Ch. 34: The first positive psionic

A.N.:

Hey everyone,

As promised, it is an action chapter and a pretty dark one if I do say so myself.

A little while back, Culebra del Sol asked me what a positive psionic would be, as I would consider most of the characters in F.E.A.R. and in my story to be negative psionics or neutral to slightly positive psionics, in the context of my story. Well, this chapter addresses that.

Now, on a personal note, as I stated at the beginning of the new chapter of my other story, to the certain people who know who they are, stop asking me to remove The Broken Solider and The Inferior Soldier from the site. I am sorry that my stories don't fit your view of F.E.A.R. but, seriously, if you don't like my stories, no one is forcing you to read them. Okay?

I am glad that you get to voice your opinions without fear of secret police abducting you in the middle of the night but...f**k off and find something better to do with your time than trolling this site, alright?

To my regular readers, I am sorry, I am not talking to you. I seriously hope that you guys are enjoying my stories. I am trying my best to deliver for you guys in these chapters.

Right then,

You know the drill. I love feedback :)

Read and review if you want...etc.

The jarring impact nearly caused me to black out, but somehow, I managed to prevent that from happening. When I opened my eyes, I was met by the sight of a blood red sky. After groaning in discomfort for a moment, I said through my com link with my voice still modified by the Replica helmet of the RODT armor, "Replica Command, Commander Becket confirming a successful touchdown."

A Replica Heavy Trooper's image appeared in my HUD as Replica Command replied, "Command copies confirmation of a successful touchdown, Commander Becket. Sir, update on Akira's Forces: Akira's northern advance has reached the city of Stalingrad. The Russian Army has fought them to a stalemate but it is currently unknown how long they will hold out."

I replied, "Copy that."

His image left my HUD seconds later. With my stomach still feeling like it was down around my feet, I pressed my forehead against the hatch cover and continued to groan for a moment. "Ooh, that looked like it hurt my love." I turned my head to the right to see Alma in her child form next to me in the pod's cramped interior. She had a worried look on her heart-shaped face as she studied me.

Shortly afterwards, she lifted her tiny hands up to gently hug my upper torso. As she held me, she asked, "Are you okay Michael?"

With a gravelly voice, I replied, "Does it look like I am okay you stupid girl?"

She smiled slightly as she rubbed the left side of her head against my armored right chest. "Aw, did the big bad soldier get a boo-boo?" She taunted with her childish siren voice.

Forcing myself off the hatch cover, I growled, "I'm fine." A flash came over my body and seconds later, my face was the face of Mr. Death and my body was encased by my Delta Force Dark Signal Armor. My HUD glasses recalibrated and then I spoke into my com link, "Dark Signal, sound off."

Alpha 1's image appeared in my HUD as he replied, "Alpha 1 here, Michael."

His image left my HUD and was replaced by Foxtrot 813's image as he replied, "Foxtrot 813 here, sir."

His image was replaced by Bravo 2 as he replied, "Bravo 2 here, sir."

Seconds later, Bravo 2's image was replaced by Juggernaut's though the armored brute did not audibly reply. Finally, his image was replaced by Point Man's though, like Juggernaut, he did not audibly respond. With all the members of Dark Signal accounted for, I ordered them, "Regroup on me."

They replied with their respective statements and I deactivated my com link. "Michael?" I looked back over at my companion. When I did, she continued with a worried tone, "Are you okay?"

I nodded as I replied, "I'm fine Alma."

She said, "I'm sorry I teased you."

I smiled slightly before I said, "Don't be, I like your teasing. Now, we've got a job to do." She nodded before she dissolved into a cloud of rose petal colored ash. I glanced up and located the hatch cover release button. Morales had been right when he had said that this mission was all but suicidal. After steeling myself, I raised my right hand up and punched the awaiting button.

My reflexes activated instinctively as the hatch burst open. Drawing my magnum from its holster, I exited the pod. I took in my surroundings within a second. I had landed to the south of the site, as planned. The forest was so thick that I could not locate my team's pods. For the moment, we were out the defender's line of fire due to the thick vegetation between us and the defensive line around the headquarters. Having had failed to detect any hostile contacts, I deactivated my reflexes as I holstered my revolver.

My team had yet to appear, but that did not surprise me because they had to gather their gear. I turned back to my pod, which been scorched by the entry to the extent that it now sported a nice charcoal black exterior, and grabbed my gear bag from where I had secured it before launch. After retrieving my gear bag from its slot in my pod, I opened it and began to retrieve the assorted items from it. My Patten PK470 Assault Rifle, two frag grenades, two shock grenades, two incendiary grenades, two proximity mines, around four hundred rounds of 7.8mm ammunition, and three medkits. As I placed my gear in their respective positions along my armor, my squad gathered around me.

When everyone had gathered around me, I asked Alpha 1, "Alpha 1, report."

