The Broken Soldier

by M10m gas mask soldier

He hated Alma. So why did he decide to fight for her as the Commander of the Replica and her husband? Leading the Replica and F.E.A.R., they freed Fairport and turned it into an international super power. When the F.3.A.R. Universe invades their own, can Becket, Alma, their daughter Amara, the Heavy Trooper Alpha 1, and their Replica Army save the world? AU Post-F.E.A.R. 2

61. Chapter 56: Past in the Present (lemon)

Ch. 56: Past in the Present (Lemon)

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A.N.:

Hey everyone!

I just wasn't feeling this story so I decided to take a break and start again fresh.

I see that some new stories have been posted since then. That's so wonderful! :) This underrated series deserves more attention!

Anyway, like I said, I am back on-board with this story, though it never once left my mind. I love Alma and all of the other characters!

Speaking of loving Alma, this is the new lemon chapter :) I tried to do something different with this one so please try to keep an open mind when you read it.

Read and review if you want :)

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I looked up from the holographic projection of the tactical overview of the battle as one of the Replica Engineers, who was sporting the standard Variant VII combat armor that had a dark orange color scheme with a glowing blue visor, entered the Forward Operations Control Center. He swiftly moved to stand before me and then went to attention with a salute. I returned the salute and then said, "At ease, Issac 1."

Lowering his salute, the soldier went to stand "at ease" as he replied with his modified voice, "Yes, sir."

When he was finished, I ordered, "Full report."

Issac 1 responded, "Yes, sir. Sergeant Holiday reports that all the bridges are clean and passable. We patched all the battle damage done to the bridges as well. We did, however, have to demolition Ten of Spades. The bridge had sustained irreparable structural damage and we had no alternative. We constructed another path across the river in its place. It is operational as we speak."

When I was certain that the Replica had finished his report, I said, "Understood, Issac 1. You're dismissed."

He went to stand at attention and then replied, "Yes, sir." The Replica left the makeshift control center after I returned the salute. When he left, I returned my attention to the holographic projection of the battlefield.

Following the successful capture of the beach head, we had pressed inland and, despite heavy casualties, we had relieved the besieged commando teams that were holding the bridges. Having essentially outrun our own supply lines, we had been forced to dig in on the enemy side of the structures until our supplies and reinforcements could catch up with us.

The majority of the Spartans were entrenched around the bridge Ten of Hearts. The majority of the soldiers at my disposal consisted of the squads from what remained of First Battalion. However, "Alma's Fury" had suffered extensive casualties. Out of the original thousand soldiers, only three hundred and thirty remained including the members of Dark Signal. Fortunately, the majority of the Replica that had been lost were replacements and, thus, the battalion's ranks were now filled with the battle-hardened, veterans from the Fairport Conflict and the subsequent tours of duty.

The remainder of our forces were comprised of a mix-match of squads from our various allied nations and a few units from other Replica Battalions. In total, I had exactly four hundred and seventy soldiers to hold the line until reinforcements arrived. In addition, I had ten Elite Power Armor units, fifteen REV6 units, ten armored personnel carriers including Dark Signal's APC, three 120mm artillery pieces, five M1 Abrams main battle tanks, four Chieftain main battle tanks, and three T92 main battle tanks at my disposal.

We had set up a defensive perimeter in the shape of a fan to protect the bridge. The artillery guns were in concealed positions on the opposite side of the river. The terrain itself was relatively flat like a desert with the occasional soft hill breaking up the seemingly endless flat, hellish landscape of Akira's Nightmare World. We were under near constant artillery strikes from Akira's Forces, but we had no choice except to wade it out until reinforcements arrived.

Akira's Forces were entrenched just beyond our perimeter along its entire length. Luckily, they also did not possess the necessary logistics to mount an assault. As a result, a temporary period of static trench warfare had taken hold on both sides. In all likelihood, this uncomfortable deadlock would not last more than a day at the most. Once our supply lines were organized and our reinforcements were feeding our forward advance, we would abandon the unsustainable Hell of trench warfare.

Sighing, I looked away from the holographic image and once again took in the dreary, underground room that had been hastily constructed to provide moderate cover from the enemy artillery salvos that graced us with their presence every ten minutes. The small space was the size of a modest cellar and the already limited space had been reduced further still by the instillation of the dinner table-sized holographic emitter in the center.

The walls were earthen aside from the supports that had been placed somewhat uniformly to provide a small reassurance that the walls and ceiling would not collapse. The supports had been fashioned out of whatever construction supplies could be scavenged from the surrounding hellish landscape. While it had the appearance of a death trap, the underground room was a far safer place to be than out in the open top trench that was above ground.

Looking back behind me to the right, I ordered the four Replica soldiers that were monitoring our tactical situation with the small array of devices that were along the square perimeter of the earthen walls, "I'm going up to the trench. Keep up the outstanding work, gentlemen. We will get through this just as we have before."

They all replied in a synchronized manner, "Yes, sir!"

I turned back to face the only exit to the room and then began to calmly walk forward. Beyond the exit, I found the shallow sloped rise that led up to the trench network above. The dreary underground area was eerily silent until I opened the shack-like door that covered the exit to the trench. As I opened the door, my senses were harshly assaulted by the sudden onrush of the sounds, sights, and smells of the hells of the trench.

Before me, I saw the nearby opposite trench wall that was nearly a foot taller than I was. Despite the darkness of the early morning hours, the entire area above ground was illuminated by the near constant flare rounds fired by the artillery pieces and mortars on both sides to illuminate the respective trenches. The harsh smells of spent gunpowder, engine exhaust, unwashed soldiers, blood, and human waste were heavy in the air. My body vibrated due to the constant weapon fire and explosions.

