In the span of a day, Laredo, Texas had made national headlines: magical invaders, numbering in the thousands, engulfed a decent portion of the city for some time, raping and marauding their way through its inhabitants with few qualms or hiccups. Dragons, ogres, and armor-clad foot soldiers were recorded by civilians in droves: atrocities, general incompetence, heroic acts of defiance and the like. With the power of the internet, these soon circulated across the world.

Many called angrily for justice, while others merely admired the spectacle. Of course, various news outlets jumped at the opportunity of covering the "Fight for Laredo."

Almost as soon as they had come, they were killed. Magic or not, a legion of bloodthirsty warriors couldn't hope to match against even the weakest of modern militaries. And unfortunately for them, they had landed in the 21st century United States. Fighting wasn't likely to die down for at least a week: certainly, contingents of resistance would try to feebly hold their own against the military and other government agencies seeking them out.

It wouldn't be too unlikely to assume that some of the smarter ones would try and hide out for years to come.

Fort Bragg, North Carolina, 0900, 2 days since contact

With glasses, slender frame, and a hefty, auburn mustache, Master Sergeant Daniel Cunningham wasn't exactly what one might envision as special forces material. It certainly didn't help that he often dressed like a middle-aged dad enjoying an evening walk, but as a Delta Force operator, his unassuming looks were certainly more a blessing than anything else: he certainly didn't stand out.

He was one of the first men on the ground during the attack, and doubled as a translator: these self-described "Imperials" spoke in Latin, were fanatical to the bitter end, and just as pompous. Did they genuinely believe they had a chance - hell - that they were guaranteed a victory?

As the fighting died down, of the 7,000 Imperials that had crossed the gate, around 5,600 of them were believed to be KIA. The rest were either missing, in hiding, retreated or in the case of perhaps less than a hundred, captured. It was thanks in some part to Daniel's efforts that a few of them were even willing to consider surrender: no matter how he felt about them personally, what intel they could gather could be instrumental in deconstructing their world.

Still, a more pressing matter would have to do with the missing civilians: it's likely that a sizeable sum of them had been captured and brought back to the other side of the Gate. For what reason? Given that a majority of the missing civilians were young females, it wasn't too difficult to gather what they might be used for.

"Congress demands action, but they're unwilling to commit to an invasion unless we know what's ahead of us." A bald man in shades presented in front of a small band of soldiers sitting on folding chairs. They looked like civilians if anything, and added with the white walls and bulletin board, it felt more like a classroom session than a debrief.

"If these guys are as primitive as we think, chances are they use messengers rather than landline - and aren't aware of losing Laredo yet, so we have a small window of opportunity to swoop in and gather much-needed information of what's going on out there - before whoever's running the operation can commit more forces, or bolster their defenses. Luckily for us, the ISA's already on the job, so we have a basic idea of what to expect."

A projector from the back of room turned on and lit up the bulletin board, showcasing a simplistic map of the Gate's location and the surrounding area, dubbed "the Special Zone".

"This captured map indicates that their capital is approximately 500 kilometers east of the Gate, so by doing the math, it would take somewhere between five to seven days by horse for them to reach it."

"And by dragon?" a Delta soldier asked.

"I'd wager the dragons are about as fast as a biplane, so it would take - what - two and a half hours, at least? Yeah, that sounds about right. Although it wouldn't surprise me if it was more like five hours: those aren't machines, they gotta rest."

"Thankfully, we took down all those bastards before they had a chance to fallback," Donovan, a caramel man budded in.

The Colonel sighed. "Yeah, but who's to say they won't have more on the otherside acting as messengers? Seems like a damn good way to have a somewhat decent overview of the situation. That's besides the point, though: we're on standby until the ISA confirms the location of those civvies, 'cause we know damn well the CIA won't. We're going in largely blind, but to make up for it, these guys aren't likely to carry Kalashnikovs on them - so that's a plus."

