I'm the worst procrastinator. Also, I'm sure I'm going to regret this, but eh why not. We (my editors and myself) are going to be opening a discord soon. Much as I really don't like the source material Gate has its special place. I mean, it got me to start writing (shoutout to Blueway as well) and the journey of Here We Go Again has been a fond one. The subreddit is kinda crumbling and the community is slowly starting to die.

We don't have to let it be this way. The discord is gonna be pretty open to all sorts of stuff, not just HWGA oriented. No echo chambers here, fuck that noise. Anyways, I'll be editing this chapter later with the link so stay tuned.

Anyways BACK AT IT


Here To Stay

"The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps!"

Eleanor Roosevelt

1500 HOURS SPECIAL REGION TIME, OUTSKIRTS OF CAMP ALNUS, CHECKPOINT TWO

No matter where Marines found themselves fighting, there would always be those unlucky units stuck at checkpoints; standing behind vehicles and hastily erected barbed wire fences, bored out of their minds and stuck in the heat as they waited for their relief. Exactly the sort of situation the Marines and sailors of Alpha Company 1st Platoon found themselves in.

"Just how much of a stink did those tankers raise?"

Distracted by the constant rumbling of vehicle convoys Lieutenant William Van Hauser lowered his portable gaming device and peered over the dashboard of his MAT-V. Coalition vehicles grumbled past the makeshift checkpoint Vanhauser's platoon had set up.

"Word on the grapevine is that they killed some giant ass dragon."

Next to the open door of his vehicle, Van Hauser's platoon sergeant, Sergeant Boyd, tapped away at the side of the truck with a gloved hand.

Boyd had been Van Hauser's right-hand man for as long as he could remember. The bulldog-faced black sergeant was as dependable as he was tenacious. Van Hauser may have been the brains of the platoon but Boyd was the heart, and in this foreign world, Van Hauser was exceptionally glad to have his assistance.

"Quite the ass-kickin'."

"No bull scheisse?" The officer paused his game, powered down the device, and slid it into his assault pack above the center console. "Well, might as well check on the squads. Need to stretch my legs too."

"Want me to catch you sir? " Boyd chuckled. "Wouldn't want to bust your ass again like yesterday."

"Hah hah, very funny." Van Hauser responded sarcastically as he reached for the M4 he had been cradling across his lap. The officer shut the music off from a nearby Bluetooth speaker then, with great care, started the arduous process of disembarking from the massive armored truck.

"Why did we even bring these stupid things? Not like the bad guys have IEDs or mines." Van Hauser grit his teeth and dropped down onto the grass, his boots impacting the soft terrain with a thud.

"Last minute logistical bullshit, you know the song and dance sir." Boyd shrugged at his superior's statement. "Hey, at least they have working AC and charging ports. I'll take that over a humvee any day."

Boyd chuckled. "Or you could go ask the Japanese down at checkpoint three, sure they'd love to trade for their stuff."

"No, I'd rather not." Van Hauser sighed and plucked his combat sunglasses off from the front of his vest. Upon donning them, he pointed at the mixed group of trucks arranged around the t-shaped crossroads they had set up around. "Humvees, MRAPs, MAT-Vs, what a mess."

The officer paused at the sound of rotors overhead and looked up at the source of the noise. Cobra Vipers flew by as they provided armed escort for a pair of Japanese Hueys. Van Hauser waved back at one of the Japanese crew chiefs. "And now helicopters! Well, looks like we're all set up!" Van Hauser yelled out enthusiastically. "Looks like we're not going anywhere anytime soon. So much for a quick deployment."

Boyd's mouth went agape at the sight. "Shiiet, Sea Bees* putting in that overtime."

Van Hauser reached for his chest-mounted radio and his headset's boom mic. "All squads, this is Actual, status report."

"First Squad here, nothing to report at this time."

"Copy, second squad?"

"Negative, nothing but birds and clear weather, over."

"Copy that, third?"

"Bingo on contact-wait a moment."

Van Hauser and Boyd looked down the road third squad was occupying. They could see Marines running to and from their vehicles, pointing at something their superiors couldn't see.

"Third squad? Everything good?"

"Negative on that we have eyes on what looks like some sort of caravan. Three-no, 10 individuals, and a couple on horseback. All military-aged men."

"Armed?"

"That's an affirm, the usual stuff."