Taking cover against the trench wall before me, I saw three standard Replica soldiers armed with Patten Assault Rifles and a British soldier that had his face covered by a ballistic face plate and was armed with a M4A1 carbine. Their bodies and weapons were covered with dirt and ash just as everything around them was, which gave them the appearance of being part of the hellish landscape around them rather than being human beings.

I looked to the right and lazily took note of the seemingly endless trench that was filled with soldiers and equipment. I then looked to the left and took note of the mirror image of the right. As I did, what sounded like several freight trains roared overhead as the latest salvo from Athena and New Jersey screamed towards the enemy trench. Seconds later, the ground around me vibrated violently for a brief period of time as the massive 20.1 and 16 inch naval artillery rounds hit their marks.

I remained indifferent to the nightmarish world around me as I began to make my way down the left path. As I made my way through the chaos, I remained as far against the rear wall of the trench to ensure that I would not be in the way of a medic or an equipment/ammunition runner as they darted about in the trenches to aid and resupply their fellow defenders. Due to the fact that this situation was only temporary, an extensive, complex trench network had not been built. Instead, we had simply cut a single, long main trench beyond the bridge with several small paths that went to the rear line. The trench itself was built in such a way that, once our reinforcements arrived, it would be easily vacated and then back filled.

I felt lost and in a daze as I walked calmly through the trench. All around me, the world was in chaos. It all felt surreal and I could not help but isolate myself from it all. Even seeing soldier's limbs getting severed or their head nearly blow apart inches away from me did not cause any emotional reaction from me. Of course, it was our allied soldiers that I had to numbly watch get ripped apart like a disturbing macabre running joke. My soldiers' training and their inhumane discipline prevented such grim casualties even in this Hell on Earth.

Of course, there was nothing that could prevent the horrifyingly random carnage caused by the enemy artillery strikes. All you could do was get as small as possible and begin to mentally recount all the events that you were proud or ashamed of from your life until the shelling stopped. Even underground, there was no safety from the death that came screaming down from above.

My numb existence stopped when I saw Alma standing amongst the chaos nearly fifty yards away from me. She was in her healthy adult form and she was calmly looking back at me from over her right shoulder. Her glowing orange eyes were filled with warmth despite the world around her being so cold. Her long shinny raven hair flowed down onto her simple red dress. However, her dress was far too small for her goddess-like frame and, thus, the outline of her voluptuous adult body was easily visible as the firm and alluring curvature that soundly surpassed anything a human woman was capable of possessing in their perfection fought against the thin cloth prison for freedom.

The raven-haired goddess flashed me a small enticing smile and then motioned with her eyes before slowly walking away from me. At first, I was shocked that she could have such intentions in a nightmarish place such as this. I even considered to not follow her to avoid playing her twisted little game in such asinine conditions. However, as she continued to slowly walk away, my eyes took in the sight of her toned thighs before they slowly drifted up to the cruelly short length of her dress's skirt that was just barely long enough to prevent someone from being able to see her inviting, unspoiled nether region and then finally up to the seemingly impossible perfection of her firm buttocks.

As much as I hated to admit it, Alma had always been able to turn me into an obedient little puppy without much effort on her part. She even adored to watch me when I tried to resist her. Even more humiliating was the fact that part of me truly enjoyed the feeling of being so helpless against the twisted desires of the living incarnation of rage at its most primal. Like I had so many times before, I chased after the beautiful raven-haired psychic even as the world around me was filled with death and destruction.

At first, I moved at the same slow pace that I had before but I soon broke into a full sprint when I realized that I was falling too far behind. The numb daze that I had been in was gone as I chased after my wife in a single-minded manner. I seemed to be victorious when we came to the far end of the main trench. Not wanting to risk her getting away by teleporting to a different area in the trench, I rushed forward to grab her. However, I had fallen into her trap.

As my gloved fingers made contact with her sensuous frame, I suddenly blacked out. Pitch darkness consumed my entire being for what seemed like an eternity before I heard the sound of a young girl laughing in a creepy manner. When I was finally able to open my eyes, I found myself lying prostrate on a section of asphalt. The harsh, unforgiving material cut into the unprotected flesh of my face while its unnaturally hot surface sent a shot of painful feedback through my body as it scorched my skin.

Instinctively recoiling away from the source of pain, I placed the palms of my gloved hands against the road section beneath me and then began to push myself up to be able to stand. As I did, was able to see more of my surroundings and noticed that there was something familiar about the strange hellish red hue that blanked the entire section of a crumbling road that was before my eyes. However, just before I was able to remember why my bizarre surroundings filled me with such a strong sense of nostalgia, a stab of pain erupted inside my mind that was so intense that it was nearly debilitating.

My surroundings were lost to me again as I was overwhelmed by a feeling of vertigo. My memories became distorted as I struggled to reel in my senses and regain control of my body. When I finally did, I was able to remember that I was a member of a top secret team in the United States Army's Delta Force that had been code-named Dark Signal. We had been sent into the city of Fairport on a highly classified mission. We were to take a civilian by the name of Genevieve Aristide into protective custody.

