I keep getting PM's asking for blood and tank shit so here you go ya goddamn' heathens.


Oh, the Places You'll Go!

"I come in peace, I didn't bring artillery. But I am pleading with you with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all."

Marine General James Mattis, to Iraqi tribal leaders

TWO MONTHS AFTER THE INVASION, 1200 HOURS TOKYO JAPAN, MOUTH OF THE "GATE"

In the heart of Ginza and at the front of the gate sat a massive column of American and Japanese military forces. Two months was all it took for the "Special Region Coalition" to be formed and for the legalities to be ratified. Officially, this was a U.S. military-led operation, but everyone knew that a MEU reinforcing two JSDF divisions was anything but American-led, American advised more like it. This was all endstate, however. For now, a small slapped-together strike force of Marine and Japanese armor with various support units would be the first ones going in.

The city of Tokyo was too cramped to just cram everything at once and many citizens were already irate at the increased military presence.

At the very front of the "gate" and spearheading the massive column, four tan M1A1 Abrams tanks of Headquarters Platoon Charlie Company sat with their guns elevated over their fronts. Displayed on each gun tube was a name carefully selected by the crews who operated the vehicles. A tank's name was its soul and each name held a sentimental value. Rapida Dos!, Belligerent Three, Big Boss, and finally, Here We Go Again.

All of the crews sat on the tanks and gave Aldritch their undivided attention as the platoon commander paced between the vehicles. He pointed at each one of his men as he continued his speech, hoping he could motivate them and himself at the same time.

"Two months ago I stood in front of all of you and ordered the unthinkable. Deployment, but not just any deployment, no." The middle-aged officer pointed at the gate. "The sort of stuff you'd read in a science fiction novel or watch in some movie."

Aldritch stopped his pacing and stood at the center of the tanks and took his eight-point cover off. He ran a calloused hand over his military regulation haircut and scratched his freshly groomed scalp a few times. The few strands of gray hair that floated down reminded Aldritch that he was getting older and the captain quietly lamented over the impact years of stressful service had on his body. Normal men didn't start having graying hair at the ripe old age of 30. All the same, the man was a natural leader and although his time in Second Tank Battalion had been short thus far, his Marines respected him all the same. Even if he was known for giving wordy speeches.

"In a few hours, you will be the first Marines to ever deploy to another world, fight an enemy that was stupid enough to bite off more than they could chew."

The Captain returned his cover and let his hands rest on the shoulder straps of his plate carrier. "At this point, I can't say anything I haven't already said before. You heard the Commandant, we're at the forefront of history gentlemen. They're going to be making documentaries out of this for years to come. History books will share our experiences, and for that, I'm goddamn proud of all of you."

By now most of the enlisted had taken out cigarettes and the air above Aldritch had grown thick with the smell of burning tobacco and smoke. Ordinarily, Aldritch would've berated them for it, but he needed his men calm for the task ahead.

"Our MOS is going away and the mission of the Corps is changing. In a few years, probably less, we won't exist anymore. We'll be relics of a combat role that supported Marines from the shores of the World War Two Pacific islands to the sands of the modern-day Middle East." Aldritch nodded his head approvingly. "So how fitting it is that our swan song is in a different world. A ragtag group of tankers answering our nation's call once more."

Aldritch slowly turned. "I don't know what's beyond that gate, I don't know what hardships we'll face. I only ask this of you, take care of each other there. Stick to your tanks and stick to your crews. Remember your training and remember our rules and regulations. For some of you, this is your first deployment and for others, this isn't your first song and dance. I expect you to lead and teach just as hard as I will." Aldritch nodded his head affirmingly. "From here on, we're all that we got."

His message delivered, Aldritch clapped his hands. "Gentlemen that's all I got. Hicks, you got anything to add?"

Aldritch looked over and up at the now thoroughly pleased Hicks. The sergeant was dangling his legs over the side of his tank and cradling his newly issued shotgun. The Master Gunner shrugged and let the slide go forward on his weapon with a smooth *clack*.

"Nope, you hit all the wickets, sir. You got me all hard and motivated, dunno about the rest of ya'll."

