Chapter Fifteen

Of Carnage And Shadowed Mirrors

/-\ Blake Moriyama Belladonna /-\

It all happened so fast.

One moment I was bussing tables at my part-time job – not my first choice, but it's what was available – and the next, the sky might as well have been falling. Big ships darted across the sky, shooting down any fighter, helicopter, or even airliner that crossed their path. Then they started bombing everywhere, shooting those big green laser guns into the city all around us.

I ducked under one of the tables, hiding beside an old couple while we watched the city burn around us. The cool spring breeze turned into a hot one then became scorching as a laser blast obliterated a housing complex a few doors down. I gasped, burying my face in my arms while the heat washed over us. I heard screams and peeked my head up just enough to see a man run out of the new rubble, back on fire. He dropped to the ground, rolling while his voice became more and more desperate and hoarse.

My hands shook, but that was the only part of me that moved. After an eternity, he stopped rolling. After another, his voice finally quieted. All that was left by this point was a ball of fire on the asphalt, not even person-shaped anymore.

"There's nothing you could've done," the old man said, voice barely audible over the sounds of explosions.

I didn't say anything – couldn't say anything. I was frozen, huddled under the thin wooden table.

I lost track of how long we laid under there. Every so often, another laser bolt would impact near us and raise the temperature for a few moments. Screams came and went. Eventually, the laser blasts stopped falling. We stayed right where we were as the city's noises of destruction faded, waiting for any sign of Human life – jets, cars, something besides the distant pained or terrified screams.

For a few moments – whether they were seconds, minutes, hours, I couldn't tell – blissful silence returned. Then the screams returned; distant, at first, but gradually they grew closer. The sounds of a few distant laser blasts reached our ears as well. "We gotta move," the man said.

"Harold," his wife said. "It's not safe out there."

"It's not safe here either, Eloise. Those weird sounds over yonder mean they've sent in the infantry, and we sure as hell don't wanna be here when they mosey on over."

"B- But they might not find us if we just-"

"We don't have time to argue, honey. We aren't the youngest people in the world anymore; every minute we stay here is a minute we aren't getting to safety." He scrambled to his feet before turning around and grabbing his wife, hauling her up with him.

That shook me out of my stupor. "Hey, you can't just- just manhandle her like that!"

His gaze snapped to me. "This is life or death, girlie. I didn't hurt her and we need to get moving. You can come with us or you can hide right there until this whole place looks like Yahsukie or whatever gobbledygook the Ivans called it. Now, I'll give you five seconds to make the most important decision of your life – you coming or not?"

Just as he stopped speaking, a massive explosion tinged with green and purple bloomed over some nearby buildings. After a moment, I found my voice. "Y- Yeah, I- I'm coming."

He nodded as I stood. "Good. We need to stay in cover – avoid the open streets. Is there an alley behind the bar? Some place you bring in shipments?"

"Y- Yeah, yeah, it's right through the kitchen," I said, pointing back inside. I didn't really look around as I followed him, but even then I could see just how devastated the street was. Several of those big lasers had landed while we hid and the street was full of rubble. The interior was in stark contrast to the exterior; while there were a couple chairs toppled over and a bowl of free popcorn scattered onto the wooden floor, everything was more or less intact. The bar wasn't the busiest before the attack and it showed. The five or six people still here were all hiding under tables, just as we were outside.

"Listen up!" Harold shouted. "The enemy is coming and we're getting out of here. Come with us or don't, but make your choice now!" Without waiting for a response from anyone, he continued on, bursting through the swinging doors to the kitchen. We were right behind him, as was a younger couple that made up their minds quickly.

Harold stormed through the kitchen, stepping over a fallen forty-pound bag of french fries before reaching the back door which was still ajar from when the cooks got out of here. We filed out into the alleyway – a dingy thing only a few feet wider than a delivery truck. One side was completely blocked, the bistro a few doors down had been hit and debris from the brick building spilled out all over the place. The other end was mostly open, though a little Volkswagen had crashed into the corner of one of the buildings on the far end. He led us forward, hands clenched into fists as he crept beside the wall. After pausing for a moment to look, he rushed us across the street.

Gunshots echoed alongside the sounds of alien weaponsfire, but before long, it was just the alien weapons that we could hear. The next alleyway was much like the last; strewn with debris and blocked at one end. We cut through a gas station on one of the sides, picking up another straggler on the way. Out front, it looked like old pictures of Stalingrad during the war; buildings bombed out, rubble blocking the street, cars melted into mush. We kept going, trying to get as far away from the encroaching noises of death as possible.

