-Cereous 22nd, 687 of the Imperial calendar
The emperor found himself in his study room more then anywhere else these past three months, frustrated at the lack of good news. Two of the empire's richest cities was in enemy hands and he the day prior got word that not only had the vassals of Alguna, Mordon, Toumaren surrendered with only Elbe continuing to fight though effectively the kingdom had been taken over by the Imperial army. While the Tuba mountains were slowly the enemy's advance, the Other-worlders continued to made progress everyday and it'd be only a matter of time before they fell.
He looked at the map laid in front of him and thought of ways to halt the enemy's advance before Sadera was put to the torch, hoping to keep his prized capital untouched by the conflict but the cost of was already starting to show. 267,000 men were dead and their experience forever lost. Much of the largest diamond and gold deposits in the continent was under the control of the Other-worlders, wrecking a good portion of the economy and forced the upper class to moderate their materialistic consumption.
But thankfully hope came from a rather unusual source: Avion. The seagoing empire had revealed it had been developed what they called Kanonis, new weapons of war. After reading lord Juno's report he quickly ordered ten legions to be equipped with them in both heavy and light variations, while Juno made it clear the time it took to reload they were much deadlier then a arrow or javelin against the iron beasts. The monarch didn't like who fast everything was going for he'd been raised in the way of honor, glory and epic battles where history was made, not a one sides bloodbath were proud Saderans were forced to use cowardly weapons but they were necessary.
He took a cup of wine and took a sip out of it. 'If only this war was as refined as wine.' He thought to himself as he continued studying the map. He could continue to destroy all means for the enemy to use the land, he could destroy all bridges across the rivers Row and Etna along with all of its offshoots to slow the advance. Hell he could send diseased corpses into enemy lines to start a outbreak while using mercenaries and assassins to create havoc, the possibilities was truly endless but he while he didn't agree with them, the empire would stand at any and all cost.
-September 23rd, 2016 of the Gregorian calendar
The sun glared at Johnson's squad as they along with another guylooked down at the hole in front of them. It was two feet in diameter and laid just outside a local village, confirming their fears. The enemy had given them a good scare at the Tuba fortress, killing twenty men in total that night while thirty-one had died at the end of the battle. Many suspected the Saderans used tunnels to sneak their men to the American positions and monsters were merely reinforcements. Now this new threat had to be neutralized and someone had to go down there.
"Johnson.." Said Collins as the private looked at his commander, "Go down there and clear 'em out with Lieutenant Kelly." Kelly was a slighter older man with buzzed hair and raven black facial hair. "You are to help him rat out the enemy and blow the tunnels to kingdom come." Johnson had a look of dismay, he didn't want to die in a fucking hole but didn't want to face his wrath. "Yes sir." He sighed as he pulled out his Beretta and turned on the flashlight on his helmet before following Kelly into the hole.
It as expected was a tight squeeze, the roof of the tunnel just tall enough for someone to crawl on their knees. "Jesus Christ it's cramp." Swore Kelly in a hushed voice. Johnson didn't say anything but silently agreed and continued down the dark path. After about three meters the tunnels became tall enough that they could though it was still quite cramped. Soon they cane across a corner and Johnson for whatever reason feels the hair on his neck stand up, something was wrong.
"Aaahhh!!" Kelly screamed as a dagger was stabbed into his rib cage by a Saderan, Johnson fired three shots into him but it was too late. The private watched the two slump down and his heart rate increased, "T-this is Johnson, Kelly is K.I.A over." There was a moment of silence before Johnson tried again. "This is Johnson! Do you read me, over?" He must of been deep underground for the comms to not work.
'Shit.' He picked up the explosive and detonator, stashed them away and continued on down the tunnels with pistol in hand. He was only able to go about three yards until another Saderan popped out of his hiding spot but this time Johnson shot him before he could do any harm to him.
His breathing got irregular, heartbeat racing and he was sweating like there was no tomorrow. As he turned around the corner down the tunnel he could see a large room of sorts, 'finally...something.' "Hoc aliud mundi!" A man with a crossbow peered from the wall and shoot a arrow straight at him, just missing him about a inch. "Fuck!" Johnson fired back but his attacker went back into cover. Pulling out a flash bag, he put his gun back into his holster and pulled the pin before throwing it.
The private hid behind a hiding spot as the end off, he rushed out to inside the room were the enemy now laid on the ground stunned. He took no hesitation in putting a bullet in the head but he could hear footsteps. The soldier turned around to see another one charging at him with a sword, quickly getting out of the way of his blade and rapidly pulled the tigger. The swordsman fell with multiple gunshots wounds but Johnson knew he wasn't out of the woods just yet. He looked around to find it was a armory of sorts with swords, lances, pikes, maces and everything else.