He informed me, "All Dark Signal members present and accounted for, Brother."

I nodded before I replied, "Outstanding, I would say that that was a pretty successful test of the personnel pods."

He laughed with his repeated grunts before he said in agreement, "Yes, I would say so too, my friend."

Once I had everything in place, I motioned with my hands to ask my team if they were ready. They indicated that they were set. With my rifle firmly in my grasp, I motioned for us to move out. Taking point, I led my men forward in a crouched posture. As we moved between the rows of trees, the stench of gunpowder and spent ordinance filled the air. We passed craters where the NATO defenders had launched mortar rounds against the incoming legions of hell soldiers.

The fact that the defenders had mortars caused me to pause. If Alma was right about Akira getting to the commanders, then we would have to alter our tactics if the defenders possessed potent hardware. I needed to know more about the NATO positions. It was time for a recon of the area. As I moved towards an opening in the forest, I spoke into my com link, "All teams, report."

Delta 1's image appeared in my HUD as he reported, "Wolf Pack reporting in, sir. We are across from the northern edge of the complex. I have eyes on heavily fortified enemy positions."

Foxtrot 1101's image replaced Delta 1's in my HUD as he reported, "Foxtrot Team reporting in, sir. We are approaching the complex from the west."

I ordered them, "Hold your positions."

They replied, "Roger that, sir. Holding position."

We came to a small clearing approximately three hundred yards from the complex. I looked over at Bravo 2 and ordered him, "Deploy the UAV."

He replied, "Yes, sir." He placed his M82A1 Barrett aside so that it was resting on its tripod. Then, he retrieved his backpack. After placing the backpack down on the forest floor, he unzipped it to reveal a small UAV reconnaissance plane. Looking like a remote controlled toy of the large AGM Reaper UAVs, most members of the Armed Forces saw them as a joke. However, for small units of Special Forces, the portable, durable planes were indispensable. Nearly invisible to the enemy, the small planes gave field commanders the unparalleled ability, though in retrospect, I realize that the Replica were built for that same reason, to see the enemy force that they were up against and make appropriate adjustments to their soldiers.

Bravo 2 checked over the plane's parts and surveillance equipment for a moment. Then, he motioned a thumbs up at me with his right hand. I nodded back and then spoke into my com link, "Delta 1, Foxtrot 1101, sync your HUD to Dark Signal's UAV."

They replied, "Yes, sir." Moments later, they said, "HUD's synced, sir."

I replied, "Copy, standby." I activated my own HUD's UAV program. Being a small computer, my HUD had various programs, one of which was a program that allowed me to view the UAV's surveillance camera's feed and remotely pilot the vehicle. A square area appeared in my HUD and after a few moments of static, the live feed of the plane's surveillance camera appeared in the square. I motioned at Bravo 2. He grabbed the UAV and ran forward a short distance before throwing it into the sky.

The plane's tiny electric motor kept the UAV aloft as I guided it through the air using my HUD's program. As I maneuvered the UAV high above the complex, I was stunned by the level of opposition that I was facing. The NATO soldiers had surrounded the complex with sandbags and riot barricades. Set up in a rectangle, the defensive line was well organized with multiple layers of defenses. The first layer was a line of riot barricades with approximately thirty infantry on all sides. They were heavily armed with M4 Assault Rifles, Squad Automatic Weapon machine guns, grenade launchers, and light anti-armor weapons. Behind them, there was a layer of heavy machine gun emplacements that appeared to be Browning M2 .50 caliber weapons. They were placed in an organized manner at four per layer behind the infantry in the fire zones that were between the gaps of the riot barricades.

Moving further, I saw that the next layer was a group of sharpshooters that had taken up position in riot control towers with two in each layer. Their weapons appeared to be bolt-action, but beyond that, I could not discern their exact identity. Moving past the defensive lines, I cringed as I saw the group of M1 Abrams Main Battle Tanks. That was going to be a huge problem.

The American M1 Abrams was a widow maker with its advanced weapon systems, its 120mm main cannon, its .50 caliber and 7.62mm machine gun secondary armament, its thick armor plating, and its powerful gasoline engine. In total, I counted four of the nearly invincible behemoths that were just waiting approximately 100 yards behind the last defensive line. Even if something got through the soldiers, the fortresses on chain-drive wheels would crush it beneath their 62 ton armored hide.

However, it was the sight of the pair of AH-64 Apache Attack Helicopters being refueled and rearmed on the makeshift helipads atop the roof of the main building that sent a chill down my spine. Tanks were one thing, but Apaches were another thing entirely. The insidious flying killing machines were death incarnate; especially for lightly armored foot soldiers. Assuming that, by some miracle, one lived long enough to see the Apache that had him or her in its sights, the devilish machines were nearly impossible to shoot down due to their massive offensive capabilities and seemingly impossible maneuverability. In the proper hands, the helicopters were capable of barrel rolls, a maneuver traditionally resigned to fighter aircraft. Just one could dominate an airspace, but I was facing a pair of them.

