A/N: Yep... Yep... I'm aware...

See you in the A/N Notes...

A Pile of Empty Brass | Sora no shinchū no yama

空の真鍮の山

Chapter 6

"As The World Watched"

Part 2

"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf" – George Orwell

Location: Combined Arms and Training Center Fuji (Camp Fuji)

Building 4694

Squad bay assigned to JGSDF Detachment.

Time: 11:46

Severtson peaked his head over the cheering crowd.

Two females of the two different factions wrestled in the middle of the squad bay, where both Japanese and Canadian troops, among a few other nationalities, made a ring of jeering and shouting soldiers that surrounded the fighters.

Sergeant Shino Kuribayashi, representing the Japanese side, and Private Barbara Shepard, representing the Canadian side.

Kuribayashi had Shepard in a rear naked choke, the Japanese woman gritting her teeth as she fought to hook her legs to immobilize the Canadian.

"Tap out! Tap out!" One of the Jietai shouted, his Oakley glasses fell off as he shook his head just a little too hard, and he sheepishly knelt down to grab it off the ground before another soldier could step on them.

"Get her, Barb! Get her!" Colten shouted, crouching over at the edge of the circle of men and women in an attempt to make sure his boo-thing heard him.

Shepard seethed through gritted teeth, saliva drooling from the corner of her mouth as she used both hands to pry off the death grip the Japanese CQB expert held around her neck. In an instant, Shepherd had reversed the situation, batting away Kuribayashi's legs that were trying to hook into hers and turning into the choke until the both of them were face to face. Kuribayashi immediately tried trapping the Canadian into a closed guard with her legs, but the Shepherd slipped past and came to sit on top of the Japanese soldier.

Shepard's movements had begun to slow, as so had Kuribayashi's. Kuribayashi had tried repeatedly to bump the Canadian Scot off of her, but each time Shepherd had posted an arm to stop herself from falling flat and retracted that arm fast enough that Kuribayashi had no time to grab it.

Severtson checked his watch.

"Shit dude, they've been going at it for six minutes!" he yelled to their Company Signaller, Corporal Silas Nguyen, who held up a cellphone, recording every second of the fight.

"Shepherd's slowing down, man, I can see it!" Nguyen yelled back, the young Vietnamese-Canadian soldier readjusting the thick glasses he wore with his free hand.

"Fuck you, she's going to beat the Jap!"

"Yeah? You gonna put money where your mouth is, Master Corporal?"

"Twenty dollars!" Severtson yelled. "And don't call me that. Same rules as the mess!"

"This ain't the fucking mess, shit they don't even have a JRs here!"

"Deal or no deal?"

"Deal! Fuck you!"

Severtson turned away from Nguyen and leaned in closer to the fight, minding the crowd around him. Both ladies had de-bloused prior to their grappling match, their undershirts damp from how much they'd sweated since their match began. Both had unkempt and frizzled hair, strands of loose hair dangling from their tied-up ponytails.

Their movements were even slower than before. Shepard lazily batted away an attempt by Kuribayashi to grab her arm.

"Grab her hair!" Gagnon shouted, who was immediately nudged in the rib by Burton.

"Do not do that!" Burton commanded in a tone unlike that of a father scolding a small child, "I want this fight to remain clean and fair!"

"Fuckin' 'ell…!" Shepard cursed between breaths, a strand of loose hair dangling from her tomato-red freckled face.

"Give… Up?!" Kuribayashi panted, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead as she flashed a tired but cocky smile.

"As if, half-pint!" Shepard growled, as she rapidly fell to her side and tried for an arm bar, but halfway through the execution, Kuribayashi slipped her body in just the right angle to make the arm bar useless.

Kuribayashi let out a haughty laugh, "This… half-pint… is kicking your ass…!"

"Why you little-"

"She's getting you worked up, Barb!" Colten shouted, "Don't fall for it!"

The redhead bit her tongue, opting to remain silent as she struggled to figure out a way out of her current situation.

Nguyen whistled, cheering—probably for Kuribayashi, since he had money on her—as the two ladies remained deadlocked in their position, neither side nudging as one tried to find an opening.

Severtson had to hand it to both of them, they sure had a lot of stamina to keep going at this for seven minutes now, neither of them wanting to give up or allow their opponent an opening to get it over with.

When Kuribayashi and Shepard bumped into each other during the 4th of July holiday a month ago, both of them were ecstatic about competing in the ground fighting tournament, only to be disappointed when both sides had already submitted the names of the troops competing in the tournament. Neither Japan nor Canada ever faced off against each other, Japan having been beaten by Korea, Canada being beaten by America. Both ladies had claimed that if they'd fought, neither of their sides would have lost.

Naturally, this had caused both ladies to glare daggers at each other, both immediately declaring that they could beat each other over a ground fighting match. They shook hands on it, vowing that they'd ground fight each other before the Canadian DET were to return back home once the op was completed.

Thus, here they were, duking it out in the middle of the squad bay as neither side dared relent.

Both ladies panted over each other, both having a smirk that bordered between predatory and admiration.

"Hey, break it up!"

Severtson darted his head towards the loud voice that echoed through the squad bay, seeing Lieutenant Saint-Hilaire at the entrance to the Japanese barracks.

"Sergeant Burton!" St-Hilaire shouted. "Get the platoon outside, formed up. Everybody."

Severtson noticed the anxiousness of their platoon commander's voice. He glanced around the squad bay to make sure none of his section mates had wandered off.

Burton spoke first, "Is everything alright, sir?"

"Tokyo is under attack." St-Hilaire answered, then, he narrowed his eyes at Nguyen. "Nguyen, Company Commander's been looking for you. Might want to get a move on."

The squad bay had been silent for a split second, the lieutenant's words lingering as he took his leave

"What?!"

"Nani?!"

Both Japanese and Canadians erupted in a choir of murmurs, some of the Japanese troops translating what St-Hilaire had just dropped on them for those who couldn't understand English.

"3VP, file it outside!" Burton commanded, slipping on his beret as the Canadians proceeded to gather their belongings.

Severtson grabbed his beret before walking over towards Colten, who lent Shepard a hand up after she had rolled off of Kuribayashi. Nguyen handed the redhead her blouse, Shepard catching a few breaths before following the rest of the squad outside.

"This ain't another fuckin' drill, is it?!" Shepard asked, sliding her beret on as they walked outside, "L-T is bullshitting!"