Another couple survivors joined us as we passed the ruins of an apartment building on the way to the next alley. The sounds of gunfire once again reached our ears, but were silenced just as quickly as the last time we'd heard it. Then, in the next block, it all went to shit. Up high, we heard the sounds of jets roaring. Looking up, however, revealed that they were not jets. "Get to cover!" Harold shouted, grabbing his wife and darting inside a building.

I was only a pace or two behind him with the others behind me still. I looked back as I entered the rubble, only to see the sweater-clad boy get cut down by alien weaponry just outside. I gasped, but kept my footing on the loose stones and wooden shards strewn over the carpeted floor. With a loud bang, Harold kicked open a door and I followed him into the apartment – right behind the couple from the bar. Just as I did, the grotesque and misshapen form of the jetpack alien rocketed down to the floor.

I dove behind the kitchen counter, scrambling on my hands and knees. I yanked open the cabinet doors under the sink and shoved myself inside. With a little luck and a lot of help from the yoga classes I took, I managed to squeeze inside amongst the various chemicals and mildew before shutting the door again.

The world was blissfully silent for about two seconds, and then those horrible jet engines entered the room again. I heard some other sounds – almost like the creature wanted to vomit? Before it ripped a door open. A girl screamed before she was silenced by the alien gun. The same moment it fired, another door slammed open and I heard a furious roar along with rapid bootfalls.

The weapon shot again, but the bootfalls continued. Then there were several meaty thunks along with another roar. The gun shot again, shortly followed by an even bigger clank and then a messy-sounding splatter. A loud thunk echoed through the floor, followed by labored and heavy breathing.

"Is anyone else still alive?" Harold's voice asked. "You can come out. It's dead."

It took me a moment, but I finally worked up the courage to crack the door. Instantly, the stench of burned flesh invaded my nostrils and I almost gagged. "H- Here," I muttered, extracting myself from my hiding place and tipping over several bottles of chemicals in the process. Once I got to my feet, I saw Harold standing over the body of that thing, just as dead as advertised. He held a chunk of concrete in his hand, one end stained with dull yellow splotches of blood that matched indents on the thing's caved-in and mangled head.

After a half-moment's glance, he simply chucked the concrete away, the weapon coming to rest next to its victim. "First time with an alien… and a rock," he muttered. "We have to keep moving, this has already delayed us enough." He marched off into one of the rooms and opened the window, beginning to climb out with his wife right behind him. I spared one last glance to the couple who lay dead in the supply closet in front of me. I'd met them only an hour or so earlier when I'd taken their orders; a caesar salad and a patty melt. In the end, I only had time for the glance.

My hands shook as I climbed out the window, but I didn't have time to think or reflect. He just pushed us onwards. I didn't even know where we were going; I just had to hope he did. We ducked into another alleyway, this being the first that wasn't blocked off. When we got to the other end, we finally saw a good sight.

Policemen, armed with rifles and armored in riot gear.

They herded a group of people ahead of us into a subway entrance and we weren't far behind. Just as we crested the top of the stairs, another half-dozen police ran up to the surface, all carrying their rifles. The station was dark, only illuminated by the flashlights and phones of the fifty people down here. Over on the rails, I saw a work truck being stuffed beyond full with people, a pair of policemen helping the last person aboard while others begged to be let on.

The moment the man was seated, one of the passengers pounded on the cab of the truck and it took off down the tracks, disappearing into the blackness of the tunnel with probably a dozen people in the bed. Just as we figured out what was going on, gunshots rang from above. The final two policemen rushed up the stairs and we were left without anyone to tell us what to do.

From my spot on the floor, I gazed up to the surface – to the blinding light above. At that moment, I realized that I did all I could.

I just hoped it was enough.

Elsewhere

/-\ Blake Belladonna /-\

Donning the armor was a bit of a pain.

On top of that, even their lightest variant was simply much more constricting than I was used to. The only upside to this situation was that my particular biology meant that standard helmets wouldn't work for me, so I was allowed to not wear one. On top of that, I was obviously allowed to bring Gambol Shroud, given its sheer utility and the fact that I'd refused to go into battle without it.