Though I was facing a well-defended complex, I steeled myself and focused on accomplishing my mission. There is a reason why we Spartans are feared Amara. We are more than just skull thumpers. We do not just kill our enemy and dominate the battlefield; we annihilate our enemy and own the battlefield. Mediocrity is for grunts and pencil pushers. The world fears us my beautiful daughter. It reminds me a little of the days during the Cold War when the world stood paralyzed in fear at the sound of the chorus of the Soviet Union's anthem and the sound of their rockets. Now, the world is paralyzed in fear at the sound of your mother's music box and the sound of the Replicas' modified voices.

Alpha 1 interrupted me by asking, "You having fun, Brother?"

I replied, "Hey, I am trying to make it interesting. Besides, it is true. They do fear us."

He said, "Affirmative, but you are making us sound like demons or something. It is a little uncomfortable."

Amara commented, "Really Uncle? That is pretty humble talk for a man that was engineered by Armacham to be a counter for my Brother Point Man if he ever went berserk like Paxton. They made Scarlet to counter Father and Mother but they made you to be a counter for their first Origin Prototype. Since he had enhanced reflexes, they engineered you to be a super weapon."

My friend replied, "I do not understand what your point is, your majesty."

Amara explained, "Anyone that was made specifically to be able to kill my Brother is the closest thing to a demon that lives on this side of the gate to the Underworld."

He said, "I prefer to be called Uncle, thank you."

I interrupted them by saying, "Hey, would you two let me tell the story?!"

Amara looked back at me with an enraptured look on her angelic face. I continued with the story.

I telepathically ordered my men, "Bravo 2, once the UAV has been recovered, make your way to the church and set up for fire suppression. Foxtrot Team and Wolf Pack, maintain current positions and hold fire unless necessary. Standby for Power Armor support."

They replied, "Roger that, sir."

I maneuvered the UAV back to our location. Bravo 2 caught it and repacked it into his backpack. Then, after retrieving his Barrett, he silently made his way towards the church to the west of the complex. I deactivated the program on my HUD and the screen returned to normal. Beside me, Alpha 1 asked through our link, "So...the Americans wish to play with big toys, Brother?"

I audibly laughed darkly before I replied through our link, "It does appear to be that way, bro. Well then, I suppose that it would be rude of us not to oblige."

He laughed with his repeated grunts for a moment before he said, "Affirmative."

It was the perfect opportunity to show the world that the era of the tank was over. I communicated with Ishimura through my com link, "Ishimura, enemy heavy armor and emplacements have been encountered. Deploy Titan Team 1 to grid Tango-Omega 12."

Foxtrot 631 replied, "Commander Becket, confirm order to deploy Titan Team 1 to grid Tango-Omega 12."

I said, "Order confirmed. OD authorization code: Gamma three seven Mike five four Sierra seven nine Charlie."

Foxtrot 631 replied, "Roger that, sir. Commencing REV8 Power Armor drop. Launching in three...two...one...mark. Attention all Replica units, today, as of 23:40 hours, REV8 Leviathan Power Armor has been deployed to grid Tango-Omega 12."

I smirked as the four meteorite looking objects screamed down through the blood red sky. They impacted the ground fifty yards from our position with such force that the ground shook and multiple trees toppled to the ground. The Americans wanted to play with big toys? We would definitely oblige. When the dust settled, four massive REV8 Leviathans were standing before us. Looking like a battle tank, without a main cannon, on legs, the Leviathan was the most heavily armed and armored vehicle in the Replica arsenal. Armed with laser cannons and rocket launchers, the Leviathan had potent offensive capabilities. Its thick armor protected it from just about everything and the strength of its legs allowed it bash its way through reinforced concrete walls.

Shaking the ground as they moved, the Leviathans formed into a line before me. The pilot of the lead Leviathan contacted me, "Titan Team 1 awaiting your orders, sir."

Smirking, I telepathically asked, "You see that defensive line that is in my way?"

The Replica pilot replied, "Affirmative, sir."

Still smirking, I replied, "Flatten it. Kill anything that gets in your way. Lethal force is authorized."

The Replica said with a flat tone, "Roger that, sir. Weapon systems online."

The four massive bipedal weapons of war began to march towards the Southern Defensive Line. Following behind them, I ordered my team, "Dark Signal, form up behind the Leviathans. Use them for cover and provide fire support." Without acknowledging the order, my team formed up with me. As we followed the Leviathans, I contacted the other teams, "Wolf Pack and Foxtrot Team, Dark Signal is approaching the Southern Line with Titan Team 1. Once the NATO defenders abandon their positions in the Northern and Western Line, commence sweep and clear operations."

Foxtrot 1101 and Delta 1 replied, "Roger that, sir."

