Alnus Hill, 0800, 7 days since contact
The whirring of the engines reverberated across the armored column like a conglomerate of electronic terror, with Abrams tanks steadily pushing alongside armored carriers and fighting vehicles in an assured display of firepower.
Gunships were hovering just overhead, barely audible amid the heavy armor that raced through the confines of the portal, but their cannons and missile systems provided even further sense of reassurance that could not be understated.
The light at the far end of the Gate was just within reach, and in contrast with the blackened depths of the portal where they had come from, it was almost blinding - with some of the observers likening it to a theoretical heaven's gate.
"Bravo two-six, this is Pigpen. We've arrived at our intended destination and are moving out."
"Roger that, Pigpen. Resistance should be fierce, but nothing you can't handle. Give 'em hell and rendezvous towards Coda ASAP, out."
"Roger that."
The silhouettes of the forward operating vehicles against the backdrop of the world aheadwas a magnificent sight to behold; many crewmen staring in awed silence at the spectacle before them.
As the light dimmed, a pallet of vibrant greens and blueslaid bare: the sky was clear, and the the apparent hill with which the tanks stood on provided a phenomenal view of the fields below - which were themselves engulfed in colors of reds, blues, and yellows.
They were the enemy - that was obvious, and were abundant in number, to say the least - combining into a single indistinguishable mass.
Even with Pigpen's limited experience, the crew put their training to work. With the helis overhead, and the column of armor still flooding in from behind them, this would be a fairly one-sided battle. The massacre that would follow almost made them pity the enemy.
Each crewmember knew their role and set to work to their utmost efficiency. With a high explosive sabot round readily inserted into the main gun's chamber, the 120mm gun of the Abrams was pointed towards a column of enemies nearest to them, with the other vehicles in the vicinity fixating on different threats. In a moment's notice, a barrage of fire would turn the enemy's stunned gazes into mincemeat.
Each respective ruler looked at Alnus with open intrigue. Even with the great distance between them, a faint rumbling reverberated across the field.
None of the leaders would voice any concern, but there came an unfamiliar feeling that erupted from their very cores - one that the King of Mudwan had only experienced in his relative youth.
It was apprehension. The hairs on their skin stood on end at the otherworldly rumbles: like the march of thousands of heavy feet, they were incessant and rapid - growing in intensity with each passing second.
Then, as clear to them as anybody else, a rectangular object bounded forward from the portal's abyss: it was olive green, with smooth, angled surfaces and a bore so pronounced that from across the vast swaths of field separating them, they could easily detect the opening ominously presented at its tip.
They didn't know what it was, but it was relatively easy to deduce what it might be capable of.
As the confusion waned, more of the objects appeared beside it, followed by flying contraptions with "wings" flapping so fast that they appeared as little more than a blur.
"What is that..?" the King of Aguna audibly wondered.
Before the others could provide their own ideas, the protrusion erupted into a cloud of smoke and fire. In a flash, a large group of Alguna's men disappeared - leaving behind nothing but a mist of blood and collected debris. A few seconds later, a crack was heard.
The other rectangular objects followed suit, while the fliers overhead doled out their own punishment, as parts of the vehicle's undercarriage flung forward indiscriminately into whatever was unfortunate to meet its gaze.
There was a length of ground that the troops had to cover to reach the abominations, but within that span of time, a barrage of explosives and rapid projectile fire would mend them into a fine paste.
Duke Ligu cursed under his breath, then turned to a subordinate. The subordinate in question was barely cognitively present, his eyes fixated on the massacre before them. "I need you to relay to the nearest settlement; go on horseback and urge assistance as quickly as possible..."
The soldier listlessly nodded off, shambling his way to a horse stable. The poor equines were obviously under distress, their panicked neighs and movement barely audible among the chaos below.
"We need to maintain order in the ranks," Ligu stated. "It seems that our troops need a morale booster."
"But what if you were to be killed?" The King of Mudwan asked. "There would be no one else worthy of leading."
Ligu had his hand gripped on to the tent's canvas entrance, seemingly taking the elder man's words into consideration, but the droves of soldiers futilely rallying towards imminent death ignited a dual sense of anger and drive that had ultimately settled his decision. This wasn't a war - it was a massacre!
With a new-found sense of purpose, the Duke peered towards the leaders behind him one last time. "What kind of leader would I be if I didn't set by example?"
As Duke Ligu exited the tent, he let out a vigorous war cry, before he and his steed disappeared into the crowd of men.
The other leaders were collectively indecisive. The King of Alguna looked to the older man for some level of guidance, his wrinkled face contorting into an unreadable expression.
The two basked in the relative silence, waiting for the other to speak, but time was not on their side: the slit of the tent's opening revealed an increasingly bloodied battlefield, as more of the contraptions steadily poured down the hill and onto cratered landscape.