Now he had a choice, go back and destroy the tunnels now or he could go deeper and potential find something important. Hear multiple voices he decided to play it safe and in hast placed the C4 into a gap between the roof and the support beam. With his task done swiftly ran in the other direction, running for dear life and wishing to not die in such a claustrophobic area.
His lungs burned and his heart was in his neck as the yelling got louder and louder, he slide onto the ground and crawled at record place through the tiny shaft where he could see light. 'Almost there!' "Hey! Get me outta here!" He yelled, his hands clawing at the dirt underneath him.
From the light two pairs of hands reached down and pulled him of of that God-forsaken whole. Johnson simply collapsed and sat down, hands trembling. "What happened down there kid?" Asks Collins, "Kelly's Dead but I managed to set up the C4." "You got the detonator?" The private nodded. Everyone without a word stood back to a safe distance, "Alrighty, fire in the hole!"
166 days after capture
He vividly remembers that fateful day that had started like any other. Andrew had taken his annual shower, got dressed, kissed his wife goodbye and headed off the the subway station to reach work. He had gotten in the subway on time and scrolled thumb across his phone browsing the internet to ease his boredom. It was like any other day until he had gotten out and make his way into the streets when he could hear screaming. Despite all the warnings signs dinging in his head he continued up and stairs before being meet with a stampede of people running for there lives. That was the worse mistake he had as before he knew it a man dressed as a roman legionnaire ran up to him and knocked him out with one hard punch.
When he awoke he found himself in a caged cart with at least a dozen other people, some crying or staring blankly with soulless eyes. Andrew watched from his prison the once lively streets of New York covered in blood of the innocent and with his own eyes horrors he could describe. As the man slowly realized the situation he was in, fear and questions engulfed him. Things like 'What's going on?' And 'Where's the police?' Repeated themselves but he wouldn't get his answer before he and the captured civilians were shuttled through a massive gate and into a whole new world.
Now he was nothing more then a slave, mining and bringing coal up to the surface all day with his fellows. The only thing worse then the exhaustion was the sound and pain of whips, the users barking orders to work faster. The reason keeping him from simply giving up on life was the dreams of his wife whom would sooth him with her beautiful voice and soft, gentle fingers stroking his hair but there was another: vengeance.
Andrew had spent what seemed a eternity in the mines toiling away while dreaming of the day he'd be free and his tormentors rot in hell. He managed to join a group hell bent on escaping and returning home. For now they helped make the hellish conditions a little tolerable for the other slaves and drew up plans to either escape or start a revolt against the bastards who called themselves Saderans.
"Andrew." He awoke from his daze and sat up from his straw bed to see a tall black man named 'Hulk' standing in front of him. "What is it Hulk?" He groaned, "The council needs to speak with you." "But it's not until tomorrow and you now what the guards will do if they catch us." Hulk snickered and shook his head. "Did Moses and his people stop their trek across the red sea to take a nap?" The giant remarked with his deep yet light-hearted voice.
"Alrighty, let's go." Andrew got off his bunk and quietly walked to the very corner of the bunkhouse to where a small group of three sat in a tight circle. They stared at the pair as they entered the circle, anticipation on their minds. "What's going on?" Andrew whispered to which a native American called Jack answered, "Doc has found out great news, our people are in this world fighting the Saderans." Andrew was shocked, they were not forgotten! For the first time in god knows who long felt genuine happiness, enough to almost make him want to cry.
"H-h-how long have they been here? Are they close?" This time Doc who was a slightly older man who had a unkept beard and scruffy blond hair spoke, "I was tending to a penitent when I overheard a two guards talking, one of them had been recently transferred here and was telling the other who the 'Other-worlders' had been kicking their asses for months." 'Can't imagine the death toll.' He thought, for a moment happily thinking of the terror those demons felt while face modern guns and tanks.
"Even with this news we must not stand idle for they may transfer us somewhere else or worse, dispose of us to prevent our liberation." Doc continued, "I say we create a actual plan to escape soon." But one of them, someone who had been there the longest and the odd one disagreed. "You cannot escape, you'd die before you could exit the barracks let alone the mines." They turned to see a man in his mid thirties with coal covered purple hair and scarlet red eyes named Syle. He was a Volgolian who had served in the Volgolian war of independence years ago and was what the Americans called being 'Black pilled'.
"Don't be daft Syle! With enough time and preparation we finally be free!" Said Andrew, "You think because your lands haven't fallen to conquest doesn't mean it'd be easy. My people tried for years, tunneling, playing dead, stealing guard uniforms, all the tricks in the sack! You can't!" "Then why are you apart of the Council then? Our job is to help those around us and get out of here, if y-" "Enough!" Both Syle and Andrew became quiet and looked to Jack. "We mustn't bicker, and even if you disagree with Syle's pessimism he has a point. It'll be difficult and if we wish to have freedom then we must work together. Your argument could've woken everyone up and alarm the guards. Now it's almost time for them to arrive so get back into your bunks!"