As we neared the edge of the forest, overhead, the storm clouds of the blood red sky began to rain down fiery drops of hellfire. Bravo 2 contacted me, "Commander, Bravo 2 reporting in. I have set up position in the church tower. I have the commanding officer of the Southern Line dead to rights. Requesting permission to terminate target."

The Leviathans emerged from the tree line. The NATO Defensive Line was less than seventy five yards from our position. I saw them freeze in shock and observed the barest signs of fear in their body language. I replied, "Bravo 2, fire at will." At that moment, flash of lightning lit up the sky and seconds later, a clap of thunder rocked the area. No one ever heard the shot. From where he was just behind the second layer, the NATO officer's head suddenly exploded as the .50 BMG round hit its mark. As the body slumped to the ground, I heard the melody of Alma's music box begin to pipe through the complex's intercom system. As it filled the air with its soft, haunting melody, I communicated with all the Replicas in the field, "All units, fire at will."

The Replicas, including Alpha 1, gave off a loud, throaty war cry that filled the air for a brief moment. Seconds later, the Leviathans began to fire their laser cannons at the NATO soldiers. One of the sharpshooters fired a flare into the air. As the red projectile traveled up into the sky, an alarm began to sound in the complex. However, the alarm suddenly ceased and the soft melody of Alma's music box once again filled the air.

Shortly afterwards, Titan 2 fired a barrage of rockets at the sharpshooter that had fired the flare. The rockets screamed through the air before exploding against the riot control tower. The explosions caused the tower to collapse to the ground on top of one of the machine gun emplacements. The men that had been operating the machine gun were crushed beneath the heavy steel frame of the collapsed tower.

As small arms fire ricocheted off the Leviathans, I aimed through my rifle's scope and picked off the NATO soldiers one at a time as I slowly advanced behind the massive machines. To my left, Point Man did the same with his G2A2 Assault Rifle. To my right, Alpha 1 was hip firing his Vollmer Ultra92 Automatic Shotgun at the defenders to draw them out from behind cover so that I could cut them down with my Patten. Beyond him, Foxtrot 813 was firing at the enemy soldiers with his Patten PK470. To the left of Point Man, Juggernaut was tearing into the NATO positions with the spent uranium rods of his Hammerhead.

Bursts of blood could be seen around the defenders' positions as the NATO soldiers fell one by one to our onslaught. Meanwhile, the electric blue colored pulses from the laser cannons of the Leviathans ate into the soldiers as their high energy impacts scorched whatever they touched. The sight of the uniformed soldiers collapsing to the ground with a huge burning hole in their chests caused bile to build at the back of my throat.

Guilt momentarily filled me as I remembered that I likely knew some of these men. The feeling of guilt was soon joined by a feeling a deep sorrow as I remembered the life that I had once had. A little over a year prior, I would have sooner self-terminated before I even considered betraying any fellow soldier who had also sworn an oath to defend their countrymen against tyranny and oppression with her or his life. War is never fair; I was no stranger to that fact. I had seen how cruel human beings could be to each other, and I had done worse myself.

There is nothing honorable or noble about war. No, war is dirty and disgusting; Hell on Earth. A government can make all kinds of lies to justify what it sends naïve young adults and hardened professional veterans to do in its name. There is always some lie that is feed to the public via media that justifies the maddening ballet of blood and steel that human beings call war. However, it is always up to the individual soldier to justify the blood on his or her hands somehow.

If they do not, the fragility of the human psyche rears its ugly head. Left to its own devices, the soldier's mind becomes its own worst enemy. Mental scars are just as lethal as any weapon of war. I had seen strong, brave soldiers crack from the ghosts in their mind. The sight of the dead look in their eyes is forever burned into my memories and the sound of their defeated screams haunts me to this day.

"Find something to hold onto, kid." My mentor told me. "Whatever it is, hold onto it and never let go. Never. Ever. Let. Go."

I asked him, "What do you hold onto, sir?"

He looked at me and said, "Alice."

Confused, I asked, "Who is Alice? Old friend?"

He shook his head before he explained, "No, kid. Alice is the truck that I have always wanted to have. When I was a boy, I wanted to own a truck one day. When I joined the service, I realized that I would not be able to own one until I retired because I would be leaving her sitting for months at a time. Machines rot like that, kid. I love Alice too much to let her rot. So, the day that I retire, I am going to find some little farmhouse somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I will build her from scratch. Then, I will live the rest of my life there in peace with Alice...far away from people that I could hurt...I'm tired of hurting people, kid,...in fact, this assignment is the final one for me...I've got nothing left in me. After this one, the mask is yours, kid."

Stunned, I replied, "Sir?"

He smiled slightly before he said, "I've taught you everything that this old man knows. I know that you won't let me down, kid. After all, you are my so..."

Suddenly our driver called out, "Holy shit, hold onto somethi..."