Nervous laughter broke out among the Marines and even Aldritch couldn't help but stifle a smirk.

"Noted Sergeant, I appreciate that. TC's* follow me the rest of you get your things in order. Say a prayer and steel yourselves, cause gentlemen? We're going in and we're gonna get some goddamn answers."

"Hold it!"

Aldritch gave pause as another one of the Marines made his way over from the nearby recovery vehicle. Sergeant Bowers, yet another slightly rotund countryman and recently attached to Charlie from one of the other companies. As one of the mechanics, the head mechanic, his word carried just as much weight as Aldritch or Hicks. Bowers rubbed a thick caterpillar-like mustache and spit into a dirty dip-filled plastic bottle. "I got somethin' ta say."

"Yes Sergeant Bowers?" Aldritch responded inquisitively.

The lead mechanic waggled his mustache and gave a small belch. "Don't fucking break anything and save some for the 88. I ain't gonna drag my ass over here and not see some action."

"Copy that, we'll see what we can do." Aldritch simply shrugged and gave a thumbs up. "You heard him, boys, don't break anything!"

All of the Marines let out a loud "Errr!" as they prepared their war machines for the mission ahead.

XXXXXX

Sometime Later

Kincaid took another long drag and blew out an equally long cloud of smoke from atop the front slope of his tank. In his other gloved hand, he slowly sloshed around a half-empty can of energy drink. The combination of caffeine, nicotine, and the mounting anxiety was playing hell on the tired Marine's psyche. Behind Kincaid and recessed into the driver's station a nervous Benitez continued to examine the large structure in front of them. Behind the Marines and towards the back of the convoy, a distant voice echoed in Japanese over loudspeakers. The Prime Minister still wasn't done talking to his troops.

"So, let me see if I get this straight."

"Send it." Kincaid responded with the slightest hint of melancholy as he propped an arm up and let his chin rest in the palm of his smoking hand.

Benitez lit a cigarette of his own and puffed on it a few times before continuing. "Gate opens, bad shit happens but we beat them back and cordon the area off."

"Right."

"So, rather than I dunno, destroy the damn thing and be done with it. We decided 'Oh! Let's just go right the hell on in! So they grab a hodgepodge company of beat-up tankers, most of which are about to get out and throw em on tank tanks.

"Yep, seems to be the case." Kincaid responded matter-of-factly. "You described our situation flawlessly." The gunner reached over to his left and nudged a comm helmet over to the driver's station. Stenciled into the comm helmet's dark green shell was the name Little John in black military-style lettering.

"C'mon ese, you know this is stupid! They haphazardly grab some guys, throw em in tanks that ain't even ours and then march us on into god knows where!?" Benitez shook his head and brought the helmet into his station. "Man when I said I wanted to deploy this isn't what I meant!"

"Implying any deployment is better." Kincaid finished his drink and set the empty can down atop the front slope. "This is the hand we were dealt, best to just live with it."

"You sound awfully calm for someone who was about to get out in a month or so." Benitez let the cigarette hang from his mouth and leaned back into his seat. "Would be nice if you could at least bitch along with me or something."

"Bro, we're all feeling the same goddamn thing." Kincaid sighed and looked back at his driver with a raised eyebrow. "You heard the Captain, there's nothing we can do. We're here now, that's that. As for my EAS*, well I can go fuck myself I guess."

"It's just…" Benitez frowned and lowered his voice. "Man this is, this is too much. All of this doesn't make any sense."

"It never does man." Kincaid pushed himself up the front slope and towards the side of the driver's station. The gunner leaned the back of his plate carrier against the front of the turret and brought his knees up to his chest. "You scared?"

"Yeah, yeah I am man." Benitez responded solemnly.

"Ain't nothing to be ashamed about man. A couple of years ago I was in your same position when I was in Afghanistan. Scared shitless, thought every goddamn pothole was gonna be an IED* or something."

Benitez finished his cigarette and looked around before chucking the butt down the front slope. "How'd you handle it?"

"Same way I'm gonna tell you to handle it. Just do your job, drive." Kincaid continued to stare at the entrance to the gate as old painful memories returned. "Listen to us, keep your head down and we'll get you through this."