Aristide was the President of Armacham Technology Corporation, one of the most powerful corporate juggernauts in the history of mankind and was a major defense contractor with the Department of Defense. However, due to reasons that were considered to be well above our paygrade, we had been tasked with protecting her from a rapidly deteriorating situation in the city of Fairport and delivering her to higher authorities for questioning. The only information that we had been given was that we were to trust no one as the threat may or may not be from Armacham itself and that several Delta Force teams that had been sent into Fairport hours earlier on a joint operation with the Army's F.E.A.R. Organization had already been lost.

Still deeply troubled by what happened in South America only weeks prior, I had finally managed to fall asleep inside my team's APC as we were in route to Aristide's residence. Was I just dreaming? The sensations that I had been feeling were far more vivid than anything I had ever felt in a dream before. If I was not dreaming, then where was I now and how did I end up here? In addition, what happened to my team?

My thoughts were derailed when I became aware of a presence in front of me. Looking up, I was startled to see a pale, raven-haired young girl in a red dress returning my gaze with glowing orange eyes. It was then that I was able to see that I was in a nightmarish city that looked as though it had been hit by a nuclear bomb. The ruined buildings were all around me from where I was on a street next to the burning carcass of a sedan. The sky was filled with blood red clouds, which explained the surreal red glow that blanketed everything. Traces of smoke filled the air along with strange glowing balls of light that resembled fresh embers while the only sound that could be heard breaking the tomb-like silence was the faint whisper of a breeze.

Despite my surroundings, it was the strange individual before me that commanded all of my attention. The mysterious young girl's heart shaped face was partially shrouded by the rich, silky raven hair that flowed ever slightly due to the soft breeze. Her hypnotic glowing orange eyes held a look of power and authority that was completely alien for a small child. Their alluring glowing depths would be enough to put anyone under her spell despite the dark rings that surrounded them. Her pale pink lips seemed to be frozen in an expression of disinterest but still had an air of invitation.

While her face held the beauty and appeal of a blossoming goddess, her thin body was startling feminine for such a young child. The simple, long-sleeve, collarless red dress was noticeably unbecoming of such an enchanting girl due to its low-quality construction and simple bland design. However, it was still unable to hide the developing bosom or thin waist with its thick material. Her legs were thin but still appropriately muscled beneath the pale skin that was noticeably devoid of any imperfections. Meanwhile, her hands and feet were of perfect proportion and size.

However, despite the striking beauty of the young girl, there was no mistaking the thick layer of blood that covered her feet and both fibula. Specks of blood were visible along the remaining visible parts of her legs. Meanwhile, the hem of her dress was wet and had drops of blood falling from it. Nor was there mistaking the creepy, one-eyed, raged doll of a baby that she held in her right hand. As I scrutinized her body further, I also noticed a nearly invisible pulsating miasma around her entire frame that was clearly being generated by the girl herself.

Part of me wanted to retreat away from this girl no matter how beautiful she was but the way I felt when I looked directly at her glowing eyes was too overpowering for me to act upon my discomfort. I was filled with the indescribable sense that, for the first time since I could remember, I was a complete person. Since I could remember, I had always been bitter and angry because of a heartbreaking feeling that something very important to me had been stolen from me.

I knew this girl but I could not remember her. Even the traumatizing experience in South America was forgotten as I racked my memories to remember who she was and her significance to me. To my dismay, whenever it seemed as if the name that I wanted to know so desperately was just within reach, it felt as though there was some kind of mental block that prevented the memory from being accessible.

As if she could sense my distress and that I was not afraid of her, the mysterious raven-haired young girl took a few steps towards me while she also asked with an enchanting voice that seemed to echo through the entire hellish city around us, "You came back…I have missed you so much, Michael."

Shocked, I demanded, "How do you know that?! No one has called me that since…"

The mysterious girl interrupted, "Your father…"

Now slightly uneasy about the seemingly impossible extent of her knowledge about my past, I asked, "Who are you? How do you know about my father?"

The raven-haired lolita seemed amused by my uneasiness as her eyes began to glow brighter and the left side of her lips formed an almost invisible smile. She advanced until she was only an arm's length away as she replied, "Silly little boy…I practically raised you. Besides, we share everything…what is yours is mine and what is mine is yours." When she saw my confused expression, she let out a soft sigh and then raised her left hand palm up towards me as she said, "Touch me…I will show you."

I hesitated for a brief moment. There was a large part of me that was suspicious of the goddess-like young girl before me. However, the tiny part that burned with the desire to remember her was too overpowering. I slowly raised my gloved right hand out towards her outstretched left hand. My larger fingers inched towards hers ever so slowly until, finally, they made contact.

The second that we touched, I cried out as a sharp stab of pain erupted inside my mind. I recoiled away from the girl and then dropped down onto my right knee. As the pain grew into a pulsating river of what felt like lava that spread from my head into every inch of my body, I hunched over until my forehead was nearly touching the scolding surface of the asphalt while I pressed my hands against the side of my head. Images, sounds, and emotions all assaulted my mind's eye at once as the young girl's memories burned themselves into my very soul. Though I was only vaguely aware of it, the strange child had moved to be standing next to me on my right and had wrapped her arms partially around my armored torso.

Her voice suddenly filled my mind as she said with the same gentle tone of a mother consoling her child, "Shh…it's okay, Michael. Trust me. Don't fight it."

On the verge of losing consciousness due to the unimaginable agony that I was in, I decided to heed her advice and relaxed my body and mind as best I could. When I did, the memories became more perceivable and the pain subsided. I saw everything: her life and the horrors that filled it, her uniquely powerful psychic abilities, the secret relationship that we had ever since I was a child, the nature of her current existence, and, most importantly, I learned her name.