"Understood..." Andrew said quietly, seething and his determination to escape his hell hole didn't wavier, not even the pain of whips could make him think otherwise.
Later that day
"Forward!" A voice roared as a whip came down on some poor soul, incentivizing the inmates to walk faster to the Giant mine cage where they'd be sent down into the coal mines. With his fellow slaves Andrew silently entered the iron cage and patiently waited, wanting to relish in this unexpectedly peaceful moment that would be only a tiny fraction of his day.
Approximately twenty or so were crammed into this metal box that would be lowered down the shaft by thick metal chains connected to two large cranks, operated by two beastly minotaurs on each one. From his calculations it took two minutes to get to the very depths of hell. As the cage was lowered the light faded and all very enveloped in darkness with only the rattling of chains and occasional coughing showing any sign of light in the void. It wasn't long until they reached the bottom and the poor souls were met with shouting of guards who smacked slaves with truncheons relentlessly.
The group of men were herded down the shaft until they reached the mouth of a giant stop where hundreds of men and beasts toiled away chipping away at the bedrock or pushing carts filled with coal through shafts to the surface. "Move dogs!" This time the whip wasn't aimed at some random man but at Andrew, who's thin and dirty shirt did nothing to protect his back from the lashes which easily cut throw this skin effortlessly.
He let out a yell of agonizing pain and fell down to his knees but a nearby guard picked him up and shoved the man forward. This was far from the first time he was whipped but he still get use to the horrific pain. Andrew like the rest picked up pick-axes and marched to where the Saderans were pointing and shouting, indicating where they had to dig. The prisoners remained silent as always, forced to only in latin or remain silent which they usually did the later as they got punished if they spoke anyway no matter what language it was.
With all his strength he slammed his tool into the rock and chipped away at it in a repetitive motion he had mastered. For minutes he toiled away undisturbed into he heard a loud clanking noise. Instinctively he turned his head to see a kid, possibly about fifteen one the ground with pick-axes and shovels on the ground with a devil in human form quickly approaching. "Hey kid! Get the fuck up will ya!" A tall man in all clothing with a sickly yellow grin and a truncheon in hand.
Andrew Scott Bonham knew who to survive and while to was completely stupid in a logical sense, but he had sworn an oath to defend his fellow Americans. In a blink of a eye he dropped his tool, sprinted over and suck punched the guard in the jaw, causing him to fall on the ground on a pile of coal. "Who do you think you are?" Growled the guard angrily, pissed that he hand been struck by someone lower then him. "Leave the kid alone Quinn." Warned Andrew, "Or else you won't have any more of your disgusting teeth."
Andrew hated the man with a passion, along with all those the Saderans called Magisters. They were the scum who decided to abuse their fellow countrymen to acquire better food, housing, clothing, were excepted from both beatings and hard labor. "When i'm done, you'll wish you were dead." Stated Quinn as he got up but Andrew simply scuffed. "Let's see then!" Having enough Quinn charged forward and back his arm with truncheon in hand, preparing to strike Andrew but the later quickly dodged and threw a left punch which connected with the Magister's nose.
He continued on with a right uppercut to the gut and with his left first punched Quinn's right eye with good amount of force behind it. With that Quinn finally fell back down again with many of the inmates, even some of the native ones cheering on Andrew as he continued to beat Quinn without much resistance. Dispite being practically starved by his captors still had a good amount of muscle to savagely pound Quinn's face in. With adrenaline pumping through his veins he was filled with rage and took it on the scumbag in his vision and continued on until he heard some shout, "Halt!" Snapped out of it his looked to his right on to meet a boot to the face, kicking him off Quinn and onto his back with the ends of pikes at his throat.
He could see a muscular figure with toned skin, and cold green eyes. Even with his rage he could feel fear gripping at him, and it held firm. It was the ward and he looked furious and took a glance at Andrew before turning to Quinn. "What the hell Happened Quinn?" He questioned in Latin, "I-I was attacked by this son of a bitch." The ward stared for a second before speaking again. "And it appears he gave you a good beating, maybe I should give him your position." He said in a way a psychopath would try to mimic joking around and made Quinn turn as pale as a ghost. "Now slave, what is your name?" Referring to Andrew, "I am Andrew, I-" "I don't care for your excuses!" He roared, making everyone including the other guards to flinch. "You have struck a man of authority and you must be punished." He then snapped his fingers. "Send him to the post and give him forty lashes." With that he was picked up and dragged away, Quinn secretly grinning ear to ear as the ward turned his back.
Happy late New year! Im glad to say this is the first chapter of a hopefully great year with many more chapters to come! I'd like to say thanks for the support I've been getting even with the time between updates. For this year I'll try to make these chapters for now on between 2,500-3,000 words so you have more to read and I'd like to see more reviews on how I can improve this story.