We piled into the Skyranger as quick as we could, even with my fumbling about with the armor. Only a few minutes after the announcement was made, we were airborne. I'd already been introduced to Strike Six, even if I hadn't been formally assigned to them. I had a feeling I was going to be assigned to Strike One, though they were badly mauled a few days ago while assaulting an alien base in Brazil.

So that's why, even with one of their regular members still recovering from her wounds in the UFO raid last week, I was sent out with Yang's team. The only other non-regular member was a Ukrainian Engineer – Lance Corporal Kulyk – who was filling in for the third man. He'd apparently worked with them before, so it was a natural fit.

Only a few minutes after dust-off, Bradford spoke to us over comms. "Alright, this ain't gonna be pretty," he said. "We've got confirmation of two assault carriers and four terror ships touching down. We're scrambling Strike Three in the second Skyranger to back you up, but you'll be on your own for a little over thirty minutes due to unfortunate timing with maintenance. The Marines are already mobilizing to contain the outbreak as best they can, but there isn't a whole lot they can do right away. Other than any quick-reaction units, I wouldn't expect any backup from the local military on this one. I'll forward any updates to Lieutenant Miller. Good luck, Strike Six, you'll need it."

His voice cut off, leaving us to our own thoughts. "Fuck," Murray said. "There's gonna be over a company of the bastards…"

That's a lot, I thought. If they're anything like Remnant, that's two hundred aliens, maybe more. Worse, these weren't just mindless Grimm – a team of higher-ranked Combat School students could probably handle that many beowolves under the right circumstances. I looked around at the assembled troops – Yang was the only other person here with aura and she would barely qualify as a first-year in a Combat School. I was going to have to do the vast majority of the heavy lifting.

"Alright, listen up!" Spitfire shouted. "The AO is gonna be absolutely crawling with X-Rays. We can't afford to get bogged down anywhere so keep moving. You heard how many terror ships there are, so expect lots of chryssalids. For the love of all that's holy, do not get close to them – we'll have enough zombies to deal with, I don't wanna lose one of my guns while we're at it! So buckle up, keep movin' and shoot every single alien you see. Today, we're gonna show these xeno sons of bitches that they could not have picked a worse enemy than the Human race!"

"Oorah!" the others shouted.

I sat back, stunned. Most of his short speech was something I could agree with – even get pumped up by. Then the very end sounded like something one of those insane Poachers would shout to a mob driven only by hate.

Before I could actually react, though, the lights flashed red. "Sixty seconds out!" the pilot said over the intercom.

"Alright, final checks, people!" Spitfire shouted. "The Skyranger won't be here to keep us company, AO's too hot. Big Sky's gonna drop us off at street level, then it's up to us. Looks like local special forces have moved in and secured the top floor of a parking garage in the AO, we'll escort any survivors there for evac."

Only a few moments after he finished speaking, the airship shook, slamming down to the ground. The light flashed green. I was already out of my seat when the ramp dropped, Spitfire shouting for us to go, go, go! I gripped my rifle tightly, ears on a swivel as I ran out of the Skyranger.

I was first-out – quicker than the smoke, even. I saw a pack of Sectoids just sliding into cover to the side, raised my rifle as I charged towards them, and fired. I was no Ruby Rose, but I still managed to down two of the five before I vaulted over the waist-high brick wall they were using as cover. Before they react, I had my sword out, gun hanging by its sling while I cut them to ribbons.

I wiped my blade on a nearby tablecloth, getting the yellow gunk off before sheathing the smaller portion and stowing it on my back. "Got five," I said over comms. A frown crawled onto my face as I looked to the right and saw the motionless and singed form of what was probably a little girl. Another person I was too slow to save, I thought. "Sectoids," I finally said, turning around. I readied myself with a deep breath.

I'd been in enough overrun settlements to know this wouldn't be the only body I'd see tonight.

The squad set off with me on point, towards the closest-sounding plasmafire. That meant there were still survivors that could be saved. The Skyranger lifted off as we ran, the sounds of gunfire joining those of alien plasma. I took to the rooftops, sniping a pack of Floaters I saw in the distance. Even with my relative inexperience with rifles, the fact that they were beam lasers made it stupidly easy to adjust mid-shot and at least get a glancing blow.

