Pilot - III

Day before Initiation

Seryy looked up at the moon, again, for the eighth time in an hour alone. It hung there in the sky, a million pieces adrift in the orbit of the planet he had found himself on several days ago.

He shook his head, finding the answer as to why it was broken incredibly elusive. His thoughts turned back to survival as he looked down at the ammo carrier on his chest. He had been incredibly conservative of his ammo consumption in the recent days, only having used a few rounds.

He directed his gaze back to the surrounding environment and continued on. His grip on his rifle was fairly loose as he sweeped it left and right in front of him. The grass below was wet from the day's rain; it crunched beneath his boots.

After some time of cautious walking, he came across a stone path. The stone was brittle and crumbled to dust with the slightest touch.

He crouched down to inspect them closer. It was old, clearly. Judging from the state of decay, hundreds of years old.

Ruins.

Curiosity got the better of him, as he followed the path to its eventual destination: a temple.

Well, what was left of it. Overgrown with vines and on the way to becoming rubble, it was a wonder that it was still standing.

He came around to the front. It was circular, with many small pedestals lined around the outside. On them were..

"Chess… pieces?"

He picked one up to inspect it; a bishop, made of wood and painted in gold. He scanned the rest. Half were painted gold, the others in black. They all appeared brand new and recently placed.

Seryy placed the bishop back down exactly how it was earlier, backed up, spun in his heel, and walked away. He was not about to get caught messing with someone's strange hobbies, whatever they were.

He kept walking for about an hour in the opposite direction of the temple, only stopping when he came across another ruin.

It seemed far more stable; built in the shadow of a cliff-face and largely passed over by the elements.

Cautiously, slowly, he headed inside, checking the corners. Nothing, not even a spider on a cobweb in some dark, dank corner. A faint breeze turned into a howling gust as it passed through the pillars, biting his skin through the clothing like the creatures he had been avoiding.

A hole in the roof above funneled the moonlight into the rotunda, where it shone on some glyph that had significance long ago.

Seryy, as much as he did not want to tread on ancient history, his need for sleep took first priority. He picked a corner where the wind could not reach him, and laid against the wall, clutching his rifle tightly to him.

2001, Chechnya.

"GET DOWN!"

A large-caliber machine gun had his platoon mates pinned down in a ditch.

"Volkov, Take out that machine gunner!" The radio in his vest crackled, a deep booming voice echoing out.

His hand reached up and pressed a button on it, and he spoke into it. "I don't have a clear visual on him. Target is obscured."

"Fuck!" He could hear on the other side. "Find that machine gunner!"

"In the house, second story! Repeat, second story!"

"Understood." He found the indicated location through his scope and took up on the trigger.

Bang!

He could see a spurt of blood in the air, and the machine gun fell silent.

"Machine gunner down. Again, machine gunner is down."

Remnant, The Next Day

Seryy jolted awake. Deep, bassy explosions, although distant, sounded magnified tenfold in the rotunda. Faintly, he could have sworn he heard a shout of joy.

"Wahoo!"

"The-" He sighed. His dream which could have shed light as to who he was, had been rudely interrupted. Then he jumped up to his feet. "Shit!"

He snatched up his rifle and rushed outside. His wolf ears darted about as he concentrated and listened.

Boom! "Nailed it!"

Northwest of him, about a klick and a half. A voice. Several actually, and lots of gunfire. There were people actually on this planet.

He was about to set out in that direction at full speed, but rationality butted in for a moment.

He took a moment to look over the situation from all angles, before deciding on a plan.

He would stay hidden until he knew for certain they were friendly, and he would observe them from a distance.

Satisfied with this plan of action in mind, he set out to where he had heard the explosions. He glided among the brush, quietly avoiding Grimm along the way.