"Copy, I'm heading over there now. Actual out." Van Hauser keyed out and did a quick brass check on his M4. "Looks like we have company, want to go check it out?"

"Probably just more refugees, third can handle it." Boyd raised an eyebrow. "Unless you're-"

"-Bored? Ja mein intrepid platoon sergeant. All this sitting around has gotten boring."

"Well then, after you sir." Boyd chuckled in response.

Perhaps today wouldn't be so boring after all.


CODA VILLAGE

Aldritch brought his binoculars up and surveyed the situation. Here We Go Again had just started creeping up to the front of the dragon's motionless body and Belligerent Three was maintaining its distance off to the side.

Meanwhile, Aldritch's tank and Rapida Dos provided overwatch from the rear, ever vigilant for signs anyone or anything wanted to throw down. Now all the platoon had to do was wait for reinforcements to lock down the area.

Clancy instinctively aimed his 240 at the massive corpse and whistled. "Holy shit sir, sum' bitch is even bigger up close."

"An astute observation, Clancy, anything else you'd like to add?" Aldritch said with no effort to hide his amusement at the statement.

"Yeah actually, about two." Clancy turned to his left. "On horseback to our immediate 9 o'clock."

Aldritch grimaced. "Locals? Dammit, I thought I told RCT to handle that."

"Looks like it sir, old man, and a girl." Clancy oriented his weapon in the direction of the newcomers but kept his barrel up. "They're dressed kinda funny and have weird sticks."

"For god's sake." Aldritch lowered his binoculars and looked over his left shoulder. From over his loader's helmet, he could just make out two individuals on horseback. Waving "weird sticks" just as his loader had said they were.

Clancy reached for a small cylindrical device near his skate ring and waved it back at his tank commander. "Want me to shoot a pen flare at em?"

"Hang on." Aldritch looked at the newcomers through his binoculars. "You know what happened last time with Three. I don't need more people thinking we're wizards too." Aldritch could see the Japanese trucks driving after the two locals. Too little too late; the wayward villagers were already mere feet away from the tank.

During any other deployment, these two would've never gotten close enough to the tank, and if they did they either would've been shot at or physically removed. Anyone smart enough knew to stay away from tanks that weren't on their side.

These people couldn't even understand what proper military protocol was, however, let alone what tanks were. Aldritch understood that, but that didn't mean they could just faff about where they so choose.

So, Aldritch tried to wave the two off. Body language was universal and he sure as hell couldn't talk to them, not with the engine being on.

Seeing that the strange metal contraptions had people inside them only seemed to excite the two so they jovially waved back and yelled at the tankers.

Aldritch slammed his fist on the ballistic shield for his cupola and stood up taller in his station. He waved both his hands high in the air and frowned at the locals. "No, GO AWAY. GO A-W-A-Y!"

Again more waves back this time the girl started mimicking Aldritch like it was some sort of fun game.

"One, Three. You uh, good over there mano?" Seeing all the commotion Rapida Dos swung its gun tube over the side.

"Affirm, just got some stubborn locals over here. Stay where you are."

"One, Four. We're having some similar issues over here. They're getting testy with us. What's going on with the picket?"

"Pickets here, lagging hard, wait one." Aldritch switched channels. "RCT3, Horseman One. What's the status with that picket, we have civilians running all over the place."

"Uh hai, we're moving in now. I sent two vehicles over to Coda-"

From over his station, Aldritch could see the trucks heading over to the village and another catching up to his current position. Why the Japanese didn't do this sooner was beyond him. Reinforcements or not they needed to take control of the situation and Aldritch's patience was beginning to wane.

"Well, you better start moving faster because I have eyes on multiple civilians getting dangerously close to my tanks."

"Apologies, they just blew past us."

Aldritch had had it with excuses, so he changed his language to something that the Lolley gagging Japanese would understand: their own.

"Taisho, pull your head out of your ass and take control of the goddamn-"

Aldritch never got to take in the shocked reactions of both the Japanese and his own men at the sound of the foreign language leaving his lips.

A roar, the familiar whipcrack of cannon fire. Then, absolute chaos.

XXXXXX

Hicks had protested against visually verifying that the dragon was dead. A simple confirmation volley followed by some tracers would do the job just fine.

But no, Aldritch wanted to see his kill up close, maybe even get a photo op. It was always the same with officers. Ribbons and medals first common sense second.