"You think it's the Chinese?!" Gagnon piped up, "Is it because the Japanese shot down their weather balloon?!"

"We don't know it's the Chinese!" Graham snapped, shooting down the Gagnon's speculation, "Don't go and start the rumour mill!"

"Dude, I seriously doubt the Chicoms would go to war over a weather balloon," Nguyen added, making sure his beret was presentable, "I mean, If they do, they're even more retarded than we gave them credit for."

"Hey, Miao! tell your people to chill!" Trottier nudged at the annoyed Chinese-Canadian woman of their section.

"I don't speak for them! My family fled hellhole for reason!" Miao shouted in stereotypical Chinese English.

"That's going to look bad on your social credit!" Nguyen quipped, casting a grin at Miao, who only gave him the same annoyed look as their Section 2iC.

"Your family fled Vietnam during the fall. I don't want to hear it from you!"

Nguyen gave her a cheese-eating grin, "Better dead than red!"

"Yeah, and isn't Captain Connors looking for you right about now?"

Nguyen blanched, "Aw shit. See you guys later!"

"Alright, get in formation, everyone! Don't want to keep Sergeant Burton waiting!" Severtson shouted, filling in his spot as section commander. The rest of the soldiers proceeded to fall in, Burton taking accountability as Severtson took out his phone.

Multiple notifications were visible on his lock screen, several of which were from friends and family. But that wasn't what really caught his attention.

BREAKING: TOKYO UNDER ATTACK!

Severtson swallowed the knot forming in his throat.

So this wasn't a drill. This was no shit actually happening.

Who the hell…?

He opened his phone, going into the news articles detailing the attack.

He narrowed his eyes upon reading the first paragraph of the article, then his eyebrows raised several inches when he gazed upon the images plastered around the article at random.

In one of the pictures, a large marble structure resembling a gateway stood in the middle of an intersection, the design looking straight out of a history textbook covering the Roman Empire. It easily took up the entire four-lane road, stretching to the edge of the sidewalks.

But what really caught his attention was a loose brigand of men, all dressed in late Roman-styled legionnaire armour, donning various swords, spears, and pikes.

And then, of course, the wyverns depicted flying around the city skyline.

"What the fuck?…" Severtson muttered, losing the words that could convey what he was reading.

An elaborate hoax? Some twisted joke gone horribly wrong? No way could this actually be real. He could buy that the CCP had finally lost their minds and decided to attack Japan. He could maybe even buy that some terrorist group was carrying out an attack.

But a medieval army that resembled the Byzantine era? Along with dragons supporting them as if they were cavalry? Surely this was a PSYOP campaign of some sort.

Right?

He googled "Tokyo attack", his search results popping up with multiple reputable news sites reporting live of the alleged chaos going around them, all depicting similar images of what'd previously seen.

No. Fucking. Way.

He spotted an image of several horses charging at a line of Japanese policing officers clad in riot gear, the dirty-blonde section commander nearly dropping his jaw upon inspecting the horses closer.

Are those fucking centaurs?!

"Yo, Severtson!?" Colten's voice brought him out his cloud bubble, "You good, dude?"

"You…" he struggled to find the words, opting to just flip his phone over for the Med-tech to look over, "You're not going to believe this shit…"

Location: Building 1358

Squad bay assigned to the 82nd Airborne Detachment.

Time: 11:51

"Don't you want to be a lawyer? They have to know stuff like this."

"The whole damn dead language?"

"It's more than a dead language! It's spawned Portuguese, Romanian, French-"

"Ew."

She pressed her shoulder into his, somewhat affectionately, somewhat irritated. He kept his gaze on the book, the corner of his eye noting the somewhat exposed thighs not covered by her skirt. His teenage mind went against desire and forced his eyes to view the library's wooden table, the books on Latin sitting on its top remaining open; The pale bust of Marcus Tullius Cicero staring back at him in what felt like silent judgment.

"Look, maybe this lawyer stuff isn't for me... too much time, and... mom needs help at home more often than not."

"Army life is going to take as much if not more, now come on. From the top..."

"Lily, I don't-"

"In propriis verbis, quaeso."

"Exercitus melius prodest?"

Lily shut the book closed, and turned to him.

"Why do you keep bringing up the Army?"

His dark eyes drifted away from her piercing azure glare.

"I'm... I'm going to enlist."

She stared at him in silence.

"Mom's okay with it, and-"

Without a word, she began picking up the other books and packing them into her backpack.

"Lily-"

She slumped over, facing away from him.

"I told you... I told you so many times, I can't... I can't handle that."

"I-"

"I get it... believe me, I do... but you have to understand that I'm not going to sit around all alone at home, watching the news alone, happy I have family benefits to compensate for you not being there!"

He felt his hands ball into fists.

"I don't know, Dennis... I just don't. You live with your mom, you know what happens when soldiers don't come back."

He didn't say anything, his vision blurring.

She turned to him, teary-eyed.

"You really think I could handle that?" she asked, then, half-laughing, "I cried at the end of Toy Story for Christ's sake... I can't handle you going off to Afghanistan or Syria. You know that."

He swallowed the knot in his throat, and with a pang of regret, he said "You know my dad... he didn't tell me much, but... right now I think we need people like him."

Lily nodded at him, wiping her tears as she said "And you have to do it."

"Lily-"

"I told you... I get it... I just can't... I just can't handle that."

He nodded.

"So... is it... legit? You're signing up?"

He reached into his backpack, placing the documents on the desk.

"Spoke to the recruiter. Mom signed them. Just have to turn them in."

"And... that's what you want?"

"I... I want to be somewhere I can do something, Lily."

The hurt in her eyes at those words stung him, but before he could say anything else, she nodded, wiped a tear from her gentle blue eyes, adjusted her shoulder-length blonde hair, and quietly said "Alright... see you around, Dennis."

"Orville!"

Dennis Orville's head jolted as his eyes shot open, his M4 carbine nearly falling off the bunk he currently slept on as his Team Leader leaned in front of him with an incredulous look.

Before Orville could ask what was going on, the Team Leader answered, "Get your shit packed in five! Tokyo is under attack! We've been put on alert!"

Tokyo's under attack? Alert? Dennis rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, springing out of his bunk as his body went on autopilot.

"Japan's under attack?!" He blurted out when his mind finally digested the information. His team leader did not hear him, as he had already run down towards the opposite end of the squad bay to get a head count.

but the commotion all around him registered immediately. Curious, Dennis glanced around the shanty squad bay they quartered in, immediately being treated to the sight and sound of the Soldiers from his company running to and from, uniforms and gear scattered all over as they hastily packed whatever it was required of them.

