XCOM: The Advent Directive

by Xabiar

Australia has been annexed, the United Nations is in chaos, the world is under siege and the Ethereals have taken the field. Facing the full might of the Ethereal Collective, the Commander must rally XCOM, the newly formed ADVENT, and several other allies and rivals to unite the divided nations by any means necessary, for failure now will mean the fall of humanity once and for all.

16. The Final Crusade

The Final Crusade

---

Switzerland, ADVENT Command

The group consisted of many of the people who had been at the initial closed meeting between ADVENT and XCOM, but now they were joined by the various Generals, Admirals, and Commanders that made up the ADVENT military. The Commander of XCOM and Commander Christiaens were at the forefront of the semi-large briefing room, facing a small crowd that stood at attention with a holographic projector displaying a blue, glowing map of the Middle East before them.

To his right and Laura's left stood Patricia and Weekes respectively. The plan had been conceptualized by all of them, and the Commander was confident it would hold up, especially since they had so many tools at their disposal.

But the Middle East was only one part of the offensive, and ironically probably the least dangerous.

The strikes against the aliens held far more danger.

"Welcome and thank you all for arriving on time," Laura began, stepping forward. "The operation that will be undertaken in the next twenty-four hours will likely be one of the most important, and dangerous, in human history. Myself and Chief Weekes have been closely working with XCOM during this time, as this is one point where we cannot afford mistakes."

The Commander nodded, and also stepped forward. "The operation we have designated as 'Deus Vult' will have two primary objectives, and multiple angles of attack within each one. The first objective, is the complete subjugation and capture of the Arab nations that stand against ADVENT, and by extension, our survival."

He began pointing at the holomap. "The targets will be Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, Turkmenistan, the United Arab Emirates, Yemen, Oman, and Pakistan." He paused, and noted impressively that there wasn't any background chatter as he revealed their goal. Given how high-ranking many of these men and women were, they had likely expected something similar.

"Yemen and Oman will likely be final cleanup operations," Laura continued, nodding to one of the women in the room. "Thanks to the Israeli ADVENT Legion, we control the centers of power and just have to deal with the final military remnants. The other good news is that Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan have been convinced to stand down and assimilate as part of ADVENT."

"That still leaves us with a few nations to capture," the Commander warned. "Pakistan, as a nuclear power, is the largest threat to ADVENT. India has been working with us in preparation for our attack. It will have to be handled delicately, and since we know that Pakistan is heavily monitoring the situation thanks to the Intelligence Bureau and ADVENT Intelligence, there is a chance that they will recognize this as a final offensive and feel they are out of options."

He clasped his hands behind his back. "As a result, Pakistan and their nuclear arsenal must be neutralized as soon as possible. To do that, both the Prime Minister and the entire Pakistani Defense Council will need to be taken out in short order, as either one has the capability to order the launch of nuclear missiles." He paused. "In theory, disrupting the chain of command should be enough to prevent nuclear launches due to supposedly strict protocols. In practice, if either the Prime Minister or Defense Council feel they are at risk of falling, protocols will mean nothing." He nodded towards a man raising a hand. "Yes?"

"How will this be accomplished without either of them acting then?" The officer asked. "Multiple strike teams? That would still give them time to react."

"Yes, it will," the Commander agreed. "Fortunately, we don't have to rely on luck." He waved Patricia forward, who was clad in her dark red Aegis armor, wearing her helmet for good measure.

"Patricia Trask, Head of the XCOM Psionic Division," she introduced herself. "This is where I come in." She pointed to the map. "I will be deployed first to Islamabad, where the Prime Minister is currently residing. The Pakistani military does not have any defense against psionics, so they will pose little threat to me. I will capture the Prime Minister, extract the locations and names related to the nuclear arsenal from his mind, and secure their nuclear football, from there we can determine the locations of all nuclear stockpiles."

She pointed to a different part of the map. "With the locations established, multiple Lancer and Shieldbearer teams will prepare to take out the stockpiles, and I will deploy to Rawalpindi, where the Pakistani military command is. I will then extract as much information as is needed from the command staff, then terminate the entire base."

"Once Patricia provides us with the relevant codes, we will then use the protocols to order their nuclear submarine, or submarines, to surface," Laura continued. "And with the ones in command with the authorization to launch the missiles dead, the strikes against the nuclear stockpiles will begin and the Russian ADVENT Legion will march on the prominent cities in Pakistan and Afghanistan."

"The neutralization of the Pakistani nuclear threat will be the signal to begin the rest of the operation," the Commander said, motioning to Saudi Arabia. "I will lead the attack on Riyadh, along with one of the Israeli ADVENT Garrisons, while the rest of the Legion secures other points of interest in Saudi Arabia."

"In the meantime, the majority of the American Legion deployed here will take Turkmenistan," Laura said. "We will also receive some assistance from Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan in accomplishing this."

"It should be made clear what our objectives are," Weekes stated, speaking for the first time. "Let there be no ambiguity: The time for surrender has long passed. This is about the complete decimation of the ones opposed to ADVENT. Our goal is to completely annihilate the opposing militaries by any means necessary. We no longer negotiate with enemies of the State. We are not capturing any soldiers, we are killing them. The only surrender that will be accepted are soldiers who throw down their arms. Any others you are permitted to terminate upon engagement."

"We will not risk any portion of the leadership of the Middle East surviving," the Commander nodded. "The governments and leadership are not to be captured, nor is any surrender to be accepted. Those who are tasked with executing the governments will do nothing less. There will be no trial or capture. They have been afforded many chances to surrender, and the time for mercy has passed."

Laura gave a slight frown, and glanced briefly at the Commander. "While harsh, that is correct. The only exceptions will be children, who are to be brought into custody. All other officials who are connected to the Pakistani, Afghanistan and Turkmenistan governments, and the Saudi Royal family are to be executed on sight. This doubly applies for the entire military leadership. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Commander!" All of them shouted instantly.

The corners of the Commander's lips twitched. It was somewhat melancholic that the circle had come to an end here. While necessary at the time, he had ultimately been the cause of their fall into what they existed today. He'd made the mistake the first time by focusing on the Caliphate. Now though...when they were done, hopefully something better could be built. "Good. That is the first objective of this operation. The second is arguably more important, and far more dangerous: An initial retaliation against the aliens."

The holomap flashed and it was replaced with an image of the state of Oregon. "There will be three major components to this operation," he continued. "This first is the reestablishing of supply lines for Portland. The Sargon commanding the alien forces there has surrounded the city and cut off access. The American ADVENT Legion will lead the attack with XCOM support. With Portland secure, we have at least a better chance of repelling the alien advance."

The holomap flashed to Australia. "XCOM and ADVENT Intelligence are coordinating in Australia to act on information where the aliens have lessened security around Mackay, a city on the coast. Both my agent on the ground and the current leader of the Resistance believe it's primed for an unexpected strike to get the civilian population free. Transports to evacuate them have been sent to Resistance areas of control, and they are preparing to actually move on the city and evacuate the civilians in an efficient manner."

"The final strike will be against the lone alien stronghold of Nakashibetsu," Laura finished. "With XCOM support, we believe that the aliens won't be able to maintain control of the city and it will give us undisputed, if temporary, control over the entirety of Japan. To accomplish this we will be deploying the new Purifier teams, and our intent is to reduce their fortifications and army to nothing."

"You've been appraised of their volatility," Weekes reminded them. "But I need to repeat, keep all your soldiers well away from the fire once it starts. The only ones who should be near the units are the XCOM psions protecting them."

"MDU's will also be deployed in all appropriate locations," Laura updated. "Chief of Engineering Feng has cleared them for deployment, and they will provide a much-needed versatility to our forces across the globe."

"Are there questions?" The Commander asked, looking around.

"What happens if we encounter the Battlemaster?" One officer asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "Portland is near his territory, so to speak."

The Commander figured it was a fair question. "We have a contingency in that event. However, in the event that any team encounters the Battlemaster or any other Ethereal, you are to pull back and XCOM will assume control of the operation."

He looked around once more. "Any more questions?"

No one said anything. "In that case, each of you will break into the respective teams for the various assaults. Kilian, Emanuel, Betos, come with me to go over the assault on Saudi Arabia in more detail."

"The rest of you stay in place while I give each team specific instructions," Laura continued as the three commanding officers broke off to follow the Commander. "Good luck to everyone, but now it rests on you."

---

Australian Resistance Command, Northern Territory

To the best of her knowledge, this was the first time Abby could remember Harper's Resistance team actually all meeting in the same place. She'd seen each of them around occasionally, but not in the same place. Now all of them were here, as well as Hari May, the other XCOM Intelligence agent, the Chronicler (still called Lucas by everyone else) and two ADVENT Intelligence agents, Joseph Falka and Illena Desora.

She'd never met any of them before, but she wasn't exactly thrilled that yet another former EXALT agent was now here.

All of them were standing around the wooden table, a map of Australia laid out on it, where the target of interest was marked in red sharpie and a pin stuck in the center for good measure. "Mackay is our target," Harper began. "Thanks to a source of Abby's, we have been able to confirm that the aliens have left themselves vulnerable in the city. Abby?"

You'd better be right. She thought towards the Chronicler, given that he was her 'source'. As helpful as he was being right now, she still didn't entirely trust him, nor was she comfortable with keeping him a secret from Zhang.

Don't worry, agent, I know I am.

She shivered.

He still did that, and she hated it every time.

"I've been able to confirm myself, and Agent May can back me up," Abby began. "For whatever reason, the aliens have been moving around the majority of their force, with at least some being sent to the larger cities like Sydney and others to the south."

"It's not inconceivable that they are also moving some to help secure the other Oceania states," May added, tapping the map. "They've been having trouble with the guerilla forces there as well. We've been doing more reconnaissance work, and thus our impact has been minimal, so naturally, the aliens want to move resources to where they're needed."

"In the end, the reasons don't matter," Abby continued, refocusing on the map. "There are at least one hundred aliens, which are mostly standard Mutons, and a small portion of Runianarch soldiers, likely Vitakarian. Cobrarian if we're unlucky, but we didn't see any when we were there."

"The more accurate estimates are between one-twenty-five and one-fifty," May added, glancing around the table. "With the majority being Mutons, I think that we have more than enough to defeat them."

"With the weapons agents Falka and Desora brought us, I agree," Ahri Colonan, one of Harper's best guerilla commandos, nodded. "We have more than ten times that number."

"But our soldiers are not expendable," Harper pointed out. "From what I've seen, the aliens can replenish their numbers easily. We can't. We still have to be smart about this, but now that we're getting actual ADVENT support, I agree that it's definitely feasible now."

"Always a pleasure," Joseph noted, inclining his head with a smile. "While drawing attention to the Resistance here is dangerous, the time has come to hit them where it hurts. But remember the goal, which is not to take the city."

"Right," Harper nodded. "Evacuate the civilians. Your people will be at the designated point."

"Absolutely," Joseph assured him. "This is part of one of the largest military operations ever undertaken. It will be done. We just have to kill the aliens first."

"That can be easily arranged," Harper said with a smile. "The soldiers are eager to attack, and after we take one city, we'll take the next until only the major ones are left."

"Don't go in arrogant," Abby cautioned, frowning. "We know they have at least four Andromedons, and possibly higher-ranking aliens that we haven't seen. Not to mention there may be Zararch agents seeded with the civilians. I wouldn't put it past them to do that."

"We'll have to take that chance," May shrugged. "We don't have time to take a blood test of every civilian, and I doubt they'll attack when surrounded by armed humans."

"The aliens, like us, prefer to use resources wisely," the Chronicler spoke for the first time, sounding vaguely amused. "If I had to guess, they have far more important usage of such Zararch agents than to place them in random towns."

Abby narrowed her eyes.

Assuming he was insinuating what she thought, that was one concern averted.

"What happens if they begin taking hostages?" Ahri asked. "They will call for help, and we can't afford delays."

There was silence for a few moments. Abby and May exchanged a look, before she looked back to Harper. "That's why we have snipers. We can't exactly stop, because those people will be dead anyway. Hostages shouldn't affect the plan whatsoever."

Ahri looked at her, his face inscrutable, but she was fairly certain he disapproved. "You might be willing to do that, agent, but I don't think the rest of the soldiers will be as willing."

"That, sir, is why we are here," Joseph interrupted smoothly. "We understand that some people have issues making decisions like that. Should a situation arise, one of us will take care of it. We're trained for situations like these, and we will do everything we can to keep the civilians safe…" he shook his head. "That being said, we will not compromise the liberation of one hundred civilians for the sake of ten."

Abby still despised what this was being reduced to, but he was right. She hated that he was right. "This conflict is one of resources and pawns. Like it or not, that's what it is. The more civilians we rescue, the weaker the alien hold here is. The more that live, the higher morale is. The more held in cities, the lower the morale. The people we're trying to free are people, yes, but they are also a crucial resource in this war. And like any resource, sometimes they must be used to achieve a greater result."

Well said, the Chronicler's voice in her mind said, very approvingly she noted.

Joseph raised an eyebrow in surprise. "A very practical outlook, Agent Gertrude. And one all of us in this room should understand."

Harper's lips were set in a grim line as he stared at her unblinkingly. "I won't ever reduce the people I swore to protect as mere resources…but I don't disagree to an extent. Hostages can't stop this operation. Do what you must if the need arises…but I won't order my soldiers to do it."

"You won't have to," Joseph promised, tapping the sniper rifle attached to his back. "Like I said, that is our job."

"Then I'll tell my soldiers to prepare to move out," Harper sighed. "Good work, all of you. And good luck in liberating the city. If we win today, this will send a message to the aliens they won't forget anytime soon."

Assuming everything went according to plan.

The Chronicler seemed oddly relaxed though, and she wondered exactly what part he planned to play in the conflict. He hadn't said anything to her, but she knew he had a plan.

He always seemed to have some kind of angle, and since he'd given her this information, she was expecting he was getting something out of it.

I believe I am getting another city, Agent Gertrude; assisting you in taking it is the least I can do.

Get out of my head, she growled in her mind, knowing he probably wouldn't.

Well, at least that confirmed he was going to help.

Even with ADVENT support, the best in the Resistance, and XCOM and ADVENT agents working together, she believed they'd need all the help they could get.

---

The Praesidium, Barracks

Sierra had never seen everyone quite as active as now. This was being called the biggest operation ever undertaken by XCOM, and knowing the full extent of what was going to happen, she could believe it.

She hated that she felt conflicted of all things.

On one hand, she was going to help hit the aliens in America and free Portland from the supply lock the aliens had imposed on them. She was rather feeling up for killing a few dozen aliens. That was a cause she could fight for and feel like she was doing the right thing.

The only issue she had right now was that XCOM was getting involved in the Middle East war, and from the sounds of things, going to end it.

That bothered her.

Not that the war shouldn't end…but she firmly believed that XCOM should not be interfering in it. It set the wrong precedent. This was ADVENT's problem, and they should be the ones that fix it. Sure, the Commander probably had some justification, and it was admittedly probably a good one, but now that XCOM was getting involved, what was to stop XCOM now intervening whenever they perceived a country as making the 'wrong' decision?

The Commander was being irresponsible here, even though he'd never admit it. He had to know what sort of message this was going to send, and that he'd clearly decided to do it anyway indicated that he either didn't care, or didn't understand.

And she knew the Commander wasn't an idiot.

Not that many people seemed to care one way or the other. The only ones who seemed even vaguely affected were the ones who had originally come from the Middle East like Jamali and Fakhr, who were wisely staying quiet. At least the Commander was smart enough to send them to fight the aliens and not against their home region.

"You seem less excited than I thought you'd be," Jona Mattis commented as she walked up. "I agree, for what it's worth."

Sierra wasn't even bothered by the fact that Jona had apparently read her mind, or at least guessed correctly. At this point having telepaths around was just normal. "Not that I'm complaining about shooting aliens, but really, do we need to curb stomp the Middle East as well? It'd be one thing if it was close, but from what I've heard ADVENT is just laughing off bullets. This is just overkill, pardon the language."

"Hmm, I understand," Jona nodded, as they began walking with the other soldiers to the Hangar. "Although I think that the longer the Middle East is at war, the more people die. The sooner it's ended the better, I think."

"Oh, please, this isn't about the people," Sierra scowled at the woman's naivety. "I've seen enough of the Commander to know that he doesn't think like that at all. This is purely about power and resources. More power ADVENT has, the less people exist to question him. The more resources ADVENT has, the better the invasion can be stopped. If you think that he cares about people, you clearly didn't see him put a damn Illuminati leader in charge of the world." She paused. "No offense."

Jona fortunately seemed to find that funny. "True, true, but while I can't speak for the Commander, that is what I think. So regardless of his reasons, I think it's the right move."

"Yeah, sure, I just don't have the greatest opinion of ADVENT right now, so forgive me for not thinking they have the best interests of the people in mind," Sierra muttered, as they rounded a corner. She briefly checked her pulse rifle out of habit. "And before you ask why, I'm American. Tell you what, if you really want I'll rant to you about it later."