At least, that's what Hicks was thinking and he was certain that was a sentiment shared by the rest of the platoon. So verify the kill the platoon did; pushing uncomfortably close to the giant beast. Throughout the entire time, Hicks had a bad feeling, the same sort of bad feeling that had saved both himself and the lives of his Marines countless times before. That was why his tank's gun wasn't on safe and his gunner instructed to fire if the dragon so much as twitched.

Which, it did. Only instead of just twitching the creature lashed out at Here We Go Again, its claws driving into the front of the tank's turret. On cue, Hicks's gunner fired, sending a shell right through the base of the dragon's neck.

That would be the shot that ultimately felled the beast, one that would see its head blown clean off, but Hicks wouldn't take the time to admire the handiwork. No, three Marines he had deployed with to Afghanistan were on the tank that just got hit. The same one that, upon getting hit, immediately reversed through Coda's flimsy palisade. Something was wrong.

So, Hicks did what any Marine did when his brothers were in trouble. Emotions outweighed protocol.

"Gunner take over, breaking comms!"

Heedlessly ignoring the confused chatter of his crew and the radio net; Hicks ripped his comm helmet off, grabbed his shotgun, and jumped off the side of his tank.

Hicks ignored the pain that shot up his knees and broke into a sprint across the grassy field and towards the damaged tank.

"PARKER!"

The sergeant filled his lungs with air as he pumped his arms up and down, his control over his weapon never wavering. He prided himself on being the fastest Marine in the platoon so it didn't take long for him to reach the village.

As Hicks got closer he could hear the telltale hum of the tank's engine starting to power down and the terrified screams of villagers. Hicks watched his footing as he ran over, track marks, broken logs, and various bits of debris. He couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of paperwork all of this would warrant.

Upon clearing the ruined palisade the sergeant skid to a halt as he saw the true extent of the damage. There, jutting out of a now crumbling cottage, the tank sat with its gun elevated over the front right fender. Dust was still settling from the collision and parts of the cottage sat scattered about both on the ground and the tank.

Thankfully, it didn't look like there were any civilian casualties. At least, not at a glance.

Wilkes was slumped face down over his skate ring, one hand still gripping his 240's grip.

Elton was still conscious though, and judging by the yelling he was doing into his comm helmet, not much worse for wear.

"Jesus Christ, PARKER!"

Hicks picked up his pace but not before aiming his shotgun at some dumbstruck villagers getting too close to the tank.

"Back off! Back off!"

Hicks rapidly fired two rounds into the air and put himself between the villagers and the tank. That act, coupled with the fact the strange man with the thunder stick could speak their language, seemed to get the message across and the villagers quickly dispersed.

Hicks slung his shotgun and ran over to the tank, clambering up the front slope in short order. The driver's hatch slowly opened and an incredibly dazed Benitez emerged.

"S-sergeant. I don't feel so good."

Hicks gave the driver a few reassuring shakes. "You alright?!" The tank's engine had long been shut off making the job of communicating with the crew a much easier task.

Benitez reached for his stowed M4 and crawled out onto the front slope. "Yeah, yeah I just feel kinda funny."

"Stay there, I'll check back on you. Shoulder that weapon and make sure nobody gets close you got it?"

Benitez wordlessly gave a thumbs up, got into a low crouch, and flipped the safety off for his weapon.

Hicks climbed up the front of the turret. "Elton, Wilkes?!"

"Fucck." Wilkes slowly got up and leaned back against his skate ring. He yanked his comm helmet off and looked around confused. "What happened?"

"Fucker wasn't dead, I made it dead." Hicks couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. The potential for concussions inside a tank was all too common and Here We Go Again had been rocked, hard.

"F-fucking sir and his stupid ideas." Elton took his helmet off too and lowered his balaclava before running his hands down the front of his face. "Benitez I didn't fucking tell you to reverse!"

"I-I'm sorry man!" Benitez called back up. "The thing just swung and I-"

"It's fine, you okay?" Elton lowered his tone. "No stars or anything right?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm feeling okay now. Just a little wired."

"Looks like the cavalry's coming." Hicks looked back over his shoulder at the sound of another turbine engine getting closer. His tank, minus its tank commander of course. Next to it two of the Japanese trucks followed in hot pursuit.

Seeing a curious crowd start to form around the tank and its new resting place, Elton coughed nervously. "We need to get this tank out from under this fucking house." He paused and looked back over his shoulder only to feel a pit form in his stomach. A twisted mess of straw and wood sat on the other side of blue-tinted reinforced ballistic glass. His weapon station had been all that had stood between him and certain decapitation.

