crack the lock faster if the hot-wiring did not work. She learned these skills outside of her standard military training, just as Sariel learned combat outside of her military training. Often wondering how the other team fared, it did her no help to continue being distracted in her work. The cold in the chamber seemed to have gotten to her, noticing the shaking in her left hand, so susceptible to temperatures.
Sariel turned the comm-unit off, "Sealiah, you have to hurry. Lucifer isn't giving us much time..."
"Yeah, yeah," she responded in an annoyed fashion, waving Sariel off.
----
.
Reyna hit her silver Compact Disc Player to her left palm, "Damn protection slips!" Once again, her Japanese Pop Mix CD had failed her.
Having talked with a few comrades, Kyosato walked toward Reyna after hearing her curse. "Anything I can do to help?"
"No thanks," Reyna just threw her hand to Kyosato's direction, "Rip and Rag Industry of America... I swear!"
"What do you mean Rip and Rag?"
She looked away from her Disc Player and to Kyosato, "Its the nickname I've given to the Recording Industry. You know they have accelerated their copy-protection on songs. In a couple years, they will probably encompass all songs with their protection crap!"
Kyosato smiled as he folder his arms over his chest, "I don't doubt that. I mean, considering the increase of Person-2-Person programs online, it'll make a whole number of music groups into no income at all. Woe to the one-hit wonders!"
"Yeah, their fault for being in the industry if they only make 'one-hit wonders'."
"You can't blame them. Only the public knows which is a hit or not. Think about--"
Sounds of gunfire could be heard, although muffled by the closed doors of the chamber. It was definitely just outside.
The abrupt interruption shocked Reyna, loosening her muscles and dropping her CD-Player to the ground. Luckily, it did not shatter. Some part of her wanted to cry out for safety, that part of her that felt the need to be secure. She often wondered where she could find that in her life. She turned to Kyosato for an answer.
He grabbed her by the wrist, "C'mon," and they both ran with the others up to the stage to get some distance from the doorway. The metal walls that boxed the chamber in seemed to tremble with the crossfire outside, men and women fighting the assailants of the facility.
Reyna considered it, fighting the unknown.
Elana pushed through a group of scientists, "Kyo!"
Releasing Reyna, he turned to meet Elana, "What's wrong?"
"Where's Ken? He's not here."
"Oh shit," Kyosato looked to the doorway, "Whether he's dead or alive, we have to get to him."
"Nah shit, sherlocke!"
An explosion splintered the metal doors open, body parts of their Security Personnel flying in with the metal shrapnel that had injured a few scientists who were daring enough to remain in the door's vicinity. Plumes of black smoke escaped into the chamber, following the clouds of debris. Two laser-points entered the room and travelled about in a near-random fashion, eventually lining its sights on the group of scientists on the stage.
"Something tells me they aren't here to rescue us," one of the scientists murmured to another.
The Tamil Tigers were brought into the fray. Taken from Sri Lanka amidst bitter strife with their government, the rebels were recruited because of their ferocity in battle and method of success in the field of terrorism. These were the types of people Lucifer recruited under the noses of his elite, suicide-bombers, snipers, and demolitionists who know no sympathy or regret. These kind of wolves in sheep's clothing, are the ones Lucifer deployed secretly not far from the secret science facility in Beijing. The map he recieved was labeled Shanghai to dissuade any who did not know their history.
Specifically code-named, Devil, for his beet-red skin color and black tattoos all over his arms and chest, the teenage leader of the Tamil Tigers gathered a large portion of the Tigers imported here, scoping the scantily populated area of the industrial district this late afternoon. In his single left cybernetic eye, he eyed the tower whose sides boxed in a slope up to the center, almost to the sky. At least that is how it was represented to him, having never seen such objects in such an obscure design.
The sounds of fighting and setting-off of explosives rattled here and there, surrounding Devil with the pure sense of the Hunt. Yes, that is what they called their objectives. Like tigers through the jungle, they hunted in this urban stretch for the very thing they were required to accomplish. But why did they fight for this man? Why did they fight for Lucifer? Because he promised power and wealth to his men. Personally, Devil did this for the Hunt itself. For each one that feel to his Tigers, Devil felt evermore closer to that peace of mind, that somehow the deaths of many would equal the lives taken by the Sri Lankan government. Devil defied his own commanders in coming here, brought a bunch of the elite into this suicide mission against the United Nations. But overall, this was for the people.