"I don't think you'll have many disagreements with me," Jona said, flipping her helmet in her hands and placing it on her head. "I don't exactly think ADVENT is quite as flawless as it thinks it is."

"You can say that again," Sierra snorted, mimicking her and placing her own helmet on. "Seriously, the way some of those people speak they think they're the second coming of Christ, coming to lift the stupid people into a new enlightened age. Pretentious twats. Stein in particular is the worst."

She could imagine Jona's eyebrow raising when she spoke. "You really want to punch her in, ah, 'her smug little face'?"

"Very much so," Sierra chuckled as they reached the Hangar. "But for today, I'll settle for punching some aliens. Or better yet, shooting them from a distance."

"I'll stick to the back," Jona added. "Telepathy doesn't require getting in close."

"Lucky you," Sierra said. "But leave some for me."

"No promises."

In somewhat clearer spirits, Sierra and the rest of the XCOM soldiers began boarding the skyrangers, ready to exact retribution on the aliens who now believed their army couldn't be stopped. Something all of them were looking forward to clearly proving wrong.

---

Japan, Nakashibetsu

"They're gearing up for a big assault," Duri noted as a squad of four of the new flame units, or "Purifiers" as they were being referred to, walk by. "It's only a matter of time now."

The Purifiers didn't even look like they were operated by Humans. The armor was much, much bulkier than even the Shieldbearer armor he'd seen, and it looked like every single component had been made out of pure alien alloys. There was a very clear difference in quality. ADVENT armor was good, but he knew it was a mixture of alloys and regular Earth metals, which sometimes gave the armor a plasticy look of all things, even if that clearly wasn't the case.

Pure alien alloys had none of that. It reflected light like hardened metal. Purifiers looked more armored, and the armor alone was enough to make it stand at least six inches higher than he was in full armor. It even looked like each gauntlet was fully armored, which had to have been extremely resource intensive, even if it was clearly well-designed.

The helmet looked to have been inspired by the Shieldbearer, but even that was taken to a hardened extreme with each of the angles and shapes being even sharper than before. The armor was colored a dull orange with portions of the helmet and armor being painted black. The only symbol or identifying mark was a bright white word on both shoulders, the upper right chest and twice on the tanks attached to the back.

CIF3

The tanks themselves were octagonal tubes, two extremely close together and made out of the same metal as the rest of the suit. They extended the entire length of the back, and even up to nearly half the head itself. Duri assumed it contained the flammable liquid for the flamethrowers they held in their hands.

The flamethrowers themselves were sleek, symmetrical, and nearly as long as a sniper rifle. The barrel progressively got narrower towards the end, and he noticed there was a smaller tube hovering just below the main barrel. A way to add an additional accelerant? A starter flame? He didn't know enough about flamethrowers to figure it out.

But he noticed that they moved so. Very. Slow. It was somewhat ridiculous, and reminded him of robots, except that he'd seen robots now and they could move at a reasonable speed. These Purifiers just lumbered along, never speeding up. If he didn't know better, he'd say they were moving deliberately slowly because they could explode at any moment.

If only. No, if something really was that dangerous it was unlikely to actually be used. A shame, it could actually be useful against the aliens then. From what he could tell…he couldn't see a point to the Purifiers. He supposed it would be nice if they sent Chryssalids or Berserkers, but in general they just seemed too situational to justify the obvious cost that was being spent on them.

And of course ADVENT was low-key hyping them up, with warnings like "Do not ever approach Purifiers in combat" and "Do not attempt to enter areas being attacked by Purifiers". Someone in ADVENT really feared fire. Not that Duri minded. He would be very sure to steer far away from them if they started working. While the armor would protect him, he figured it was best not to risk it.

"They remind me of machines," Johan noted, scratching his beard. "Kinda neat, if a little creepy."

"What a waste of resources," Cara snorted derisively. "Yes, ADVENT decided we needed a flame unit of all fucking things. How the hell are these guys going to get close enough to cause any damage? Do they have sniper rifle flamethrowers?"

They all chuckled. "Berserkers, maybe?" Kang asked with a shrug. "Or other close range units? I'm just guessing, I feel the usefulness is limited as well."

"Hold on?" Beatriz narrowed her eyes and pushed herself up from the wall as she watched the Purifier team walk away. "What was that on their armor?"

"Sif-Three?" Duri answered. "Probably a unit number of some kind."

"Was it Sif-Three or CIF3? Beatriz demanded suddenly.

"It was spelled CIF3," Duri shrugged. "Does it really matter?"

Beatriz whistled. "What the actual hell, ADVENT? What are you thinking?"

Duri cocked his head, and the rest of them turned to her. "That mean something?" Cara asked.

"I only heard about it a while ago," Beatriz said slowly. "But if it's the same thing, no wonder those guys walk around like they're afraid of exploding. They just might."

Kang turned directly to her. "Explain?"

Beatriz took a breath. "The short answer is, if I remember correctly, CIF3 stands for Chlorine Trifluoride, and it is possibly the most dangerous chemical on the planet. That stuff can burn through concrete, and then the dirt under the concrete, and still keep burning. There are only like, three, ways to safely contain it, if that."

"Oh," Cara said in a small voice. "Well, hopefully they have a water team-"

"Noo," Beatriz interrupted. "Water causes it to explode. You can't put out a CIF3 fire. You can only wait for it to die naturally. The fucking Nazis thought it was too dangerous to use and when the Nazis think that…maybe, just maybe, it might not be a good idea to try it."

"I stand corrected," Kang said appreciatively. "Well, maybe these Purifiers will actually be useful then."

"If they really are using CIF3, then I don't think ADVENT wants to take the city," Beatriz said slowly. "I think they want to destroy it. I don't think even aliens would be able to survive it. If even some of it gets on you, you're dead and suicide by water might actually be a mercy."

"I guess we should pay attention to the warning that we should keep our distance from them," Duri said. "I wish ADVENT would have actually given us this explanation."

"Keep people from panicking, probably," Beatriz guessed. "I mean, if just one of those Purifiers exploded, we're pretty much screwed. It's going to make them priority targets, but if they actually get close enough to the aliens, they will be the ones who are screwed. I don't know even if whatever magic armor the Battlemaster has could survive that."

"The question is getting them close," Duri said. "Even without knowing what they can do, I don't think the aliens are going to like a bunch of heavily armored flame units coming across the no-man's land."

"If I had to guess, I'd say they have a plan," Johan said slowly. "It explains why the units are so armored, and why they walk that way. There is no way ADVENT overlooked that particular flaw in the plan. Maybe Shieldbearer tech?"

"Wouldn't be surprised," Duri answered, idly flipping his helmet in his hands. "If I were in charge, I'd do whatever was needed to make them as safe as possible."

Beatriz chuckled. "There is no such thing as a 'safe' way to handle CIF3. There are only ways that have less risk."

Well, the good news was that it seemed like the Purifiers might actually be useful.

But he was going to keep himself and his team as far away from them as possible. Death by fire was not how he wanted to go.

---

Islamabad, Pakistan

On edge, but not worried.

That was the general impression Patricia got from walking down the streets of Islamabad. There was very little urgency and fear. The people seemed to believe that only when they could easily see the enemy approaching, then that was cause to fear. Until then, they saw no reason not to go about their normal day.

She was dressed as inconspicuously as possible, in appropriate civilian clothing which consisted of tan pants, what felt like incredibly flimsy shoes, and a regular desert sweater over a light shirt. At the suggestion of Laura, she was also wearing an open-faced hijab and shawl, for no other purpose but to blend in. It was also entirely possible that the Pakistani government had acquired pictures of her and were telling people to watch for her.

Very unlikely, but possible.

Stifling as it was, it seemed to be working and she persisted towards the House of the Parliament of Pakistan. Not only was the Prime Minister working out of there most days recently, but it was the majority of the legislature in Pakistan. Should they be eliminated, the government would collapse completely, allowing ADVENT to only have to mop up.

She saw it up ahead now, a very blocky and white building to say the least. Not exactly creative architecture, but she believed she could tell where they were going. It was as if someone had taken the United States Capitol, and turned it into squares. There was one slightly taller square in the middle, and on each side were smaller squares with obvious levels.

What was very good was the high military presence. Excellent.

Pakistani soldiers marched in formation around the building, guards were stationed at every checkpoint, and there were even more in front of every entrance. People were being ID'd and escorted out if they failed to have the correct authorization. Paranoid, but they were smart in fearing an attack. There were probably enough soldiers here to defend it for at least thirty minutes against ADVENT.

Which was far too long if they had nuclear weapons.

But speculation was pointless, as reality was going to set in for these people very shortly. By the time she was finished, everyone in that building would be dead or under her control.

Preferably the former. The mission was very clear.

Extract the information from the Prime Minister, capture him until operation is complete, and execute the entirety of Parliament.

Easy enough.

Four guards had noticed her walking up, and moved to intercept her, visibly preparing to use their rifles. "اعرض عملك" One of them demanded harshly.

They stepped back in surprise when they saw her eyes flash a brief purple and tinted energy manifested around her body, but she took control of their weak minds before they could so much as speak. All that was needed a brief command: Stop.

Impressing that upon them, she took the opportunity to look into their minds, seeing what potential issues the rest might pose. Images, voices, memories and random thoughts all rushed over her in seconds, but she was experienced enough at this that she picked out and focused on the information she needed and stopped the rest with a mental gesture.

Layout, she commanded, and she was bombarded with images of them walking the building, the twists, turns and rooms all coming at her at a speed that would overwhelm a novice telepath, but she was able to construct a useful recreation in her mind, aside from a few black spots where these people had no access.

She would have to impress her will a little harder on the soldiers, as many of them didn't have a firm grasp of English, even if they understood a few words. Not a problem. Forcing the meaning of her commands on them would take slightly more time, but she could work with it.

Let's see…the Prime Minister.

A few mental commands for information about where Prime Minister Rafiq Sangrasi was and…yes…while there wasn't an exact location, he was definitely here, as the security around him was always noted by one of these guards. Good enough, and she could work with that.

She opened her eyes and looked at the men staring at her dully, their minds completely in her grip. "You will pay attention," she said, the psionic undercurrent present in her voice, further driving her words and will into their minds. The spoken word was often more effective for getting her commands across, and she felt them immediately focus everything they had left on her. "In approximately four hours, you will execute every Parliament member in this building with no exceptions, as well as any who would protect them. You will also answer only to me, and ignore my activities unless called upon. Do you understand?"

All nodded. She returned the gesture and released them directly from her control. "Go about your duties."

They wandered off, silent and mechanical as she proceeded deeper into the courtyard in front of the building and walked to a small patch of grass close to the building, knelt on the ground, placed her hands on her knees, closed her eyes and began her domination of the inhabitants of the building.

There were hundreds of people inside, with two very distinct mindsets from each other. One was heavily organized, conditioned and protective – soldiers and military personnel, she assumed. That was fine. The rest were largely more unique, some more busy or slow than others, but they lacked the strict uniformity found in soldiers.

So first she focused on them, on all the civilians that were here, all the ones who were doing their jobs.

Everything is normal. Nothing to be concerned about. Go about your business.

She impressed these words on them until they dominated the thoughts of every civilian in the building, which was easier since many more of them understood English, and thus, the command registered. They might not know why they were thinking these thoughts, or why they were so certain 'everything was fine', but they would believe it nonetheless.

Now, for the soldiers.

Come.

She repeated that command to all those with the minds of soldiers, who suddenly felt compelled to abandon their posts and go to where she was, the exact location she planted in their minds, even as she tightened her grip on them. They did not understand what was happening to them, and she felt their brief terror before she smothered it and forced compliance.

It might have been an hour later, or perhaps only five minutes, but she eventually felt dozens of minds in close proximity to her own and opened her eyes, her purple-tinted vision showing a small army of soldiers in front of her. All of them stood as still as statues, their eyes sightless as they stood under her thrall.

The landscape was eerily quiet as they all stood waiting. "Now listen…" Patricia began, her voice distorted and low as psionic energy coursed through her, and she gave them the same instructions as she had given the first group of guards. The instant she was done, the spell of silence was broken and they all shuffled away, no conversation taking place.

"You. Stay," She commanded one of the ranking officers who froze and turned to her. "Escort me to the Prime Minister."

"Yes, sir," he said dully. "Follow me."

She followed the soldier as they finally entered the building, and ignored the civilians and legislators still scurrying around, oblivious to the entirety of their guard temporarily disappearing just as she'd hoped. The soldier escorted her into an elevator and pressed the top floor, and they waited patiently as it took them up.

They stepped out, and he escorted her through the ornate hallway with the red rugs until they arrived in front of double doors, trimmed in white and gold. No doubt where the Prime Minister was stationed. The guards she had affected here were back at their posts, and opened the door at her command.

"Dismissed," she told them with a wave. "Return to your duties."

They saluted and she walked into the office of Prime Minister Rafiq Sangrasi. It was well-furnished, with bookcases and expensive chairs and couches lining the room, and sitting at a desk, several aides around him was Rafiq himself. He had fairly light skin, no beard, and a graying head of black hair. Dressed in a simple traditional suit and tie, he didn't look especially threatening or even intimidating.

He frowned as he noted her approach, and stiffened in outrage as she took the opportunity to liberate her hair of the hijab, seeing no more need of it. "And just who are you?" He demanded, correctly assuming she only spoke English, and he was fortunately good enough that his accent was easily understandable.

"Patricia Trask," she answered. "XCOM Psion."

Fear spiked in him, and his mouth parted in terror. "Impossible! How could you-"

"Your man has your version of the nuclear football, yes?" She interrupted, glancing at the man standing in the corner, holding onto a silver briefcase handcuffed to his hand. "You. Come here."

She easily took control of his mind directly and he walked over mechanically. "ADVENT is tired of this war," Patricia continued, sitting down in a chair opposite him, not feeling it was time to sift through the Prime Minister's memories quite yet. "Thus, both XCOM and ADVENT agree it is prudent to end it. The problem is that you are, unfortunately, a nuclear power, and we can't risk you killing millions of people in some form of revenge."

At a mental commend, the man placed the nuclear football on the table in front of Rafiq. "This is what I need from you, Prime Minister," Patricia continued, letting the psionic energy alter her voice, and was rewarded by Rafiq squirming in his seat and pushing away. "Your nuclear codes, your procedures, and who knows about them. You will start by unlocking the nuclear football." At that the man began unlocking it, and opened it to reveal a simple GUI which prompted a code from the Prime Minister.

Rafiq swallowed. "And if I refuse?"

"Then I will take control of your mind, like I've done with your soldiers here," she answered coldly, crossing her legs as if relaxed. "Your cooperation is not needed, but I feel an obligation to give you a choice."

"And then what?" He suddenly snarled. "You expect me to just surrender to your western empire that has sought our destruction for decades? You would see me humiliate myself? And for what? For my life?"

"No," Patricia answered. "To preserve the sanctity of your mind. It is something so personal and intimate that it being violated without consent scars people for the rest of their lives, no matter how short they are. You fear that happening to you now, and it can be prevented. I haven't entered your mind yet, but I would certainly have no issues doing it." Patricia paused. "That is the only reason. Your government will die today, Prime Minister, as will you, the people in this building, and your military command. If it's any consolation, the war in Pakistan will be over quickly-"

He spat in her face.

Patricia was still for a moment, then sighed. She could almost admire his defiance, and she did have to admit that there weren't many upsides to her offer. Fair enough. "I suppose that is a no then," she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "As you wish."

She extended the opposite hand to him and directly broke into his mind. She felt no need to be gentle as she probed through his memories, ones not even relevant, but she wanted to experiment somewhat here. It wasn't as if she was pressed for time now, and she wanted to see if she could keep him aware of what she was doing throughout the whole thing.

She parsed through his memories of childhood, early life, intimate moments, the deals he'd made, the secrets he knew, in mere minutes, keeping him independent enough so he knew just what she was seeing. It probably appeared to him like his life was literally flashing before his eyes, because it was, in a way.

She'd toyed with him enough. His mind was hers, and resistance was futile. "Enter the code," she said, and he did so. It beeped in acceptance and the GUI switched to show a small map of Pakistan. The language was in Arabic, but she could see several spots she assumed were stockpiles or missiles. There was a colored radius in the Arabian Sea, which she assumed was the general area of the nuclear submarine.

"Thank you," she said, pulling out her own tablet and entering the codes and information she'd extracted from his mind. She nodded and the aide closed the football and stepped back. "You have been helpful. Walk with me, Prime Minister, we have a plane to catch."

Cognizant of how he was being controlled, but helpless to stop himself, the Prime Minister rose and followed her out, the nuclear football in her hand. She could feel both his terror and fury, obvious questions blazing in his head.

"Your people will be treated fine, provided they follow the law," she said in the elevator, in response to a question in his mind. "We do not kill people without reason, only those that stand in the way of defending Earth. You should have surrendered long ago, and now you and everyone here will pay the price."

The elevator opened and they stepped out. "And I wouldn't be reliant on your military launching a retaliatory strike," she warned him with a smile as they walked through the ornate halls. "They will not know you are even gone, not until it is too late. That is where I am heading next, and ADVENT and XCOM teams will be moving to the nuclear sites as soon as your military command has fallen. Your country will be given to India afterwards, if you were interested."