Finally, the Alguna ruler spoke. "Should we follow?"
The King of Mudwan offered a shrug. "Emperor Molt is not a man I would want to disappoint." As he said that, he briskly walked towards the stables, his intent clear.
The King of Alguna, on the other end, hesitated. Between an enraged ruler such as Molt and an army of seemingly invulnerable machines, what other options were there? It seemed that death was inevitable. Feeling resigned to his fate, the Algunan ruler - almost robotically - marched forward.
Roma River bank, 4 klicks beyond the Gate, 0800, 7 days since contact
Almus eyed the battle intently through his binoculars, transmissions from the tankers erupting from his own radio.
The 1st Armored Division was still cascading from the portal and down the hill in steady numbers, with rear troops emerging from their carriers and picking off some of the Empire's straggling soldiers.
The war elephants had been utterly decimated, with the dead and dying scattered about a great deal of bloodied land, and the few dragon riders that the enemy had possessed were promptly shot out of the sky by a hefty barrage of concentrated machine gun fire.
"Oh," Lelei mouthed in quiet awe. She likely wasn't able to discern any details, but anybody with a working brain could tell how one-sided the battle was. She didn't seem to be particularly fazed by the violence in front of them - more so enamored by the display of raw power so brazenly shown: her eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store.
"You see that? That's what the Empire's working against. We just need the common people to stand with us, and everything will go over smoothly," Almus said.
Lelei nodded, but refused to take her eyes off of the battle. "Most of the Empire's subjects are indifferent about the government. If your people can prove to them that you are able to stand up to Molt sol Augustus' armies, and mean them no harm, then I imagine most would stand by you."
Almus smirked facetiously at the girl, until she finally glanced questioningly at him. "Jeez, I think that's the longest I heard you talk."
Lelei only huffed in response, but he swore he could see the curve of her mouth curl up slightly.
Sadera, 0900, 7 days since contact
Princess Pina Co Lada was a young woman of many talents: charismatic, tactical, cunning, and skilled with a sword when the need called for it.
She had little reservations about the attempted conquest of the world beyond; if her father didn't worry, then why should she?
Even if Casel el Tiberius provided a clear opposition to the decisions made by the council, it was his express purpose to provide a more pacifistic representation to the council - as it was what he built his career on.
Then why did the pit of her stomach churn to the point of nausea? Why did she feel a sense of doom whenever in the presence of either her father or brother? Were they, perhaps, misguided - if even a bit? Was this her subconscious working itself into a frenzy of doubt?
There was no conceivable way that the Empire could lose: she worked out every possible scenario in her mind, and in the end, overwhelming numbers and simplified logistics triumphs over advanced technology or magic any day.
She pondered this within the confines of her room, staring thoughtfully at her reflection on the mirror as Casel's words etched themselves into her conscience. Maybe his concerns were valid...
"Hamilton?"
"Yes, Princess Pina?" a girl called back. A loyal member of Pina's Rose-Order of Knights, Hamilton Uno Ror was also a trusted friend - and in a sense - like a younger sister to Pina co Lada. Her emerald eyes often lit up with apparent child-like admiration for the Princess, and as the hazel-haired girl ran to her side and offered a hasty salute, this time was no different.
"I already told you about what Casel said. I want to believe in Father, and I hate to admit this, but it's been eating at me: I have my doubts of any short-term success."
Hamilton seemed slightly taken aback: Pina Co Lada - Princess of the Empire of Sadera and firey leader of an elite group of warriors - doubtful? She recovered from her brief stupor and leaned forward to face Pina - as she furled her brows in contemplation.
Hamilton placed a gentle palm on the princess' shoulder, and smiled reassuringly. "We've been friends since childhood. Whatever happens, I'll be right beside you."
Pina nodded. She briefly met eyes with her junior and produced a small - but no less sincere, smile of her own. "I suppose if it comes down to it, we could finally put our training to a proper test."
Most of the Empire's army were poorly-trained conscripts from backwater areas: their motivations mainly derived from fear of government reprisal more than anything, so it made sense that the units sent beyond would crumble so easily in the face of overwhelming firepower - their fear of the Empire was less immediate than that of the enemy.
In contrast, Pina and her Rose Order of Knights were crack troops in theory; most of their ranks were filled with enthused noble youth and veterans who've received their trial by fire. To put her soldiers into combat was a prospect that appealed to the young woman, especially - to prove to her father and brother that they were more than just for show. Maybe an elite band of soldiers is what the Empire needed in this pivotal moment. Maybe they could turn the tide of war.