"Promise?"

"Promise-" Kincaid paused as a pair of steel-toed combat boots dangled over the front of the turret and came dangerously close to the side of his head. He gave one of the boots a push. "Right jackass?"

"Of course!" From atop the tank, Wilkes rolled his eyes and blew some smoke out of his nose from a recently lit cigarette. "So long as he runs something over."

The smell of freshly lit tobacco tempted Kincaid into lighting another one and as the gunner contemplated this decision, he subconsciously began to fumble with his vest's pouches. "You get everything hashed out? Radios n' shit?"

"Yeah, ammo's good to go too. I already got radio checks and your station's sorted."

"Fucking stellar." Kincaid responded flatly as he fumbled into the pouches for his vest and pulled out his cigarettes and a jet black zippo. He had lost the internal debate. The gunner clacked his zippo open, lit one of the cigarettes, and took a few puffs before gesturing towards the gate. "I know I asked earlier, but what's your take on all this?"

Wilkes merely shrugged. "Man I don't even give a shit. Deployment pay better be fuckin' good though. We get through this and I'm buying a new car."

"Yeah, I might buy a new gun or something. I dunno, maybe we'll get to visit Tokyo properly before we leave or something." Kincaid smiled flatly. "Could get some sweet merch at Akihabara."

"More weeb shit, woohoo." Wilkes scoffed and sarcastically spun a finger in the air. "How about the food? The booze? The women, you know, the real ones?"

"Expensive, but pretty damn good. Women here like foreigners last I heard from my boy in Okinawa." Kincaid blew out another cloud of smoke. "Hey, maybe you can tell em' you went through the gate. Sure, that'll get em' moist."

"Fuck yeah, get a cute little Asian honey or something." Wilkes smiled mischievously. "Yeah, maybe this shit won't be too bad. We just gotta stomp these fucking dirt sniffing cavemen."

Kincaid nodded in agreement. "Well, provided whatever is on the other side isn't too wild. Don't get yourself too excited or you won't want to go through at all."

Wilkes was going to retort, but the sight of an irritated Elton coming over to the front of the tank gave him pause. Like the rest of his crew, Elton was garbed in newly issued woodland FROGs and a plate carrier. However, in place of his Boonie cover he had chosen his old jet black deployment beanie.

Benitez poked his head out of his hatch and raised an eyebrow at the tank commander. "You look pissed."

"Nah really? What clued you in?" Elton rolled up a laminated map and adjusted the sling for his newly issued Remington 870. All of the other tank commanders and various other Marines within the MEU* had also been issued the same venerable combat shotgun. Smart thinking given the type of enemy they'd likely face. Elton tapped the front slope with the map a couple of times. "So take a wild guess what we're going to do?"

Kincaid finished his cigarette and flicked the butt off the side of the tank. The whole area would likely look like an ashbin by the time the Marines cleared out. "Charge through, set up a defensive line, and then make a FOB."

"Oh excuse me, I didn't know you were at the fucking brief." Elton grunted as he clambered up the front slope and onto the top of the turret.

"Am I wrong? It's not rocket science."

"Nope, that's exactly what we're doing." Elton responded from next to his TC's cupola as he busied himself with a comm helmet labeled Honcho. "So you understand why I'm pissed?"

Wilkes folded his arms and curled his lips. "I thought we had recon bubbas go in first? What's the big deal?"

"That was a few days ago, remember?" Kincaid chimed in. "Shit can change pretty fast, not like the bad guys don't know we're coming."

"Well, that explains why we're in front of the Japs."

"No screaming eagle shit." Elton threw some gear into one of the side sponson boxes and closed the lid down with his boot. He racked the slide for his shotgun and ensured a round was chambered before setting the weapon down next to his cupola. "You think they're gonna let their green ass troops spearhead an assault? More importantly, you think the brass isn't gonna ham the fuck out of us charging headfirst into the unknown?"

"No, but I'd think the Japanese would be angry enough to want first blood." Kincaid retorted as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Whatever, tanks ready to go."

"And it looks like we are too.."