A sense of loathing enveloped him, a hate so strong she had to chuckle. "I don't blame you for being angry," she said, with a glance back at him. "I would be too. But the thing is, I know when I am beaten, and your arrogance and stupidity is not something I can sympathize with. If you must hate anyone, hate yourself."

They stepped outside right on time, the skyranger was waiting with the ramp open and she escorted the Prime Minister onto it, and then mentally commanded himself to strap in. Once they had lifted off, she allowed him to talk. "Do you have anything you want to say? No one can hear you now."

"Enjoy your life on this Earth," he spat. "But an evil like you will not last forever. You will be punished one day for your crimes. You will be judged, in this life or the next."

Patricia raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps, but I somehow doubt it. Your god didn't intervene during the War on Terror, nor when your holy sites were destroyed, and not at all during this war. Your god is dead, Prime Minister. Or more likely, he never existed in the first place. There will be no afterlife for you, there will be no peace when you are executed. All you will have to look forward to is the void. You will die knowing you failed, and I want you to think of nothing else until that point."

She added the psionic command to the end of her sentence. "Remember, Prime Minister, that you failed."

That would be enough to start his mental deterioration, and she had more important things to worry about than the delusions of a dead man. The Pakistani military still needed to be neutralized, and she needed to prepare for that. Hmm…

The ordeal had drained her of quite a bit of energy, and while she was confident she could complete the mission, no sense in taking chances. She did recall the one trick she'd used when they'd attacked the Mercado Estate, and when she'd drained one of the soldiers of his energy. She glanced at the Prime Minister.

Perhaps he would serve an additional purpose before his death.

It wasn't as though he'd be contributing to anything else.

---

Portland, Oregon

"Deploy!" Creed shouted and the entire XCOM squad charged out into an already heated firefight on the south side of Portland outside the alien-controlled perimeter. Sierra knew there were three major objectives in securing Portland. The aliens had the city nearly surrounded, and had deployed some kind of artillery to cut off any sort of support from the side that was free. The north, south, and west of the city was secured by the aliens, and the Muton-majority forces had somehow constructed fortifications around the city.

Sierra looked around as the ADVENT soldiers charged forward with them. Matthew, Zara and, surprisingly, herself, were leading the charge forward at the foreboding alien structure that seemed to be too well-built for it to have only been constructed mere weeks ago. It was simple, with a single command tower two stories high in the center, and around it were black alloy fortifications and barricades. No walls, but multiple levels of cover until the center.

And they were filled to the brim with Mutons.

Plasma fire flew past them, hitting a good many soldiers who fell screaming as the plasma ate through their armor. "Establish a position!" Creed roared as they all took what cover they could in the woods, on a hill that was just above the Muton stronghold. The Officers around them repeated the orders, pulling back their soldiers while the Engineers rushed through.

"MDUs moving to assist!" One of the Officers shouted at Creed. "Set to reinforce you!"

"Acknowledged!" Creed called. "XCOM! Prepare to move forward! Jona, you ready?"

"Yes, sir!" The telepath answered with a firm nod.

"Sierra, Zara, with me up front!" Creed ordered and they immediately moved to comply as the green camo MDUs came stomping up. "Jim, stay back and take out the bigger targets. I bet we're going to have Elites and Berserkers showing up soon."

The lean sniper nodded. "My pleasure."

"Jamali, Fakhr, Jona, stay behind us," Creed instructed, hefting his pulse rifle. "We can take the fire. Matthew, you're also up front."

"Looking forward to it," Matthew answered, sounding almost happy. "I'm ready to crush some xenos."

"Overseer!" One of the Corporals, as designated by their dark green armor, yelled, running up, a few plasma bolts coming uncomfortably close to her head. "I'm coordinating the Grenadier attacks if you need it. I'm also working to establish sniper cover."

"Have your gunners move up to suppress the worst of it," Sierra found herself suggesting, as a cursory glance at the stronghold revealed the Mutons would overwhelm them with plasma otherwise. "The infantry aren't going to do much good otherwise."

The Corporal took it in stride. "A good suggestion, I'll see what I can do."

"Have your Grenadiers fire on my command," Matthew suggested. "I can direct their initial volley much more accurately than they can."

"Understood," the Corporal nodded. "Good luck down there."

"Same to you," Creed said. "Move out!"

And they charged forward down the hill into the hail of plasma below. Jona fell to one knee and extended a hand towards the stronghold, her body sheathed in a light psionic aura. "Fall!"

Sierra watched in fascination as a knot of Mutons just inexplicably fell over, although they moved to rise quickly, but it caused a lull in the constant plasma fire, and that was when the MDUs were sent forth. The bipedal robots wasted no time in opening fire. Lasers struck with pinpoint accuracy against the helmeted Mutons, with repeated volleys killing them instantly.

The remaining plasma fire was suddenly split between the new threat and XCOM bearing down on them. Sierra also fell to one knee and began sniping with her own pulse rifle, sustaining the beam at the head of one Muton. Creed did the same. Zara was pushing forward, using her own plasma rifle to wreak more havoc on their position.

A roar suddenly rang out, and Sierra's lips hardened into a line. Berserkers.

"Launch!" Matthew commanded, raising a hand, psionic energy surrounding his body. Sierra heard the ADVENT Corporal shouting in the background, and she glanced up to see an entire section of the air above her shimmering, a telekinetic net created by Matthew to catch any projectiles.

"Rocket prepped and ready," Fakhr updated, the launcher on her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, Matthew."

Six Berserkers suddenly came charging forward and Matthew threw his hand forward. "Now!" The four dozen or so grenades caught by Matthew, and Fakhr's rocket were suddenly thrown with blinding speed and slammed into the armored Berserker horde with an explosion that lit up the battlefield.

Zara whooped and waved her hand forward, as she was close to the line. "Come on!"

The MDUs were right behind her, and causing almost as much damage as them. The Muton Grenadiers were rushing forward now, along with the soldier reinforcements, and this time they were specifically targeting the merciless machines. Two MDUs went down in a bright explosion, even as the majority of the XCOM team reached the first barricade.

"Silly Mutons," Matthew chuckled, raising his hands toward the Grenadier line, and slowly squeezing. "Holding grenade launchers is not smart around me." The entire line suddenly exploded in a bright flash of green as the plasma not only killed them, but vaporized the entire line instantly.

Sierra and Jamali leapt over the first barricade, and charged to the second one as more reinforcements came pouring out, this time with Elites supporting them. While not nearly as impressive as Patricia, Jona was doing her part in smaller ways, muttering words to herself in a trance. Pain, fire, panic, and terror were all regularly part of her vocabulary, and Sierra noted that there were Mutons that occasionally started roaring in pain, clutching their heads, or just falling over. Those were quickly picked off by one of the soldiers or the MDUs.

Two more Berserkers suddenly leapt out from behind the Elites, and charged some of the MDUs. One slammed into the machine, clearly damaging its laser weapon, which the machine then tossed aside and started using its metal fists to pummel the Berserker in the face. The alien was clearly surprised, but in a match between a Berserker and machine, the Berserker would eventually win…

…Were it not for the intervention of psionics. Matthew noticed the situation and raised his hands in the direction of the Berserker, and lifted it into the air. The MDU was merciless as it struck with pinpoint accuracy at the designated weak point, which was the helmet, tore off the helmet, then dug its metal hands into the face as quickly and brutally as possible, turning it into unrecognizable pulp and gore, until it ripped what Sierra could only presume was part of its brain out.

And just like a machine, it immediately moved to the next target and began pummeling a surprised Muton soldier into the dirt. Sierra had to remember to send whoever had made them a congratulatory note. It was a beautiful combination of brutality and efficiency.

The Elites were backing up, and beginning to try and reform some semblance of a line with the remaining Muton soldiers. One suddenly turned and began attacking its brethren, and Fakhr took advantage of the distraction by loading another rocket and firing it into the crowd. The Elites staggered under the blast, but were torn between the mind-controlled alien, the MDUs who were circling in, and XCOM.

A cheer behind her caught her attention, and suddenly there were ADVENT soldiers by their side, firing at the remaining Mutons from positions of cover. Sierra grinned; she supposed that they'd done a good enough job to make it safe for ADVENT to actually come and reinforce their position. They were already doing good work.

Half a dozen Mutons were cut down from combined MDU and ADVENT fire, while Matthew was in the process of systematically crushing every limb, bone, and armor plates of a Muton Elite, his body language seeming to take great pleasure in making the alien suffer. A few other Mutons suddenly began freaking out, shooting the air, and stumbling around as if blind. Sierra and Jamali quickly put them down with sustained lasers.

The Muton force that was coming up from the west stronghold a few dozen feet away suddenly stopped, and the Elite suddenly began making motions for the force to retreat, and they quickly backed up, exposed and suddenly under a hail of gauss, laser and plasma from XCOM and ADVENT. An Elite corpse was thrown towards the small army, presumably by Matthew who stepped forward, psionic energy almost turning his form purple.

"You will not run!" He snarled, extending a hand, closing it into a grip and pulling. "Not today!"

The weapons of the front line of Mutons, including the Elites, were ripped from their hands and tossed onto the grass and dirt. Matthew's other hand was flat to the ground, the air around it distorted and Sierra realized that there was clear distortion pulling down around the legs of the Muton force, meaning he'd effectively anchored them in place.

And so they killed each and every one of them. Not even Muton Elites could withstand the fury of hundreds of gauss rounds and lasers, especially with no means to fight back. Sierra killed Muton after Muton, melting their helmets and heads in short succession. The Elites and Berserkers died more slowly, suffering from dozens of small wounds that bled them dry, while the MDUs systematically targeted and hit the identified weak points.

Sierra now realized why EXALT had given Matthew the designation of a "Fury". He was giving Patricia a run for her money. Quite honestly, the only thing that was giving her more satisfaction than slaughtering Mutons was watching that weaponless MDU walk around, and beat the odd Muton into a tan and yellow pulp.

Sierra grinned, and realized that the day was only getting started for them.

Vengeance felt good.

---

Rawalpindi, Pakistan

The teams were ready to move, all that was needed was the neutralization of Pakistani Military command. No longer in civilian attire, Patricia wore her Aegis armor as she marched toward the Joint Staff Headquarters, which was fortunately near the General Headquarters of the Pakistani Army. Subtlety was not a concern as she simply forced the few that got in her way to sleep with a mental command.

Even if most of them started running the opposite way when they saw her.

Her energy and vigor restored, she was ready to close this chapter of history, and wanted it done as quickly as possible. The military checkpoints were coming up, and she simply reached out towards the nearby minds and gave simple commands: Kill each other.

She paid no mind to the sound of gunshots ahead of her, and strode through the checkpoint as the guards focused on killing each other. A team of soldiers came running up to see what the commotion was, their own weapons drawn and she froze them in place with a single command. One of them was an officer, so she quickly extracted as much information from his mind as possible, before giving them all the same command as the guards.

And she got an idea.

Why waste time commanding individual groups of soldiers when she could affect everyone?

She cocked her head in thought. In theory it was possible, and certainly Ethereals were capable of such feats. Aegis had said Humans were likely capable of replicating at least some of an Ethereal's power, so why not this? Compared to destroying a planet, it was trivial.

But she would need an additional burst of energy to make it happen. Luckily, there were many sources around. She grasped one of the soldiers by the neck and focused on him, while simultaneously raising a hand in the general direction of the base to direct her power. She closed her eyes, and let the psionic power envelop her.

Then she slowly and deliberately expanded her influence, which she imagined as an radius effect, spreading out and catching minds in its wake like a trap. She knew she wouldn't be able to give complicated commands, but she didn't need to. Not yet. Like a parasite or virus, she wormed her way into dozens, then hundreds of minds over the course of at least a half hour.

Every time she felt her concentration wavering, she simply drew some of the focus of the man she had by the throat. She repeated this at least six times, as her control and range grew and the sheer number of images, thoughts, and voices of these people had contorted into a blur and voiceless noise in her head that threatened to drive her deaf and blind.

She figured there was no more she could do now. Perhaps the Command staff had been caught in it, perhaps not. Either way this would solve the problem one way or another. The time had come. She could expand no more, and gave her command.

Kill.

She opened her eyes and let her mind contract into her own. She looked down at the man she had by the throat and noted that he had died, with some blood running out of his nose. Hm, so she actually could kill someone like that. Interesting. Not like it mattered as the man would have died today anyway.

At least it had been a useful death.

Machine gun fire sounded further into the base. Yelling and an explosion followed.

She smiled.

The walk through the Pakistani base was a fascinating demonstration of how just one command could reduce a man to little more than a raving beast. It turned out that kill wasn't really specific enough. Some used guns, others used their hands, shovels, boxes - whatever was closest - it didn't matter as long as they had a target. Some of the bodies were so mutilated they would never be identified.

Others had clearly died excruciating deaths, and yet even then they had persisted in trying to kill something. All their faces were contorted in fury, rage and pain. Some of them even tried to attack her in their bloodlust, yet she simply redirected them with a simple mental wave. By the time she reached the Headquarters proper, she realized that her influence hadn't quite reached here. It had gotten close, but the soldiers here clearly retained their minds, and she could sense their distress at having to gun down their own men.

She put them out of their misery quickly. Kill yourselves she sent, and they placed pistols to their heads and pulled the trigger, ending their lives quickly and painlessly. She secured the mind of someone within the base and forced them to open the door for her, then gave them the same command as the guards.

Though before that, she extracted the location of where the Military Command was situated. An underground bunker that could only be accessed via elevator, and no one here had the codes to get into it. That might be a problem, had she not been able to access minds.

She didn't need to be in the room to extract the information she seeked.

So she strode down to the elevator, locked of course, and after she had turned every resident in this building against each other, she knelt down and focused on the minds below her. Now she planned to be a little more delicate, since she had some detailed information to extract here. She pulled out her tablet, and accessed the first mind, which happened to be the Chief of Naval Staff.

He was quite a trove of useful information. After a dedicated half hour of stripping his mind of information, she had the means to contact not one, but two nuclear subs, and the protocols for them to surface, as well as specific details about the missiles they were carrying. Their general location wasn't a surprise, but that was irrelevant, and of course the codes required were extracted as well.

The next few minds were not quite as useful, simple military leaders. She now had confirmations on the nuclear stockpiles and missile sites, all of which matched the ones from the nuclear football. Additional codes and protocols were also extracted, including all-clear and stand-down ones, which she figured could be used.

The next mind wasn't exactly important per-se, but interesting nonetheless. He must have been a scientist or engineer, as he knew the complete technical capabilities of Pakistan's nuclear arsenal, including bomb sizes, impact radius, bomb yield, time needed to hit, and the maximum range. Yes, very useful, and would help them plan even more exact operations.

She also confirmed that they hadn't sent any orders, for the simple reason that there clearly hadn't been any ADVENT activity and this was being seen as an attempted military defection. They clearly wouldn't risk their country being annihilated because of a military revolt. In the end, it had the same effect and they had ensured their destruction.

She sent all the information to ADVENT and the Commander. Her job was done, and all that was left was cutting off the head. But how to end them? She realized that she could use this time to experiment, maybe attempt to drive all of them to insanity or worse, since she hadn't quite mastered that aspect yet.

In the end, she decided the simplest way was the best. Much as these people were the enemy, there was no reason to make them suffer unnecessarily. She could save that for the aliens.

Kill yourselves.

With the final command sent, she stood and walked back onto the general area of the base and surveyed her handiwork. Hundreds of bodies were sprawled across the airfields and barracks, with the remnants fighting to tear each other apart. Blood ran and stained the concrete, and the corpses were already beginning to fester in the sun.

Above her the skyranger flew overhead, and she made her way to where it was landing, a trail of death and insanity behind her, but it was worth it. Pakistan would no longer pose a threat to ADVENT or XCOM.

With her final command, she had secured the future of the Middle East and ended the final threat they posed.

---

Nakashibetsu, Japan

Duri certainly felt somewhat apprehensive as the ADVENT Army marched forward to retake the one alien stronghold in Japan. There had been a few skirmishes, which had been driven back almost instantly as the Andromedons encountered stomped away when they saw the size of the army approaching.

And it was a massive army. Duri had heard that there were at least five thousand soldiers being committed to this mission, which was not counting the MDUs that led the front of the line, nor the XCOM psions that also stood before them. Duri realized that as much as he'd heard about the fabled XCOM psions, he hadn't actually seen one before.

They looked pretty normal, all things considered. Their armor was clearly more advanced and sleeker than ADVENT armor, but they didn't look any different than regular XCOM soldiers. That was, until the fighting started. A large reason they hadn't suffered any casualties yet was because they were in constant communication with the commanding officers, and apparently were able to sense where aliens were.

That, and when the aliens did appear, they raised their hands and purple shields appeared in front of where the alien weapons were, absorbing the plasma and allowing the aliens to get shredded by the MDUs. Even Andromedons weren't safe from the laser weapons the bipedal robots wielded, because whoever had programmed them was smart, and they targeted specific weak points of the armor, joints, tubes, and with literal laser-point accuracy, they caused the Andromedons to flee or die by a thousand cuts.