Our APC shook violently as it was stuck by RPG warheads. Flames overwhelmed my vision and I blacked out.

The image of Amara and Alma's angelic faces filled my mind and I pushed the guilt and sorrow back down. Pushing my emotions aside, I continued to fire my rifle at the enemy soldiers, now with renewed vigor and purpose. By that time, we were twenty yards from the defensive line. The first riot barricades were crushed beneath the heavy feet of the Leviathans. Beyond the last remaining tower, I saw waves of reinforcements running towards us.

Foxtrot 1101 and Delta 1 contacted me, "Commander, the Western and Northern Lines have been abandoned. Commencing sweep and clear operations."

As I reloaded my rifle with ricocheting and wayward rounds whizzing past my head, I replied, "Copy that. No quarter given and don't stop till you reach the main building."

They replied in unison, "Yes, sir."

I had just reflected on our amazing luck that nothing bad had happened yet when Alpha 1 suddenly called out, "Apaches incoming!"

Sure enough, the pair of helicopters appeared overhead. I yelled, "Take cover!" The first Apache took aim at Titan 3 and unleashed its armament upon the advancing Leviathan. The rounds from the Apache's 30mm chaingun dented the Leviathan's armor but otherwise failed to inflict any damage. Titan 3 retaliated by firing a barrage of rockets. However, the unguided warheads were no match for the Apache's maneuverability and it easily dodged the barrage. Afterwards, as it strafed around the bipedal tank in a circle while the Leviathan continued to advance forward in formation with the other three units, the Apache fired a barrage of Hellfire missiles.

The anti-armor warheads screamed towards Titan 3, but at the last second, the Leviathan fired flares into the air and the warheads missed their mark as they flew off in different directions as they chased the flares. Meanwhile, the second Apache had taken aim at Titan 1 and the two were currently locked in a stalemate as well. As I observed the spectacle from behind the cover of a riot barricade, I attempted to formulate a plan to assist the embattled Leviathans.

Suddenly, as the first Apache leveled off in front of Titan 3, what sounded like a thunderclap ripped through the air. I saw the side of the canopy around the gunner shatter and a huge cloud of blood covered the inside his cockpit. As the other crew member scrambled to get the helicopter out of harm's way, a second thunderclap ripped through the air. As I watched in amazement, the same fate befell the second crewmember. The Apache began to roll and then descended towards the ground with its rotors whirling at full power. In a cloud of fire and sparks, the unmanned Apache plowed into the last tower. The two hunks of steel and armor slammed into the ground and took another machine gun emplacement, though its operators were already dead by that point, with them.

My mind tried to understand what had just occurred but drew a blank until Bravo 2 contacted me, "Enemy chopper down, sir."

Shocked, I looked at Alpha 1, but he shrugged to indicate that he was just as at a loss as I was. I asked the elite sniper, "I know that magicians never reveal their tricks, but I have to ask...how the fuck did you pull that little stunt off?"

Bravo 2 grunted a quick laugh before he explained, "Raufoss Mk 211 Mod 0 cartridges, sir. Packs a .30 caliber tungsten penetrator, zirconium powder, and Composition A explosive. Designed to be anti-material...not anti-personnel, but kills just the same. If it breathes or has a living operator, I can kill it, sir."

Titan 3 commented, "Thanks for the assist Bravo 2."

Bravo 2 gave off a snort before he replied, "Trooper, I had better be getting more than a thank you. Raufoss Mk 211 Mod 0 cartridges aren't cheap. Had to trade my other rifle with a sniper from 3rd Battalion for a box of twenty...and they kick like a bitch even with my baby's recoil springs. You owe me ten standard .50 BMG rounds."

Titan 3 said, "Understood Bravo 2."

Breaking up the two Replicas, I said, "Hey focus you two. We have a job to do. Bravo 2, outstanding work. Keep it up."

Bravo 2 replied, "Yes, sir."

Beside me, Alpha 1 asked, "Ever feel like you run a kindergarten class, Brother?"

I laughed briefly before I replied, "Indeed I do."

That just left the last Apache. The helicopter, having witnessed the demise of its partner, suddenly targeted me. Caught off guard, I did not have time to activate my reflexes. Watching my back, Alpha 1 grabbed me by the back of my vest and dragged me back behind the relative safety of the riot barricade. However, the black colored barrier quickly gave way to the onslaught of the chaingun. Before I could stop what was happening, protecting me once again, Alpha 1 used his body to shield me from the 30mm rounds by standing up in front of me and completely exposing himself to the incoming rounds.

A frigid stab of fear shot through me as I saw the rounds easily penetrate his armor. Blood shot out of his body as the rounds struck him with enough force to cause him to stagger backwards. He could have saved himself by quickly switching to his missile launcher, but, in his selfless attempt to protect me, he had instead turned himself into a human shield. Even as the rounds tore into his body, he refused to allow any harm to come to me by forcing his body to continue to stand in front of me.