Specialist Jonathan "Sean" Crawford, his bunkmate, was currently stuffing his backpack to the brim with gear, his M4 stacked against his footlocker at the end of their bunk.

Sean had cast Dennis a glance as he knelt by his own footlocker, grabbing his blouse along the way, "Make sure you pack everything, Orville. We might not be coming back here."

Dennis grabbed the OCP printed plated carrier, making sure all his mags, IFAK, and other miscellaneous stuff were still attached to it. After going over it for the umpteenth time, Dennis decided to coax some information out of him, "What happened? Japan's being attacked? By who?"

Without looking at him, Sean answered, "Dunno, man. Looks like some wild stunt at first glance. People dressed in medieval armor just showed up and started slaughtering everybody."

Dennis blinked, "Medieval armor?"

"It's all over the news, man."

Dennis may be clueless about Japanese internal affairs, but even he could've sworn that their law enforcement were more than capable of containing the situation, "Where are the cops? Can't they handle it?"

Sean snorted, "They overran the cops, last I heard. Even their SAT is having trouble containing them. It's a large-scale assault and they've brought all the toys needed for a siege."

Dennis' cocked an eyebrow, his mouth slightly agape before responding, "How many? A few dozen lunatics?"

A scoff escaped Sean's lips before sliding on his plate carrier, "Bro, it has to at least be a thousand. The streets are filled with them."

"A thousand…" Dennis repeated in bemusement, sliding on his own plate carrier. After ensuring everything was packed, Orville slipped on his Molle II rucksack, grabbing his ECH kevlar and M4 as his phone buzzed inside his cargo pocket. Wiggling his arms around his slightly over-encumbered body, he had managed to grab the device to discover the calling ID to belong to his mother. Glancing around the chaotic squad bay, Dennis decided to spare a few seconds to answer the call.

"Ma?" He shifted the rucksack as he fastened around the plate carrier's velcro straps.

"Dennis!" He had nearly recoiled from his mother's voice shouting on the other line, "Are you okay? I've seen the news about what's happening there in Japan!"

"I'm okay, ma!" The young soldier reassured, snapping the chinstrap to his kevlar, "I can't talk for too long! I'm still in Camp Fuji, but we're being put on alert!"

Even from being separated by at least seven-thousand miles, Dennis could feel his mother shudder from that last bit of information, "Alert? They're sending you boys over to fight?"

Dennis pressed his lips into a line, slowly exhaling before replying with a simple, "Maybe…"

A small pause on the line, his team leader heading back towards where he and Sean stood by, signaling that it was time to end the phone call and await for the word to pass, "Ma, I-"

"Be careful, Dennis." She interrupted, causing him to pause, "Don't go try being a hero and bite off more than what you can chew, you hear?"

He swallowed, nodding his head out of habit, "I promise ma, I won't try and get myself killed." He glanced down at his left sleeve, glancing at the "All American" patch along with the arch above it, the bold letters "AIRBORNE" embroidered onto it. "Don't worry about me. My boys will keep me safe."

"Alright, listen up!" Captain Thomas Rhodes' voice boomed over the ruckus around the squad bay, all activity coming to a grinding halt as all eyes fell on him, "Get all your junk and file outside by the four-by-four to get issued your rounds! Make sure you do not leave anything behind! Once you get your rounds, form up right in the parking lot and wait for the word!"

"Yes sir!" came the reply from various troops as they proceeded to get their belongings, both team and platoon leaders ushering the soldiers to hurry it up and file it outside.

Dennis slung his ruck over his shoulders with his free hand, "I gotta go, ma'"

He picked up his M4, his mother quickly before he could abruptly cut her off, "I'll be praying for you boys! Come back home to me!"

"I'll come back, mom," Dennis reassured, his voice soft.

"I know you will," His mother replied in the same soft tone that matched his.

"Love you," He said, abruptly ending the call before his mother could return the sentiment. He grabbed his M4, making sure the muzzle was pointing downwards as he waited for Sean to finish packing his belongings before grabbing onto his M4 as well.

They both nodded and filed it outside with the rest of their platoon who were all crowded by the white Ford truck, the ammo techs handing out boxes and ammo cans of 5.56, 7.62, and 9 millimeters.

Team leaders with the assistance of their juniors hoisted the heavy crates, setting them onto the ground before breaking them open, revealing the sealed ammo cans inside before they too were popped open. The soldiers passed the boxes of ammo down the line, keeping the appropriate amount to begin loading every magazine they had to the brim.

Dennis and Sean grabbed onto several 5.56 cardboard boxes, both taking a knee before ripping the top of them open, both beginning the process of loading each individual magazine as leaders barked more orders.

Location: Combined Arms and Training Center Fuji (Camp Fuji)

Training Grounds Area 3A

Time: 11:59 Hours

Hilaire raised his Nikon D7, glancing at the digital display of Lieutenant Cooper addressing their platoon as they wrapped halfway around him in a school, their hands resting behind their backs as they stood at a relaxed 'at ease' stance. Their flaks and Kevlars were laid along the dirt path as they waited for the MTVR trucks to pick them up and take them to main side, allowing the subtle but cool breeze to make it bearable in the mid-summer sun. It helped that they were all still in their woodland FROG uniform, the material specifically designed to ventilate body heat in contrast to their standard MCCUU cammies.

Cooper decided to use this time to address the platoon as they waited for their ride.

"I'm proud of you all."

Hilaire snapped the photo, waiting a few seconds for the device to process. The screen displayed the image three seconds later, the cameraman admiring his handiwork before resuming listening in on their platoon leader.

"-those who are paying attention, the Marine Corps is about to go through some significant changes. Looks like we're moving away from asymmetrical warfare and gearing ourselves for peer-to-peer conflict. With how things have been going with our neighbours next door, expect there to be more changes in the coming months in terms of how we'll fight and maneuver. So always be adaptable."

Isaac let out a quiet sigh, his mind going over the assets the Corps was planning to divest in favour of being more agile. Especially the M1A1 Main Battle Tanks that had been part of the MEU that participated in Olympus.

Then his eyes drifted up towards the sky, his boonie cover blocking the rays of the high-noon sun. He imagined the spot where the Chinese weather balloon had floated by overhead nearly a week ago, twisting his mouth in an amused smirk.