Duri glanced at the one psion leading the other two. Iosif he believed he was called, who was carrying a mace of all things. All of them were almost ripped out of some fantasy story; at times it seemed so bizarre just what was now possible. Plasma, aliens and tech made sense, and he could easily accept that.

Weird purple magic? That was something else entirely.

Still, he was more than happy to accept their help, because they would need it. The army formations were open, but at least the Corporals and Marshals had taken some care into how they were being put together. There were three main groups of soldiers, each group roughly one to two thousand strong. The majority were Officers and their squads, of which he was one of the ones leading in the front.

In the back, and in between each group were transports holding more soldiers, and carrying trailers of artillery pieces to deploy if needed. There were a few tanks leading the convoys, but the majority of vehicles here were mainly for transport and not direct combat, which Duri could understand since the number of vehicles suited for open combat was small, and the MDUs were much more useful in terrain like this, and especially in urban environments.

Around the midway point between the Officer squads were Purifier teams, Duri believed there were about a hundred Purifiers total, spread throughout the groups. Interspersed within the Officer squads were teams of ADVENT Engineers who were carrying squares of metal that he understood was a new development from ADVENT R&D, actual portable cover.

The specs seemed fairly strong, but Duri wasn't sure how reliable it would be under sustained fire, and curiously enough, all of the Engineers were armed with Symbiote grenades of all things. Correction: They had some kind of device that could spray that symbiote substance, which looked similar to the med-kits that the medics and XCOM used occasionally.

Probably used to patch up weak points. Either way, they were dispersed in such a way where several layers of ADVENT lines could be established within minutes, which was essential in the open field they would be initially be fighting in.

In front of all the groups were the line of MDUs, colored a stark white presumably to get the attention of the aliens, which shouldn't be a problem as the machines towered over the regular soldiers. And of course, leading the entire army were the XCOM psions.

"Who are the other two?" He asked his team, even as the red of the energy shield surrounding the captured alien city came into view. "The one with the mace is Iosif, I remember that."

"Dael and Said," Beatriz answered, the barrel of her sniper rifle resting on her shoulder while she carried it by the stock. "Don't ask for their last names, I don't think they ever said. Spooky if you ask me. Who the hell charges into a team of Andromedons?"

"And then bashes their little green heads in?" Cara finished with a chuckled. "Don't know, but I like these guys. Anyone that crazy is someone I want on my side."

Johan clicked his teeth. "Still though, why the hell would you use a mace?"

The psion Iosif suddenly raised a fist and the entire Army halted. Before them, Duri saw the alien stronghold in its full glory. All the bordering buildings had been fortified with alien alloys, and reflected a dull gray. Alien snipers were stationed on the roofs, and before the buildings were three layers of alien barricades, all constructed with Andromedon body sizes in mind.

There were hundreds of Andromedons already behind the barricades, their plasma rifles primed and ready, pointed at the ADVENT army encroaching on them. And in front of them was the massive red energy shield that seemed to cover the entire city. There were poles of various heights he saw buried in the ground, presumably the power sources. Some of the sections of the shield were clear, which was probably to give the Andromedons a window to fire out of.

"Engineers!" Iosif, called out, hooking his mace in a slot on his belt. "Establish defenses at the designated coordinates. You will be protected!" At that, the bodies of the psions were suddenly surrounded in purple energy, and Duri watched in amazement as a purple energy shield materialized before them, small at first, but it grew to fill the entire front of the army.

"Wow," Cara said.

Duri felt that was an appropriate choice of words, and the Engineers began rushing forward and establishing cover, and the aliens took that as their cue to fire. Green plasma flew towards them, but every single shot was negated by the psionic barrier, and the Engineers worked quickly, protected by the impenetrable barrier.

They set up the black squares, placing them vertically to the ground, and spikes shot into the ground, anchoring it in place initially, then metal panels extended out and interlocked with each other, until a full barrier was firmly established.

"Take positions!" One of the other psions ordered, the one with the Egyptian flag on his collar so that was…Said? Probably. It was more Egyptian than Dael.

"Move up!" Duri ordered and his team charged forward and quickly established themselves, holding their rifles at the ready and waiting for the order to fire.

"Target orders?" Beatriz asked, training her sniper rifle at the aliens. "I can get shots at the Andromedons or I can try to take out one of those generators."

"Rocket also primed," Kang stated, his rocket launcher aimed at the barricade. "Ready when you are."

"Target the Andromedons," Duri instructed Beatriz. "But don't fire. I want to see what they're going to do."

The 'plan' as he'd heard it, was that XCOM was going to protect the Purifiers who were going to get relatively close and burn the aliens. In practice, Duri thought there would be some other plan. Maybe that was the public one, since the aliens likely had spies of their own. There had to be more than that.

"Shield will dissipate!" Iosif called. "Return fire at will!"

The purple barrier vanished almost instantly, and the battle officially began. "Open fire!" Duri ordered, as did every other Officer on the front. Plasma was returned with gauss shots, and the red energy shield flickered as it was bombarded with thousands of projectiles. Duri tried firing at the gaps in the shielding, but soon found that he was too far away for his rifle to be that useful.

But he was going to do his damn hardest to contribute.

Behind him the Engineers were already establishing secondary lines, and the Purifier units were moving up. The MDUs were holding position, but were firing back as accurate as ever. They were managing to hit the energy generators, but the Battlefield Engineers behind them were replacing and repairing them just as fast.

"Purifiers! Forward!" Iosif shouted, his hands awash in purple energy. The Purifiers lumbered forward, as slow and methodical as ever, and Duri was instantly worried a stray plasma bolt was going to hit one and blow them all up.

But his worrying was needless, as the Purifiers were suddenly enveloped in what he could only describe as a personal psionic shield. It was partially translucent with a purple tint, but Duri could clearly make out the armored figure within it. How the psions were managing to project a shield on every one of the Purifiers was something Duri didn't feel like questioning at the moment, but the Purifiers soon took the lead.

The psions themselves trailed behind them, their hands extended towards the Purifiers, and similar shields covered their own bodies. Iosif in particular marched forward, a fist encased in energy raised high in the air, while the other held his mace. Once the psions started marching, the MDUs began their own methodical march forward.

The aliens were now noticing the problem, and even if they didn't know exactly what the Purifiers were, they knew they were probably dangerous. Duri gritted his teeth several times as a plasma bolt sometimes hit a Purifier directly, but the psionic barrier stopped it, and the Purifier kept marching forward unrelenting.

Duri also noticed that some of the Purifier units weren't exactly the same. Instead of the armor being black and orange, the color was white and orange, and the label painted on their shoulder was oddly enough, the formula for water.

H2O

He assumed it stood for something else. However…

The Purifiers stopped at what was probably one hundred or one-fifty feet away, best as he could tell. The white-striped Purifiers stepped forward, raised their weapons and shot out blasts of…water?

Beatriz whistled. "Friend, you are crazy."

She had said that CIF3 reacted violently with water, didn't she?

The water Purifiers continued spraying down the area in front of the shield, soaking the ground and the fronts of the generators. Then just as quickly, they stopped, and stepped behind the line of main Purifiers who now raised their flamethrowers, starting flames lit and extended far from the barrel.

The command was heard by everyone from Iosif.

"Light them up!"

What followed Duri would never forget for the rest of his life. He'd always thought flamethrowers were little short-range weapons that were dangerous, but only if you acted like an idiot about them. Not so here. The idea that flamethrowers were 'short-range' was, as he saw now, a complete myth.

Cones of white-hot flame shot across the battlefield and into the shield, and the instant they made contact with the soaked ground, the entire front of the shield exploded in a series of white smokey blasts that initially forced him to look away. When he looked back, the shield was visibly dissipating, and the Purifiers were moving forward, chemical flames blasting into the alien lines.

The water Purifiers behind them were aiming their water cannons into the air, and firing again, aiming to rain down water directly on the alien position, but Duri already knew it was complete overkill. Interestingly enough, the Andromedon suits were still intact, although on fire, but it was clear that whatever their helmets were made out of was not fireproof.

Duri was fortunate, or unfortunate, enough to see a Purifier fire directly into a pod of Andromedons who were trying to get the fuck away. The initial blast turned their armor black and set the metal on fire, and literally everything else that wasn't an alien alloy melted or disintegrated into nothing. The green and red helmets of the Andromedons melted like butter and the moment the chemical flames touched the alien within, the suits exploded, leaving only scraps behind.

The ground was burning now, and the fire was spreading into the city as the Purifiers continued shooting white flames into the doomed aliens, and the loud pop of explosions was still heard as water rained down, soaking even more of the city, ticking and innocent time bombs as the fire reached further.

The few non-Andromedons might as well have been wearing nothing when the flames hit. Duri saw a Vitakarian evaporate, boil, or explode, he wasn't sure which. And there were a group of…other aliens, sectoids maybe, that seemed to disappear the moment the flames covered them. Then there were the aliens that were on fire, and trying frantically to put it out, trying to pat it down, which only resulted in more of them catching on fire, or accidentally committing suicide by trying to douse themselves or others in water.

Cara summed up what most of them were feeling. "Holy shit."

All of them could only agree, as the Purifiers began to move on to encircle the city, and creating a ring of fire the aliens would not be able to escape from. And ADVENT listened to the screams of their enemy, and watched the fire as it consumed everything in its path.

---

Nuclear Storage Base 2, Pakistan

Roman felt that if he were on the opposite side of the small military base before them, he would be sufficiently terrified. ADVENT had the base completely surrounded, with MDUs encircling the base at all intervals, guarding THAAD and Point-Laser defense systems being rolled into place if the soldiers tried to launch a nuclear missile.

The main bulk of the ADVENT army was at the 'front' of the base, where Roman could see at least a few hundred Pakistani soldiers preparing to fight, hunkering behind barricades of boxes and sandbags.

All of them were as good as dead.

XCOM had also deemed to send one of their own to assist, and she was probably the scariest woman he'd ever seen. Ignoring the actual sword she carried, and the massive alloy shotgun, her body language and tone screamed danger to him. She walked as purposefully and emotionlessly as the MDUs around them.

Carmelita, that was her name. Unique to him, which was probably why he remembered it. And she had been pacing back and forth for the past fifteen minutes, the sword held idly in her hand as she was waiting for the order to attack. She reminded him of a tiger, or another animal stalking its prey. Every single person in there was marked for death, and Roman had the feeling that in a battle with this woman against everyone in the base…his money would be on the woman.

From what Roman could tell of the base itself, it was fairly small and ill-equipped for any kind of sustained attack. There was a main command building, and airfields for planes to take off, and that had actually been the initial response, which was to send up aircraft…which had immediately gotten blown out of the sky by the AA defenses established.

The Pakistani soldiers were looking to put up a good fight, if a fruitless one.

Roman had to admire their bravery in the face of death, but he wasn't sure if it was bravery or just plain stupidity. Either way, it was time to get started and end this war once and for all.

Maksim looked down the scope of his sniper rifle. "[And so it will end. What a pointless death.]"

Galina shrugged. "[I'm just glad it will be over soon.]"

"[Agreed,]" Anton nodded. "[Past time we join the real war.]"

"Attack at will," the orders came suddenly, and Roman's team fell into formation and began slowly marching towards the base. There were six Shieldbearer teams, with even more behind them, and Carmelita led the pack, twirling the sword in her hand with the blade suddenly turned orange, as if red-hot.

"[Shield up,]" Roman stated, as he activated his gear. "[Open fire!]"

Everyone in ADVENT began firing at the opposing soldiers, sending a hail of gauss fire that tore through their flimsy defenses, killing the front line almost immediately, and the few shots in retaliation simply bounced off the armor or his shielding. Carmelita yelled and jumped at least twenty feet toward the back of the Pakistani line and Roman realized he was right to consider her dangerous.

Carmelita killed quickly and brutally. With several swipes she dismembered and decapitated the immediate soldiers around her, grabbed another hapless one and slammed the point of her sword through his skull from under the chin, and then she extended her left hand and…something came out of it.

It was some sort of nightmarish tentacle, which looked more suited for a jellyfish. It was pale and the stinger at the end glistening with some kind of liquid. It impaled itself in the eye of one soldier, and then wrapped itself around the throat of another, and choked him to death while Carmelita swung her free hand holding the sword in a wide arc, slicing open the chests of a few more soldiers.

Roman wasn't sure if she was a typical representative of XCOM, but if so…no wonder ADVENT liked playing nice with them.

The remaining Pakistani soldiers were running deeper into the base, at this point running from the now-blood covered XCOM soldier who was now sheathing her sword in a slot on her back, and pulling out her shotgun and firing into the backs of retreating soldiers.

Konstantin snorted. "[Did we really need to come?]"

"[I'm wondering that myself,]" Roman commented as he shot two soldiers who were trying to hide behind some wooden crates. "[I guess we know why ADVENT is legally bound to fund XCOM. Can any of us do that?]"

That, which was now referring to Carmelita turning into some kind of leapfrog with a shotgun. He could swear he heard her chuckling as she leapt in front of fleeing soldiers, before unloading shotgun blasts in their chests, or beheading them with her sword. She seemed to be interchanging between them frequently.

"[She's practicing,]" Elena noted calmly as she gunned down several soldiers trying to set up a mounted minigun. "[This isn't serious combat for her.]"

"[No shit,]" Galina said sarcastically. "[I'd like to see what she does if she is trying.]"

"[Hey, we need to secure those missiles!]" Anton yelled, and pointed to a rack of missiles against a wall. Roman didn't know if they were nuclear, but they needed to do so anyway.

"Secure them," he ordered, and they began moving towards that location. The semblance of defense that the Pakistani army had promised had long since dissipated, and now it was simply a matter of hunting down any who didn't surrender. And by the looks of it, no one had yet.

Maybe not a surprise. You didn't get sent to guard a secret nuclear site without being sufficiently loyal. Most of these men probably didn't know their government was abolished, and even if they did, he doubted they would have given up anyway. But in the end, it didn't matter as he simply shot every enemy soldier he saw, and most of them were powerless to stop them.

The MDUs had entered the premises now, and Roman could now call it a massacre, although that wasn't fair to ascribe that to this battle now. Because this wasn't a battle, it was a slaughter and they were the butchers. Roman found himself feeling somewhat disappointed at how…easy it was.

But if it was the last time he had to fight in this damn desert, then it was worth it.

"Missiles secure," he stated. "Status of the enemy forces?"

"Routed," came the response. "Another team secured their nuclear arsenal here. I'm getting updates that the same is happening at the other locations. We all did it. The Pakistani threat is neutralized."

Roman grinned. "That's good news, sir."

And now he could relax. At least for a few days until he was sent to fight aliens. But he felt every one of his team deserved some rest. The War for Pakistan was over, and the Middle East would soon fall.

Yes, they'd definitely earned a break.

---

Exterior of Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

Reduced in power as Saudi Arabia had been since the fall of the Caliphate, they had still managed to construct some impressive buildings, though many of them were faded glories of the days of the Caliphate. Yet while under the direction of King Dhul, had they not chosen to defy ADVENT, they might have experienced a resurgence of a sort. There were few buildings she would consider to be skyscrapers, but they towered over the lesser structures which she supposed were houses, businesses and mosques in the world.

But even the tall buildings couldn't completely hide that the days of Saudi influence had ended. The skyscrapers were dull, sand-blasted and blocky. Remnants of much more intricate designs were spread throughout the city, half-finished or abandoned, either from a lack of money or resources. Riyadh had at one point been considered luxurious, but those days were long past.

Perhaps they would come again under ADVENT, but it would not be under the fallen House of al Saud. By tomorrow, they would be gone for good.

Marshal Helsa Betos, of one of the Israeli Garrisons, stood before the city, reflecting once more before what would likely be the final battle that took place here.

She was conflicted.

She was not a stranger to practicality or callousness; she would never have chosen a career in the military were it otherwise. Yet there was a point where she had to question just where such a line was. ADVENT Command was right, this war needed to be ended. She doubted any of them disputed that point. Yet the way it was to be ended was…extreme, even within the confines of the Directive.

It was something she had learned very quickly after Israel had joined ADVENT and their military had been restructured to conform to ADVENT standards. ADVENT did not have empathy. Betos genuinely didn't believe any of those in charge could really fathom why these countries didn't surrender to them. They couldn't understand their continued defiance, when it flew in the face of logic and reason.

They didn't seem to have any recognition that they might not be completely right. Betos agreed that the alien threat was the larger issue, but…again, ADVENT once more took the most extreme measure possible in subduing what they saw as a threat, which given how every Middle Eastern nation that had actually fought them was utterly decimated…she couldn't see how ADVENT could see them as anything more than an annoyance.

They most certainly were not a threat.