The second that her name was revealed, my own forcibly blocked memories of my childhood returned to me and corroborated the authenticity of the memories that she had shown me. In a way, our reunion was the final failure of her father's attempts to ensure that we would never be together. It was a bitter victory considering the years that had been lost. However, the unexpected silver lining was that now I was a highly-trained and seasoned operative of the United States Army's Delta Force.

Catching her off guard, I turned and then pulled her against my chest with my right hand pressed against her lower back and my left hand against the back of her head. Meanwhile, through our reestablished telepathic link, I cried, "Alma!" My beautiful companion barely had enough time to let out a small gasp before I pressed my lips against her colder, soft lips and then, not caring about her child-like appearance, I thrust my tongue into her mouth.

The suddenness of my actions allowed me to have the upper hand as I passionately attacked the inside of her mouth. However, my advantage was short-lived as she grabbed the back of my head with both hands and then passionately counterattacked my tongue with her smaller but more responsive tongue. Despite my tongue's larger size, I soon found that, to my dismay, the raven-haired psychic's smaller tongue was far more energetic and she was easily able to establish her dominance. At the same time, she raised her thin pale right leg and then pressed her right knee into my lower chest. Before I could react, she used her left leg and her staggering psychic power to force me onto my back.

With our passionate kiss unbroken, she repositioned her legs until, to my shock, she was effectively straddling my waist and pressing her spread nether region against me. A chill went down my spine when I felt her begin to rub against me. I was disgusted by my own body's reaction as my admittedly neglected libido went into overdrive. Fighting to remain in control of my own actions, I begged the aggressive young psionic, "No! Alma…no…please…d-don't! Not w-when you a-are a…"

However, Alma interrupted me and begged with a desperate tone, "I'm sorry, Michael but I need this! Please! I need this! I haven't felt anything worth living for since you left. Please, forget what the world thinks! Give me life! Please!"

I was struck by the shameless desperation in her tone. I had never heard her sound so vulnerable before and it frightened me more than anything that I had experienced in my time in the military ever did. Our time apart had clearly taken a far greater toll on Alma than I had thought and the fact that I was the cause of this desperate display only caused me even more turmoil. There was no limit to the things that I would do to make her happy but in our time apart, I had learned that there some things that were understood to be unforgivable. Not only was what Alma asking for taboo but, if I did do as she requested, I knew that there was no going back to the life that I had made for myself in the years following my departure from Fairport.

Alma had a caring, nurturing nature but she was also incredibly abusive and manipulative. I loved her more than anything but she tended to find amusement in making me do things that caused me to be uncomfortable. However, as I thought back to how my life had been without her, I realized that it had been incredibly dull and empty. Even in Delta Force, I had always felt unsatisfied with the predictability of what the future held. Alma brought chaos into my life but, while it was exhausting to try to keep up with her at times, she also kept my life from being depressingly normal and bland.

Realizing that I had made my decision, I withdrew from her mouth, causing a trail of saliva to land on her right cheek as I moved down to kiss and tease the soft flesh of her neck. Meanwhile, I relocated my right hand down to the back of her upper thigh. Remembering her less explicit weak point on the interior of her thigh, I then pushed the hem of her dress up as I moved my hand up to her sensitive nerve ending. When I located the sensitive area, I began to stimulate it.

My tactic had an almost immediate effect on the childish façade and Alma wrapped her arms tightly around my neck as she let out an audible noise that only emboldened me to continue stimulating her. It became harder to continue my somewhat underhanded tactic as she began to grind with increasing pace against my responsive body. Compounding the difficulty was that my control over my own natural instincts deteriorated with each movement of her hips.

Without even realizing it, our lips had become locked once again as both of us simply acted upon our primal instincts. It soon became a competition to see who could make the other find release first. As my mind became clouded and I became lost in our primal embrace, I realized that I had unconsciously relocated my hand and was now stimulating her directly. Unwilling to risk losing to her, I decided to continue due to the effect that it was having on her.

Just when we both reached the peak, Alma begged me, "Mi-Michael! Our time is about to run out! Please…I need…make me…make me…" In my panic, I moved one of the digits of my left hand, which caused an immediate spike in her pleasure. "Ah! Right there…don't stop…come on…yes…yes…I'm going to…AH!" Her audible scream and the feedback of her release pushed my body beyond its threshold and, thus, our contest ended in a draw as we both made each other find release at nearly the exact same time.

The raw, overwhelming nature of the sensation shattered my mind and left me clinging to the manipulative psychic like a lost child, who, in turn, had laid the right side of her head against the rough surface of my Kevlar vest so that my chin just barely rested against the top of her head. Finally, she managed to state with a goofy tone, "Tha-thank you, Mich-Michael." However, before I could reply, she informed me, "I…I have to leave now."

Horrified, I begged her, "No! Alma, don't leave! I love you! Please don't leave!"

She let out a breathless laugh as she pushed her frame up so that we were looking into each others eyes and then assured me, "I'll never leave you, Michael. Those that want to tear us apart are near and numerous but we'll never be without each other again. I promise."

Before I could reply, a blinding flash of light erupted before my eyes. When I was finally able to see again, I was met with the unwelcoming sight of Sergeant Jankowski's smug face mere inches from my own as he taunted me, "Nice of you to join us, sunshine!"

I only vaguely perceived the following mission brief, which was unnecessary since the mission dossier contained a far more in-depth description of the details of the operation. My mind was world's away as I thought about the implications of my actions in Alma's Nightmare World. I was ready and willing to burn the world for her but, alone, there was a practical limitation on what we could do and achieve against the enemies that were now all around us.