Enraged beyond rational thought, I stood, dropped my rifle, and then, like how the Remnants back in Sparta let out their screams, I let out a demonic scream of pure anger and hatred that was loud enough to shatter the windowpanes of the nearby buildings. The ground beneath the Apache cracked open and seconds later, five huge coils of molten, rusted barbwire broke through the surface of the Earth. The Apache attempted to retreat, but I willed the coils to wrap around its hull.

Glaring at the helicopter with my glowing orange eyes as I clenched my jaws together in such a way that my canines pressed tightly against each other while I gave off an instinctive animalistic snarl, I willed the coils to rip the helicopter apart. The ear-shattering sound of shearing metal filled the air as the coils ripped the Apache into five different pieces. As the rest of the Apache was dragged by the coils of barbwire down into the Earth's molten mantle through the cracks that I had opened up, I willed the last coil to split in two and then bring the Apache's crewmen to me.

At my direction, the two coils suspended the two NATO pilots in the air before me. As the men flailed about as they attempted to get free from the coils, I projected my anger into them. They screamed in agony as white smoke began to radiate off their bodies. Their cries ceased as their flesh was liquefied, leaving only their bloodied skeletons. Then, the coils retracted back through the cracks with the skeletons still in their grasp. In total, the sequence of events could not have taken more than sixty seconds from start to finish.

Immediately afterwards, my rational thoughts returned and my anger was instantly replaced by intense fright as I focused my attention back onto my Brother. I felt a false sense of hope as I saw him still standing where he had been. However, seconds later, I cried out when I saw my Brother drop his Vollmer unceremoniously onto the ground. I rushed forward as he dropped to his knees and caught him as he began to fall backwards.

I gently guided him down onto his back and then kneeled over him. I saw the ragged holes in his armor that had blood oozing out of them. For a moment, he was still breathing shallowly, but then, seconds after I had laid him down, he stopped. As he stopped breathing, the orange light that was being emitted from his one functional rectangular eye flickered and then gave out. Shock and fear filled me until my entire body was numb from the intense icy cold feeling that overtook my senses.

Rounds were still whizzing past me, but I was lost to the world. Though it was pointless due to the thick, rigid, armor covering his chest, I started performing chest compressions. As I did, with a shaky voice, I begged aloud, "No, no, no, no, please God no." My desperate attempts to compress his chest only resulted in the outer ballistic layer of his armor bowing slightly inward momentarily before rising back up to return to its normal shape.

Alma materialized in her child form and tried to pull me away from my Brother but I struck her hard across her face with the back of my right hand as I yelled, "Get the fuck off me!" I turned back to my Brother's body and began to strike the top of his chest with a series of hammer blows with my right fist. As I did, I yelled, "Come on! I know that you can hear me you selfless bastard! Come on! Don't you dare fucking die on me you son of a bitch! Come on!"

A NATO grenade exploded a few feet away but I did not care. Foxtrot 813 ran up and tried to pull me away from my Brother and to safety, but I used a light psychic blast to knock him back. I returned to Alpha 1's side and cupped both hands together before bringing them down onto his chest. The impact was enough to create a shallow impression on the surface of his armor but failed to cause a response from my friend. I yelled with a desperate tone, "Goddamn it A0001, I know you can fucking hear me! Wake up! Come on!"

My right shoulder jerked as a stray 5.56mm round struck me just below the shoulder blade. The high velocity round punched through the lightly armored section of my vest and broke the underling bone. Ignoring the pain and the blood that was dripping from my wound and down onto the top my friend's armored chest, I grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking him. As I did, I whimpered, "No...I love you Brother...please...come back...come back..."

Point Man, Foxtrot 813, and Juggernaut grabbed me and then dragged me away from Alpha 1. I tried to get free as I begged them, "No, let me go. I need to wake him up before he gets hurt. Let me go. I am ordering you: let me go." However, my pleas fell on deaf ears and they continued to dragged me away from my Brother. They lowered me down behind the cover of an intact riot barricade a few yards away from Alpha 1.

I tried to get up and return to his side, but Foxtrot 813 physically restrained me up against the riot barricade. All I could hear were muffled noises as I half-heartily noticed Point Man and Juggernaut returning to firing their weapons at something. I did not care about them or whatever it was that they were shooting at. Tracer fire filled the air and the ground around me occasionally popped as stray rounds struck it. Not wanting to abandon him, I continued to try to get back to his side for a moment before my numb coldness turned into sorrow.

Shaking slightly and unable to stop the tears from escaping the confines of my tear ducts, I gave in and stopped trying to get up. Having not only lost my Brother but now also having had, at least in my mind, failed my mentor by showing weakness by crying, I began to sob in the gasping, shaky, hysterical manner of a child. Foxtrot 813 retracted from my body and retrieved a medkit from his inventory. Then, he began to mend the bleeding bullet wound in my right shoulder. After a moment, the wound had been healed and he retrieved his Patten PK470. Not leaving my side, he took up a protective posture. Though he was just trying to do the right thing, his actions caused me to endure a new wave of sobbing fits as I thought about Alpha 1 sacrificing himself to protect me.