We're living in the wackiest timeline.

He found himself going through his photo gallery, Lieutenant Cooper's voice becoming a dull accompaniment as he stumbled upon the photos he had taken several days ago.

There, high in the sky, a small white dot in the late-afternoon sky, orbited the Chinese weather balloon in Japanese airspace over the greater Tokyo area.

They were conducting their final field op with elements of the Army's 25th Infantry Division when they noticed it. He then silently reminisced how puzzled everyone was, thinking it was part of the exercise they partook in. They were without their cellphones, largely due to the embarrassingly absolute clusterfuck of Lieutenant Spade's having his cell phone out with his mobile data online, allowing the Opfor to instantly zero in on his platoon's position.

Thus, it was through open comms that they discovered the origin of the newly arrived anomaly, the op almost coming to a pause as field commanders inquired about what was going on between Tokyo, Washington, and Beijing.

It shouldn't have surprised him with how aggressive and hostile the Chinese Government had been against their close neighbours. But to be so bold about it? Right as the world olympics were going on?

The cameraman could only guess how pressured the Japanese Diet must have felt with this blatant aggression of their sovereignty.

Which then brought him to scroll to the next few pictures.

He smirked at an image that depicted a smoke trail in the late evening horizon falling towards the sea near the Japanese coast, the weather balloon having fallen victim to an AIM-9X sidewinder.

Courtesy of a JASDF F-35.

Who would have thought the Air Self-Defense Force would have the first air-to-air kill since the Gulf-War? He pondered to himself. Well, technically since 2017. But no one really counts that…

He Stared at the — albeit blurry — pictures he took of the destroyed weather balloon billowing towards its watery grave below, a part of him wondering what was going to happen next. With how aggressive the Chinese government has been, the U.S. increasing their presence in South East Asia, and Japan caught in the middle, he couldn't predict who would do what in their ever-increasing show of force.

"-With that, retain all the knowledge that you've learned out here."

Cooper's voice had brought him back to reality, having realized he missed a majority of what choice words the lieutenant might have offered to them.

To him.

Cooper continued, "You never know when you're going to be called to the front. As you've seen it happening around you, there are those who'd want to oppress others and enforce their own rule. Despite the changes being made to the Marine Corps, one thing will always remain constant; that we'll always be called to the forefront when our nation needs us. Despite being in the shit and pulling those long hours in the suck, you've persevered and are better men and warriors because of it. You've relied and depended on each other, and that's the most important aspect of it. Because, once this shit starts, and trust me, it will start,"

He paused as if adding for dramatic effect.

"Each other is all we're going to have."

Hilaire heard Milo's camera click next to him, glancing to his right to see the Slavic Marine capturing the Lieutenant as he delivered the finale of his pep talk.

Same for a few "'rahs", there had been a pause, the Marines of 3/3 glancing around each other, some giving a small nod to their battle buddies they've shared foxholes with during the ordeal.

Hilaire had found himself glancing at Milo, who did the same thing as they both gave each other a small grin.

I know you always got my back, you son of a bitch.

"With that," Cooper added, "I've got more word of our next movement."

At this, everyone peaked their heads up.

"In terms of securing our ride back to Hawaii in two days, apparently the C-17 crew that was slated to pick us up at Yokota conveniently broke down in Guam."

A couple of hushed groans, several rolling their eyes, Cooper amongst them.

"So expect us to stay here for at least a week."

Isaac noticed the mixed reaction within the crowd. On one hand, he saw several of them grunt of huff in disappointment. On another, he saw some optimistic eyebrows raised, namely from the ones who've expressed an interest in seeing Japan outside of Camp Fuji.

"That being said, the CO has gone ahead and authorized libo for out in town." Cooper relayed without missing a beat, eyebrows raising along with a few smiles and grins working their way down the loose formation. "You'll be following the same policy as the rest of the Marines under U.S. Forces Japan. Meaning E-4 and below will sign out with a liberty buddy with the barracks duty. E-5 and above have the choice of signing out without a buddy. E-4 and below will have Cinderella liberty. Meaning you will be back on base and in your barracks by 00:00 hours. Not 00:01. Not 00:02. 00:00. Good to go?"

"Yes, sir!" The Marines chanted, louder so with the junior enlisted Hilaire.

"E-5 and above liberty expires at 01:00 hours. I expect you to be the example to follow. Remember, it only takes one to fuck it up for everyone."

The platoon nodded, several eyeballing those they'd believe would be the problem child Hilaire snickered upon noticing several eyes landing upon Artis, who scowled at them in response.

"I'll pass more word as I get it. Remember, unless you hear it from me, the company commander, or the CO, don't believe what you might hear of what's going on with China. As far as we're concerned, the bigwigs in Washington are trying to smooth things over with the suits over in Beijing. Just because we're on alert doesn't mean things are about to pop off in the immediate future. Just stand by, wait for the word, and have some fun. Japan is a place rich with history. Take advantage of it here now while you can."

With that, Cooper proceeded to take his leave, Staff Sergeant Sharpe immediately coming to the position of attention before shouting, "Attention on deck!"

The Marines snapped to attention, save for the cameramen who were still recording and photographing the entire thing.

"Carry on!" Cooper called back, heading to where the officers had set up their little corner as they waited for the trucks to pick them up.

The platoon relaxed, Sharpe, coming to the forefront of the school circle.

Hilaire tensed up.

"I don't know about you guys…" the Platoon Sergeant started, the Marines immediately popping to parade rest. "But I could use a fucking breather for a change."

He let out a soft smile under this thick, but trimmed mustache, somehow managing to soften the rugged look Isaac has known him for.

"At ease, gents. I'm not going to take up much more of your time."

Both Hilaire and Milo raised their cameras again, capturing Sharpe passing additional word, "As the sir said, Japan is full of rich history. It isn't just that anime shit that I know some of you obsess over. Xiong."

All eyes glanced at the Asian-American, who only sported a derpy smile before shouting "Oorah, Staff Sergeant!"

Sharpe shook his head, a small smirk on his face, "We had some hiccups here and there. We were good, but we can always be better. As the sir said, the Marine Corps is changing up how we're about to fight wars in the future. A few of us might not agree with all the changes, but who fucking cares? We're here to fight and follow the lawful orders given to us. There aren't a lot of people who are in the business to do what we do. Wear that shit with pride. You've all shown me that you've wanted to be here and that you want to progress." Hilaire noticed Sharpe glanced his way, the cameraman freezing up before recomposing himself, "I'm always looking for Marines who are adapting to their environment. Just because you have an MOS outside of the '0300'' field doesn't mean that you will one day be depended upon. You are a Marine first, remember that."