I crawled along the walled edge of a building's rooftop, already ahead of the others. A plasma bolt from one of their terror ships had hit this building just right to only knock out a section of it while the rest was still more than stable enough to support my weight. As such, it made a perfect observation platform. I crept up to a section with a few missing bricks and peered through the makeshift periscope. On the street below, I saw a metro station entrance guarded by several soldiers in black armor… which said police on it.

My confusion was immense, but I didn't have time to dwell on another Earth-ism, especially not when there were dead soldier-police with obvious plasma wounds on them. "Contact!" one of them shouted, raising their rifle and firing at something obscured by the bricks I was using as cover. The others in his vicinity swiveled and opened fire from cover as green bolts of plasma responded.

I cued my mic. "Spitfire, I've encountered local forces. They're engaged, permission to assist?"

"Negative, Private, wait for us. We'll be there in twenty seconds!"

"...Roger that," I said, frowning. After a moment, I crawled to a different vantage point, trying to get eyes on the X-Rays that were attacking this station. Finally, I did – a pair of Mutons were at the end of the block, firing from the cover of a ruined building. To their side, I saw a trio of Thin Men leap up onto the roof of their building and start running to flank the defenders of the metro.

Without bothering to wait for confirmation, I raised my rifle and opened fire, spearing the first infiltrator straight in the head. The remaining two scrambled for cover as their cousin's body vanished in a cloud of toxic fog. "Six here," I said over comms. "Two Thin Men on the roof overlooking the metro station and two Mutons at street-level."

"Roger, they see you?"

Plasma impacted the wall next to me. "I'd say so," I said, rolling to the side. I could hear the whine of more lasers being fired from the street and popped to my feet. One of the Thin Men had taken a hit, but not a fatal one and both were scrambling to reposition. I didn't have a good shot, so I snapped to the Mutons, one of which was peeking out to fire. I only grazed it, but that did force it back to its hidey-hole for just a moment longer.

"I'm moving to flank the Mutons!" I shouted, taking off at a sprint. One of the Thin Men shot globs of plasma at me, but I bent and twisted my body out of the way, shooting the last few rounds in my magazine in hopes of suppressing the alien.

"Six, hold on!" Spitfire shouted over comms.

I didn't respond, merely stowing my rifle on my back and whipping out Gambol Shroud. I vaulted over the brick lip of the building, falling three stories to the street below and impaling one of the Mutons just as it was throwing a plasma grenade. It spiraled out of the alien's hand, landing at the feet of its friend, who quickly dove behind hard cover.

I simply put the dying Muton's body between myself and the explosive. The second it was safe, I charged the remaining alien, catching it off-guard. It tried to punch me, but I simply side-stepped its massive armored fist. My blade flashed upwards, severing the Muton's arm, before coming right back down and removing its head. It died with nary a whimper and I was gone before the body even hit the ground.

Running back to the others, I was just in time to witness an AP grenade landing on the rooftop occupied by the two remaining Thin Men. It promptly exploded, spraying clouds of toxins everywhere in the air. After a moment, the smoke cleared and the last two bodies of the Thin Men were draped over the remains of the brick wall three stories up.

"Everyone alright? Rookie, you hit?" Spitfire asked.

"Negative, didn't lay a finger on me," I said, stowing Gambol Shroud and reloading my rifle.

"Roger, regroup at the subway."

"Ay-firm," I said, jogging over. It didn't take long to reach the metro stairs, being only a block's distance. A couple of the soldier-police were tending to a wounded comrade, but clearly were out of their depth with the massive burns he'd suffered. A quartet of them still stood guard, rifles in hand. Two of them took notice of me as I approached; even though their faces were hidden behind opaque visors, their body language still conveyed great surprise.

"...Holy shit…" one of them muttered. "You're the girl from Harvard. Who the hell are you with? I've never seen that armor or laser guns before."

"Classified," I said. "What are you doing here? It's just a metro station."

"Normally, yes, but we're using it to evacuate civilians. Even with the power out, you can still drive a railroad truck down there and get people out. The tunnels are also a lot safer than the surface."

"Don't be so sure about that," Spitfire said, walking up beside me with the rest of the strike team. "The aliens usually send chryssalids on these terror missions and they can burrow through the ground."

"Chryssalids?" the soldier-policeman asked.

"You really don't wanna know," I said. "If it's got four legs, two arms, and no gun, it's a priority target. Especially if civilians are around."

Spitfire nodded. "How many people are here? Any wounded?"

