"Iceland was a mess looking back at it, my plans were childishly simple and had no presentation. Far from my later Supervillain like plots. Disappointing."

Alexander Andreas Gustavus Di Britannia.

…

"How long?" I asked as I sat comfortably in the powered down form of Leonidas on the landing craft. The command version of my testbed Knightmares, the SPARTAN I's. They and their successors would form the core of my personal forces, currently they were nothing more than a heavily upgraded version of the Glasgow frame, just as the Sutherland and Gloucester were. The main difference being that the SPARTAN I's pushed the framework to its absolute limit in output, being clad in heavy armor, wielding larger than normal cannons.

My Leonidas was pushed even further, being equipped with a set of Titanium spears, an expanded Command and Control suite, a cannon mounted on the left shoulder, my personal favorite the speaker system and a whole bunch of other surprises. The main problem with the current SPARTAN's and my Leonidas was the fact that they ran out of battery at an incredible rate, the installation of a second Energy filler meant that they could function throughout a battle fairly well but stressed the frame even further.

"No more than five minutes my lord." Marius voice came over the com-net. "We just got conformation that the Ice-Subs have been taken out. We have a sixty percent capture rate."

"Good, we might need them if the euros decide to press this issue." It wasn't the best choice for them, but never accuse a politician of the crime of competency. I figured it was a seventy-thirty against them intervening, gamblers odds. A war with them was not the worst possible event anyhow, they would still be tied down in Africa, meaning that Nelly would be the one engaging them with the full fury of over two thirds of the Britannian tank force.

It was how this world was meant to progress after all, and my status as a prince and commander would mean I was likely to be assigned to it if war were to breakout. Which would leave me far from the action in Asia and the pacific. Far from where my future knowledge brought its advantages.

I would be able to work around it but I honestly would prefer an assignment to the pacific. A posting in Hawaii did not sound like a bad thing. At least for a while, because knowing myself I would get bored within a month.

An explosion was heard, first just a singular loud blast in the distance, almost like fireworks, until others joined it. A song of bangs and cracks echoed around us, reaching its crescendo when the engines of jets raged above us.

It was time. My first true battle. My first true war.

Primo Victory began playing, Sabatons music the background for conquest as I flexed a mental muscle only those with it could understand, my eyes coming aglow with the symbol of a crane mid-flight as I extended my perception beyond mortal sight peering straight into the mind of all those around me, knowing their actions before even they did. It felt like coming home, felt like belonging.

Through the gates of hell! As we make our way to heaven!

Our landing craft began to accelerate quickly, I powered up Leonidas as they did. My knight did the same with his frame, as did the three other SPARTAN I's on this craft. I was bringing a total of two dozen SPARTAN I's. Along with a battalions worth of old Glasgow's, some hundred units total and two squads of Sutherlands, numbering twenty-two machines.

After we had secured a beachhead the infantry would come in so we could continue to push for as long as we had fuel. It would be a textbook heavy cavalry charge, only with mechs. And against bunkers.

You know, normal people things.

The craft crashed into the sand bank just off the shore. And its doors crashed down with a mighty slam, revealing the beach in front of us. The bunker was just up the hills, already raining fire and rockets towards us. It was lucky the Strike-craft took out the heavier guns, or else we would have likely not gotten past this point.

Yet the heavy guns were not there anymore and when the ramp had fully lowered I sent Leonidas forward at full speed towards the bunker. These bunkers were built to hold back infantry and slogged down tanks, not Knightmares. And it showed because I deftly managed to dodge most shots coming my way, only a few low caliber rounds connected with my frame, leaving pot marks in the paint and metal.

I was within range of the bunker a few seconds later, its concrete walls thick and made to withstand both direct fire and bombardment. Yet I had something to pierce it, with a push of a button a small section of Leonidas's right shoulder opened up as the armor slid away to reveal a small missile with a tip glowing a soft pink.

It shot off with a screech, crossing the distance between me and the bunkers wall in a second. When it impacted a bright pink flash enveloped the wall as the sakuradite in its warhead detonated. When the light faded, it revealed the shattered remains of the bunkers front wall.

It had conveniently taken the shape of an angled ramp. I proceeded with the only logical course of action and steered Leonidas into the bunker. Its golden armor getting scratched as the loose bits of concrete fell on it. The inside of the bunker was desolate and destroyed, riddled with both shrapnel and death.

It was disgusting yet I had to continue on. These were not my troops, not my responsibility, not on my side. I had to fight, I had to win for those under my command. Death was not an option. Leonidas climbed to the top of the busted bunker, coming to face with a group of infantry.