For now, my concerns were about the other members of Dark Signal. They could not be trusted and I knew that there was a very little chance that they would be willing to betray the United States for an individual that they did not even know. A knot formed in my lower abdomen as I arrived at the conclusion that there was only one solution to Dark Signal's interference in Alma's war against Armacham.

I would have to deal with them methodically because I would be outnumbered if I tried to kill them all at once. I could not have them preventing my capture and interrogation of Aristide. There was plenty of time to deal with them until then. Suddenly horrified by the ease and the detached manner that was able to plan the murders of the people that had been my teammates mere moments prior, part of me rose up and openly rebelled against this path of treason and violation of the oaths that I had taken as a Delta Force Operative. It was not too late to decide to not go through with this.

"Getting cold feet? You wouldn't disrespect mommy now would you, Michael?"

Torn from my thoughts, I looked around me to find that I was alone inside the APC. Seconds later, before my eyes, a humanoid figure began to materialize. I watched with a mixture of fascination and fright as the figure slowly took form until, no more than a minute later, the nude, healthy, full-grown body of Alma stood before me.

She was easily the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen. Her long rich dark hair partially shrouded her heart-shaped face before the majority of it went behind her back while the front bangs ended at her chest where the individual strands caressed the flawless flesh of her proportionally large breasts. Her built and well-defined abdominal muscles were visible beneath the tight skin of her thin lower torso. All of her arms and legs were symmetrical and also possessed noticeable muscle tone while still being very feminine.

As I silently took in the intimidating sight of her powerful and extremely attractive body, Alma smiled slightly as if she was pleased by my reaction to her new form. Then, she asked in a taunting manner with her siren-like voice, "You wouldn't choose your team over me would you?"

Before I could even begin to reply, she suddenly moved closer to me until her mouth was mere inches from my right ear. With her fully-developed bosom pressed against my chest and her wet tongue periodically teasing my ear, she whispered, causing me to shiver due to her cool breath, "Trust me, my silly little boy, you will enjoy yourself more if you act upon your darker impulses."

I gasped quietly as I felt something soft and cool grasp the growing length of my manhood. Realizing that she had unzipped my pants and taken hold of my member, I started to protest only to have her interrupt me when she said as she lowered herself down onto her knees before me, "Hush now. We don't have much time."

I finally managed to say, "Alma, no…stop…we can't…" However, I shuttered as nearly all thought left my mind when the beautiful psychic took my entire length into her mouth. I hunched over as I closed my eyes and gripped the cushions of the seats on either side of me as the incredible sensation of her wet mouth around my member filled my entire being from head to toe. Her lack of a gag reflex quickly became apparent as she was able to stimulate me with her mouth and throat without having to slow down or retract from me.

Desperately trying to hold onto as much sanity as I could despite the corrupting pleasure of Alma's inhuman proficiency with her body's pleasuring assets, I quickly lost any and all desire to do anything other than what the raven-haired demoness wanted me to do. Sensing my dissolving resistance, she asked in a taunting manner through our link, "Little boy, do you like your dirty girl? Hmm? Do you like her hot, tight body and what she can do with it?"

Fighting just to stay conscious, I replied submissively, "Y-yes!"

She continued as she intensified her stimulation, "That's right, you had better fucking like it! It is all for you and only you! I am your toy, Michael. However, if you disrespect mommy again, she will have no choice but to take your toy away. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head as I also replied, "Y-y-yes, mommy! I und-underst-stand!"

Nearly every trace of my sanity was ripped away as her stimulation intensified to a level that my human body was not equipped to be able to handle or comprehend. Just as I was about to free-fall down the side of the enormous cliff that the demoness had taken me to the top of, Alma suddenly ordered, "Look!" I opened my eyes and watched in a stupor as she released my member from her mouth and then stimulated it with her right hand as she held it so that the tip was just above the valley of her perfect bosom. Her hypnotic glowing eyes burned with authority as she demanded with an audible voice, "Go on then little boy. Show your dirty girl how much you need your toy! Show her! Go on! Show her! Show your dirty girl!"

I cried out loudly as she sent me flying over the edge. As she continued to milk what looked like every last drop out of me and onto the flawless, pale skin of her breasts, she continued with a teasing tone while her eyes glowing with amusement, "Oh…that's it. Come on...give your dirty girl all of it…that's it…good boy…aw, look you are still going…come on…*laugh*…aw, Michael you are such a good boy."

When the flow finally stopped, a seemingly impossible amount coated her chest with small drops rolling down the sides of the perfectly shaped mounds of flesh and also down the valley between them. As I tried to recover, I was horrified yet again when her delighted demeanor suddenly changed back into one of cold authority as she demanded with a calm tone, "Now clean me."

Terrified, I gave her a helpless puppy expression but she narrowed her eyes and then said with a firm and calm tone, "Michael, mommy taught you better than to not clean your toy when you are done playing with it. Go on then, use your tongue and clean your toy. Unless, of course, you don't want to ever be able to play with it again."

Resigned to what I had to do, I let out a soft whine as I moved in to remove the large amount of goo-like material from her body. However, she suddenly let out a loud giggle while a bright flash come over her body. Before my eyes, the fully-developed, nude adult became the blossoming young raven-haired girl in the red dress once again. Alma never lost the amused glow in her eyes as she re-situated my spent member and then zipped my pants back up before sitting in the seat next to me. My confusion only seemed to give her even more enjoyment as she pulled my much larger frame against hers as if I was the young boy that I was all those years ago.