As if on cue Aldritch came running back towards with waving arms. "Everybody mount up! I want radio checks ASAP!"

That was all that needed to be said. Like ants around an anthill, tankers immediately began scrambling up their respective vehicles and down into their hatches.

Kincaid grumbled as he clambered up the tank and over to the loader's hatch. With cracking knees and sore limbs, the tired gunner started the painful process of lowering himself down into the tank. He had only made it halfway through when a voice called out to him from one of the other tanks.

"Hey, Kincaid! Remember when you said you wanted to go visit Japan?!" Kincaid looked over at the tank behind him and at a smiling Hicks. The Sergeant and his crew were already mounted and fully geared up. Hicks stuck his tongue out and gave a sadistic smile. "Remember that fucker?! That's what happens when you don't knock on wood first, fucking weeb!"

"Hey who says we can't get a little libo huh?! You let my tank go in front of yours and we'll wrap this up in no time 'Master Gunner'!"

"Sure, show me what you mister new gunner!" The Sergeant laughed and muttered into his comm helmet's boom mic before flashing some devil horns. If anyone was unphased by all this it was him. Hicks was always looking for a fight in Afghanistan and it appeared this time wasn't any different.

Kincaid gave the outside world one last look and savored the fresh air. It would likely be some time before he got to see it again.

"Alright….here we go."

Resigning himself to his fate Kincaid lowered himself down the hatch and into the cramped crew compartment. Home sweet home, dirt and pinup posters included. Towards the right of the massive gun breech sat the further cramped gunner's station. Even with the modifications to the worn leather seat back, it was nothing short of a pain in the ass for a tall Marine like Kincaid to squeeze into. Atop Kincaid's seat lay a comm helmet with some Japanese Kanji on it and a poorly drawn emoji face with a twisted smile. It was the same helmet he wore in Afghanistan. Well, the same comm helmet shell anyways. Kincaid slowly contorted around various instrument panels and squeezed into the gunner's station, grimacing as the lack of space pushed his long legs back towards him and under the gunner's controls.

Kincaid donned his helmet and reached behind him into the equally cramped TC's station just as Elton and Wilke's legs came in through their respective hatches. Both Marines had the benefit of open hatches they could easily stand up in and get fresh air. Logically speaking, this also meant they were most at risk to take one between the eyes. Kincaid looked down towards the driver's station and yelled.

"Benitez, you good?!"

"Yeah man good to go!"

A clank towards the front of the tank indicated that the crew's driver had indeed buttoned up. With Benitez clear of the gun, Kincaid was free to depress a button-up top. A loud whine filled the turret as hydraulics came to life and various instrument panels bathed the interior in a multitude of colors. With power on Kincaid leaned back into his gunner's seat and stared at his instrument panels as the radio net was filled with chatter.

"All tanks, this is one actual. Radio check."

"One this is two, Lima Charlie."

"One this is three, Lima Charlie."

"One this is four, Lima charlie~!"

"Copy that. Mike 88 you good to go?"

"Rog on that!"

"Roger, all vehicles you are cleared to go REDCON One*."

Kincaid kicked his leg against a metal grate separating the driver's compartment from the rest of the tank. "Yo, fire in the hole."

"Copy that, fire in the hole!"

Benitez reached down to his right and depressed a small black button labeled "Push to Start", this was when the beast fully came to life. A sound that began as a low hum steadily increased in pitch as the tank's turbine engine began to power up. Instrument panels blinked several times and increased in brightness as more power was fed to them.

Elton kicked the back of Kincaid's seat. "Hey, bring the gun down and uh keep your head in the fucking bioc alright?"

"Yeah, I got you."

Without looking away from his still blacked-out sight, Kincaid flipped a series of levers on his gunner's instrument panel and opened the armored doors for the tank's thermal sights atop the tank.

From atop the tank, Elton watched in reassurance as the tank's gun depressed and came level with the entrance of the gate. "Thermals still good?"

Kincaid kept his eyes through the sight and watched as the varying shades of green revealed the entrance of the gate. "Yep, crisp and clear."