It also didn't help that many countrymen she knew were treating this war as a means of revenge, vengeance and retribution against the region that had once stood united in its hate for them, a hate that had never really faded. The scars of the War on Terror ran deep, and her countrymen considered now the time for retribution. Israel demanded blood, and they were finally carrying out the mission many of them had dreamed of. Palestine had been the first step, and now they were finishing the job by destroying everything the Inheritor King had established so many years ago.

Today many were seeing this as the final destruction of the Caliphate remnants.

That, Betos believed, was not why a war should be fought. Nowinski had called it a neutralization of the enemies of Israel, but now it had turned into a campaign of revenge.

One that she was now a part of.

It was eerie how much people could change once rules were removed or lessened. Men and women she'd served with for years had given orders that would have been seen as war crimes before ADVENT, yet were perfectly permissible under the current administration. Words like mercy, surrender and respect had been thrown away in the quest towards total and complete victory. It wasn't enough for ADVENT to win, they had to crush the enemy to absolutely nothing and salt the earth which they had died on.

Effective perhaps, but it came at a price.

Nothing solidified that she was living in a world where the rules were changed more than her time working with the Commander of XCOM. He was an enigma to her, a mix of contradictions and personalities that didn't seem to match. On the surface she was immediately attracted to his calm demeanor and clear respect for his subordinates. He didn't seem to see himself as innately superior to them, and had asked them for input quite often.

Betos could see why he had been put in charge of XCOM, and it helped that he was clearly smart as well.

Yet in direct contrast to his friendly demeanor to his subordinates…he was the embodiment of ADVENT's military directive. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he'd written the damn thing himself. It was chilling hearing him calmly describing the plan to execute an entire family, and draw up orders for the execution of all hostile military soldiers.

No one was worth any extra consideration in his eyes. Man or woman, the Commander marked them for death. His one line appeared to be children, but he clearly didn't think about the effect it would have on the children, seeing their parents getting shot in front of them. It was worse since he had been explicitly clear that no surrender was to be accepted.

His rationale was just as practical as the rest of him. "Facing death reveals the true nature of people. Most will beg for their life in order to save it, regardless of why they are in that situation to begin with. These people have been given the opportunity and refused. Their chances are spent, and their tears will not change their fate."

What was unnerving to her was that he had a way of presenting his plan as making sense. He operated on pure logic, and because of that, she couldn't easily refute what he was saying. Morality was not a word in his used vocabulary, and one he seemed to hold some disdain for. The Commander didn't seem to really care about liberating the people here, he only cared about the negation of a threat.

He seemed to have a drive to personally see this through, which she hadn't failed to notice. He was not doing this with any sort of bravado or emotion, but almost...duty. Like he was finishing something he had started. She wondered if he'd fought in the War on Terror; it would certainly make sense, though his tone was more...melancholic than malicious, which didn't especially compute with his endorsement of total annihilation of the defiant.

She recognized that was certainly a major part of strategy…but there had to be some kind of balance. She'd at least tried to treat the captured soldiers and civilians well, and she had the capability to empathize with what they were going though. She had some more perspective on that than most, and tried to apply that in this war.

The Advent Directive itself thankfully allowed for such small mercies, but it was abundantly clear now that the ones who really mattered only cared about the victory, and not the means or what even came after. They said they had a plan for afterwards, but she genuinely wasn't sure what it would entail

That bothered her. Did she really have a place in it then if this is what she could be repeatedly ordered to carry out? How long was it going to be before ADVENT started sending military forces to simply shut down people who peacefully opposed them?

She snorted.

Stein's appointment suddenly made a lot more sense, now that she thought about it. That psychopath was a perfect fit for what ADVENT wanted, which was a state free of all dissent.

At any cost.

"I don't think the architecture is that interesting," the familiar voice of her second-in-command stated as he walked up behind her. "I doubt some of it will be standing tomorrow."

"What better time to memorize it, Mox?" She asked the towering soldier now at her side. "I doubt anyone else will care."

He crossed his arms, his tone full of disapproval. "You actually sound surprised at that."

She shrugged. "Maybe I'm too much of an idealist."

"Idealism is dead," he stated flatly. "It died when ADVENT took over. We're now all tools of the state. I told you what these leaders were like, and you didn't believe me. It's changed, hasn't it?"

She took off her helmet, and let the air wash over her bald scalp. "Maybe you were right," she admitted. "These people aren't like us."

"Which is why you need to resist them," Mox said grimly, moving around to face her. "At some point you have to make a stand. Do you really believe it's necessary to kill off the entire Royal Family? Do you really think that all of them are equally influential?"

"Of course not!" She snapped, gritting her teeth. "But what exactly am I supposed to do? Defy a direct order from the Commander of XCOM? Do you even know what kind of man you're talking about here? He doesn't see innocence or guilt, only potential threats. And he eliminates threats, Mox. Until you've met him, don't say that speaking against him is a viable option."

Mox was silent for a few moments. "You're a good woman. I've known that for years. But I'm worried you won't be one if you keep…doing this. And I'm worried about myself as well. Both of us joined to protect people, and right now it doesn't feel like we're doing that."

"No," she agreed softly. "It doesn't. But what other choice do we have? Leave?"

Both of them were silent, until Betos' wrist chirped an incoming message. She quickly put on her helmet. "Marshal Betos. Status?"

"We've got a defector," came the answer. "Says he's part of the Royal Family. Appears to be legitimate, he brought his family and personal guard with him. We've taken them into custody, and he's being escorted to the Commander now. He wants you there with him."

That was unexpected. About time one of the Saudi's got smart. "I'm on my way," she said, then clicked off, looking up at Mox. "It appears one of the Royal Family defected. The Commander is going to speak to him now."

"Really?" He visibly perked up. "Well, get going!"

She took his advice and dashed off at a quick jog, moving through the ADVENT camp where soldiers quickly got out of her way as she marched through the winding paths. The Command Structure was a quickly-constructed building made out of lightweight tiles and walls that snapped together to form a secure shelter stronger than a tent.

There wasn't much room inside it, but enough for a small holotable and room enough for at least three or four other people. Betos opened the door to see the Commander standing on the far end of the holotable, dressed in his full Aegis armor. The silver gleamed in the light, and his gauss sniper rifle and pulse rifle were hooked to slots on his back. The helmet was resting on the holotable, and the Commander appeared more inquisitive than anything else. No surprise he was in armor, Betos knew he was going to participate in the battle.

The other man did appear to be a wealthy Saudi man. He was dressed in white and gold robes, and the traditional headdress with cloth that fell to his shoulders was affixed with the black band. She knew that particular piece had a name, she just didn't remember it off the top of her head. His skin was a ruddy tan, and he had a full black beard which was neatly groomed.

"Betos, good, you're here," the Commander nodded in her direction, before addressing the man. "Now, you may begin."

"Yes," the man said, bowing to her as she went and took a place by the Commander. "My name is Maqil bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, of the Royal Family of Saudi Arabia, brother to King Dhul Ibn Khalif Al-Saud."

The Commander gave a single nod. "Yes, I recognize you now. Surprising, that you're standing here before me. I would not have expected someone so highly placed to defect at this stage."

"You must understand, Commander…" He paused, waiting for the Commander to reveal his name.

"'Commander,' will suffice," was the answer.

"You must understand, Commander," Maqil continued. "We are a proud people, we do not see the humiliation of surrender as something to aspire to. Call it arrogance if you wish, but the Royal Family, and many of our people, see this as an unjust war, and the aggressors as people who seek to destroy our chance at...recovery. We have only just begun to recover from the sanctions placed upon us by the Damascus Accords...and now a foreign power demands our allegiance. Truly, Commander of XCOM, what should our response be? Capitulation without question?"

The Commander's face was inscrutable. "I know what has happened to your nation, better than you think. I was there when King Dhul bartered with the Council of Nations. That he was willing to risk himself for his people."

Both Betos and the man looked at him with surprise. "At the same time," the Commander continued. "This is no unjust war. Your conspiring to attack Israel cannot be left unanswered. Perhaps it is a tragedy, but you cannot say what is happening now is baseless. I have been here before, many years ago, and I made a miscalculation. Today I intend to correct it."

Maqil seemed to not be expecting the Commander's answer. "Believe me or not, but my family had nothing to do with the egregious attack on Israel," he shook his head, fiddling with the plain iron ring on his left hand. "However, I believe that is beside the point now. What is done is done, and I assume within the next few hours you will attack."

"Yes," the Commander stated.

"What are you planning to do?" Maqil asked. "What is to be the fate of my family and the citizens just living their lives? I do not ask for mercy for my brother, I suspect you have determined his fate, but I do ask that you treat the citizens and the innocent ones in my family fairly."

"The extended Saudi family has little to worry about," the Commander dismissed. "It would be impractical and pointless to hunt down those with very little real power. But the core of the family, they will be executed. No exceptions. The family will die, and it will never rise to power again. There are penalties to defiance. The House of Saud had ample an opportunity to surrender. The civilians will be treated fairly, provided they follow ADVENT's laws."

Maqil visibly became deflated. "I suppose there is nothing I can do to convince you to simply take them alive? My brother is a good man; beloved by the people, even reduced as we are."

"No." The Commander shook his head. "What has begun cannot be stopped now. The period of immunity has passed. Why are you here, Maqil? You had to know your request was unlikely."

"First, to secure the lives of my wife and children," he began. "And second…because I want to help ensure the city is taken as quickly and bloodlessly as possible."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Is that right?"

"Yes," Maqil quickly said, bobbing his head. "Taking the city will only be the first step. I do not believe that you or ADVENT know just what you have done. The people will not respond well initially to a foreign power in charge, no matter your intentions. It will cause…problems, and I have seen how ADVENT responds to dissent, and I have no wish for that to happen to the population."

He spread his hands. "However, this can be avoided with my help. I am known to the people. They will react better if one of their own is seen with ADVENT, especially if it is me. Your problems can be avoided if you let me lead until there is an official selected, or at least until the population is sufficiently placated."

Betos almost winced. She genuinely wasn't sure if this was an opportunistic power grab or a legitimate strategy the man wanted to employ. On the surface, she would agree. The leaders of countries and even regions should reflect their citizens. It would be wrong for the Head of State for Saudi Arabia to be anything other than a Saudi, or at least someone of Arabic ethnicity.

The question was if the Commander would see it that way. As it was, he simply had one eyebrow raised.

"Quite convenient for you," he commented. "You survive the purge of your family, and in return gain the power of King. As it happens, I do think it would make most sense for a Saudi to eventually preside as the Governor of Riyadh. But I'm not sure it should be you."

The Commander raised a gauntleted finger at him. "Saudi Arabia will no longer be a sovereign nation. It will become a territory under ADVENT control. Concerning your own appointment, that is not a call for me to make. ADVENT may decide your idea is worth implementing, but that will not be by me. Regardless…" he trailed off briefly.

"If you wish to have this position, you must earn it. I don't know if you are a good leader or not. I don't know your qualifications. With that said, you have made the right decision siding with us, and ADVENT will remember that. The decision of allowing you to run for a government position is not up to me, but if you are sincere about wanting to, then I will personally approve you for Governor application. If you actually have the skills, then I see no problem allowing you to help. Is this acceptable for you?"

Maqil sighed. "I believe it will have to be. Nonetheless, my help is at your - and ADVENT's - disposal, should you need it."

"Good," the Commander said, lifting an eyebrow. "But I would not get your hopes up for your rule. The dynasty of the House of Saud is at an end. There was only one of your family who was of any worth, and when he died, and your family did nothing, you sealed your fall. The people, they will want someone who will lead them into the next era. The House of Saud's time ended when the Inheritor King was executed."

To Betos's surprise...Maqil's eyes flashed.. Anger, but also pain, were in his eyes.

His posture straightened, his shoulders squared and his facial expressions flickered. He laid his hands on the table.

For just a second, just one second, he gave off an air of royal dignity.

"You know nothing of what you speak of, Commander of XCOM. You have no concept of what my family endured."

Then he flinched, and crawled back into himself.

Betos would have been impressed by the power play, if she hadn't already guessed and seen the man to be a weasel.

"Your family bowed to the Caliph as its founder was butchered," the Commander answered neutrally. "Spare me the excuses. If they had acted, perhaps the region would have endured. Perhaps you will yet be accepted, I do not know, but do not expect your family name to return to what it once was."

For a moment, just a brief moment, it seemed like Maqil was going to speak up further; challenge the Commander. She was somewhat surprised that this self-preserving man would risk it - and as she would have expected, his demeanor faded and he bowed his head. "I will...consider what you say...and do what I can to assist if called upon."

"Then dismissed," the Commander stated, and then when Maqil left, he turned to her. "Betos, are the soldiers ready?"

She nodded. "Ready and waiting, Commander."

"Then give the order," he stated, reaching for his helmet. "We attack now."

Betos blinked. "Now? But you told him that-"

"I'm not convinced that he happened to leave the city with no one stopping him," the Commander said, his voice artificially harder from the helmet. "He seems genuine, at least in his desire to be a more, ah, 'benevolent ruler'. But I would not be surprised if there is one of his entourage that is compromised by the Saudi Family. Not that it matters, but I would prefer to catch them off guard then even give them a few hours to prepare. There is no need to delay, regardless. I think you want this over with as much as I."

Betos could only nod. "I certainly do, Commander."

"Then launch the attack," he stated, walking past her. "This war ends today."

---

Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

The perimeter of Riyadh lit up with muzzle flashes as the Saudi soldiers realized that ADVENT was actually attacking. Their bullets were answered with gauss rounds from ADVENT soldiers and lasers from the MDUs that led the front. The Commander fired his own pulse laser, cutting through several Saudi soldiers with ease, and in a few minutes the MDUs had neutralized most of the initial defense line.

Riyadh was a large city, and there was a lot of ground to cover between the Royal Palace and the city perimeter, but the Commander wasn't exactly pressed for time at the moment. He'd have the MDUs surround the city, and all the major exits were covered in the unlikely event that the Royal Family tried to leave.

The Saudis had declared martial law a while ago, so that was hopefully going to keep the majority of the civilians out of the line of fire, and he sincerely doubted that the military would be stupid enough to use the citizens as human shields or hostages. Perhaps if this was a lesser city, but not the capital of Saudi Arabia itself.

The Commander leapt onto one of the roofs, pulled out his sniper rifle and sighted in on a group of soldiers rushing forward to defend the city. Four gauss shots later all of them were lying on the sandy concrete, dead from headshots, looks of complete surprise on their faces.

Good to see he hadn't fallen out of practice.

He swept his scope around his immediate area, looking for more soldiers to take out, and helped ADVENT soldiers by taking out their opposition from afar. He really didn't need to, as the ADVENT military was cutting through the Saudis like a wet piece of paper. Even their heavy equipment like mounted machine guns barely had enough power to even wound ADVENT soldiers.

It was apparent where the Saudis had been hit hardest after he'd executed many in the Royal Family the last time he was here, and the subsequent fall of the Caliphate had sealed their downfall. No one wanted to deal with them, as the stigma was still too great. Even their vast oil reserves were useless for many years as the Damascus Accords had sanctioned them indefinitely.

He wondered, briefly, what might have happened if they hadn't joined the war against Israel. With some of the sanctions lifted...and a monarch who was not as bad as his predecessors, perhaps they could have joined ADVENT under better terms.

A shame.

Now they were experiencing the consequences of their decline. It showed. Their weapons, armor, and even heavier pieces were irrelevant twenty-year old pieces of junk that were Caliphate-era, or older models which had been smuggled from the east and west. The results of economic and military strangulation

It all came full circle it seemed. It wasn't that long ago that he was waging another war here. He'd technically won, but he knew now that he'd failed in the long term. The results of the War on Terror had only condemned nations and people to poverty and death. It needed a fresh start, a rebuilding from the ground up. Education, effective leadership, and prosperity. He had only solved the obvious problem last time.

This time, he would usher in a new, greater age. One that would dwarf even the highest points of the Caliphate.

Fate had a sense of humor and irony it seemed. Last time he'd been acting alone without government support. Now he was leading the armies against them.

ADVENT forces had now made major inroads in the city, and the Saudis were in full retreat. He'd been sure to bring the entire Garrison so they could effectively cut off all areas of retreat, and clear the streets systematically and quickly. So he kept going forward, leaping to different roofs as he assisted the various squads of soldiers and took out all opposition in their path.

The Commander quickly fell into a familiar pattern as they methodically advanced through the city. He leapt across the roofs of buildings, fell into position, and took out as many enemies as he could see until the ADVENT forces had pushed far enough that there were no more targets for him, and he leapt forward to the next building to repeat the same thing over again.

He didn't know how long it took, but eventually, the Royal Palace was in sight, a compound that stood above all the rest of the plain city because it was clearly the most luxurious. The walls were a gleaming tan stone, and had silver trim. The ornate building in the middle had a domed top, many windows and surrounding it was a well-maintained landscape and decorative pieces like benches, arches and fountains.

The Commander noted that it was far less ornate than the last time he'd been here, and more modest. There wasn't even a fresh coat of paint on the exterior. His lips set in a firm line, he systematically eliminated the guards around the palace, even as the ADVENT soldiers surrounded the gates.

Time for him to move in.