Bullets rained down around Leonidas as I pushed my way forward past all opposition, my lance swept out and a small group of soldiers were gutted. I fired my shoulder cannon and a trench caved in on itself. I stabbed forwards and a tank went up in a flaming explosion.

My Spartans were just behind me flooding through the same breach as I had. Cleaning up those that I missed, my knight at their head. Then we encountered the first true resistance.

Knightmares, probably bought off of the black market, for they were either old models or cobbled together ones that looked like a breeze could knock them over. Yet they would still be a threat against our force if we did not take them out.

The most modern and intact Knightmare was a Panzer unit, most likely on loan from the euros. The thing was designated as the one most likely to be the squad leader by my onboard VI, and as such the target of most of my attention.

He was moving in the front of his charge, of its self not a bad idea for a British Knightmare, ones made for close range battle, but in a euro model designed for long range? That was not smart at all, even if he had more armor than all the other Knightmares in his unit. It would not matter at the range I would engage him.

My spear swept the legs out from under a Glasgow that tried to get in the way, before swinging on to leave a massive scratch in the barrel of the Panzers left arm-cannon, rendering it useless.

I then twisted and strafed to the left avoiding the shot from its right arm-cannon, before bringing my lance in for a piercing stab to the back off his cockpit. The machines movements stopped instantly and I withdrew my blood soaked lance. It shook me, the blood. But I would process the events of today at a later time.

I had to react immediately to another Glasgow taking aim at me, my first instinct was run, but I overcame it, turning to avoid its attack I brought the other end of my lance to bear in another stabbing attack. The lance penetrated directly into his drive core, causing an explosion that nearly threw Leonidas off its feet.

My spear was broken, but I had another three on me. The rest of the enemy Knightmares were destroyed and troops were disembarking on the beaches below us. We had secured the beach head, now to push to the cities and forts.

PRIMO VICTORIA!

…..

He chuckled, how did everything go so wrong so quickly. He had had everything planned out so perfectly, all was in place for his victory. The Britannia's had punched straight through all his defenses one by one.

The submarines? Captured. The AAA-guns? Raided by Spec-Ops. Shore batteries? Air-raid. Beach bunkers? Knightmare charge led by the gods damned Prince himself, in some kind of new prototype Knightmare.

He was fucked and aware of it too. His fortress was under assault from all sides, the great compound was formidable. Yet even its large walls and batteries could not hold forever, not against the firepower thrown at them. Not for long enough for the euros to finish their scrape with the Arabs at least.

He saw his end on the edge of the forest in front of him. The great golden machine resembled one of the Glasgow's he had acquired only taller and more broadly build to compensate for the added weapons and armor, the greatest thing distinction it was the metal fiber mohawk atop its faceless headpiece. It held its great spear by its side, the weapon had destroyed dozens of his Knightmares.

The fort shook as another volley of shells rained down upon it from the coast. The old Britannian battleship Nova Scotia had finally gotten into bombardment range and was laying its surprisingly accurate shots upon the fort.

He had no choice he had to range out. It was the only chance he had of breaking out into the mountains and forming a resistance. He had maybe two-dozen Knightmares of various types and quality. The only thing that stood between him and the safety of the mountains was the prince and his depleted guard regiment.

From what he knew of them the machines were formidable. A limited production prototype, SPARTAN I they were a called. The prince's machine however was different, not just because of its golden paint job, but because of its increased command equipment.

SP-01 Leonidas it was called, the commander of the 300 Spartans of the hot gates. Fitting he found, for while they would not be fighting Persians they would fall just as the Spartans at Thermopylae before the end. His machine was a customized Glasgow, upgraded with heavier armor, a shield, rifle with an axe shaped bayonet and a pair of horns mounted on its head. Ragnar it had been named, after the famous Norseman.

He slipped into the cockpit quietly. Around him the remaining Knightmare pilots did the same. Their machines were basic models purchased on the black market, Glasgows, Panzers, Gun-ru's and even a few B-rated prototypes that never saw production. Yet they were still Knightmares.

They greatest weapon of the modern age, Knights of old given new purpose. Pilots were valuable, which was why the Knightmare cockpit was first invented, as it took months if not year to train a good pilot. Landspinners were made to grant speed before unseen. Armor to protect valuable sakuradite was added after its discovery.

Weapons were surprisingly one of the last things thought up. As such nearly all manufactures build the frame to similar standards. While weapons systems varied greatly, such as the large tank guns of the euros, the lighter repeaters and rocket launchers of the Chinese, the machine guns of the Arabs or the melee and infantry like weapons of Britannia.