By now the hum within the vehicle had turned into a high-pitched squeal and with it the engine idled at full power. Hot air was violently pushed out of the back of the tanks as they sat ready for the gate to open.

Inside his tank, Kincaid reached into the front pocket of his plate carrier and produced a small photograph. It was an old photo that was taken years ago during a deployment he'd rather forget. Four Marines sat on the front slope of an Abrams in Afghanistan. Three of those Marines were still alive. One was not.

Elton had been squatting down in his station flipping a few switches when he saw the photo. "He'd be proud you know. He taught you well brother, I know you'll get the job done." Elton gave Kincaid's back a series of pats. "We won't live through that again."

"No, no we won't."

Kincaid sighed and put the photo next to his instrument panel. "Wilkes you good up there?"

"What do you think nigga?" Atop the tank and next to Elton Wilkes wordlessly dragged the belt for his mounted 240b across the weapon's hungry feed tray. Atop his helmet was stenciled the name Rampage, a name aptly given considering his tendencies. Wilkes slapped the cover down and racked the weapon's charging handle with conviction before keying his comm helmet back. Ahead of him, the gate was slowly starting to open, revealing a dark endless abyss beyond.

"I dunno, that's why I'm asking."

"Feelin' fine g, feelin' fine. You good down there?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm good. Could use a soda or something."

"Shit, I got you when the killing starts."

Ordinarily, this would be where some nervous laughter would break out as someone tried to break the tension with a joke or a witty remark. Sure it was all motivation and reassurance before, but seeing that darkness unnerved most of the tankers. Small neon pulses in the void beyond indicated that some brave souls had set up a sort of safe lane for everyone to follow. How convenient too, the lane was big enough for a column to drive through.

The net was quiet both across the tanks and within the crews. Each man came to terms with his own affairs and mouthed a silent prayer to whatever god they worshipped. Praying they'd return to loved ones.

Then, the order came from Aldritch came. "All tanks, push. Maintain dispersion and stay in the lane. I want gun tubes down and heads on swivels gentlemen. TCs and loaders keep your heads out. May God help us all."

All of the tank commanders rogered up as tank gearboxes shifted into drive, their engines whining in unison as they slowly propelled the tanks forward and into the tunnel. TC's and loaders clutched their weapons with white knuckles as they aimed into the darkness, ready for anything and everything that came their way.

So, they left, and from around the world, families watched as their loved ones were just gobbled up by the darkness. The last deployment of the Marine tankers.

As the last of the tanks disappeared into the darkness they each turned their headlights on and basked the area in a dull yellow glow. This was when the rest of the convoy followed behind and journeyed into the unknown.

Thus the Special Region Coalition traveled there.

XXXXXX

Towards the rear of the convoy, Itami looked down at his Type 64 rifle and clutched it just as the darkness washed over the back of the Toyota's troop bay. This day had come just as he knew it would months ago. From the time he had received the call to the moment he had geared up with the rest of the Self Defense Force, Itami had been on autopilot. Everything had happened so fast, and in truth, Itami was still trying to assure himself this was all a bad dream.

What sane-minded Self Defense Force soldier entertained the notion of a combat deployment. Sure they trained for it while politicians talked their big talk, but that's all it ever was, talk. Saber rattle at the Chinese or the Russians and call it a day. Unfortunately, the new enemy was neither, and they had dared to indiscriminately destroy a large portion of Tokyo. For the first time in years, the Japanese people were largely undecided on whether or not they wanted involvement at all. Not that it mattered to the politicians. No, they had already made up their minds. Which meant it was Itami's problem.

To make matters worse Itami's actions at the palace had earned the spotlight from several news media outlets and the brass. Photos of him in blood-stained clothes fighting off evil monsters were all over the news. They had turned him into their propaganda savior, the "Hero of Ginza" they called him. Itami was no hero; he was just a confused man that wanted to enjoy his hobbies in an equally confusing line of work that wouldn't let him.

Now here he was heading off into the unknown to "find answers" and help "bring justice and peace". The officer shook his head and sighed just thinking about it.