Hilaire nodded, Sharpe returning his nod before eyeballing the rest of the platoon.

Who is this guy…? Where was the yelling? Where was the drill instructor persona? Where was the intimidation? Isaac struggled to come to terms that there was more to the Staff Sergeant's character than he realized. Sharpe had been riding his ass hard since the moment he embedded with them, either making him an asset or told to get out the way. It had been as if he were in boot camp and MCT again. So much so, the cameraman dreaded whenever he was around.

And now, it was if none of that had ever happened, whatever imaginary vendetta against him seemingly vanished, his personally laid back and relaxed even.

Staff NCOs are fucking weird.

"Don't be stupid. Have fun. Don't add to the population. Don't marry the girl at the bar you just met. You all have the common sense to know what is and isn't right. You're all grown adults. If something looks sketch to you, just walk away. It isn't worth risking your career and life over. If you have any questions, just ask. The worst thing is I call you a fucking retard before explaining."

"Oorah, Staff Sergeant!"

"I got nothing else for yall—"

"Hey, no one in the platoon wandered off, right?! Everyone here is all accounted for?!" Hilaire was alarmed by Cooper suddenly barging towards the school circle, his eyes darting towards each individual Marine inside the school circle. The relaxed posture the Platoon Leader had not even five minutes ago completely gone, and the combat mindset he maintained during the operation flipped on once again.

"Everyone's still here, sir." Sharpe replied, his relaxed posture also disappearing upon seeing the urgency in Cooper's body language.

"Flaks and kelvars on, now! The trucks are on their way. Make sure everyone has all their gear accounted for before we get on because we aren't coming back here! We just got word that an attack is happening in Tokyo as we speak!"

Hilaire had wanted to ask what the Lieutenant meant by attack, but the Marines in front of him immediately dashed towards where they'd placed their flak and kevlar, using their free hand to stop the rifles they carried on their slings to not clack against them as they darted for their gear.

No questioning. No hesitation.

Instant obedience to orders.

Both Milo and Hilaire did a quick glance at each other, both sporting a deer-in-a-headlight look before they turned to eyeball where they had laid their gear. Without another thought, they obeyed the Lieutenant's command.

Hilaire used one hand to maintain his M4 that slung over his shoulders, his other to try in vain to stop the three cameras strapped to him to jiggle as he ran forward, being careful as to not step onto one of the potholes in the poorly maintained dirt road.

An attack is happening in Tokyo as we speak! Cooper's words played again in his head on repeat, the cameraman catching a quick breath before sliding on his plate carrier.

It's not another drill, is it? No. Lieutenant Cooper appeared far too panicked for it to just be another part of the exercise. After all, they've just completed their field op. Practically all the forces who'd participated were already back on main side, coordinating their departure back to their respective nations. So it made absolutely no sense to throw in a last-minute drill when there were hardly any units out in the field anymore.

China?! Hilaire clipped the chinstrap of his ECH kevlar, reaching over the brim of his helmet to turn on the GoPro camera he had mounted in the front. He hoped the device still had a decent battery percentage, as he hadn't charged it since last night.

No way was he going to miss any of this; The beginnings of a conflict unfolding right where he was.

Milo slid on his plate carrier, asking him, "Are all your cameras still working?"

Hilaire checked on the Nikon D7 that H&HS issued him, the display reading at a moderate 76%. He then checked his two personal ones he brought along, a Canon EOS 2000d that was at 46%, and a Sony A7 III which was at a comfortable 88%."All of 'em are working! Yours?"

Milo checked his two cameras - one personal, one issued - before giving Hilaire a thumbs up, "Good on my end! You got your spare batteries?!"

Hilaire checked the multicam-camo medical "nut ruck" pouch that was clipped in front of his war belt. Several of the portable chargers he packed and charging cables for the cameras had nearly fallen from the compartment. He pressed the buttons on several of the portable chargers, finding most of them either being half-charged or three-fourths of the way there.

"Still got juice on plenty of em!"

"Good!" Milo checked his fanny pack clipped to his web belt, digging around his own portable chargers he brought. "We're probably going to need them!"

Hilaire tucked in the assortment of devices and cables inside before zipping the compartment, giving it a few taps to ensure it was secure enough for fieldwork. If there was one thing he learned from this operation other than the fundamentals of an Infantryman, it was to always ensure he had an abundance of batteries and portable chargers as alternative methods to charging the cameras slung over his neck. It was one thing to charge them when the barracks at Fuji provided power outlets to charge them.

The field, however, did not allow for such commodities.

They would be in the wilderness for days on end, no certain guarantees of when they'd come back to civilization on main side to decompress from the Op. Hense was why both Hilaire and Milo carried their own cameras on top of the ones Combat Camera issued them. If one camera was to suddenly die while out on the line, they'd have a backup to keep shooting and documenting. However, the battery life was quick to drain if they weren't careful and using them in moderation. Having the portable chargers as a power source in an environment that did not provide any was a game changer for journalists out on the field. But they were only good for how much power they retained. Once all the power was depleted, they were just useless items taking up space in his pouch until they were charged again for the next field op.

Thus, the more portable chargers and batteries they've brought, the better and longer their cameras last. And with history apparently being made at this very moment, Hilaire vowed to capture every moment of it.

Starting from capturing the reactions of everyone hit with the news of Japan being attacked.

Now with their gear on and triple checking to ensure they had everything they came to the field with, the Marines in their platoon began asking the big questions.

"Yo! This for real?!" Doc Wilkes piped up next to Artis and Jackson, both of who visibly shrugged at the Corpsman.

"It's the North Koreans! I'm telling ya!" Jackson fished a pack of Newport cigarettes from his admin pouch webbed to the top of his plate carrier, letting a fresh one rest between his lips before trying to find a lighter.

"Cap!" Artis interjected, "They would've launched a nuke at us already!"

Cap...? Hilaire tilted his head, once again trying to understand a new slang that came out of Artis' mouth.

"North Koreans!" Jackson doubled down, holding out his hand, "Put twenty on it!"

"Fifty if it ain't."

"Deal!"

The two Marines shook hands on the bet.