As I laid there with my back resting against the black barrier, Alma materialized next to me in her normal adult form. She was crying as well as she pulled me to her. I buried my head into her chest as I continued to sob. She curled herself around me as we both fought to come to grips with what had happened. When I finally managed to calm down enough to talk, I begged her, "Do something...please."

She sniffled softly before she replied, "Michael, he's gone! I'm so sorry. There's nothing that I can do to..."

I launched myself against her and forced her onto her back. As I squeezed her neck with both hands, I snapped, "You brought me back on the operating table and in the amplifier. Don't fucking tell me that you can't help him! Do something goddamn it!"

She raised her left hand up and gently caressed the side of my mask-covered face. A new wave of sorrow hit me and I released my grip before lowering my head down to bury it in the center of her chest. When I had, I felt the urge to cry again but no liquid managed to come out of my tear ducts. As she held me, she said, "Michael, you weren't completely gone those times. I didn't bring you back from the other side of the abyss, I just pulled you back away from it before you crossed the threshold. I loved him too...more than you know. I swear, if there was something that I could do, I would do it. He's..."

"Uncle! No!"

Amara's cries caused us both to bolt upright. My stomach dropped as I saw her, in her eight-year-old projection form, kneeling over his body with her tiny hands on top of his chest as tears cascaded down from her cheeks onto his armored chest. Scrambling to my feet, I rushed over to her and tried to get her away from him before she got hurt. I fought to stay in control of my own emotions as I scooped her up in my arms and ran back to the safety of the barricade where my team had taken refuge.

As I sat back against the barrier, I fought to keep her in my grasp as she pounded against my vest with her tiny fists while she bawled hysterically. She kept demanding, between crying fits, as she tried to look back over at Alpha 1, "Why won't he wake up Daddy?! Why?! I want him to wake up! Why won't he?! Make him wake up Daddy please!"

Alma gently pulled both of us to her while she made soothing sounds to try to calm her daughter. I tried to explain to my child, "Amara, he's dead. He's never going to wake up."

She retorted, "I want him to wake up! He promised to tell me some more stories! He promised Daddy! He promised! He promised!"

Barely managing to control myself and stay calm, I replied, "Dead is dead, Amara. I'm sorry. He's gone."

She stopped trying to escape our grasp and buried her head into my chest as she cried. I glanced over at my team. They too seemed distraught. Even the normally unbreakable and robotic Point Man was noticeably firing his assault rifle slower than usual and was even holding it so carelessly that the butt of the stock was bouncing against his right shoulder when he fired it. As much as his death ripped into my heart, I knew that he would not have wanted me to jeopardize the mission and endanger Sparta by not eliminating the weak link of NATO. I had to complete the mission. When the time was more appropriate, I would finish my break down.

"Time?" Amara drew me from my thoughts. I looked down to see that she had stopped crying and was looking back to me with wide eyes. She repeated with more confidence, "Time!"

Alma asked her, "What about time sweetheart?"

Amara twisted her small body around to face her mother. When she had, she said, "Time Mother! That's it!"

Before I could stop her, she wiggled out of my grasp and ran back towards Alpha 1's lifeless body. We both chased after her. As she ran, she said, "Time is meaningless without a perspective...time has no true value on its own!" She reached him and pointed her right index finger at the air slightly above his body. When we reached her, she asked with joy in her voice, "Don't you see it?"

Confused, I replied, "See what sweetie?"

She twirled around for a moment before she stopped and looked at us with a happy smile. Alma asked her daughter, "See what honey? What is it? What do you see?"

Amara turned back towards his body as she replied, "Time. I see time Mother! Uncle is going to be okay!"

Still confused, I asked, "What are you talking about sweetie? What do you mean, you see time?"

She explained, "It is like a coin Father. Two different perspectives of the same thing. Heads, tails: dead, alive."

I said, "I still don't..."

Suddenly, a white aura enveloped her tiny body that matched the color of her dress. The air and ground around us began to vibrate. Having no idea what was happening, I could only watch mystified. Loose debris began to swirl around in the air above Amara and Alpha 1. She kneeled down and placed her left hand on his chest and her right hand around the top of his head.

I asked Alma, "What is she doing?"

My goddess did not say anything. Instead, she silently gazed at her daughter with a smile on her face that slowly grew as Amara continued to do whatever it was that she was doing. Meanwhile, Amara started to whisper statements that vaguely reminded me of the unintelligible whispering that Alma had done in Aristide's Penthouse.