Italica, 0900, 7 days since contact
Kaine was the head maid of the castle, and a loyal servant to the Formal Clan. Like her master, she was a stern, though compassionate, woman, helping to ease many lost girls - human or otherwise - into their new lives.
She was the mother figure that they needed - a beacon of hope among the ravage of the Empire.
Her town of Rosa, like many independent regions of Falmart, had been dominated by the militant power just thirty years ago. She understand the shock, heartache, and the aimlessness that comes from such an attack, and yet, by some miracle, the Formal Clan had given her purpose again.
These girls, who would otherwise be left to squander, were housed, and perhaps for some of them, given genuine affection for the first time in their lives.
For many of the castle's maidens, this loyalty extended beyond mere admiration and pushed the point of zealotry: they would readily give up their lives in the name of the Formal Clan, and would just as easily kill for them.
But there she was, serving one of the "Americans" that assisted in her masters' capture.
Jefferies was his name: a ruggedly handsome man with piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair. He sat contently within the guest quarters, wearing nothing but contrastingly dingy leather garbs and a wool cap, sipping away at some freshly-brewed tea that one of the maidens had prepared for him.
"I hope it's to your liking, sir!" a bunny girl by the name of Delilah chirped. Her friendly facade was indisputable, but the slight switch of her ear and her refusal to lock eyes with the man told Kaine enough.
The girl gave a swift bow and made her leave, just before locking eyes with Kaine. She made an uneasy expression, her ginger ears somewhat drooping and blue eyes filled with uncertainty. That told the head mistress enough; it was a good thing that she knew these girls so well.
"Mister Jefferies, I am aware that Master Formal should arrive today, but what happens afterwards?" Between the forces of the Empire and the Americans, Italica was totally in the dark. Would there be swift punishment? Would the city be destroyed in a fierce battle of attrition? She did not know.
Jefferies set down his tea and politely kept his hands at his lap. "Our main forces should arrive before the Empire's does. We've been working out a deal with your master, and promised that the city will be protected in exchange for usage."
Kaine had heard in passing the capabilities of this force from beyond the Gate, so she had reasonable confidence in their success, but collateral damage was a factor that greatly concerned her: just as she had witnessed in Rosa all those years back, war did not discriminate between combatants and civilians, and with the weaponry that these Americans possessed, the potentially for civilian casualties was all the more apparent.
Would it even be worth it? "What happens after..?" Kaine asked.
"We head to Sadera."
"After that..?"
"We decapitate their government."
"After that?"
He finally broke free from his act of indifference, and sighed, turning his head to look at Kaine. Those once-cold eyes carried something more...it almost mirrored the look that Delilah had given her before she left. "I don't know yet, Miss Kaine - I just do what I'm told. How do you feel about the Empire?"
"Indifferent." It was the truth: whether the Empire fell or not, it didn't matter, so long as Italica and the Formal Clan remained.
Jefferies nodded. "I wouldn't worry too much: as long you're under US protection, everything will be fine."
"Yes, sir. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to ask." Kaine bowed and exited the guest room, her chest heavy. All she was given were vague promises from a man she had no reason to trust; for all she knew, Formal and his daughter could've been killed and Jefferies was simply biding time.
"Madam Kaine," Delilah whispered from the far end of the hall. Her expression was unusually pensive.
Kaine approached the bunny girl, fully aware that she had heard their conversation. The beauty of these demi-humans was that their senses were immaculate. "What is it, Miss Delilah?"
"Either that man is telling the truth, or is a really good liar. I heard his heartbeats, and there was nothing off."
"For our sake, I hope it's the former."
Delilah nodded in agreement. "This feels so familiar. I don't want to go through it, again..." She looked noticeably troubled, timidly keeping her gaze towards the ground, but the head maid knew her well enough to understand what she was feeling.
Kaine placed her hands on each of the bunny girl's shoulders, which prompted her to look up. There, she met older woman's gaze - a gentle smile on her face. "I won't let that happen to you girls, again. I promise."
Delilah sniffled, and a few tears even ran down her cheeks, but she did not cry. "If it comes down to it, I'll fight until I die."
"I hope you won't have to...but until then, keep an ear out for our guest, will you, dear? Tell the others to do the same."
The bunny girl's expression hardened. She clenched her fists and gave a curt nod, eyes burning with a newfound fiery passion. "I won't let us down, madam!" She was a warrior bunny, after all: espionage was her forte.
Two clicks south of Coda, 1000
When he had first met Lelei La Lalena, Almus never imagined her to be so...talkative. Her curiosity was limitless, and like a small child, her questions never ceased.
"How do you communicate with your people from so far?" She would ask.
"Via radio."
"How does it work?"
"By electronic waves."
"How does that work?"
"I don't know." And so on.