Daniel pondered for a moment, retracing in his mind the moment he first came into contact with an Imperial soldier. Some of the men in the room amusingly noted how he rubbed away at his stache when he did this. "Their armor isn't too impressive: they might be able to absorb a .22, but anything above that and it'll penetrate. So maybe an SMG will do, something with high stopping power."

Another Delta soldier chimed in. "Subsonic ammunition would be a good choice, with suppressors: depending on what we're carrying into the field exactly, the loudest thing you might hear would be the primer clicking. Not like we're expected to penetrate high-end body armor, anyway."

"Alright, then!" the Colonel exclaimed. "Discreteness is the key word, here, gentleman: so two four-man teams seems like an ideal balance. We'll develop this further as more information comes along; those guys in the Activity haven't let us down, yet."

Sadera, Capital of the Empire, 1800, 2 days since contact

Emperor Molt Sol Augustus was a pragmatic, yet proud man: whilst under no delusion that he or those around him were impervious, it was a reasonable assumption that the Empire of Sadera was practically invulnerable to any external threat, otherworldly or not.

Perhaps he was so caught up in his Empire's consistent victories that he grew arrogant. Was it a lapse in judgement on his part to send a mere legion of soldiers through the gate? Then again, in one of the more difficult conflicts in recent memory, the Warrior Bunnies had only inflicted half a legion's worth of casualties - although it was fortunate that the conflict came to an end so soon.

The worst was over, right? Surely, as he had heard no word since the invasion began. He couldn't shake the heavy feeling in his chest, though, that perhaps his messengers hadn't come, not because they had control of the situation...but because they were dead.

That was a proposition that Casel El Tiberius had set forth: however, as one of the more pacifistic members of the senate, he always played foil to Molt's more pro-war sentiments. The ruler wouldn't dare admit it openly, but maybe he was right? If so, would it be a good idea to send more troops as reinforcements? Would that not cause concern amongst the general populace, however? He sat in his throne, deep in thought. Perhaps he should wait for more information.

Italica - 450 klicks beyond the Gate, 0300, 3 days since contact

The Intelligence Security Activity, Task Force Orange, or ISA, are possibly the closest equivalent to James Bond one could get to: many of these operators are multilingual, entirely self-sufficient, sworn to a lifetime of secrecy, and much like their other JSOC brethren, operate with little to no public knowledge. They are the eyes and ears of JSOC: they point Delta, DEVGRU, and other units in the right direction and let them have at it; this operation was no different.

There stood a team of three peasant-looking men situated in a small alleyway, watching as some citizens gathered around a parade of traveling soldiers, likely survivors from Laredo. The crowd was quite small: a given, seeing how late it was.

It was a convoy of about a hundred or so Imperial soldiers, chipper in spite of the beating they took not so long ago. They could hear them singing, chirping, and even laughing, speaking in their native tongues about the "lashing those otherworldly cowards shall take!" and "the beautiful bounty we have acquired". Concerningly, what they had passed for an officer held a 1911 pistol in his hand, admiring it with thinly-veiled interest. It was likely aquired from a slain civvie.

More concerning, however, were the cages.

One of the men casually peered towards the convoy as they passed by, his back resting against a stone wall. "I'm counting several females, all locked up in makeshift cages. Judging by what clothes they have left on 'em, they're one of ours."

"Fuck," one of the men uttered. The light casted by the torches couldn't reach the far end of the alleyway, so they were almost totally obscured by darkness. They spoke the language, though, and looked like an average local citizen, so even if they were to be caught, they'd likely only be viewed as crazed peasants at most.

"Chances are, they're going to be the Emperor's playthings. Likely resting up here. Infiltrate Italica's capital, look for their holding cells, then we get the D-Boys to blow a hole out the other side and get them out - maybe snag an HVT or some documents along the way."

"We have evac available?" an agent, code-named "Almus", asked.

"We have horses," "Rum" replied.

"Good enough."

The man leaning against the wall - "Jefferies" - turned to his two partners. "We better trail them, then. 'Almus', 'Rum', radio."