Xiong came up to Hilaire, two other Marines with him whom Hilaire remembered were Corporal Keshawn Hollace, and Lance Corporal Jose "Ace" Acevedo, a team leader and marksman respectively. The two belong to Fireteam 1 on the first squad. Hollace slid on his ECH after adjusting the waistband of his plate carrier, the helmet hiding his tall frizzled box cut that was barely in regulations. Ace sported the high-cut variant of the ECH helmet, giving him the impression of a high-speed Operator.

Xiong was the first to speak, asking, "How far is Tokyo from here, again?!"

"An hour from a bullet train," Milo answered, "So whoever's attacking ain't far away from us at all!"

Hollace and Acevedo glanced at each other before looking at the cameramen, Hollace asking, "You guys still stuck with us? What's the deal with you two?"

Hilaire glanced at Milo, whose expression was twisted as he deeply pondered before letting off a shrug, "Dunno! 'Guess we'll see!"

Acevedo grinned, "Hey, I hope you're still going to be attached to us! You still have to show us those sweet spots in Tokyo that you said are out there!"

Milo grinned, "Akihabara! Gundam Cafe!"

Hollace snorted, "Better hope it doesn't get sacked!"

Hilaire heard Corporal King running up to them, immediately going towards Hollace before asking him, "Hollace! You guys up?!"

Hollace gave him a thumbs up, "We're up, Squad Leader!"

Corporal King returned Hollace's thumbs up before turning his gaze towards Milo and Hilaire, "Remember your training, gents! We could very well be called forward to fight and defend if shit gets too bad out there!"

"Aye Corporal!" Both responded. King made a subtle nod before running off to check on the rest of the platoon.

Fucking motivator.

The squad fell into a formation on the side of the road just as Hilaire spotted the 7-tons speeding down the road, Sharpe ordering the Marines from each squad to count down and take a knee to ensure accountability. After the last Marine took a knee after saying his number, the Platoon Sergeant faced his Platoon leader.

"Everyone is present and accounted for, sir!"

"Good!" Cooper replied, directing his gaze at the MTRVs as they proceeded to come to a direct halt in front of the company

Almost in unison, the Company Commanders issued the orders to embark inside the vehicles, the platoon leaders taking charge in directing their Marines to their designated vehicles.

Hilaire took the Nikon D7, photographing one of the unfamiliar Marines stepping into the hatch of the 7-ton, Artis and Jackson immediately followed after him as their platoon piled inside the vehicle.

As the squad leader, Corporal King was to be the last one to embark, the dark-skinned Marine glancing at Milo and Hilaire before motioning them towards the hatch, "Come on! Go go go!"

Both combat cameramen climbed into the vehicle, Hilaire gritting his teeth as gripped the ledge of the seat, putting all his weight onto the leg to hoist himself upwards, the SAPI plates along with his privately purchased backpack that had been stuffed to the brim working against his small and slender frame. Yet he somehow made it into the vehicle with one push, taking his seat at the edge of the hard and comfortable bench inside the cabin of the 7-ton.

King stepped in a moment later, individually looking at the Marines of his squad once more for accountability before he brought the hatch door up for the 7-ton. "Remember everything we did out here!" he shouted, the squad giving him their undivided attention, "You've all functioned well as a unit! But now it's time to be put to the ultimate test!"

"Aye, Corporal!" They responded, some of them checking over their weapons.

Hilaire tightened his hold on the M4 placed between his legs as he sat down, gritting his teeth as the MTRV lurched forward as it began speeding down the road. He once again took his camera, this time his personal Sony A7. He switched the power on, waiting for the digital display to flash in his eyes before shifting over towards the Marines sitting inside the hatch of the 7-ton.

Anxiousness.

Determination.

Confusion.

Amusement.

All of them had a different expression, some of which Hilaire found difficult to discern. Some gripped their rifles tightly as support from being jostled by the many potholes on the Japanese dirt roads. Hilaire caught one Marine appearing to be in the middle of a prayer. A couple of them grinning at each other. Others guessed as to who it might be attacking us.

Hilaire clicked down, capturing the moment in high definition, the digital display going dark before showcasing the image he had just taken.

Here we go...

Despite his death grip on the handlebar bolted to the passenger side of the 7-ton's dashboard, Cooper was unable to keep from jostling about as the vehicle sped down the poorly maintained roads. The vehicle struck another rut and he once again bounced onto the inadequately padded seat.

"Damnit," He whispered, his curse inaudible over the sound of the 7-ton's diesel engine and the notable lack of soundproofing in the vehicle itself.

"All leaders, this is Cerberus actual. Once we reach our squad bays on mainside, ensure that you get full accountability of your Marines as soon as you've disembarked. Once you have accountability, you're to report to the base theatre for a full brief of the current situation unfolding and the next order of movement. How copy?"

Cooper noted how despite the chaos going on, Captain Bannon still maintained a cool demeanor as if everything was mundane. He clicked his radio, saying "This is Cerberus 1-1. Solid copy, Cerberus actual.

"This is Cerberus 2-1, solid copy on that, Cerberus Actual." Brett said over the net, who also appeared to be cool and collected as their company commander.

"Cerberus 3-1, solid copy, Cerberus Actual." Spades said, Cooper noting a hint of nervousness in his voice. He wasn't sure if it was because of the attack, or if the man was afraid of pissing off Bannon more than he already had.

"All units be advised, we are now entering FPCON Delta. Repeat, we are now entering FPCON Delta. Expect all hold on traffic."

Cooper swallowed the knot forming in his throat. The last time he remembered when American bases were under FPCON Delta was during the September 11th attacks.

No one would be able to get on or off base until they lower the threat level.

"Jesus fuck…" he slipped. His mind went over to his daughter, her dark red hair flowing in the sea breeze of the Hawaiian coast, her big blue eyes looking at him innocently as the waves crashes against the shore. Brooke wrapping her arms around their daughter as she casted a soft smile at him, the setting sun's rays reflecting her brown hair.

He sighed, remembering she still had yet to even contact him since leaving him her message that she was leaving and going back to her parents with their daughter in tow.

You could have just waited and let us talk this out…

He glanced up at the sound of helicopter blades chopping through the air in the distance. Two Japanese cobras flying in a line adjacent to them, their wings fully loaded with ordnance.

Live ordnance.

"...Annd our native friends are packing."

"Sir, have they told you about what's going on in Tokyo?!"

Cooper looked over towards the pimple-faced Marine, silently remarking of the Marine's Adam's apple protruding from his neck, "Only that an attack is being carried out. We don't have our phones out here so I'm not fully out of the dark of who's attacking and why."