He jumped down and made his way over to the entrance where the soldiers had already blasted the gate apart, and were ready and waiting to advance forward. "Remember," he instructed them. "With the exception of children, terminate on sight. Are there any traps being picked up?"

One of the Engineers shook his head. "No, Commander. Seems to be all clear."

"No signs of any of them fleeing," Betos updated, also walking up, her second in command, Pratal Mox, he remembered, close behind. "My soldiers have surrounded the palace and are sweeping the rest of the streets for stragglers."

The Commander nodded. "Move in. I will deal with the King."

With the soldiers at his back, the Commander marched forward, his pulse rifle at the ready as they reached the massive white doors leading into the palace. A sustained laser melted the locks, and they stepped inside the palace.

The interior had similarly changed since the last time he had entered. No longer were there gaudy ornaments, gold-plated walls and floors everywhere, and an abundance of luxury. Even the Royal Family had not been immune to the effects of the sanctions, as their vast wealth had diminished. There were some men and women standing in the small ballroom, who froze as they marched inside, and could barely react before they were cut down with gauss rounds.

The Commander knew where the King would be.

The same place where he'd killed the last one.

"There are two basement floors below this, and three above," he told Betos. "I will go deal with the King now. Divide your soldiers accordingly."

"Yes, Commander."

With that he jumped up to the highest floor, which was easily accessible with the open architecture of the palace. He pulled himself over the railing and began walking down the luxurious hallways that were decorated with portraits, rugs, and golden lamps which lit his way.

One man suddenly rounded the corner and yelled in panic before trying to turn around, though not before the Commander telekinetically grasped him with a raised hand, psionic power converging around the prosthetic. He kept walking forward, even as the man struggled against the unrelenting grip. The Commander squeezed his hand and the man's neck snapped with an audible crack, and the Commander let his body fall, slumping against the wall.

The Saudis didn't have a 'throne room' per-se, but they did have an equivalent of course. It was a grand ballroom, with a single massive table in the middle, under the golden domed top. It was honestly one of the most impressive rooms the Commander had ever seen; a shame it had to be here.

The massive double doors in front of him were closed, but the Commander forced them over with a simple telekinetic gesture and he stepped inside the ballroom. Complete silence met him as he stared across to the table where a man in similar attire to Maqil was seated, with his wife close beside him.

King Dhul Ibn Khalif Al-Saud simply watched him as he walked forward, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silent room until he was at the opposite end of the polished table. The Commander took off his helmet with a hiss, and set it on the table. "So, we meet again," King Dhul said, his voice low and resigned. "[I wondered if it would be you.]"

The king's wife leaned her head on Dhul's shoulder. Her hand gently laid onto his. Her raven hair disheveled, and her eyes glistening with tears, even as she tried her best not to look at the Commander.

The Commander was silent for a few moments, before replying back in Arabic as the King had spoken. "[It only seemed fitting.]"

"[I suppose I should not waste time,]" he asked, lacing his fingers together, eyeing the weapons in his hand. "[To kill me?]"

"[And others of the House of al Saud who did not surrender.]"

The King stiffened. "[If any must be punished, let it be me.]"

"[You should have surrendered.]"

"[ADVENT has murdered many in my family today,]" the King's brow furrowed, as he rubbed his ring finger, one which the Commander noted seemed to have an outline of a missing ring. "[My sisters. My brothers and uncles. Men who mentored me, and who taught me much. Tell me, Commander, would you surrender if faced with this?]"

He shook his head. "[It should be clear to you, Commander. ADVENT did not want us to surrender. Their rhetoric said otherwise, but it is merely that. Your 'offer' of peace was nothing more than an excuse to make it our fault we didn't trust the armies at our doorstep.]"

The Commander was silent for a moment. "[You know I would not have lied. You were there when I attempted to renegotiate the Accords. But I suppose that is in the past now. I'm not condemning you, your Majesty,]" the Commander inclined his head. "[But these are consequences. Had they surrendered, they would be alive. There is nothing I can do to change that, nor do I believe I should.]"

"[Would you have surrendered under such circumstances?]"

"[As I said, I do not condemn you,]" the Commander said slowly. "[You have your reasons for not trusting ADVENT. You also bear the consequences.]"

"[Do you truly believe I was involved in the attack on Israel?]"

"[There were documents and memorandums.]"

"[Forged. The West did not listen. They were fooled. You did not answer my question.]"

"[No. Though I have no proof but a feeling. An attack such as that does not seem like something you would sanction. You would not put your country into a war merely to settle a score against a regional rival.]"

A short nod. "[And yet, here you are, preparing to kill me.]"

"[I am.]"

"[You know it did not have to end like this. Not in this grave injustice. I would have accepted an earnest offer, I would have met you at the negotiating table. Anything but what you offered.]"

"[In an ideal world, yes,]" the Commander briefly closed his eyes. "[But we do not live in an ideal world. The aliens are the threat, and ADVENT...ADVENT cannot afford to fight a long, drawn-out war in the Middle East. Not without the aliens exploiting it. Not without the conflict spiraling out of control. It should not have had to come to this, but it cannot be stopped now. Not without more death and violence.]"

There was a prolonged period of silence between the two men.

"[I've never cared much for the unfairness of life. God gives and He takes,]" the King mused, exhaustion pouring out of him. His eyes were tired, but not defeated. "[But it seems the unfairness of life cares much for me, my people and my kindred.]"

Dhul's hand rose, running through the hair of his wife. She shuddered, taking a long, resolved breath.

"[No.]" He said, a defiant edge to his voice. "[I've never cared for unfairness. I've only cared for how little chance we stood. Always my and mine, against the world.]" His gaze locked onto the Commander. "[You know this is not the end, yes?]"

"[This time, it is.]"

The King gave a long, hollow laugh. "[Ah, I expected more self-awareness. I have seen what ADVENT has done, how they have treated the people. You are foreigners and you will not be accepted. There are many who will fight you to your last breath. We are a people who are close to each other; our bonds of community are strong. Not even ADVENT can diminish that. Underestimate a man with his back to the wall at your own peril.]"

The Commander gave a short nod. "[Your predecessor was of a similar opinion, though his words were more grandiose and prophetic.]"

He wondered if that would prompt a revelation.

The only reaction the King showed a slight bow of his head. "[It's you, isn't it?]"

"[It is.]"

"[I had wondered when I met you,]" he shrugged. "[I'd dismissed it. Your actions did not match my expectations. I later reconsidered. You were not what I expected. The Commander would not have negotiated with me. He would not have conceded.]"

"[And I would not have expected a Saudi monarch to come and plead on behalf of his people, and put the interests of his country first, before himself.]"

"[Neither of us were as expected that day.]"

"[People can change. Even me.]"

"[Yet here you are, preparing to kill me and my family. For crimes not ours and for sins we did not commit.]"

"[Yes.]"

A single nod.

"[I have only one request,]" the King said in a subdued voice. "[Your people are killing my family now. Spare them. The ones who are responsible have perished or face you now. My wives and sons should not suffer the sins of the father.]"

The Commander hesitated a long few seconds. Then he clicked open the intercom. "Betos, the King is dead. Accept any surrender proposed."

There was a brief pause. "Understood, Commander, though we mostly finished up. We'll apply it if anyone is left."

The King inclined his head, even as his eyes hardened as he heard the dispassionate update from Betos. "[Thank you.]"

The Commander stood and pulled out his pistol. "[I'm sorry it had to end this way. Know that ADVENT will restore your nations to greater than they were under the Caliphate.]"

"[If they succeed, Commander.]"

"[If they succeed.]"

Both men faced each other, both knowing what would come next.

The Commander raised his pistol level with the head of the monarch and the woman beside him. Two shots rang, and the execution of King Dhul Ibn Khalif Al-Saud was complete.

The sound echoed off the walls, the only sound beside his footsteps. A flick of his wrist, and the linen wrap of the table tore in two and covered the corpses. A final piece of dignity for the deceased.

The Commander had killed many in his career, and rarely felt for them. Many were selfish, evil, fanatical, or simply in opposition to his goals. Their deaths were justified under one code or another. Yet looking upon Dhul's body, the Commander wondered if it could have ended differently.

Dhul did not deserve to die today. Circumstance and necessity had forced his hand, yet like the many innocents he had killed during the War on Terror, his own reluctance did not stand in the way of necessity. Dhul was unlikely to have been fully innocent, but he was a man who deserved a bit better than an unceremonious death.

Yet Dhul had been wrong about one thing. If he had surrendered, it would have been accepted. But he had stood, defiant to the last. Commendable and understandable and unfortunate.

Though now it no longer mattered. Without a word, he holstered his pistol and turned on his heel, the clack of his boots on the tile the only sounds within the throne room.

The King was dead.

The battle was won.

---

Mackay, Australia

"Targets in sight," Joseph said from the foliage where he and Abby were situated, the rest of the Resistance soldiers were waiting in similar areas, and where the Chronicler was, Abby had no idea. So she was here waiting for the order to attack, gauss rifle in hand. Joseph had his sniper rifle at the ready, and was looking through the scope on one knee.

"Which ones?" She asked with some sarcasm, as there were a minimum of twenty aliens in the small town before them. Most were Muton soldiers, guarding the perimeter, with some Vitakara snipers on the roofs of the houses and buildings. No Andromedons, Elites or Berserkers, so that was good. But there had to be some deeper in the town.

"Snipers are the larger threat," he answered, gesturing slightly with his rifle. "Mutons are stupid, large and brutish. Snipers cause more damage. Shoot the far left one, and go down the line until all of them are corpses." His tone grew more mocking. "Idiots. They didn't even bother to try and rig up a good sniper nest, no. They just stand up in the open."

"Good enough," Abby shrugged. "Whatever makes it easier for you."

"Mhmm," he nodded. "So, what's your story agent? Call it intuition, but I get the feeling yours is interesting. More so than mine, anyway."

"I doubt that," Abby answered, shooting him a frown. "Not all of us were a part of a worldwide global conspiracy, Falka."

"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten that isn't exactly normal," he chuckled. "I've sort of stopped thinking about it as anything special. It was just reality for years. So fine, I'm a little interesting. You didn't answer my question though."

"Fine," she relented. "Short version is that I was an XCOM soldier, a medic specifically. Our Intelligence Director thought I would be a good agent and made me an offer. I accepted, toured the world, shut down a few EXALT cells, ended with my team getting killed by a UN assassin of all things." She glanced over at him. "I would say sorry for ruining your Russia cell, but I'm not."

"Interesting," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I'd never have guessed you were a medic, kinda goes against the stuff you said in the briefing."

Abby looked back towards the town. "I changed."

"So I see," Joseph nodded, lowering his sniper rifle and looking at her. "Color me impressed. Not a lot of people can handle what we have to do in this job, much less people who used to save lives."

"Depends on your perspective," Abby said. "How many lives will we save right now?"

"A fair point," he nodded. "One I happen to agree with. Even if you worked against us, I can respect what you did. Can't say I wouldn't have shot you in the head, were we still enemies, but you would have fit in well with us."

"'Us' as in your family? Or EXALT?"

"One and the same," he clarified. "Or at least it was. We're all part of ADVENT now. But you have everything needed for a good Falka agent. You're smart, resourceful, practical, attractive, and adaptable. What more could be useful in an agent?"

Abby flushed unexpectedly. "Cute. That doesn't work on me, Falka."

Joseph glanced over at her. "What, because I called you attractive? I wasn't flirting with you, if that's what you thought. I read the report on the Russia cell being compromised, and given some of the tactics used, I'd think you know more than most how fallible we are to our own mortal needs." He finished with a smile.

Abby wished her mind hadn't immediately jumped to that assumption. "Right, sorry."

"Trust me," Joseph chuckled. "I would be a lot more charming if I wanted to flirt with you."

"And I would probably punch you."

He was still amused. "Fair enough."

"My turn," Abby said. "What's it like growing up in the Illuminati fan club?"

"And just where do you think that concept came from?" He asked knowingly. "EXALT didn't always have its name. But your question is a good one, and I rarely get the privilege of talking to people who didn't already know it. My family was a little different than most, and even in the family, my training was very different."

"How so?"

He pinched his forehead. "Let's see…alright, you have to understand what the goal of the Falka family was. Many times, members of the family are just…ordinary people. They have jobs, families, friends. But they really are spies. They spend their lives as sleeper agents of a sort, and they are effectively the reason why EXALT had such a reach around the world."

It made Abby's brain hurt just trying to grasp the scale of such an operation. The concept wasn't so alien, but the fact that someone had actually done it was…disconcerting. It was enough to make someone paranoid, as there really were spies all around. "Of course, they aren't all Falka agents," he clarified. "But most were. Then there were the dedicated "Intelligence" organs of the family, and that is what I was a part of. Specifically, I was identified as a good candidate for long-term undercover operations."

"What made you stand out?" She asked.

"The first thing Falka children are taught, regardless of where they're born, is how to lie," he explained. "For obvious reasons, we can't have children being a weak link. Kids tend to accidentally say stuff they shouldn't. We teach them to lie instead. As it happened, I was very good at lying. Well, for a ten-year-old I guess."

Abby was very glad she had never heard details of this family before. Every other family at least seemed somewhat…understandable, from what she knew of them. But this was just bizarre and creepy. Kids shouldn't be able to do that kind of stuff, especially not being taught to do it. "So I pretty much spent my life training how to blend in and kill," Joseph continued. "I might have had a good, successful career as an agent. Sadly, or perhaps not, the aliens threw a wrench into that plan. This is technically my first assignment."

"Oh?" Abby raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. "Not exactly what you were training for, is it?"

"Not really," he admitted. "But I'm not going to complain about killing some aliens."

"So," Abby said, now openly amused. "Does this mean I technically have more experience than you? At least as an intelligence agent."

"Perhaps if we want to get technical," he admitted, apparently taking an interest in his sniper rifle again.

Abby kept her amusement to herself, and looked back over the town. If you're finished with chatting up your partner, I do believe we've got a town to liberate.

And just like that, her good mood dissipated. I thought I told you to get the hell out of my head.

Then try to a little more to keep your emotions in check. Every psion in this area can probably sense you. Who knew your secret was to comment on your looks?

Abby internally rolled her eyes. Do this again and I'll report you to Zhang. Anyway, you ready?

Yes, yes. I believe the command will be given in the next few seconds.

Sure enough, a voice came on her earpiece. "Begin the attack."

Joseph fired, and one of the snipers fell. All the aliens froze, and that gave him time to shoot several more in their heads, before they finally got wise and abandoned the roofs to get some real cover. With a yell the Resistance soldiers emerged from their ambush points, firing their gauss rifles at the unprepared alien horde.

Abby herself hefted her rifle and charged forward, feeling like she'd had a good night's sleep and was fully energized and ready for battle. Two more Mutons fell to the ground from headshots, and all the aliens seemed to be reacting much slower than usual. They shuffled towards the buildings for cover, haphazardly as if drunk, and their return fire was wildly inaccurate, as opposed to the Resistance soldiers, who were seeming to hit everything with pinpoint accuracy.

Herself and the Resistance soldiers charged into the town, several beginning to knock on doors and get the civilians themselves out, while the vanguard kept charging forward deeper into the city. Abby wasn't sure why she was feeling like this, but everything for her seemed focused and clear. Her mind was fully directed on the task at hand, and it was as if all her senses and reflexes were enhanced.

She could swear she heard the hiss of a plasma rifle charging and managed to pull the soldier in front of her back just as a lance of green plasma shot past. They turned to see one of three Andromedons lower his rifle, and order the other Mutons around him to open fire, as well as the other Andromedons behind him.

"Cover!" One of the soldiers shouted, and all of them slid into cover behind boxes, crates, pillars and houses. Abby swung out, aimed her rifle at one of the Mutons and sighted in in what felt like milliseconds before pulling the trigger and seeing the gauss rounds tear the unprotected flesh apart with a golden spurt of blood.

The Andromedons realized that something was wrong with how accurate these Humans were, and they themselves seemed to be affected as well, moving slower and reacting too late as gauss rounds hit their torsos and helmets. One had its helmet cracked, and the other two were leaking fluids. One of the Andromedons raised a fist towards them, and several green projectiles shot out.

"Acid!" Abby warned. "Get down!"

Most heeded her warning, but there were a few that screamed as the green chemical hit them and began eating through their padding and skin. Abby hissed as a new surge of energy swept through her and she swung out with her rifle again, and somehow knew each major weak point of the Andromedon before her, and somehow managed to shoot a gauss round at each one within seconds.

She hadn't been alone in the sudden increase in marksmanship, every other remaining soldier was affected as well, and the results were instantaneous. One of the masks of the Andromedons burst open, and the alien inside let out a shriek of agony before going silent. One Andromedon fell to the ground, joints on the armor ripped apart from sustained fire. The tank that was on the back of the last Andromedon exploded, and blew the top part of the helmet open, also killing the alien inside instantly.

The Resistance soldiers quickly pulled out grenades and threw them towards the damaged Andromedons, each one a perfect throw that landed in the cockpits of the suits themselves, frying the control systems before the AI could take over. Half a dozen soldiers sustained fire on the downed Andromedon, even as it crawled towards them, its legs destroyed.