"Eelam!," he called out to his front-runners in battle.
"Eelam!," he called out, the word for Tiger that had usually sparked the nationalist ferocity in the soldiers.
Their forces had bypassed nearly a thousand Chinese Communist military, killed thousands more of them with demolition material. And with only a couple hundred armed children nearing their teenage years as soldiers, they were doing better against armed veterans than he thought possible. Ah, the thrill exhilarated Devil to the fullest.
It would be a hundred more yards before they reached the gates of the facility.
----
.
Asmodeus walked into her master's black marbled office in professional blue attire, low-cut blue skirt, a blouse left open to show the cleavage of her C-cup breasts, her blonde hair up in a bun which was held in place by two blue chopsticks. She looked a bit disappointed toward the black leather executive seat whose back was turned to her, as though she expected much more than just that plain backside of a seat.
"What is it?," that deep masculine voice sent a shiver up her spine, but she did well to hide the welling excitement in her.
She approached the wide glass table, barely cluttered with any papers. There was a glass LCD monitor to her right, facing the chair of the executive of the Van Baal Corporation, it pulsed a blue light at the chair, shading it with its color. This meant there was a message waiting for him, but he was ignoring it. It was most likely her request for a meeting with him that was waiting on his computer.
"How could you stand me up last night?," her voice calm and soothing, yet hurt.
"I was preoccupied," he replied from behind the seat, "I'll make it up to you."
She set her hands upon the glass table, leaning forward to a point where any man could see her breasts better if he was just facing her. "You don't love me do you?," her voice growing stronger and more annoyed in tone.
The executive chair turned, presenting Asmodeus with the contemplating, hair slicked-back, well dressed, young executive of the corporation. Lucifer. He gave her an inquiring look from his downcast gaze, that look which showed a young man holding back the power he had subtly kept hidden. Asmodeus's history with Lucifer was one of a short romance, told by the very hardened gaze of the man. Lucifer was the top of his class in Yale, Asmodeus was only second behind him, they were both lovers ever since they started there. She was assured by Lucifer's hubris in his success, that she was free to sneak a few men under the sheets. But Lucifer caught on quickly, using the friends that were her friends to notify him of what was occurring. He never confronted Asmodeus about it, which worried her after their graduation. It was the coldness deep in his eyes that set that reminder of her sin --her lust. She had torn them into a cold relationship, and she knew very well the consequences if she pressed something that was not there.
"Of course I love you," he put simply.
"Then why don't you show it?," she stammered.
Lucifer lifted his head, looking at her steadily without any clear expression of his thoughts on his face. "A night in bed is all you want. That isn't love, but you are too stubborn to realize that--"
"Fuck you!," she yelled at him, pushing herself away from the table and stepping back, "I've spent weeks trying to be clean with you, the least you could do is give me a hug or a fuckin' kiss, for god sakes, Tim!"
"You want a hug?," he asked sardonically. Propping his elbows onto the table, he knitted his fingers together and leaned forward. "Why don't you hug some of those other men you've been with?"
"I've been with no other men," she whipped one hand aside in emphasis, ignoring the fact that he was persecuting her for the truth.
"At least not anymore," reaching under the table, he pressed one of the few triggers that he equipped for special tasks in the room. One, was the delivery chute that came through the side.
The marble wall to the far side slid open smoothly, presenting a black tube that connected down behind the wall to another level below. A strong gush of air pushed through the tube and it was not long before three ball-sized object shot out and rolled across the ground --they were all human heads.
"You...," Asmodeus's shocked face pleased Lucifer immensely. Her eyes filling with the tears he yearned for her to have, the pain in them that swelled the pride in his work.
"And don't call me Tim anymore," a smile crept onto Lucifer's features, "That ignorant boy is no more."
"Why did you have to do that to them?," Asmodeus yelled at him in frustration, the tears streaming down her cheek.
"Before you enter the Oracle of Delphi, there is an inscription that says, 'Know thy self'," Lucifer said to her, "And it would seem like you should take that bit of medicine."
"You could've talked to me instead, you bastard! They didn't deserve to die!"
"Mammon, Belphegor, and Leviathan, can always be replaced. I was tired of knowing they were sleeping with you, even during college," just thinking about what he said almost made him laugh, the very fact that Asmodeus would need to resort to some men of lower standards and intelligence to get her 'kicks'. He had become a cold person, a cold killer if one would rather prefer it, but he blamed it on Asmodeus for driving him to this. Why he could have ever trusted her or his friends. It just goes to show that you could not trust anyone easily in this world.