"You're not going to believe the shit they've been saying on Comms."

Damn, Lance Corporal Underground works quick. He decided to humour him, "And what would that be...?" He squinted at the tan embroidered rectangle patch on the driver's plate carrier, finding his name, "Parker."

"The people attacking Tokyo are people dressed in medieval armour, killing people with swords, shields, spears, the whole fucking set!"

Then, before Cooper could react to that stunning announcement, Parker added, "Apparently they have air support in the form of dragons or some shit!"

…

"What?"

"I don't know, sir!" Parker shouted, throwing a hand in the air. "Cosplayers gone fucking wild!"

"Parker, are you seriously fucking with me right now?" He asked, ensuring he said it in a tone for his driver to choose his next words carefully.

"It's what they've been saying on the comms, sir!" Parker said defensively, hands gripping tightly on the steering wheel as the MTRV veered right once again. "I thought they were fucking with us too, at first! But then I read the articles on my phone before they sent us to come get you guys! But even reading them, I still can't believe what I was reading!"

"Do you have your phone on you? I'd love to see these articles supporting your claims." Cooper half mused, his voice oozing with skepticism.

After turning down the road that was a straight shot to mainside Fuji, Parker fished out his phone, typing in a few numbers to unlock his screen before bringing up the Google app. He then handed the phone over, Cooper taking the device and bringing it up to his face.

The tab Parker had opened was a CNN article, the image depicting two wyverns flying above the Tokyo highrise, the headline being in big bold letters.

BREAKING: TOKYO UNDER ATTACK!

Cooper skimmed through the article, looking at other images such as the adversaries dorning what indeed looked like European-styled armour, Late-Rome or Greek at first glance.

Then the aerial photo of a Roman-styled Gate erected in the middle of the intersection, these hostile troops pouring out of it like ants out of a hill.

What...?

The geometry didn't make sense. Hundreds of these people were marching out of it, yet the diameter of the object looked as if it could only fit several dozens of people inside at best.

An underground tunnel beneath the structure, perhaps...? He tried reasoning with himself.

Cooper glanced at another news article, this one from MSNBC.

Almost the same as the CNN article, only this article had photos of creatures he had only seen in folklore.

Were those goblins? Did some of them have animal features like cat ears and tails? A group of centaurs? Cooper even saw what appeared to be a Fairy flying above a formation.

Cooper lowered the phone, opting to just stare ahead as his mind tried processing this.

Apparently, the culprits behind the attack had not been the Chinese, thankfully, but that didn't ease his dread much in terms of what the news was relaying. He could believe that some lunatics decided to purchase or make European-styled armour and decided to raise havoc. He could maybe believe that the ones with animal features were just wearing some impressive props.

Yet the wyverns...

the flying fairies...

the centaurs...

You cannot make this shit up.

He tried reasoning with the creatures from folklore, but struggled to come up with something convincing the rational part of him could agree with. At first, he thought that some Japanese Hollywood producer didn't just set the whole thing up. But horses with dragon costumes can't fly. Humans with wing props still couldn't fly. People role-playing as centaurs couldn't move as well as the images depicted.

Maybe a robot factory went haywire. This was Japan, after all. Cooper immediately dismissed that thought because it was as stupid as it sounded.

He leaned forward in his seat, still in disbelief at what he was hearing.

Somehow, someway, fantasy became a reality.

The buildings and barracks became visible as the MTRV approached mainside, the military police and Japanese security contractors inspecting every vehicle that came through.

Cooper wordlessly handed the phone over to Parker, who took the device and slid it inside his magazine pouch.

"Wild, isn't it, sir?"

Cooper glanced at several Japanese and Marine Hueys landing at the helipad near the motor pool, "Mmmhmm..."

"You think they're going to deploy us?"

Cooper shrugged, "We'll see.."

The MTRV approached the security checkpoint that allowed passage into the mainside of the base, two Marine MPs checking either side of the large truck as another Marine held a K-9 on a leash. Both Cooper and Parker flashed their government-issued IDs, the Marines waving them in after inspecting the drivers and the Marines in the hatch.

The 7-ton drove slowly onto the paved roads of Camp Fuji, Cooper was treated to the sight of troops running every which direction, trunks carrying ammo and other supplies to troops waiting by their assigned barracks, platoon commanders issuing out commands, and, supply techs loading and unloading into trucks.

After a while, the 7-tons reached their assigned buildings, Cooper thanking Parker before opening his door and disembarking the vehicle. His Marines were already filing out of the back of the hatch as several White Ford 4x4 with the snake beds sped into their parking lot, the Marine ammo techs breaking open crates and the ammo cans inside.

"Hey!" Bannon's voice boomed over the courtyard, "Staff NCOs and above, ensure your Marines get the appropriate ammo load and then head over to the base theatres once you're done! It should not take any longer than fifteen minutes!"

"Yes, sir!" Cooper shouted, looking at Sharpe who was already at work at issuing the order.

"Just head to the theatre, sir!" Sharpe called out, "I'll be with you shortly!"

"Right! Thanks, Sharpe!"

Cooper immediately darted towards where the base theatre was located, the building distinguishable by the giant Eagle, Globe, and Anchor emblem painted on the back of the building.

Fucking hell, this day is just getting better...

Location: Tokyo, Japan

Chou Ward

Currently on the streets right outside the Imperial Palace

Time: 12:24 Hours

The decanus ushered his flank forward, the wave continuing their unrelenting assault forward as the natives fled in the wide-open streets.

Many of them tripped over, the legionnaires were quick to be on top of them. Many begged in that foreign language of theirs, the legionnaires snatching them from the streets and forcibly escorted to the rear of the flanks using the sidewalks, swords pointed at their backs.

Many were elderly individuals, clearly in no real shape to run a fair distance. They were easily the most cooperative, offering no resistance or schemes of trying to flee from their captivity.

Others were younger, military-aged from the looks of it. Most of the younger ones who've fallen captive to the Imperial Army were mostly cooperative as they were daring. Some attempted escape, only to be caught and immediately butchered as punishment. Due to being in the frontlines, they simply did not have time to deal with unruly prisoners. If they submitted and followed commands, they were taken back to the rear towards where the Gate had spawned in this world.

If they tried arguing or running after being caught, they were slaughtered. Simple as that.

The decanus estimated that their legion alone managed to capture at least a hundred of these natives, though many more continued to elude them as they continued their pursuit.