As she held me, she remarked, "Aw, you're so cute Michael…but…don't agree to do that again…that would just be gross and weird."

I let out a tired snort before I replied, "Because everything we have done so far has been perfectly normal."

She giggled again for a moment. Then, she informed me in a serious manner, "Michael, I would never ask you to kill your friends nor would I force you to do so. I love you, Michael. I would never do something so horrible. I know you would do anything that I asked you to do but I never want to hurt you."

Relieved beyond measure, I could not help but smile slightly before I said as I looked into her eyes, "I love you too, Alma. Thank you for being so understanding."

She closed her eyes and smiled brightly before she replied, "Of course. Don't worry, I'll kill them. Especially the blonde whore who was flirting with you."

I felt my stomach drop again but I only managed to smile in an awkward manner. Nearly half an hour later, I finally entered Aristide's bedroom. Alma had been true to her word that she would take care of my team for me. After Stokes and I had entered the elevator, the raven-haired psychic had manifested in the main lobby and attacked them, liquefying their bodies with the raw edge of her anger and pain. I had convinced Stokes that the mission held priority and we continued towards Aristide's Penthouse.

After Stokes and I had been separated when she hacked a door control to allow me to move ahead, I had lost track of her and I could not contact her through my HUD's built-in comlink. I felt guilty for their deaths but, given the choice of Dark Signal or Alma, I would choose my other half every time. Besides, considering the nightmare that we had entered, Alma's relatively quick method of killing was far more merciful than anything that Armacham would have given them.

Judging by the intel that I had found while cutting through the pitiful excuse for mercenaries, Aristide had run afoul of the ATC Board of Directors. It seemed that her gross negligence had put ATC in a precarious situation in their Fairport area of operations. Thus, the Board of Directors had sent their Black Ops to eliminate her and all evidence of the inhumane projects and programs in Fairport.

Meanwhile, Alma, sensing the anguish that I had been suffering while I was fighting for my life in South America, had reached out to her youngest son. When she was finally able to locate him, she synchronized her mind with his. Under her direction, Fettel had taken control of the older generation of Replica soldiers and caused an uprising and, thus, starting the events that had led to the United States Army's Delta Force and F.E.A.R. to be sent to Fairport in an effort to quell the violence and restore order.

It struck me how rapidly the seemingly invincible corporation had fallen apart. Now, the corporation was turning on itself as all the major employees were either killed by the Replica, Alma, or Fettel. It was an unfortunate complication that Alma's first son, the legendary Special Forces Operative that had transferred to the F.E.A.R. Organization under the designation Point Man a mere week prior, was in Fairport as well. It seemed that a perfect storm had slammed into Armacham in Fairport and, now, there was absolutely nothing that they could do to stop it. Once I interrogated Aristide, I would fulfill the promise that I had given Alpha 1 all those years ago and lead the Variant VII Replica in an uprising against ATC.

It would not be easy because Armacham was still a powerful multi-national juggernaut with major political ties and near endless financial assists. We would be hunted by the world, but I had made my decision about which side of the war that I was going to fight on. I would always fight for Alma no matter the cost. The world always tried to keep us apart, but fate was always on our side.

As I looked around the disgustingly well-furnished bedroom, I noted the unmade bed and the security camera feeds that were visible on the flat screen television monitor directly across the room from the foot of the bed. The middle-aged woman must have had ample time to find a place to hide and, considering the corporate thugs that I had just killed downstairs, it was unlikely that she had left the upstairs area of her penthouse. Examining the large bookcase to the left of the flat screen television monitor, I growled in disgust as I saw the antique music box that had belonged to Alma's mother.

However, before I could act upon the impulse to tear the entire penthouse apart to find the woman that had dared to display the only thing that Alma had to remember her mother as if it was some kind of trophy, I sensed a presence behind me. I turned to see Stokes walking calmly up behind me. As she stopped beside me, she asked, "Any luck locating Aristide, Becket?"

Confused, I slowly shook my head in response. There was something wrong about Stokes but I could not put my finger on it. Her dirty blonde hair was tied up as per military regulation. Her face was weathered but still attractive while her fit body was partially displayed due to the short combat uniform that was considered risqué by military standards. However, I could not shake the feeling that there was something different about her. Then, it dawned on me. Her eyes were wrong. They were the right color but the look that she held within their warm pools was one that she had never had before.

Stokes was a stubborn and capable soldier but she was not as strong-willed as some. Granted, she had more willpower than the average Special Forces Operative, but, as I looked into her eyes, I saw a hardened resolve that was so intense that I had no doubt that even death was powerless against her. Shocked, I addressed her, "Alma…?"

The blonde soldier laughed and then replied, "I suppose I should not have expected this to work on you." She turned to face me and then did a little pose as she asked, "Still pretty good though, right?"

I said in response, "Yes. I didn't know that you could take on the appearance of someone else."

Alma explained, "I can while I am in my spectral form. When I am like this, I am essentially a living collection of concentrated energy so I can alter my appearance to be whatever I want. However, it is not perfect as you can see. In addition, no matter what appearance I take, I am always technically nude…even if it looks like I am wearing clothes."

I was dumbfounded by her revelation and its implications. However, Alma seemed to be amused by my reaction because she remarked, "Michael, I have told you many times that I absolutely abhor wearing underwear. Why would you think that other types of clothing would be any different? Besides…I only visibly parade nude in front of you. Even you thought I was wearing clothes so everybody is happy." I started to voice my jealously-caused displeasure of the fact that she was nude whenever she appeared before someone, but she interrupted me as she said, "Come now, we need to find this bitch."