Before Asmodeus could respond, he tore his hands free from their formation and whipped his arms out to the side. Just as he did that, the air seemed to contort, a growing anomaly birthed by his motions which grew into a blob-like yellow glow. This anomaly grew big and fast, then narrowed into a stream of channeled force that impacted Asmodeus's entire being, sending her flying back. She landed only a scant few feet from the double-doors, meters away from Lucifer's desk.
"Pathetic," he reclined in his seat.
Turning to his computer screen, he pressed a key on the keyboard. "Sariel, what's the progress on securing the objective?"
----
.
"Boss," Sariel returned to her headset's reciever, "The objective seems to have gone unstable after we disengaged the first pressure-lock on the tube."
"You have five to go through, so do it."
"Yes, well Sealiah is doing just that. The problem we see is that there's nothing we can contain this thing--"
The darkness surrounding them was all. Minus the lights illuminating the central containment tube, holding some thrashing large humanoid within its cloudy blue contents, there was only the metal bridge that stretched from the main floor, over the black waters below, to the tube's base.
"Release and retreat if you cannot handle it. My operatives outside will handle the rest," Lucifer directed with all seriousness, "I will be sending the operatives in the U.N. Taskforce to pick you up."
Sealiah applied her knowledge of digital locks upon the second lock, rewiring and at the same time, punching in different sets of keycodes in hopes to crack the lock faster if the hot-wiring did not work. She learned these skills outside of her standard military training, just as Sariel learned combat outside of her military training. Often wondering how the other team fared, it did her no help to continue being distracted in her work. The cold in the chamber seemed to have gotten to her, noticing the shaking in her left hand, so susceptible to temperatures.
Sariel turned the comm-unit off, "Sealiah, you have to hurry. Lucifer isn't giving us much time..."
"Yeah, yeah," she responded in an annoyed fashion, waving Sariel off.
----
.
Reyna hit her silver Compact Disc Player to her left palm, "Damn protection slips!" Once again, her Japanese Pop Mix CD had failed her.
Having talked with a few comrades, Kyosato walked toward Reyna after hearing her curse. "Anything I can do to help?"
"No thanks," Reyna just threw her hand to Kyosato's direction, "Rip and Rag Industry of America... I swear!"
"What do you mean Rip and Rag?"
She looked away from her Disc Player and to Kyosato, "Its the nickname I've given to the Recording Industry. You know they have accelerated their copy-protection on songs. In a couple years, they will probably encompass all songs with their protection crap!"
Kyosato smiled as he folder his arms over his chest, "I don't doubt that. I mean, considering the increase of Person-2-Person programs online, it'll make a whole number of music groups into no income at all. Woe to the one-hit wonders!"
"Yeah, their fault for being in the industry if they only make 'one-hit wonders'."
"You can't blame them. Only the public knows which is a hit or not. Think about--"
Sounds of gunfire could be heard, although muffled by the closed doors of the chamber. It was definitely just outside.
The abrupt interruption shocked Reyna, loosening her muscles and dropping her CD-Player to the ground. Luckily, it did not shatter. Some part of her wanted to cry out for safety, that part of her that felt the need to be secure. She often wondered where she could find that in her life. She turned to Kyosato for an answer.
He grabbed her by the wrist, "C'mon," and they both ran with the others up to the stage to get some distance from the doorway. The metal walls that boxed the chamber in seemed to tremble with the crossfire outside, men and women fighting the assailants of the facility.
Reyna considered it, fighting the unknown.
Elana pushed through a group of scientists, "Kyo!"
Releasing Reyna, he turned to meet Elana, "What's wrong?"
"Where's Ken? He's not here."
"Oh shit," Kyosato looked to the doorway, "Whether he's dead or alive, we have to get to him."
"Nah shit, sherlocke!"
An explosion splintered the metal doors open, body parts of their Security Personnel flying in with the metal shrapnel that had injured a few scientists who were daring enough to remain in the door's vicinity. Plumes of black smoke escaped into the chamber, following the clouds of debris. Two laser-points entered the room and travelled about in a near-random fashion, eventually lining its sights on the group of scientists on the stage.
"Something tells me they aren't here to rescue us," one of the scientists murmured to another.