His own troops used a mix of all, which made tactics harder but gave an answer to most threats on the field. They were in the advantage in numbers, yet a few of his forces were made up from the uglies. Uglies were simply Knightmares made from pieces of different Knightmares held together with duct tape and their pilots anger. He chuckled at his own joke, as he sent his machine charging out the gate at full speed.

He fired his gun at every moving target, destroying tanks, APC's and infantry as he passed. It seemed that their charge had its desired effect. The Brits were not expecting the sudden forward movement, and their first line broke upon contact.

Then his men came upon the Spartans.

The fight was short, oh so short. Minutes, it took them 3 minutes to wipe out his nightmares. The Prince himself destroyed 5, his knight another 4. He himself was the last remaining, he could do nothing to stop the piercing blade from entering his machines chest.

The last thing he would ever see was the spear tip punching through his cockpit block and rapidly approaching his forehead.

….

Reykjavik fell quickly, most of the military had withdrawn to a series coastal forts not far north. From the reports that came to him he knew that it was but one of a few remaining bastions of active defiance.

They had already broken three forts, including the largest one on the island and the one housing the enemy high command. What remained here were simple troops and officers not ready for the coming storm. They could not be left to roam free, lest this become another area 11.

Iceland was important both for its location and its resources, sakuradite was prevalent in volcanically active regions. Most above ground volcano's with sakuradite deposits were under euro control, and most volcanic island chains were simply too small to sustain the industry required for its safe extraction.

There were three exceptions however, the first had been the place where sakuradite had first been discovered, Hawaii. The next was Japan and its impressively massive deposits, the largest in the world.

Last as one can guess, was Iceland, with nearly completely untapped deposits of the room temperature superconductor. With these three under the control of the empire we had more potential sakuradite output then the Euros and Chinese.

The only reason we did not already is because of the stiff resistance we were encountering from the Japanese. Imperial administrators expected the newly conquered Japan to deliver the same amount of sakuradite proportional to its size as Hawaii.

That was unlikely to ever happen as the industry on Hawaii ran the best organized mining operation in history, using a complainant population, whilst under government subsidy. Nobody could recreate that with Japan, not without decades of suppressing native culture and identity to make the area as compliant as Hawaii.

Iceland however, was different. First of all it has a far smaller population compared to Japan, whilst being close enough to the homeland to encourage migration. The natives where of European decent and therefore generally more familiar to manage.

And if they proved uncooperative? Well it would not be the first time Britannia replaced a population with a more productive one. I was shook from my thoughts when a call beeped in my cockpit, I answered quickly.

"My lord, Nova Scotia, Wallis and Victory are in position."

"Good, tell them to begin."

My orders were executed quickly and the big gun ships began to deliver their massive loads of ordinance upon the fort. In under a minute it signaled its surrender.

We had stopped encountering Knightmares hours ago and I should have probably left the field by now. But that would mean facing what I did here today, I was not ready for that. I would break down, that much I knew for sure, I could not so that whilst there still were battles left to fight here.

…

The Shadow they called him now, at least in the ranks, for he followed in the one cast by his lord, on the field and off of it. He was the first trough the breach behind him, the one cutting down the enemies he missed in his charge forward.

It was fitting he thought. A good nickname for himself.

His lord however was not doing as well as he himself was. The man he had come to admire and call his brother was nearly broken. The killing was in his blood, Marius knew but the man was not used to it, maybe he would never be. Yet the prince did as was necessary for his fatherland and for those under his command.

Seeing his always stalwart friend, usually so composed and in control, crying and completely out of it. It was a surreal thing to see. It wasn't until the following morning that Alexander was able to speak normally once more and he was still not back to his usual self.

Only when he got back to the bridge of the Douglas, did he truly began to return to his old self. The Douglas was the temporary center of governance for this new part of area four, until order was returned and governance could be given to the administrative center in Greenland. It was likely that a new government center would be built in or around Reykjavik however.

He and Lex had a week to hunt down the last remnants of Iceland's military, per Lex's plan of course. The prince wished to keep his promise to the Emperor, to not anger the man, or be forced to face his wrath.

Then there was the matter of the promised reward, Marius did not know what would in tale but the Emperor did not make promises lightly. At minimum it would mean an important command.

…..

'Depression is a bitch, I got through it twice before and will probably get it again.'

Alexander Andreas Gustavus Di Britannia.

All credits for lyrics go to Sabaton and their amazing songs, please check them out if you are into history, metal or both!