Elton muttered a prayer, once again the tank had saved his life.

Wilkes groaned and cracked his neck before slapping a fist on the top of the turret. "Hey, Kincaid, you see any funky errors or anything down there?"

No response.

"Kincaid? Bro?" Wilkes dropped down into the turret and quickly yelled out in terror. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck fuck fuck!"

All of the other tankers including Hicks felt ice form in their veins. There was only one other time Wilkes had ever panicked like that.

There, slumped over in his seat awkwardly, Kincaid sat with lopsided glasses and blood trickling out of his mouth.


CHECKPOINT TWO

"Cease fire!"

Van Hauser maintained a steady hold on the pistol grip for his M4 and raised his other hand into a balled fist.

The shooting stopped just as quickly as it had started. Rain had started to fall, each droplet releasing small wisps of steam off the barrel of Van Hauser's weapon. 10 bodies and their horses lay spread out in front of Van Hauser and his men.

There had been little room for discussion and the moment the strangers saw the Marines they broke into a suicidal charge. A quick and bloody exchange, now only the ambient sounds of a coming storm and the barks of the platoon's K9, Davey, remained. The dog growled and tugged at his handler's leash. Something inside the still intact wagon had the canine spooked.

Van Hauser took his now useless sunglasses off and clipped them back onto his vest. "Check the bodies! The rest of you, on me."

Boyd got behind Van Hauser and slammed a fresh mag into his weapon's mag well. "On your six sir."

Van Hauser kept his weapon in the semi-ready position and moved methodically towards the wagon. Behind him, the rest of first squad did the same as they began to form a perimeter around the area. A few of the Marines stopped and gave the bodies a few nudges with their boots. Any that stirred were immediately tended to. Enemies or not the Marines still had rules even if this world didn't.

Upon reaching the wagon Van Hauser aimed at its tarp-covered front and yelled out in the native tongue. "If there is anyone there, come out! We promise to not hurt!"

No response.

"We are friends!"

Then, something made a loud thump from within the wagon. All of the Marines brought their weapons up and Davey's barking intensified

"Come out!"

The thumping made its way to the tarp and the fabric began to stir as something tried to emerge. Van Hauser kept the scarlet tip of his ACOGs chevron reticle trained on the tarp as a small hand pushed aside the fabric

Then, and with no small amount of effort, a young woman emerged. Her hands were shackled in thick iron cuffs. Dark red splotches stained the meager rags she wore in a vain attempt to conceal her injured body. The Marines slowly lowered their weapons, more than a few had their eyes glued to the top of the girl's head.

Cat ears that would normally be perked up drooped as the girl started to sway back and forth, her exhausted eyes locking onto her strange rescuers. A cat-human hybrid straight out of the weird Japanese cartoons. So that was what spooked Davey.

"H-help us."

Then she toppled over the side and right into Van Hauser's now waiting arms. The soaked Marine officer cradled the girl in his arms and looked back at his troops as more injured civilians began to emerge.

"CORPSMAN!"


?

Oh good! I was beginning to wonder when I'd be able to have a chat with one of you.

Kincaid jolted upright at the sound of the foreign voice. His hands instinctively patted his body down in search of his weapon. His gear was on, his uniform was there, but his chest-mounted pistol holster was missing.

No, your fascinating weapon isn't there. Not that it would do you much good anyway.

"Who the fuck, w-where the fuck?!" Kincaid quickly got on his feet and looked around; well, he tried to, but there wasn't very much to see. He stood alone, illuminated by a strange light in an ocean of nothing.

You know that is a fascinating question and one I was about to ask you. Quite the mess you're starting to stir in this humble world I watch over.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere outside and from within.

Kincaid felt a pit form in his stomach. He had never come close to death before, never been knocked out. The last thing he remembered was a roar and a harsh impact, then, nothing.

"Am I dead?"

No, no you're not dead, unfortunately. Let's just say one of you was finally...open, to let me into your life. Shame really, a soul like yours could probably entertain me for eons! Why just think of the things we could share!

"I don't consider myself much of a religious type." Kincaid looked around and tried to find the source of the voice. "And I sure as hell don't have much to share. So now that introductions are out of the way, you mind telling me who you are."

Oh but you do, Jasper Kincaid. As for who I am, well, let's just say I'm someone who thinks your people might just be the best thing to ever happen to this dull world, but now that question has been answered!"