As she continued to give off the chant like whispering, the blood red clouds above us began to swirl. As I watched, they formed into a spiraling cloud that looked like a developing tornado. Bolts of lightning started to shoot out of the edges of the cloud. Debris, chunks of the defensive line, trees, the bodies of the slain NATO soldiers, and even large chunks of earth lifted up into the air and then flew into the center of the spiraling vortex.

My com link activated as the image of the ex-F.E.A.R. Operative Jin Sun-Kwon appeared in my HUD. She frantically asked, "Becket, do you read? Our sensors are off the charts! These readings are impossible! I mean like biblical level impossible! And I am talking Old Testament level shit! What the Hell is going on?"

I was too stunned to answer her. The frequency of the flashes of lightning started to increase exponentially until it seemed like there were continuous pulses of electricity arching around the vortex cloud. The vibration of the air and ground increased as well. Soon, I had to fight just to stay upright. I begged Alma, "Alma, please, what is she doing?"

The raven-haired goddess replied, "Don't you see my love? Our daughter...she...is..."

I asked, "What? What is she?"

Alma suddenly hugged me close and kissed me quickly. When she retracted from me, she answered, "She is the first true, pure positive psionic!"

As she finished her statement, an enormous bolt of lightning, as big around as a skyscraper, erupted like a volcano out of the bottom of the vortex cloud. It stuck Amara and Alpha 1 with so much force that everything in the general vicinity, including Alma and myself, flew backwards through the air. As if I had been hit by flashbang grenade, my vision became white as my senses were overloaded. When my senses finally began to return, I found myself lying on my back with a riot barricade on top of me.

I pushed the barrier off me. All around me, there was dead silence and a kind of fog filled the air. My HUD flashed static for a moment before it reported, "Error...massive energy spike detected. Primary systems not responding. Rebooting, standby..." As I waited for my HUD to come back online and recalibrate, I tried to stand. However, as I tried to do so, I discovered that one of the straps of my vest was snagged in a crack that had opened up in the Earth beneath me.

I was so focus on getting loose that I failed to sense the approaching figure. It was not until the figure was standing little more than an arm's length away that I finally looked up. At first, I thought that the male shaped figure was Foxtrot 813 or possibly Point Man. To my horror, I was quickly proven wrong as the fog suddenly dissipated. Instead of being one of my squad, the figure was revealed to be a NATO soldier with his M4 Assault Rifle aimed dead steady at my face.

Subconsciously activating my reflexes, I reached for my .44 magnum. The world moved in slow motion as my right hand inched towards my revolver's grip while the soldier's right trigger finger ever so slowly began to squeeze the trigger of his rifle. Dread filled me as I realized that the soldier was going to win the race. Just as it seemed like I was going to join my Brother, an explosion rocked the air. In slow motion, a huge cloud of blood shot out of the soldier's back. Slowly, the soldier's face changed from smug satisfaction to confusion as he fell forwards. Following his body, I watched him until he hit the ground a few inches away from me.

My reflexes deactivated from being completely drained and time moved forward at a normal pace. As a pool of blood seeped out of my would-be killer's body, I looked away from him as I desired to learn the identity of my last second guardian. Out of the dissipating fog, a heavily built male-shaped figure walked towards me. When he got close enough for me to see him, I cursed my mind for playing a cruel trick. At first, I refused to allow myself to believe the sight before me. It was simply impossible. Amara appeared at the armored man's side and asked, "Do you see now Daddy?"

I nearly started crying again as I finally accepted what I was seeing. There, standing about two yards away from me, with smoke still coming out of the muzzle breach of his Vollmer, was a, very alive, Alpha 1. He gave off a deep laugh with his repeated grunts in the manner that minutes earlier, I had been forced to accept that I would never hear again. Then, as he raised his Vollmer up to rest over the top of his right shoulder, he taunted me, "Damn Michael, you look like how I feel bro."

Jerking against the snag, I ripped the strap off my vest as I jumped to my feet. In a second, I was hugging my Brother. Because he still had the trigger guard of his Vollmer in his right hand, he could only use his left arm to return the gesture. We stayed like that for at least a minute though it felt more like an eternity to me.

Finally, my brother whispered, "This is starting to get a little gay bro."

I briefly laughed quietly before I replied in a whisper, "Agreed. Okay, we break on three. Ready?"

He said, "Ready."

I counted down, "One...two...three." As I reached three, we simultaneously parted from each other. He presented my rifle to me and, smiling in gratitude and also because he was once again able to retrieve my weapon when I dropped it, I gently retrieved it from his grasp. Trying to reclaim some dignity, I said, "Well, now that that is over, we have a mission to...uh...you know...stuff."

He nodded and then replied, "Affirmative...the mission...right behind you Brother."

I smiled slightly as I lightly slapped the side of the top of his right arm with my gloved left hand. Then, I said, "Glad to have you back Alpha 1."

He gave off a quick laugh grunt and then said, "Glad to be back, Brother."