But eventually the helmet broke, a grenade was tossed, and it crawled no longer.

There was silence, even as adrenaline pumped through her body.

What the hell was that?

She'd never felt like that, not at all during her time as a soldier, or anytime else for that matter. It had to have been the Chronicler. But even then she wasn't sure. She'd heard some of the soldiers describe what it was like to be under the influence of Patricia, but this seemed far more intense and effective than what she'd been told.

She clicked her earpiece. "What's the status of the teams? Casualties?"

The man on the other end actually sounded stunned. "Status is…ah, good, we did it. Teams are getting the civilians out now. We barely took any casualties. The aliens were seriously not expecting us. I'm wondering if these were a defective batch."

She breathed a sigh of relief, and looked around as if she expected the Chronicler to appear out of nowhere. She hadn't been sure what to expect but…he'd turned a small guerilla army of Humans with gauss weapons into a force capable to taking an alien-controlled town with almost no casualties.

Abby almost wondered if he could match Patricia in simple power.

Depends on the circumstances, Agent Gertrude, Patricia is powerful in her own right, but she does not understand subtlety like I do.

Abby wasn't even particularly mad at him entering her mind again. I don't suppose you could do that again?

She could swear she heard him laughing in her mind. Of course, Agent Gertrude. We both want the aliens off this world, after all.

Abby found herself nodding along. If for no other reason than she didn't want to antagonize him.

Anyone this powerful had to be treated carefully.

Doubly so if they could read your mind.

She just hoped he wasn't paying attention all the time.

---

Kabul, Afghanistan

When Oliver had joined up with XCOM, he had been expecting to fight aliens.

Clearly, that was no longer the case. And it made him uncomfortable.

He knew full well that the Middle East was, to be diplomatic, a mess. It needed to be reformed; it needed to be changed. But it seemed like the people in charge had a fundamental misunderstanding of how the best way to go about doing that would be. Oliver didn't consider himself a diplomat, but he was certain that pretty much any plan that he came up with was better than…this.

Far as he understood, this had originally been retribution from Israel in response to several Middle Eastern nations being linked to the assassination of many in their government. Assuming that the Israelis weren't lying, it was far past the point of retribution regardless. This was now ADVENT deciding to get rid of the problem once and for all.

Except that wouldn't solve the fucking problem.

The thing no one in ADVENT seemed to understand, or the Commander for that matter, was that the people weren't at fault here. The only ones at fault were the government, and yes, they should face some kind of punishment. But in reality, ADVENT was making no distinction between the two. Everyone was a potential enemy and Oliver knew that was only going to fester if ADVENT didn't change their act right now.

Yes, the citizens were going to be furious at them, what a fucking shock. Who could have guessed they'd be angry and afraid of the people literally invading their country.

Then there was the matter of this little mission, and for that matter, the extreme response against the militaries and leading government. The thing was, Oliver didn't necessarily disagree with it. To be completely honest, he had very little sympathy for the governments at this point. Yes, the war might be unfair; yes, it would be temporarily humiliating. But it did show him just how little they actually cared about their citizens.

Good leaders knew when they were defeated, and would surrender to protect their people. ADVENT, for all its faults, would honor deals. But since they hadn't surrendered, they were going to come down hard, and it was the people who were going to suffer. Ironic that the leaders who had brought this on themselves would be granted a relatively quick death, while the ones that lived would have to suffer under increased scrutiny for months.

Still, he wouldn't have personally killed the leaders. It wasn't as though they would pose a threat. But he could understand why ADVENT was done with them.

He looked around the skyranger at the XCOM team preparing to deploy. Most of them were newer recruits like him, with only a few who he knew were veterans. The Templar Chan was acting as the squad overseer, his Zweihander resting on his lap. The only other psions were Allison, who specialized in defense, although how much that would be needed was unknown, and Fatima, a telepath and one of the so-called "Furies".

Such charming names XCOM had for these people.

It spoke to ADVENT and XCOM's confidence that this mission only required a single XCOM squad and Lancer Team. Oliver hadn't heard of them before, but now knew they were essentially ADVENT's Special Forces. And, according to Antia, one of the Americans in the squad, the Lancers were all as genetically modified as much as some XCOM soldiers.

They weren't given a choice it seemed.

"Heads up," Burning Sky informed them. "Coming in for a landing. Looks like the Lancers have made their entrance."

Saar Aaron whistled, her voice almost excited. "Not wasting time, are they?"

"Everyone up!" Chan ordered, standing up and moving to the skyranger exit, even as the aircraft dipped. "Our orders are clear: Assist the Lancers in taking the capital, and execute the ruling government. No prisoners. Clear?"

"Yes, Overseer!" Was the affirmative.

Chan raised his Zweihander as the ramp descended. "Then deploy!"

All of them charged out into the sandy outskirts of the city. Burning Sky had been right, the Lancers had cleaned up nicely and Oliver got his first good look at them.

He recognized the armor design; it was from an Israeli prototype that had appeared a while ago. The armor itself had clearly been inspired by generation-2 XCOM armor, or whatever the design had been called before the Aegis iteration, but the helmet had a domed top, and was oddly reflective, with no visible place where the eyes or nose should go.

The other thing about the armor was that it was completely pitch black. No identifying marks or badges were on the armor, and the interesting thing was that many of these soldiers weren't carrying guns. Some were carrying melee weapons; longswords, maces, and some of those Peacekeeper stun batons, set to lethal mode.

Someone had clearly been inspired by the Templars.

Even their weapons were pitch-black. It was strange seeing swords and other medieval weapons with shining black blades, and laser weapons that didn't give any indication what they were. Several carried gauss rifles, but Oliver could see more were using pulse laser weapons.

And they were currently in the process of slaughtering the Afghan soldiers guarding the city outside. They were laughing off bullets, and cutting and shooting through them like they were toys. One Lancer cut through three soldiers with her sword within a few seconds, finishing each one off with a stab to the heart.

Two more Lancers were carving a group of six soldiers to pieces with their laser rifles, dismembering and decapitating at will. It was morbidly fascinating and efficient to watch. Fatima extended a hand as she walked, twisted her palm until it was facing the sky and closed it into a fist. The remaining soldiers suddenly clutched their ears as if they heard some loud noise.

All of them were quickly finished off by the Lancers.

Oliver did a quick count: There were twelve Lancers, and there were at least sixty Afghan soldiers lying dead on the sand. One of the Lancers, holding a laser rifle, walked up. "Welcome to the party, XCOM."

"A pleasure," Chan answered, resting the blade of his sword against his shoulder. "Although you could have saved some for us. Not fair if you have all the fun."

"Trust me," the man jabbed a thumb in the direction of the city. "There's plenty more where they came from. I've got a few more teams pushing at them from other entrances. We actually caught a group of officials trying to sneak out earlier. A few less to deal with now."

"No attempts of surrender?" Fatima asked curiously.

"None so far," he confirmed. "Not really surprising. Not sure how many of these guys speak English. Anyway, ready to get going?"

"When you are," Chan nodded.

"Overseer, if I may make a suggestion?" Fatima interrupted, raising a hand. At his nod, she continued. "If it makes it easier, I will remain out here and concentrate. I will be more effective utilizing my abilities here than in the field."

The Lancer cocked his helmet at her. "Who are you?"

"Fatima," she answered. "XCOM Psion, telepath."

"Ah," he nodded. "Up to you, Overseer, but I'm inclined to agree with her. A telepath is a damn powerful asset to have here."

"Then do it," Chan instructed. "Everyone else, let's move in!"

And with that, the team of XCOM and Lancer forces entered the city. Oliver could definitely tell already that this was not exactly a prosperous nation. The houses were old, chipped and falling apart, and he glimpsed some moving shapes inside through broken windows. Good, the civilians needed to stay out of this.

They rounded a corner and suddenly found themselves facing a small Afghan army of at least thirty soldiers, all in cover and even manning some mounted guns. At a shout all of them opened fire, and the rattling of machine-gun fire drowned out everything else.

The Lancers responded by charging forward, Chan leading the charge, now flaring with psionic energy; purple flames encircling his Zweihander. The rest of the soldiers fell to one knee or ducked into cover and returned fire. A purple shield was thrown up between them and the Afghan soldiers, clearly from Allison whose raised hand was wreathed in energy, which dissipated when she dissolved the shield once they were in position.

By the time Oliver had even lined up a shot, the Lancers and Chan had pretty much destroyed the opposing soldiers. They were woefully unprepared for attacks at close range and suffered getting their limbs chopped off or skulls bashed in from the Lancers and Templar. One screamed in agony as one Lancer stabbed him with a lethal stun baton, and two didn't have any time to react as Chan decapitated them with a single swipe of his Zweihander.

"This is completely ridiculous," Min-Su Song, another newer soldier muttered. "At least they could try and put up a fight."

Oliver didn't know if that was something they should be hoping for, but it was laughable how utterly invincible they were here. China was going to be more freaked out than they probably already were once word got to them of what had happened.

With the soldiers dead, the Lancers and XCOM advanced deeper into the city, and Fatima made her presence known via each soldier they came across. They were curled up on the ground, clutching their ears, muttering to themselves or screaming as the case went. All of them were executed with single shots to the head.

Oliver found it surreal walking through streets of soldiers just lying on the ground, driven down by such pain and misery that wouldn't end. He shivered. What those psions could do now scared him. They were people, but they weren't like other Humans. No one who could do something like this was normal.

It was a good thing she was on their side.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel," Saar muttered to herself. "Good job Fatima."

Up ahead was the Presidential Palace, the home to the current President and staff. The National Assembly was where the legislature was, and Oliver knew the other Lancer teams were converging on that specific location. Although at this time, he would expect any legislators to be in their homes or trying to flee.

He wished them good luck.

The guards were similarly debilitated, and were executed quickly. Oliver wondered if everyone inside was similarly affected, and the moment they entered the Palace itself, he got his answer. There were people strewn all around, men and women of all classes and positions lying on the ground, crying, gasping and yelling in their language, likely begging for some release from the torment.

Chills ran up his spine as he listened to the voices, not needing to comprehend the words to understand what they wanted. At a gesture from Chan, XCOM opened fire on those on the ground, bringing them some final solace.

Then they proceeded upward, and did the same to any they came across. The Lancers refrained from overly painful deaths with their melee weapons, but did pull out pistols and execute all those they came across. All of them were silent as they carried out the grim task of execution. Even Saar and Min-Su, who'd complained about it being too easy, were quiet as they shot what essentially amounted to defenseless people.

Each room they swept, each floor cleared. Oliver didn't even know if they'd actually killed the President yet. He wasn't sure he would stand out from the other bodies, and in the end, it didn't matter much.

Everyone in the building was going to die, and Oliver didn't quite care anymore if one got out alive. If ADVENT wanted to make a statement, they had made it today. None of them would forget this day for the rest of their lives.

And briefly, very briefly, as they shot helpless men and women alike, Oliver wondered not if he was doing the right thing, but if he was on the right side.

This was nothing compared to the aliens, surely. But there had to be a better way to unite humanity than this.

---

Bolivia Peacekeeper Outpost

"Celebration?"

Jaylin looked up at Leon bringing her a glass filled with some kind of drink. "For what?" She asked. "And more importantly, what is that?"

He took a sip from his own glass. "This, Jaylin, is the local alcoholic beverage. I don't remember the name, but it is exquisite. We're off-duty now, so why not?"

She smirked and took the glass. "And what's the occasion?"

"Well, essentially, the 'war', if would could call it that, is essentially over," Leon explained satisfactorily. "So pretty much, we did our job, and we'll probably be moved somewhere else. Not much use for Riot Control in a docile population."

"Huh," Jaylin said, taking a tentative sip from that glass. It was…interesting for sure. She didn't usually drink unfamiliar beverages, but this wasn't bad. Very tangy. "The people here were certainly subdued easily."

"That's if you buy the main story," Leon amended knowingly. "I'm guessing it's more of a propaganda thing than anything else. People here are still angry, but they aren't going to do anything stupid, hopefully. They'll calm down once some kind of normalcy has been restored. Now that Brazil has control of these countries, it should help normalize things."

"Hopefully," Jaylin nodded, taking another sip. "I'm just wondering where we'll get sent next."

"The goddamn Middle East," Samantha interrupted, marching over without introduction, a different drink in her own hand. "You guys blind or something?"

Jaylin didn't take offense. Samantha had a very…abrasive personality, and didn't always mean the insults she said. Or at least meant them in sort of an endearing way. Leon seemed to find it funny. "Well, considering we've been on guard the past six hours, no," he answered with a grin. "So do enlighten us, since you clearly want to."

"Stop treating this as a joke," she almost snarled. "ADVENT just wiped out the governments of Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan and Pakistan at once. And they took back that city in Japan using some kind of soldiers from Hell, and reestablished lines with Portland."

Leon almost spat his drink out. "The fuck?!"

Jaylin was equally stunned. "How? How did they do that at the same time?"

"I don't fucking know!" Samantha answered, exasperated. "But XCOM was involved. My guess is that they told ADVENT that the war was wasting time and to end it. Word is that they were heavily involved."

"Back up," Leon said, raising a hand. "What was that about 'soldiers from hell'?"

Samantha took a long drink, and set it down at the table with a thud. "Well! Apparently these new hell soldiers have flamethrowers that shoot fire hot enough to melt Andromedons. ADVENT calls them 'Purifiers', like this is some kind of witch hunt."

Jaylin wondered just how tipsy Samantha was right now. "Sure, Samantha," she placated. "Perhaps it melted the buildings they were in as well." It sounded just as plausible. As nice as something like that would be, she was pretty sure Samantha had misread something, which in her state, didn't really mean much.

"Oh, I think it actually did," she clarified, her eyes widening. "Some of the footage released is amazing."

"Perhaps we should go back to the fact that ADVENT just ended the war with the Middle East," Jaylin redirected. "That's going to seriously improve the war effort."

"And our jobs are going to be so much fun," Leon said sarcastically. "I have a feeling terrorism is going to make a comeback. Somehow I don't think the people are going to be happy to see us."

"Well, too bad," Samantha quipped. "About time someone brought some actual order to that place. Maybe with the governments dead, some progress can actually be made."

"Man, people are going to be shocked," Leon said in an exaggerated voice. "Women driving in Saudi Arabia? Can you imagine such a thing?"

They all shared a laugh at that.

"Well, I'm going to get out of this armor," Leon said. "Makes us look all intimidating, but it's a bit heavy after a few hours."

"Yeah, I'll come with you," Jaylin nodded, grabbing her helmet. "But I'm getting some sleep after this."

"What the hell, I'll come along," Samantha said, trotting along beside them, noticeably smaller since she was out of her armor. "I've got nothing better to do."

Jaylin shook her head, and smiled, while opening the door and they stepped out into the base courtyard. There were still plenty of Peacekeepers on and training, even this late in the evening. She nodded to some of the guards, and glanced down to adjust the stun baton on her belt. "So a question," Samantha began. "Since you're-"

A shot rang out and Samantha jerked back and fell to the ground, a red hole directly in her forehead, her mouth still open mid-speech. "Sniper!" Jaylin yelled, throwing her helmet on and glancing frantically around, before looking back at Samantha, who she could see was clearly dead. It was a perfect headshot; she'd probably died instantly.

More shots rang out, and she looked around for the source. Another yell of pain and she saw two Peacekeeper guards fall to the ground. Jaylin raised her arm and established her riot shield. It could take ballistic fire and even some gauss shots. From that mild safety, she actually glimpsed a figure moving around the base, ducking behind crates and armories.

She couldn't make out the gender, but they were definitely wearing some kind of hooded cloak, and it was ruddy and brown, tints of green were also present, perhaps for camouflage. "On your six!" Leon yelled, and she spun around and saw another one of the figures, raising their rifle at them. Under the hood she saw it was wearing some kind of mask, one with yellow lights for eyes, and it looked like it was some kind of gas mask.

It fired and her riot shield cracked, but absorbed the shot. It immediately dashed away once the shot missed, and both she and Leon fired at the escaping figure, even as more Peacekeepers were running out to defend the base which was now under attack.

"Where the hell are they?!" Leon yelled as they stood back to back, as more shots seemed to come out of nowhere, hitting Peacekeepers from odd angles and velocities. The good news was that they weren't outright killing them anymore, but they were causing damage and they kept vanishing and reappearing like ghosts.

But the tide was now turning as more and more showed up. Finally the shooting seemed to stop, yet they didn't have any bodies to show for it, just the corpses of their friends and comrades.

"Is that it?" Leon asked cautiously. "What the-"

Several different explosions cut off whatever he was going to say, as almost every single vehicle they had suddenly exploded in a barrage of rubber and shrapnel. The fuel depot also went up in a massive orange explosion. Jaylin had fallen to one knee to steady herself, riot shield still up and looking around for any sign of a renewed attack as the smoke began to clear.