A small part of him wished he could find the convictions his fellow soldiers had. Many of them had lost loved ones in the attack. To them, this was personal, and more than once Itami had seen some disturbingly aggressive behavior from his typically quiet comrades.

"Just what sort of influence will the Marines have on them? Have on me? Will I become angry too, is this what the Americans experienced during that terrible terrorist attack?"

As the journey through the darkness continued Itami lost himself in his thoughts. Things had been relatively quiet so far save for the continuous rumble of various engines. It was dark and the only light offered came from the vehicles and the guide lights set up at frequent intervals.

"A journey to hell itself perhaps? Risa….will you miss me?"

"Hey, look. The Marines are upfront so we'll be okay right? Right, Itami?!"

Itami's train of thought was interrupted as one of his newly assigned subordinates and old friend, Sergeant Takeo Kurata, called out to him. The newly-promoted sergeant adjusted the Flecktarn cover for his helmet and gave a shaky thumbs up. "They sent Marines with us, they know war, so we just stay next to them. Easy peasy."

"Yeah, yeah we'll be okay Kurata." Itami nodded. "We have tanks, they have tanks. Remember your training and we'll be okay. We beat the enemy back before you know and we can do it again."

"Yosh! Yeah, I thought so." Kurata chuckled nervously. "Hey, you know maybe we'll see some catgirls or something? Maybe an elf or two? I mean, it's a fantasy world so anything could go?"

Itami smiled, even in uncertain times it was important to try and cling to something familiar. "Hey, now there's positive thinking. You might be right, a whole world to explore?" Itami leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, we clear things up and who knows what we'll find."

"Yeah or we'll fight some sort of demonic god Kurata, ever think of that? Maybe the gate will close and we'll be stuck here forever. Did your silly manga ever show you anything like that?"

Across from the two self-proclaimed Otaku, the heavily built Sergeant First Class Akira Tomita glared from under his helmet as a nearby light post illuminated him. A no-nonsense type of soldier and another subordinate of Itami's. The NCO* scoffed and continued checking his gear. "Focus on surviving first then maybe you can entertain those silly notions."

Kurata scowled but otherwise ignored the jab. "Say, Tomita. Tell me something, you were one of the lucky few that deployed to Iraq right? You have anything to share, you know? Helpful pointers?"

"Yes, 24/7 vigilance. Complacency kills." Tomita did another check of his gear and fastened the optic for his type 89 Carbine. He was one of the lucky few to get issued such a modern weapon. "Don't call me lucky either, we didn't see any action over there. I'm just as blind here as you are."

"Well we'll be relying on your insight all the same-" Itami paused as the convoy suddenly jerked to a halt. Itami and some of the other soldiers in the truck nervously looked around.

"Hey, what's going on, why did we stop?" Kurata craned his head next to one of the windows in an attempt to look ahead of the convoy. "Is something wrong? Are we stuck?!"

"No, we're not stuck." Kurata flipped the safety off for his carbine. "Our 'friends' have likely met with the enemy, we'll be joining them soon."

Itami had been sitting in such a way that he could easily stick his head into the driver's compartment of the vehicle. He reached towards a radio station mounted between two soldiers upfront and flipped a few knobs in an attempt to find whatever radio channel everyone was on.

Eventually, he found the station he was looking for and although his English wasn't the best, he could make out the gist of what was going on.

"Palace this is Horsemen One we have eyes on the mouth of the gate and what looks to be a small fortified position. Multiple infantry supported by light siege engines and inhuman auxiliary. Looks like a welcome mat, over."

"Copy that Horsemen One. You have the green light to engage, push through the position and try to form a base of fire. Keep us updated, we can't send the rest of our forces through until we have a clearer idea of the enemy's concentration."

"Roger, killing lights and engaging now. Horsemen One, out."


SPECIAL REGION ALNUS HILL ? HOURS

"E-Eyes! Eyes in the darkness! Do you see them!?"

"I do, messenger alert the encampments beyond on the double!"

"Aye m'lord!"

The terrified call from one of the sentries awoke the makeshift encampment. Soldiers quickly manned their posts behind tall wooden barriers and sharpened logs. Men mounted siege engines and war trolls bellowed their war cries in defiance for whatever battle was ahead.