"Lots of wounded; mostly minor cuts or abrasions, but a few major ones too. We tried to get the worst out first, but-"

He was interrupted by the sound of gunfire; close gunfire. Plasma rounds sailed out from behind the ruined buildings only two blocks away, partially melting already cracked bricks with their mere passing. A moment later, two civilians – one holding a pistol – darted out as well, covering behind the hood of a wrecked car.

Just as they came to a stop, I heard something strange. Chittering and rubbing of bones as well as the earth being shoved aside. I took cover beside Spitfire as we waited for the aliens down the street to show themselves. "There's something wrong," I said.

"No shit, there're civvies downrange!"

"No, I mean… there's something wrong here. Under us."

The noise got louder and louder, even with all the background noise of gun and plasma weaponry going off. Spitfire glanced at me, tilting his blue helmet just a touch. "The hell do you mean under us?" Before I could answer, I heard concrete break open, and everyone heard the screams of civilians coming from inside the metro station. "Shit! Two, Three, Four, stay here! Five, Six, clear the hole!"

I nodded, pulling away just ahead of Yang. I didn't even bother using the stairs properly, simply sliding down the railing instead and bypassing several civilians who were scrambling up them. The screams had only increased by the time I reached the barely-lit station, making it hard to hear what I needed to. The only consolation was that my natural night vision compensated more than enough…

…at least, enough to see the horde of chryssalids butchering and impregnating everyone still inside the metro.

The crowd was bunched up like a herd of sheep as the aliens picked off more and more of their members. Those at the edge fought, but succumbed after only a few seconds in their stupidly one-sided struggles. The corpses far past the perimeter of chryssalids started to shamble to their feet, eyes blank and lifeless.

I was only frozen for a brief moment before leaping into action. In a heartbeat, my rifle was stowed and Gambol Shroud was in my hands once more; the next, it was inside a chryssalid lunging for a civilian. I didn't even spare him a glance, jumping into the fray to kill more of the alien monsters.

As I hacked and slashed them apart, I realized this wasn't much different from killing younger Grimm – no tactics, no misdirection, just numbers and blind bloodlust. My ribbon wrapped around an alien's claws, yanking it away just an inch from a civilian's face and I skewered it with my other blade. Before the body hit the ground, I was already upon another, and then another. I moved as quickly and as lethally as I could to save as many civilians as possible. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Yang's armored form finally descend the stairs and start blasting with her laser shotgun. Each burst of ruby-red light spelled the end for one more alien.

Even so, there were simply too many for her and she was forced to give ground after only half-a-minute of fighting. Finally, I'd cut through the dozen chryssalids directly attacking the civilians and I leaped to aid Yang in fending off her portion of the horde. I only managed to kill a few before I had to turn away again, but in the end, I also drew off several more of the bugs, easing the pressure just that little bit. Back with the civilians, the zombies were now encroaching on them.

These… did not feel like Grimm when I was killing them.

The chryssalids themselves were so inhuman and monstrous that it didn't even register that they weren't Grimm. The zombies, though? They were literally Humans – or at least, they were. Every slash, every swipe, and every death… it felt like I was back with him, with all the bodies lying around. But at the same time, I saw the civilians, now numbering only a dozen or so. I saw their fear and I saw their hope that I could get them out of here.

It was enough. I put aside my unease and just kept cutting. In the end, Yang got the last kill. I bent down and grabbed a discarded coat, wiping the blood and bits of viscera off my blade before turning around. "Is everyone al-" I eyed the bodies on the floor, which I'd just personally made sure stayed dead. "...Is anyone wounded?" I amended.

One of the survivors stepped forward – an older man dressed in blue jeans and a brown button-up. "No, no they didn't get to us yet. How the hell we gettin' outta here? There an evac planned?"

Gunshots rang out above. "We're working on it." I cued my mic. "Actual, this is Six. Confirmed chryssalids in the metro, it's not safe for civilians here."

"Damnit," he muttered. "Alright, bring 'em up. They'll be safer on the move than they will be hunkered down there."

"Roger that," I said. "Listen up! We're heading back to the surface. Follow us, do what we say, and you'll get out of here alive! Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am," the man said. The others were much more shaken than he was; most had hands shaking at their sides or were staring at one of the many bodies strewn about. However, as Yang got the crowd moving, I noticed one of the survivors was not focused on the carnage. She, a waitress dressed in plain black pants, tee shirt, and an apron, stared at me instead. The worst part was, I'd seen her face before.