He admittedly found it rather endearing, just how invested she was in tech that - up until now - he had taken for granted.
Even in third world countries back on Earth, radios, guns, and other such utilities were far from uncommon: it's as though Falmart had remained technologically stagnant for hundreds, or thousands of years.
"Forgive my apprentice, but this is all new to us you, see," Cato said. "For example, that fire show your folks put on earlier - that was a real treat! It would require a pretty skilled wizard to pull off stunts like that."
The armored column was just within a few hundred meters, their hulking frames growing even larger by the second. The signal smoke that Almus had lit minutes earlier was very much a necessity: with little pre-planning, they might've been mistaken for displaced enemy combatants, otherwise.
The rumble of the vehicles shook the ground like a large tremor, moving the trio's insides - which surprisingly, felt pretty good; something that the elder sage took full advantage of, before being promptly smacked by a blast of water from Lelei's staff.
"Perv," she nonchalantly muttered under her breath, but her eyes were instead locked onto the "tanks" as they were then only a few dozen meters in front of them.
The leading tank stopped, and the others quickly followed suit, before a hatch atop the leading tank opened.
A man popped out of the lead vehicle, most of his face obscured by a helmet and visor. "You Almus?" He called out in a language unfamiliar to either Cato or Lelei.
"That, I am," Almus yelled back.
"We heard there's a village just north of us: any chances the locals will let us set up shop there?"
"Almus, what are they saying?" Lelei asked as she boldly stepped towards the leading Abrams. The commander of the vehicle gazed down at her with mirrored curiosity, but didn't say anything.
"They need a place to settle. Could one of you head back and inform the chief of our new guests?"
Cato groaned in an exaggerated show of pain, rubbing at his back as he leaned on his staff for support. "I'd love to, but an old man like me? Oh, walking back would collapse these old moans! Unless I use my magic to-"
"You aren't allowed to abuse magic, remember? You taught me that," Lelei glared at her mentor.
"You're no fun...alright, I'm going. But before that..." Cato grazed Almus' shoulder as he walked by, catching the man's attention. He slowed down a bit, but continued walking as he spoke. "Those villagers are good people, and occupying armies have a habit of taking advantage of that fact. I hope you hold up your end of the bargain."
"It would be bad for relations if I didn't." The ISA operator grinned, but deep down he knew his words could only carry him so far; the bureaucracy that was the US military had a habit of changing course on a whim. He only hoped that he wouldn't be treading familiar ground.
"Just as a warning, boys: the locals have been talking about a massive dragon terrorizing the area. If it comes around, you think you could get rid of the thing?"
Pigpen chuckled, then waved his hand about at the vehicle he was standing in. "You're joking, right? This beaut' can penetrate heavy armor out to four clicks - a dragon ain't shit! As soon as we clear the AO of any stragglers, the engineers will work things out; after that, we're off to Italica."
"Right. Hey, Lelei..."
"Hmm?" the mage-in-training snapped out of her trance and stepped away from the Abrams, her undivided attention set on the man in front of her.
"Where does this dragon usually head off to?"
Outskirts of Sadera, 1000
"We have everything we need: food, water, toiletries, gauze, spare clothes..."
Princess Pina was simultaneously excited and nervous: this was to be her first real venture beyond the capital, barring diplomatic affairs, and it was in pursuit of an enemy that was capable of destroying an entire legion of soldiers.
"Should we round up the rest of our Order before we head out, Princess Pina?" Hamilton suggested, the lilt in her voice betraying her obvious apprehension.
"No: we travel light - that way we can reach Italica before Father's army does."
"The Princess is right, Hamilton," a grizzled grey-haired man interjected, Grey Co Aldo. "This just a reconnaissance mission, nothing more. We have to make sure that things are doing alright in the city, after all."
"Thank the gods these horses are the best available: with them, we should reach Italica in two days and a half," the Princess gleamed in admiration, stroking her mount with a tender hand.
What if the enemy were already at Italica? How merciful would they be if she and her party were caught? What would happen to them, and their horses? Would struggling make things worse?
"Oh, gods..." She was overthinking, again. Yes - best not to dwell on the bad: it disrupts the mind.
"Your majesty, are you ok?" Grey offered to console the girl, just as he done throughout her childhood. A strict military man with a deceptively gentle soul, he was the father figure that she had never had.
"Yes...we should move." The Princess quickly recovered from her brief episode, her red eyes reigniting with a fitting blaze of abject
duty. She was a their leader: to display weakness was to admit defeat.
In the back of her mind, she knew she was putting her life at risk, but her people were in need! Maybe she was driven by her ego; maybe her judgement was clouded by a desire for admiration.
If her father would at least look at her with a degree of sincerity, then maybe, it would all be worth it.