Conceding, I nodded and then returned to investigating the bedroom for a possible clue as to where Aristide was hiding. My eyes kept returning to the music box on the bookshelf and I finally decided that it was worth inspecting. When I did, I jumped back when the bookshelf began to move. Seconds later, it was revealed to be the secret entrance to a kind of bunker hidden inside the wall. As I descended the stairs, the security door beyond the landing opened to reveal my unsuspecting target.

Aristide addressed us, "Sergeant Becket…oh thank God you made it. I saw what happened to your team. Now, you know what is at stake here. You are the only hope of stopping Alma…and you too Lieutenant Stokes."

She moved into the interior of the small control room beyond the metal door as she beckoned for us to follow her. Keeping calm, I slowly followed her as she led us to the monitors on the front wall. There, I saw what looked like live security feed of a location called "The Vault". I felt a hot spike of primal rage as I saw the bastard himself, Harlan Wade, on the monitors. However, my anger subsided seconds later as I saw the nude, emaciated form of Alma's body walk onto view. Harlan had released her? For what purpose? Guilt?

Meanwhile, Aristide remarked, "Oh my God, it's her! That stubborn son of a bitch probably just killed us all!"

I laughed darkly before I commented, "No, not everyone. Just the ones that fucking deserve to die."

Aristide turned around with a confused look on her face just in time to see the butt of my submachine gun's stock before it cracked her right between her eyes. She let out a strange little noise as her body hit the nearby control panel. The executive coughed up blood as she tried to get back on her feet. However, I scowled as I struck her in the side of her head with the butt of my weapon's stock. A wet crunch filled the air as my vicious blow cracked her skull open.

Towering over the barely conscious executive, I said with a dark tone, "I bet that you thought that you were God, huh bitch? Fit to ruin people's lives and treat them like rats because there was no one that was smarter or better than you."

She coughed blood as she said, "Please, sergeant, ha-have mer-mercy."

Something about her request stuck a cord inside of me. Intense hatred suddenly filled my being as I suddenly was able to vaguely recall that this monster had done something to me that was so inhumane and cruel that it was beyond being believable. What had she done to me?

Ignoring the throbbing inside my skull, I laughed in a sinister manner before I threw my submachine aside. Then, I drew my 9mm handgun from its holster on my right leg. Images began to play before my mind's eye as I aimed my sidearm at the woman's forehead. She cried in terror, "I…I swear it wasn't personal sergeant!"

Suddenly, I remembered Project Harbinger, the Origin Explosion, fighting for my life in Fairport, being raped in the Still Island Amplifier, and then the alliance that I had made with the homicidal, vengeful spirit that had been hunting me ever since my arrival in Fairport. My anger boiled over as I roared, "Bitch! I don't fucking care if it was personal or not!" Without hesitation, I fired a single round into the center of her forehead.

However, the sight of the beaten, blood-soaked corpse caused me to remember that Aristide had been dead for a long time. I dropped my sidearm as I cried out in agony. My skull felt as though it was on fire as I was able to recover my memories about Sparta, Akira, the nightmare that had descended upon the world, and everything else that had occurred in the time between Aristide's death and being in a deadlock while we waited for the reinforcements to arrive from the secured beachhead.

As the pain subsided, I became aware of the sound of giggling. Snapping back to being completely upright, I turned and then glared at the nude, healthy adult form of my wife. Putting up a strong front to hide my embarrassment for having fallen for her trick, I growled, "That is not funny!"

The look of amusement never left her hypnotic eyes when she replied with a taunting tone, "Oh Michael, you are simply too much fun."

I felt my face heating up in response to her teasing and I yelled, "I hate you! You're always manipulating me!"

The raven-haired woman smiled before replied with a suggestive tone, "Yes…I have been a bad little wife haven't I? I deserve to be punished don't I?" Irritated, I let out an angry grunt as I glared at the smiling psychic. She teased me in response, "Yeah, you're going to punish me aren't you? Is the big soldier going to punish the bad little girl?"

Advancing towards her a few steps, I yelled, "Shut up!"

Pretending to be deep in thought, Alma commented, "Then again, considering how you were so willing to tongue me when I was in my young form, maybe I have to be a child in order for you to get aroused…"

I shot back, "You tricked me! At least I actually was a child when you did the same to me!"

Ignoring me, she continued, "…or maybe it is that you cannot get it up unless you are being humiliated by your rapist?"

Shaking due to the amount of fury that I was feeling, I growled, "Shut up! I'm going to fucking kill you, you little bitch!"

Delighted by my reaction, Alma feigned fright as she ran up the stairs and back into the bedroom. I chased after her and quickly caught up to her before she could get very far. She had only managed to take three steps away from the bookcase before I roughly grabbed her by her left wrist with my gloved left hand. Pulling her back to me, I turned her around and then grabbed her by her neck with my gloved right hand.

She let out a delighted cry as I forced her over to the nearby bed and then held her down. Using my own psychic abilities, I dematerialized my Dark Signal attire and then thrust my already stiff member inside of her tight womanhood. It was not long before my initial anger subsided and my rapid pace slowed to a more appropriate speed. When I did, Alma asked while patches of red began to appear below her eyes, "Aw, what's the matter? Does it feel that good?"

I feigned irritation as I half-heartedly complained, "You're so tight…fuck you…being so tight."

My wife laughed in a goofy manner before she said, "You know I will always spoil you, Michael." Her light hearted demeanor then changed to one of downtrodden regret as she said apologetically, "I'm sorry I manipulated you."