Kincaid heard what sounded like a loud clapping of hands.

Now let's just see who you are.

Before Kincaid could protest he dropped to his knees and held his head as a sharp pain pierced his brain. Someone, something, was digging through his mind. Pulling memories out in front of him not unlike a child tearing photos out of a family album.

The Marine grit his teeth and yelled in pain as he saw everything he had ever experienced play out in front of him like a movie on fast forward.

Oh, what a world! What a marvelous world….and absolutely none of this makes sense to me!

Home, the U.S., family. The things he cherished the most. Then, the pain of Afghanistan. The yelling, the fire.

"Raymond!" Kincaid yelled out the name of his fallen friend and crewmate as he saw the blast engulf the side of his old tank.

Your people have seen much war, but so have I good sir and so have mine. I can't say I've ever seen it waged like this!

Kincaid clenched his jaw and glared back at the darkness. He wouldn't let this thing read him like some discarded book. He pushed back against the force ripping into his mind, resisted as best he could.

As expected, you do have some fight in you! Oh, Rory is going to love your merry little band! "Marines", hmmm, what a curious name.

Kincaid gasped and fell onto his back as he felt the force suddenly relinquish its grip on his mind.

Damnit, that spritely little mage. Giving her your best prayers and whatnot. No matter, I've learned what I needed.

Kincaid felt the familiar rushing sensation of waking up from a bad dream. He could feel his body begin to move, his actual body.

In time Rory will be with you and then, well, change. Change the likes of which will have never been seen before!

As Kincaid felt himself return to the land of the living the voice called out once more now reduced to a mere echo.

Best of luck and thank you for destroying Hardy's pet, annoying little pest that thing was. Oh, and do enjoy your stay in Falmart Mister Kincaid! I look forward to all of you flying my colors in due time!

Then Kincaid's world was engulfed in a blinding light.

Tell your friend Itami he needs to shape up! I'm sure Rory can help! Tell her Emroy said so!


1700 HOURS SPECIAL REGION TIME CODA VILLAGE

Kincaid's eyes darted open as he awoke to a multitude of different sounds. The pitter-patter of rain on a wooden roof, the distorted chatter of radio channels keying in and out over radio, and the mumbling of voices both foreign and familiar. Wooden floorboards creaked as leather boots stomped from one place to the next.

Kinkaid was laying down atop a stretcher inside some sort of room, a very foreign room at that. His glasses were missing, so it took the Marine a little longer than normal to take stock of where he was. He wasn't blind, but he couldn't make out finer details at longer distances. A nearby fireplace cast a warm and welcoming glow that stretched from one end of the room to another. Above, Kincaid could just make out the criss-cross of wooden beams supporting a heavily stitched straw ceiling. The place reminded him of some of the old preserved medieval towns he visited during his trips to Europe. Just without all the Marines and Japanese soldiers loitering around. The soldiers fussed around with portable radios atop a dining table. Kincaid couldn't recognize any of them.

"Ohayo Corporal...Kincaid was it? Welcome back."

A soothing female voice called out from the right side of the room and Kincaid groaned as he tried to shift his head slightly.

"Easy, you took one nasty hit." The female, a Japanese soldier, slowly made her way to Kincaid's side. Kincaid was able to get a better look at her as she made her way over and knelt over him. Fair skin, blue eyes that seemed to pierce right into his own, and a smile that put any of his earlier worries right at ease. Her dark hair was tied neatly into a military regulation bun but a few strands hung down past her forehead and complimented her features perfectly. Simply put, she was beautiful, and in any other situation, the now smitten Marine might have had something sly to say.

A simple "ouch" was all he could muster for right now.

"'Ouch' indeed, you're lucky your helmet took the brunt of the impact." The Japanese soldier chided him not unlike a doting mother would. She shook her head with no small amount of indignation. "Tough as your tanks maybe, you're still only human. Try to remember that before you go ramming into houses."

"Shit." Kincaid subconsciously squinted his eyes and ever so slowly began to sit upright. His mouth didn't feel much better either and a quick check revealed he had bit his bottom lip. "What the hell happened doc?"

"You lug-heads got too close to the dragon." Doc Carson called out from a wooden chair at the other side of the room. He sat leaning against a wooden wall, the light from a nearby window casting a gray glow on his features. "Turns out it wanted one last good hit."