Aside from the single cyan-colored eye, I saw it every time I looked in a mirror.

Well, this is awkward. "Don't ask, it's classified," I lied.

"B- But you're me! And a neko! What the hell is going on?!" she shouted.

I heard more gunshots, as well as more chryssalids tunneling nearby. "You're in the middle of a war zone is what's going on. Now is not the time to be asking questions. Now's the time to get to safety." I jammed my thumb over my back, pointing to the exit.

She opened her mouth to continue, but before she could say anything, the concrete ground next to her cracked. I shoved her aside and immediately stabbed the emerging chryssalid in the brain. Other cracks formed in the concrete further into the tunnel. "Go! Get out of here!" I shouted over my shoulder.

After a moment, I heard her turn tail and run up the stairs. Good, I thought as half-a-dozen more aliens emerged from their burrows. One less source of collateral damage. The first chryssalid charged, leaping the last few feet. I sidestepped and bisected it. The others were right behind and I slid through the legs of another monster, bisecting this one vertically instead. I had to dodge with a shadow clone to avoid strikes from two of the glowing-eyed demons, which simply made it easier to decapitate both of them. The last two tried to pincer around, one attacking one side and the other flanking around. I leaped towards the one on the right and put my scabbard through its chest while my kusarigama swung around and decapitated the other. All in all, the engagement lasted thirty seconds. At most.

I only spent a single moment admiring my handiwork – mainly as one last apology to the dozens I was too slow to save – before heading topside. I nearly bowled Yang over as she was descending the stairs again to come get me – how thoughtful of her. We reached the surface in no time at all, emerging behind the small crowd of civilians with those soldier-policemen standing at the flanks. Other-me was there as well, still staring at me in complete confusion. The rest of the team was standing over the corpses of several Sectoids; only one was killed by ballistics, while we clearly got the rest with our lasers.

"Alright team," Spitfire said over comms. "Three, Four, and Five, I want you up front with me. Two, you're rearguard with the cops, Six, I want you up high – use your mobility to help us solve any problems that crop up."

We all gave our affirmations and got to our places. I scaled the nearest building – the one with the Thin Man corpses – and kept a look out as we herded the civilians through the rubble. We worked out a system pretty quickly; I'd jump ahead to scout things out while our charges hunkered down under the protection of the police and Bear, our rocketeer. After I got a good bead on the situation, Actual would organize a sweep through the sector to clear out any alien forces present – those I didn't get to first, at least. After the area was clear, the civilians would be moved onwards to their next cover.

There were more than a couple scares with surprise chryssalids, but thanks to the soldier-police and our number two, they didn't touch any more civilians. However, as time went on, the bugs got more and more common. It got to the point where most of the alien patrols we encountered were chryssalids. Horrifying implications aside, at least I could deal with them easily when they were out in the open.

We'd marched about two miles through various rubble and wrecked cars before we finally stumbled across anything resembling good news. The cavalry finally arrived, though the other strike team was set to push from another angle, aiding local forces in a counterattack to head off the bulk of the enemy ground units. On top of that, we ran into something we hadn't heard in a good while. Gunfire, and not from our group. At first, we assumed it was from the aforementioned counterattack by local forces, but a quick check of the map revealed that their push was on the other side of the city. But here, filling the air, was not only the loud sounds of automatic rifle fire, but also the slow rhythmic pounding of a big-bored machinegun.

Someone was alive, and quite insistent on staying that way.

I once again went ahead, confident that the group could hold their own for a few minutes if need be. My movements were cautious but steady – I'd pause for a few moments after landing on a building, trying to scope out the local area with my enhanced hearing. If I heard any aliens, I'd quickly dispatch them before moving on. The machinegun got louder and louder as I approached; eventually, I was able to see the path of carnage it wrought. Over a dozen chryssalids were strewn about the street, their bodies in various states of vicious disassembly.

Looking down the pockmarked street, I saw a sight for sore eyes: the parking garage. Soldiers moved inside of the building as well as just out front. Some reinforced the makeshift barricades there, but most had taken up firing positions. A trio of chryssalids darted out from one of the ruined buildings, charging the line of guns head-on. The soldiers snapped their rifles to the targets with practiced ease before sending rounds downrange. The odd part was, they didn't seem to be aiming for the aliens themselves – rather the ground in front of them.