The base courtyard was now riddled with flaming metal and rubber, the smell of smoke and burning fuel filled the air, and now that things were quieting down, the yells and screams of injured Peacekeepers became audible. Other Peacekeepers were now running to help provide medical assistance and put out fires.

"Terrorists." Jaylin spat.

"Fuck," Leon muttered, as he knelt down and closed Samantha's eyes. "I have a feeling we'll still be here for a while. This can't be tolerated."

"Agreed," Jaylin stated, retracting her riot shield. "We won't let this stand. Come on, let's go help them." And they rushed forward to help put out the fires, all under the watchful eyes of the shadows in the distance.

---

Forward Observation Station, Mars Orbit

Caelior, was, to put it mildly, displeased.

The Battlemaster was as well, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. He was rather impressed XCOM and ADVENT had managed to put a comprehensive plan together in so little time. He supposed this escalation was his fault, as XCOM likely felt they had little choice if they wanted to survive. Still, not only had ADVENT managed to win their little war in the Middle East, but also push the Collective completely off Japan, reestablish connections to Portland, and there had even been a town in Australia liberated.

All problems. Portland wasn't unexpected, and neither was Japan, to an extent. But Australia being compromised this badly was a problem Caelior had neglected, and the Battlemaster knew it would only get worse the longer it was allowed to fester.

"What should I do?" Caelior finally asked.

The Battlemaster was, admittedly, surprised. He was expecting a rant from Caelior, a tirade promising fire and vengeance. Not a request for advice.

Perhaps he had been listening after all.

"What would you do, first?" He asked, curious what the young Ethereal was thinking.

"I want to burn Japan to the ground," Caelior hissed, the air around him vibrating as his anger manifested. "I want to tear ADVENT apart piece by piece for this defeat. I want to flatten Sydney as punishment for their continued defiance. This is what I want to do, Battlemaster, but I do not think it is the right thing to do. I am too angry to make a rational decision."

The Battlemaster nodded approvingly. "You are learning, good. You are right. This should not be tolerated, yet you must understand this comes with war. The enemy will retaliate, and sometimes you will lose. It does not matter how primitive or inferior you think they are, they can surprise you, especially the Humans."

He paused. "You have been lax in Australian security. The resistance must be eliminated, and you have failed to adapt. I have not intervened yet, but I feel that if you do not make adjustments, I will have to. This is not something you can solve with armies, but with the Zararch, the Special Operators and other Vitakara units. Andromedons and Mutons are ill-suited to the task of fighting a guerilla force. My suggestion is to work with the Zar'Chon. He is an expert on these matters, and will be able to assist in solving your problems there. As for Japan…"

The Battlemaster appraised the Ethereal before him. "The Humans believe I am the worst they can face. That perception should change. You are more powerful than me, and the time to hide is over. The Humans believe they have won now. Tear down their victory in front of them. Attack Japan personally, exact your revenge on the Humans. Remind ADVENT and XCOM that they are inferior to us, regardless of what the traitor Aegis provides them."

"Then that is what I will do," Caelior nodded, his voice filled with venom. "But I will not go in without a plan. I learned from my last failure. Their…additions should be taken into account. But their armies will not be able to stop me, not this time."

A haptic map of Japan appeared, and Caelior began appraising it, already calling up unit figures to simulate strategies. "Japan will fall once more, and the Humans will know my power."

Dramatic, but he had spirit. The Battlemaster watched with approval as the young Ethereal began working on the plan to assault Japan, with him providing advice when asked. He almost felt sorry for the Humans, but then again, he had to figure out how to deal with Portland being secured.

These new flame units were of a potential concern, even to him. He would have to solve that before entering the field again. ADVENT was stepping up their game, and now he must respond in kind.

---

Switzerland, ADVENT Command

It was done.

Saudia shut off her computer and let out a breath. Everything had gone perfectly, or as perfect as could be expected. The Middle East was secured, Japan was secured, the Australian town had been liberated, and Portland was reinforced. She could not have imagined a more perfect outcome to this operation.

There would be challenges ahead. The Middle East, even if it was under ADVENT control, was going to have to be significantly reformed for any hope of progress to be made. It would likely take years at a minimum, but there was now actual hope that it was possible. She would give that project to someone who had more experience in that than her, but that was in the future.

The more important thing was that a good chunk of the ADVENT Military was now ready to be deployed against the aliens. The Peacekeepers could almost certainly handle the Middle East once the military occupation ended, and any terrorist threats that popped up in response, and she had no doubt they would.

The Purifiers had performed beyond expectations, even if they had rendered the city uninhabitable for a few days. Still, it was a small price to pay for driving the aliens off Japan completely.

Now she had to think about retaliation. The aliens wouldn't take these defeats lightly, and getting kicked off Japan in such a humiliating fashion would likely incite some kind of revenge. ADVENT had to be ready, and she suspected the Battlemaster would be making an appearance shortly. Nonetheless this was a major boon to the propaganda effort and general morale.

This showed the aliens could be beaten, and that perception was powerful now.

Once the PRIEST Program was up and running, ADVENT wouldn't have to rely on XCOM for this kind of crucial support.

Privately, she had realized just how lucky they were that the XCOM psions were actually on their side. Reading the reports of how Patricia had effectively taken out the government and an entire military compound single-handedly, and how Fatima had paralyzed the entire opposing army, or how the three psions in Japan had shrugged off plasma fire with their shield like nothing…yes, they were very lucky the psions were working with them.

The Commander had said he was refocusing his efforts away from his Manchurian Program, and after seeing this display…she was wondering if that was really a wise idea. XCOM only recruited from the best, and the best were decent, if somewhat xenophobic, people. They were largely reliable. ADVENT wouldn't have that luxury. Out of all the people in the world, even now, there would be some who used psionics for their own gain.

Which would be a problem.

She'd have to speak to him about that, since she agreed that something needed to be done to keep them in check.

But right now, she needed to make sure another problem was at least being taken care of before she could relax and enjoy her victory. The Middle East had been captured, and for the first time since the height of the Caliphate, it was…stable. For now at least. However, that was the easy part. Now they had to not only modernize the nations, but also undo decades of division, hate, and destructive religious influences.

Not exactly a problem suitable in the midst of an alien invasion. If there wasn't an alien invasion it would be a challenge. With an alien invasion it was going to be a nightmare to do correctly. Yet this was going to be the largest reformation in Human history, so there could be few mistakes, if any. Despite knowing quite a bit about the region, she knew she wasn't suited to solving its problems, and while she was sure Stein or Zara would have preferred they just lock down the area with Peacekeepers until the war was decided one way or another, that was not solving the problem.

The Middle East had resources, and more importantly, people. They had engineers, scientists and managers. They had the potential to be productive citizens of ADVENT, although she supposed that right now they would not exactly be keen on such an offer. That would have to be changed, and the better ways she could see to dispel that notion would be to give them a problem to solve, and integrate them fully into ADVENT.

Luckily, there was someone that Saudia felt confident entrusting with such an enormous task, and she should be arriving right now. Her office door chimed, and Saudia pressed a button and it slid open and in walked a woman with pale skin and long blonde hair, dressed in an ADVENT uniform, carrying with her a tablet.

Karen Marshall, former Administrator of USAID, and now Head of the ADVENT Modernization and Development Agency. Saudia had found no better person for such a position, and as an extra bonus, Karen had been heavily involved in Middle Eastern aid and development before being promoted to Administrator of USAID.

If anyone knew how to fix the problems there, it would be her.

"Chancellor," she greeted, with an extended hand as Saudia approached her. "Good to hear it's all over."

"For now, anyway," Saudia answered, as she accepted the outstretched hand. "But thank you for coming so quickly."

Karen gave a small smile. "Chancellor, I've spent a good portion of my life hoping for the day to have this opportunity, I'm not going to miss it even if it's at an obscene hour of the morning."

"You do believe it can be done even during the invasion?" Saudia asked. "I understand it isn't an ideal time."

"Not ideal, but not impossible," Karen negated with a wave, opening up her tablet. "As it happens, it's for the best. Peacekeepers will suffice for any law enforcement needed. The last thing these people need to see are more soldiers." She paused. "Admittedly, the Peacekeepers don't look much different, but it's all in how it's presented."

She gestured her over. "So, Chancellor, the first thing to establish is boundaries. Obviously these nations can't govern themselves now, and not all of the borders should stay the same. So for the moment, here are the current territories drawn up." Saudia looked down as Karen continued.

"Most of the national borders will remain in some capacity," she said. "For the sake of simplicity, we're pursuing a USA approach, which is composed of multiple states opposed to individual nations. It will be easier to direct a region-wide effort under a singular nation and policy."

She indicated the map. "With that said, there are going to be some inter-state changes and additions. Borders will be decided less along arbitrary lines, and based on ethnic and religious lines. The Kurds, for example, will gain their own autonomous state. We're still working out the exact details, but the result should be a region which has borders which make sense, and were not arbitrarily decided."

Saudia nodded. "It seemed fair. Israel has been a consistent ally since the beginning, and this seemed like a fair trade for their assistance."

Saudia nodded. "The division makes sense from a geographical perspective. For now I assume ADVENT will fully control the government?"

"That I have not decided yet," Karen admitted. "At this current point, it is going to be a mixture of willing local officials, and ADVENT overseers. This is going to be further complicated by the cooperation of the civilian population - or lack thereof. This is an exceptionally complicated situation, and it will be months before we have something tangibly concrete - and that's if we're absurdly fast."

Saudi frowned. "Are you certain you are not overcomplicating this?"

"If anything, I'm oversimplifying it," Karen sighed. "Chancellor, if I may, I don't believe you understand just how large a project this will be. What do you estimate the timeframe of completion will be?"

"In an alien war?" Saudia paused. "A minimum of five years."

Karen let out a laugh. "Chancellor, try twenty."

Saudia's frown turned deeper. "That seems excessively long."

Karen rubbed her head. "You said you wanted to do this right? Well, this is what it will take. If you haven't figured it out before, the Middle East is a mess, which I will add, was not helped by this war. Your decision to completely wipe out the ruling governments, tactical as it was, has alone set us back several years, even if some of the Saudi royals emerged intact."

She tapped her tablet. "That being said, it may be for the best. We're starting from scratch here, and you have to understand, Chancellor, that they can't simply be turned into productive ADVENT states overnight. Some of these countries don't have democracies, or they are so corrupt they might as well not have governments at all. And no, it's not as simple as establishing a democracy and going with it. These people don't trust those in power, or have been conditioned to not know any other way, and the fact that ADVENT is seen as a predominantly Western power doesn't help here."

She took a breath. "You have to change their mindsets, Chancellor. You can't just give them the tools for success without showing them how to use them. It's like giving a gun to someone who doesn't know how to use it and telling him to defend himself with it. Sure, he might figure it out and save himself, but he just as easily might hurt himself and make it more difficult in the long run."

Saudia was not expecting to essentially be rebuked here, though took it in stride. "In that case…what is your plan?"

"For the current plan, ADVENT will control all matters at a national level," Karen said. "None of the countries are capable of doing such, and in the final phases, they will transition to a fully-fledged nation state. But for now, the most important thing is education. The rural areas especially have uneducated populations, and even the cities have had their perceptions warped by the former governments in power, as well as Caliphate-era Islam. That has to be undone, and that is accomplished by proper schools for the children, and classes for adults."

Karen sighed. "This is without mentioning that all the negative perceptions they have of ADVENT need to be undone. A lot of damage was done due to your overzealous Peacekeepers and…military strategy, no offense intended, but you need to understand those decisions have consequences here. This can only be undone by ADVENT helping them rebuild, and more importantly, modernize. Buildings need to be brought up to code, there needs to be reliable utilities, electricity, and food supplies. This applies more to the rural areas than capitals and cities, with perhaps the exception of countries like Afghanistan or Iraq."

Saudia didn't exactly agree that the so-called 'overzealous' Peacekeepers were entirely a bad thing, but Karen was not a military strategist, and far more empathetic than she was, so she refrained from saying anything. "And what of the government?"

"They need to be led by their own," Karen said immediately, nodding to herself in emphasis as she looked down at her tablet. "I'm rather impressed the Commander didn't execute the defecting Saudi Royal. That is more of a boon to us than you know. He will be instrumental in changing Saudi Arabia for the better. At this point, they will be far more willing to listen to someone who looks like them, and better yet, someone they recognize, than one of us. We simply need to identify leaders who will work with us to make this possible."

"Good," Saudia said. "Anything else?"

"While you would no doubt like to see their culture completely eradicated, I would advise against that," Karen cautioned. "Much of that perception is due to the Islamic influence that's permeated the countries. I do agree that it should be...refocused, but there are other aspects we should not ignore. We just need to emphasize the positive aspects and negate the negative ones. It will give them both a sense of independence from other ADVENT nations, and give them pride in their country. We should not force them to change important aspects of who they are for no reason other than that you feel your way is superior. The region experienced a short-lived cultural renaissance under the Inheritor King, perhaps that could be emulated."

"That was under the Caliphate."

"The Caliphate is viewed differently there, Chancellor. There was a period where the Caliphate was, if not up to our standards, an improvement on the region." She paused. "Until the Inheritor King died. Then it all went downhill. But we should not forget the influence he had on the region; our rebuilding should keep that in mind.

Saudia pursed her lips. "Fair enough. If their so-called 'culture' is not a detriment to ADVENT, then I see no reason to change it. But you will work with Stein to make sure that is the case. As much as you know the region, Stein knows security and will be more unbiased than you when it comes to that. You see people, she will see vulnerabilities. She might not always be right, but I will not compromise the security of ADVENT because we wanted to appease some nations."

Karen gave a nod. "Understood, Chancellor. But I'm well aware of the policy, you can trust I'll keep it in mind. Is there anything else?"

"No," Saudia shook her head. "I believe you covered everything important, and I will ensure you will have what you need to see this accomplished."

"Thank you, Chancellor," Karen answered, inclining her head. "I'm looking forward to starting."

"As am I," Saudia agreed. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Karen chuckled. "I'm going to need all the help I can get."

---

Nakashibetsu, Japan

Duri awoke to the sound of klaxons blaring.

He wiped his eyes and stared dumbfounded at the door, hoping against hope that it didn't mean that they were under attack. It had been mere days since they drove the aliens off Japan.

They couldn't be back already?

Right?

He quickly woke everyone up, although the klaxon had already done that for him, and they all got armored up, in various stages of disbelief. Duri had expected the aliens to attack sometime again, but this was supposed to drive them off for a while. It wasn't actually supposed to be a quick retaliation. They were not prepared for this.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Cara said as she put on her helmet. "Anyone else?"

"Understatement of the week," Kang said grimly. "I guess we might have pissed off the aliens a little too much this time."

"We should have guessed fire was their weakness," Johan said lightly. "I really hope we still have some of those Purifiers around."

"Purifiers aren't what's needed," Duri shook his head. "We need those psions."

"Yes," Beatriz said, checking her sniper rifle. "XCOM better be here, otherwise I think that this time, the aliens aren't going to be beaten so easily."

---

Supplementary Material

The Advent Directive

SECTION 8: ADVENT Military

Subsection 8.4: Directive

Overview: The ADVENT Military performs two major functions: To defend ADVENT and its citizens from military threats of all types, and to terminate those in opposition to ADVENT by any means necessary. The ADVENT Military must follow these two functions without fail to achieve a safe and secure society.

Military Strategy and Limitations: The ADVENT Military is not constrained in the methods they use to defeat enemies of the State. There are no limitations on utilizing experimental or dangerous technology and weaponry in combat, provided they have been proven to be effective and are a minimum risk for soldiers to use.

The ADVENT Military is authorized to strike areas with known civilian populations as long as one of the following conditions are met (Note that this doesn't apply to Special Forces, Intelligence, or operations where no civilian casualties are expected):

1. The civilian population has been notified that their region is a military target

2. The civilian population is actively harboring or aiding the military target in question

3. The mission is time sensitive with a time window of twelve hours or less

ADVENT Military Officers have the freedom to construct their strategy as they feel is appropriate. Whenever possible, civilian casualties should be reduced, but if necessary, there are guidelines in place to provide additional options.

Enemy Personnel: There is no requirement to accept the surrender of enemy combatants during combat. Surrender must only be upheld if negotiated with respective enemy Officials beforehand. ADVENT is under no obligation to provide additional services or rights to enemy personnel and reserves the right to treat them as needed. Note that specific directions can be given by ADVENT Officers.

Enemy Governments: Governments must be offered a surrender twice: Once at the start of the recognized conflict, and once when the capital or center of government is marked as a military target. Other surrender opportunities are not required, and are subject to be given at the discretion of the commanding officer.

If necessary, the execution of the entire governmental structure, or any specific elements or people is permitted. However, the government in question must have refused surrender at all opportunities. Note that if this is pursued, an additional offer of surrender must be given before the execution of such an operation.

Hostage Situations or Usage of Human Shields: ADVENT does not negotiate with enemies of the state during combat, and under no circumstances is the presence of hostages and/or hostile forces using human shields to change mission objectives or parameters unless circumstances are extraneous. Attempts should be made to minimize civilian casualties, but it is not at the expense of the mission objectives.