Carson pointed at the ceiling and back at some confused-looking villagers watching from near a pantry. "These villagers were kind enough to let us into their place and get you out of the rain. You're lucky you didn't cause any extra collateral."

Kincaid's head throbbed as the memory came back. "Yeah I remember, we kill it this time?"

"Hicks killed it, then he ran over to your tank to check on you guys."

Kincaid winced as the Japanese medic leaned in and began shining a light into his eyes. He could smell her shampoo. At least one female took care of herself in the field. "Same old Hicks-yeesh doc, little bright dontcha' think?"

"All part of the process Corporal." The medic responded nonchalantly.

"Yeah well, it's a process I should be doing Sergeant Kurokawa. He's one of my Marines." Carted added firmly. "I appreciate your willingness and speed getting to him, but I got it from here."

Kurokawa, so that was her name.

"I understand and I apologize. I just like to finish what I start, that's all." Kurokawa finished her tests and got back up. "Well you seem okay, but if you experience anything-"

"-I'll let you know, Sergeant. Seriously, we got it from here." Carter pointed to a figure wrapped up on a similar cot next to Kincaid's. "You might want to check on our new friend though."

"New friend?" Kincaid repeated the statement and looked over towards his left. There, wrapped up in copious amounts of linens and with only her head exposed, lay a blonde girl. The first thing that caught Kincaid's attention wasn't her fair features though, it was her ears. They were pointed, just like the ears of a….

"E-elf?" Said an incredulous Kincaid as he slowly got back on his feet. "No way."

"Yes, she showed up not after the rain started." Kurokawa made her way over and knelt beside her. "Poor thing was covered in dirt and soaking wet, we think she might have come from the village."

Kincaid shook his head; this world just kept throwing more and more surprises. Carson got up and fetched a pair of glasses, two ponchos, and his M16 off the table he was near. He gave the glasses and one poncho to Kincaid.

"Well, now that you're back on your feet, let's get back to the coil. I think we're getting ready to SP back to Alnus."

Kincaid donned his glasses. "Back to work; never fucking ends." The Marine patted himself down. "I'm taking it that all my gear is?-"

"Back on the tank, yep." Carson answered matter of factly. "You waking up in a strange house while armed? Not a chance lughead."

"Yeah, cause we know how good a shot you are doc." Kincaid rubbed his head and gave a thumbs up to his would-be Japanese savior. "Thanks sergeant, I appreciate you taking care of me."

Kurokawa nodded and smiled, the same smile that almost made Kincaid guffaw earlier. "Just doing my job."

"Right, well doc, let's go." Kincaid beckoned for his corpsman to follow him to the simple wooden door leading to the house. As he went to open it a small voice called out from behind.

"Thank you, brave knight."

That wasn't Kurokawa's voice and no other soldier American or Japanese would dare say that sincerely.

Kincaid stopped and looked back at the family. Their daughter, a little brown-haired girl, clutched her hands together in prayer and nodded. "Thank you."

Kincaid stared back at the family for a few moments and then responded as naturally as he would to anyone back on Earth. "Y-you're welcome?"

Both of the medical personnel looked at Kincaid confused like he had said something that made zero sense.

"Well, someone's been brushing up on their language book."

Confused and utterly at a loss for words Kincaid simply nodded. "Y-yeah, of course." With that Kincaid and Carson donned their ponchos and departed into the rain. Right into the strange gray-haired girl from earlier.


In the center of a lonely road and leaning against her massive halberd, a young girl sat waiting for her newly assigned charges. It was a beautiful day even with the incessant downpour. Hardy's doing no doubt, the goddess always got this way whenever one of her own was felled. Hardy could lament all she wanted; nothing would stop what was already set in motion.

"So the pieces are in place and the game has begun."

The girl giggled. "Kincaid and Itami, my lord, you always pick such oddly named followers, but if they're the ones to help bring change here."

She shrugged and laughed. "Well? Who am I to question your will?!"

She picked up her weapon and effortlessly spun it a few times in her hands before slamming it back into the dirt. "Now come to me, my Marines, my...Jay-Es-Dee-Eff! Rory Mercury, apostle to the lord most high Emroy, welcomes you with open arms!"


TERMS/ACRONYMS USED:

Sea Bees: United States Naval Construction Battalions, navy combat engineers essentially. Mad respect for you guys, made life a lot easier during deployment.


EDIT: Check the Gate Subreddit for the Discord link at this time