For months they had sat and prepared for whatever had thwarted their army beyond the gate. What few bloodied survivors returned told horror stories of steel demons belching fire and infantry that could fell forces double their size.

Messengers frantically returned to the Capital and other kingdoms begging for any reinforcements. Though their pleas didn't go unanswered nobody could truly believe such terrifying reports.

This was not the first time a mighty foe had stood defiant against the Empire and the generals believed it was not the last time such a foe would be bested either.

As the men awoke from their sleep rotations they squinted into the darkness beyond with tired eyes, hoping that the report had just been the night playing tricks on them.

It wasn't, they could all see the four golden orbs shining from within the gate. Men gripped their weapons tightly and prayed to the gods for deliverance. Surely the defense would hold and the messenger on horseback would be able to muster the full might of the temporary garrison behind. Better still, the sun would be up soon. They had to hold the line just long enough.

Then, the orbs disappeared and silence returned once more. The men nervously looked at each other and at their lieutenant for answers. From behind the men, their leader dismounted from his warhorse and planted a great halberd into the ground. His voice echoed from within his armor as he took control of the situation.

"It would seem to be a trick of the mind! Be calm of mind and spirit men and let not such trickery fool you-"

The officer never got to finish his sentence as the air was filled with the sharp snap and crackle of red, something. Both the officer and anyone unfortunate enough to not be low to the ground were torn to shreds as the sparks violently punched through them.

Nobody was safe including the ballista crews. One brave crew had blindly fired into the darkness only to scream in terror as the projectile harmlessly bounced off one of the tan horrors that had started to emerge from within.

The air was filled with a shriek comparable to that of the mythical banshees as the two steel horrors barreled down upon the makeshift defense. Behind them, their companions quickly emerged from the darkness eager to join in the killing.

One of the trolls that wasn't given the luxury of dying to the sparks attempted to close with the enemy. It bellowed a vengeful cry in remembrance of its fallen comrade as it swung its mighty axe at one of the horrors. A futile effort, its strength simply wasn't enough and the beast was quickly toppled over and crushed beneath grinding metal. All that remained of it was a red mass of mud and gore being kicked out the back.

This broke the will of the survivors and now a full retreat was in effect. The soldiers dropped their weapons and scurried down the steep hill behind the encampment just as the steel horrors effortlessly barreled through their flimsy defenses. Men that weren't crushed like the orc tumbled down the hill behind the encampment. They tripped over themselves and gave one last scream at the garrison as the horrors overcame them.

"FLEE! THE DEMONS ARE HERE! THE DEMONS ARE HERE!"

Thus the Battle of Alnus Hill was fought there and the world beyond forever changed.


Some of you have asked if tanks are actually going away. Yes, I'm not sure what units are still around, but last I checked Second Tank Battalion is completely gone. The CP even removed the two inert tanks in the front yard. First and Fourth Tanks are probably gone too.

Times are changing and the Commandant feels we need to go back to our amphibious roots. This means lighter, faster and more emphasis on island fighting in the Pacific. Maybe he forgot Chinese Marines have armor too, but eh I'm no tactician. I think the Corps will bring tanks back though. This isn't the first nor the last time the Corps has made and reverted a major decision.

Anyways, the next chapter is already being worked on. To my GFL readers I'll have an announcement to make on Ever Onward (what few give a shit lol) soon. Miiiight have to redo that one too and if I do it's gonna be after HWGA is done.

Anyways, ya'll be safe and keep your heads up. I've got a Tavor to go take to the range.


TERMS/ACROYMS USED:

MEU: Marine Expeditionary Unit

EAS: End of Active Service. The day you end active duty, you're still on reserve for a while after though. So technically Kincaid could've been reactivated if they wanted to bring his ass back.

IED: Ya'll should know this one by now, but eh. Improvised Explosive Device. Homemade explosives essentially.

TC: Tank Commander.

REDCON One: Readiness Condition One. Basically, get ready to roll out and conduct operations.

NCO: Non-Comissioned Officer. Sergeants and Corporals fall under this, can change from branch to branch.