Abnormally large rounds skidded across the asphalt, bouncing once or twice before exploding right at the bugs' spiked legs. They were ripped asunder, just like the corpses of their cousins before them. It took me only a moment to realize the soldiers were using miniature grenade launchers rather than conventional rifles. Only a few months ago, I'd've balked at such an idea, but now, having seen how ineffective conventional rifles were against these creatures, I couldn't help but simply agree with their deployment.

Eventually, the others caught up after I'd stopped advancing, choosing to aid the defenders with my laser rifle when a larger group of chryssalids exited the ruins ahead. When it was safe to do so, we advanced on the broken street, advancing towards the evac point. We made it just after another group of bugs showed itself and we had to stop to hold the line while the civilians and soldier-police ran inside the garage for cover.

Once they were dispatched, we finally joined them inside. The garage itself had been spared the effects of the plasma bombardment and was mostly intact. Soldiers and doctors ran around the interior – still half-filled with cars – trying to get supplies to the perimeter or civilians to the roof. On the other side of the garage, the heavy machinegun roared to life once more – no doubt repelling yet another attack by the creatures.

For now, though, we were allowed a short respite. The Skyranger had dropped off supplies for us on the roof. We all moved up there and began switching out our depleted power packs for fresh ones, grabbing more grenades or rockets, and chugging bottles of water. I'd just thrown my empty bottle away when a familiar face cropped up yet again. There she was, the me of this world, staring at me from afar. She was covered in a fine layer of dust by now, her clothes had several small rips in them, and there was an abrasion on her forearm. But still, we locked eyes and the world seemed to drop away for just a moment.

Her hair began to sway in the breeze, and then flutter as it got stronger. I looked up and saw a proper airship descending from above; painted black and propelled by giant propellers instead of jets like I was used to seeing. She didn't even spare the airship a single glance, walking towards me instead.

I moved towards her as well, but found a hand on my shoulder holding me in place. Glancing back, I saw the bare, pale face of Spitfire. "We still have a job to do."

"I'll be quick."

After a moment, he grunted and released me. It was only a few more steps before her and I were right across from each other. I could see her hands shaking at her side; the barely contained panic in her eyes as she only stood before me. "Who… are you?" she whispered.

By now, the airship had landed on the roof of the garage and the ramp had dropped. Civilians and the soldier-police were being shepherded inside, with one of the attending soldiers already in motion to bring her aboard as well. I'd have to be quick. "I'm you," I said. "From a much different place and much different circumstances, but I'm still you."

The soldier finally reached her and started pulling her away. "That- that doesn't make sense!" she shouted, struggling in vain. Her body was clearly exhausted and he was much stronger to start out with. "You can't be- that-! It just doesn't make sense!"

I didn't get to hear the rest of her rant as she was sat down and buckled up into the airship's passenger bay. Within a minute, the ramp was up once more and it took to the air. After watching it go for just a moment, I turned around and headed back to my team.

Only five minutes later, we'd be leaving the safety of the parking ramp, headed back out to search for more survivors and to kill as many aliens as we could in the process. We found plenty of aliens, at least. Three hours later, we were finally back in the Skyranger, headed home. The mission was a success.

A success, at least, if you only counted the fact that people were alive at the end.

(A/N) Aaaand we have the Catgirl's non-cat Twin making her first appearance! She'll have quite a few PoVs, but she won't be a major character for a while. I have plans for her, but they need to simmer. Well, actually, plans for her and Mr Harold "I can beat an alien to death with a rock"... I'm only now realizing that I never actually gave him a last name, at least not one I can remember. Oh well, he's just Harold now. Anyways, I was cackling like a little goblin when I had that idea. "Oh, you crossed untold light years and rained death upon the Earth? Well too bad, I'm a monkey and I've got a rock, it's time to meet your fucking maker."

Also tried to give Earth!Blake a bit of a very early Sarah Connor vibe; just an everywoman at her shitty job that had shit thrown at her for reasons she couldn't comprehend. And yes, she'll have her T-800 In The Factory moment, but, again, patience. Also fun fact: during a lot of Remnant!Blake's scenes, I was listening to the Terminator 1 Kyle Reese Dreams of Future War OST over and over again.

That's about all I had for this week, here's an invite code for my Discord if you wanna join 3jf9w8u and I'll see ya next time!