I shifted my position so that I was sitting on the edge of the bed and she was straddling my waist. I then kissed her deeply as I gently raised and lowered her to continue my pace inside of her. She wrapped her arms around the back of my head and neck as she met my kiss. When we finally parted, I assured her, "It's okay. Why did you, though?"

She flashed an embarrassed smile and then explained, "You can't say that you haven't ever wondered what would have happened if you had been able to remember me when we first saw each other again on your mission to get Aristide. I wanted to find out. That's why I blocked some of your memories…otherwise…you wouldn't have acted like you would have if you thought that we had been reunited after you left. You were…different…back then."

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"

She gasped as I rubbed against her sensitive spot and I felt her heavily muscled insides tighten around me while a surge of wetness came from deep inside her. The incredible feeling pushed me over the edge and I joined her release as I filled her womb. When we were finished, she motioned for me to stand and then lied down on her abdomen while her legs went over the edge of the bed and her feet touched the floor.

As I reentered her filled womanhood from where I was standing behind her, she let a soft sigh before she explained, "It is nothing…bad. Just, back then, you loved me so shamelessly and innocently. I…you…I know you love me now…but…you have never looked at me the same way ever since the amplifier."

She was right. No matter how deeply I cared for her, I had never been able to completely trust her again. There was always a feeling of distance between us now as a result. I did not blame her anymore nor did I consciously hold it against her. However, there was never going back to the way that we had loved each other with such carefree innocence.

I said with a guilt-filled tone, "I'm sorry…I don't mean to do it."

Alma looked back behind her as best she could and then flashed me an appreciative smile before she assured me, "Don't be, it is not your fault. What I did ruined the innocent love that we had. If it had been anyone other than you, they would have never forgiven me, much less love me regardless and even marry me. I know I don't treat you right and can even be cruel to you sometimes but…that's only because I know that you are the only person that understands that I cannot help who I am and even loves me enough to play along with my madness when I go off on a tangent."

Once again, we had a mutual release. After riding out the waves of euphoria, we switched places so that I was on my back on the bed and she was above me. As she playfully took possession of my wet and still stiff member and then teasingly placed the tip against the entrance to her overflowing, blood-flushed womanhood, she taunted me, "You know, most men lose interest after the first time they finish. You, on the other hand, cannot seem to ever lose interest after the first time you finish."

I explained with an apologetic tone, "I'm sorry…it just feels so amazing. The more I fill you, the more amazing it feels and the hungrier I get."

Alma snickered as she lowered herself down onto my length. Then, as she set the pace, she commented, "You're so weird, Michael."

As I teased the two perfect mounds of her bosom with my hands, I retorted, "Says the woman that is always nude even when it looks like she is wearing clothes."

My wife shook her head as she rotated around my member until she was able to lower herself down so that her back was resting on my torso. With our noses inches away from each other, my hands holding her right breast and well-toned abdomen, I set the pace again while we returned each others gaze. Though her face was flushed with a dark shade of red, Alma never lost her calm tone as she said, "Don't be so jealous, Michael. You know, jealously is never an attractive trait. Besides, wouldn't it make you feel better if everyone got to see what you have and what they can never get to experience?"

I replied, "No…not really. I know how special you are and how lucky I am…but…I don't feel the need to brag about it. Besides, how would you feel if I walked around nude in front of Stokes?"

Alma was silent for a moment as she thought to herself. Then, she conceded, "I see your point. However, I really cannot wear any clothes since I don't have a body."

I smiled and then said, "It will just be our secret then."

She giggled and then replied, "Okay." At that moment, we both climaxed together for a third time. Holding each other as close as possible and kissing each other, we waited for the surge of euphoria to subside. When it finally did, Alma remarked, "We need to stop. That is five times for you since this little experiment started."

I protested, "I can keep going."

My wife smiled and then said, "I know you can, but any more and you will be too exhausted to fight." Then, she advised me with a dead serious tone, "Don't let what is happening around you consume you again. Michael, we have been through rough times before and we have always gotten through them…together. Don't ever wall yourself off like that again. Unless…of course…you want to do something like this again."

I kissed her quickly before I assured her, "I won't...I promise. I love you, Alma."

She immediately replied, "I love you too, Michael."

A flash overwhelmed my vision and when I was able to see again, I found myself back in the underground Command Post. As I looked around, one of the Replica commented, "Ah, you're awake, sir. You seemed a bit out of it so we decided to let you sleep. You never cease to amaze, sir. I wish I could sleep in a place like this."

I replied, "Trust me, you don't."

At that moment, Alpha 1 entered the room and then informed me with his deep disguised voice, "The reinforcements have arrived."

Standing, I retrieved my Patten Assault Rifle from my back and then remarked, "About fucking time! Come on, everyone! Let's rock this circus forward!" When I emerged from the underground CP, I saw that the enthusiasm had returned to the walking corpses that had been in the trench mere hours earlier. On the bridge, I saw the King Kong EPA units that were being followed by seemingly endless train of EPA's, main battle tanks, APC's, and cargo trucks that stretched as far back as the eye could see.

I climbed over the front wall of the trench and then began to charge towards the enemy line as I yelled at the soldiers that were already following close behind me, "Follow me!" A thunderous roar filled the air as the revitalized soldiers let out a war cry. Ignoring the incoming artillery fire and running through the enemy fire, I led the charge that would either end in the salvation of not only mankind but also the entire world or in the extinction of every living thing on Earth.