The streets the natives fled had soon turned into an open field, the first one the decanus had seen since he stepped into this urban jungle.

Cut grass, trimmed hedges, rows of colourful trees, the decanus was quick to assume that this place had to be of significant importance.

Upon glancing at the tall coble-stoned walls surrounding what appeared to be an oddly designed castle, he knew his suspicions were confirmed. A man-made creek had been built around the castle walls, the dirty-looking water appearing deep to keep invaders such as himself from being able to properly scale them. Not that it mattered. Because of the nature of their mission, they didn't even bring the proper equipment necessary for a siege. A siege would take days, if not months depending on how fortified and defended it was. They were only here to take who and what they could before they were to quickly withdraw back into the Gate.

Luck would be on these people's side, having the castle walls offering the natives a safe haven due to their raiding force lacking the proper tools to break said walls down.

No matter.

They'll still take as many as they can before they could reach the interior of the castle, glancing at the large horde of natives trying to make a beeline towards the castle, many of whom were tripping over each other or too slow to reach the comfort and security these tall walls provided.

The decanus assembled his small flank, issuing the order to charge, the flank erupting in a warcry as the beat of war drums echoed across from the rear.

They got maybe a few feet before he heard the unmistakable command from their Centurion, "Halt!"

What the devils? "Halt!" The decanus repeated, his flank coming to an immediate halt, their shields raised as they held their weapons at the ready.

The decanus peered over his shield, trying to figure out why their centurion had suddenly called the pause to their charge right as they were on top of these citizens. He squinted his eyes, trying to look beyond the wave of where they were fleeing towards. His eyes widened upon discovering a line of those horseless wagons, flashing red lights like blasts of magical fire on top of them that dimmed and flared, with each flare making each of them flinch in reflex, ready to suddenly become the target of a mage's wrath.

They said they didn't have mages in this world… He gripped his sword tightly, shifting his knees to allow him to quickly duck behind his shield in the event he needed to seek cover.

A shrill whine, almost like a banshee's wail, brought him out of his thoughts as more of those black horseless wagons pulled up, men dressed in black clothing seen disembarking from the back of them.

Foreign yelling emanated from the men in black who sought refuge behind one of the large wagons, but not quite like one would normally. There was something... off about the voice. More artificial.

The decanus glanced around, realizing that they weren't about to get torn open by a magical projectile to the gut. So... were these people not going to kill them?

The strange voice repeated again, A Command. "Buki o oite warera no ken'i ni kōfuku seyo!"

Suddenly, the wagon disgorged two of the same Imperial Guards like the last one. The same uniform, but holding something... different in their hands. One of them immediately pointed it at him. Maybe a projectile weapon?

"Frontal flank!" Shouted the Centurion, "Assume the Testudo formation!"

They bunched together, shields raised that covered their entire flank unlike that of a turtle. Their rear guard crouched, staying close to the frontal flanks.

"Advance!"

The cadence of drums echoed from the rear, the Imperial Cohort trying to match the pace of the beat. The flank inched closer to the hastily assembled barricade of horseless wagons these otherworlders were utilizing, the decanus squinting at the black objects they pointed towards them.

Crossbows? Were these men that untested in battle? Surely one would realize the futility of trying to launch a maelstrom of arrows from a crossbow at a flank that covered their–

Pop, pop, pop!

The decanus involuntarily collapsed onto the cold solid street below, screaming as an unimaginable pain seared across his right shoulder. He dropped the sword he was clutching, almost missing the ray of sunlight peering through a newly made coin-sized hole in the centre of his shield.

Screams echoed from the men at the front of the flank, several of them dropping as if released by an invisible master puppet. More loud pops echoed across, the clacking of shields and steel body armour audible even over the cries and panic erupting all around him. Holes penetrated through their shields, the men holding them immediately dropped into the deck either writhing in agony or dead on the spot.

The decanus glanced down at his shoulder, his eyebrows raising in alarm as his mind processed the small circular hole in the leather material, blood pooling out of it as if pierced by an arrow. He tried rotating his shoulder cuff, barely managing to suppress the urge to yelp as a white-hot burning sensation doubled on of the pain flaring across his shoulder and arm.

What sort of sorcery is this?! There wasn't an arrow wound nor did he see a magic projectile make its way across towards their flank, yet it felt as if someone had just stabbed him with a red-hot knife. So what in the divines exactly happened?

The front flank was all but completely disorganized as it descended into chaos, men succumbing to these mysterious injuries or scampering away lest they be the new victims of what trickery these other-worlders were employing against them. The Centurion and other decanuses barked orders he couldn't hear between the constant popping noise and the choir of men crying in pain or fear.

There was a series of loud clacks as several cylindrical objects landed around the front of the flank, a large, cloud-like vapor erupting from them as they obscured the decanus and most of the cohorts in the front flank.

What in Hardy's name is-

Fire filled his lungs upon inhaling the vapor, trying to choke back the panic as he erupted in an uncontrollable coughing fit. A burning sensation flared all across his exposed skin, his vision becoming blurry as his eyes began to tear up.

The sounds of men coughing and gagging erupted all around him, some dropping their shields and swords while others outright fled from the ranks. People tried talking, issuing commands, only to succumb to the effects of this fiery vapor, not able to even get two words out.

Miasma?! I thought they didn't have magic! He panicked, large trails of snot dripping from both of his nostrils.

"Fall back!" The Centurion half-shouted, half-coughed, announcing the command clear and precise to be heard even with disorder ruining the ranks.

From what the decanus could make out with his blurry vision, the more experienced men built a shield wall, inching away back towards the streets they'd emerged from moments ago. The injured legionnaires who were still able to stand had risen up, clutching blood-dripping limbs or torsos as they either ran or limped back to the rear flanks.

A few tried grabbing and dragging their injured comrades.

Some even tried crawling.

Yet the retreating cohort was waiting for no one. Those who were too slow or unable to move were simply left to the mercy of their enemies.

The decanus stood up, erupting in another coughing fit as he gritted his teeth as pain once again flared all across his right shoulder region. He took a quick glance at those who lay victims in this alien world, narrowing his eyes when he quickly counted at least several dozen. Whether they still drew breath or succumbed to these mysterious injuries, he didn't have time to decipher.

Releasing his now damaged shield, the decanus sprinted towards the rear of what remained of the retreating cohort, blood dripping from his dangling arm, lest he also got left behind.

The medieval army emerged from the adjacent road that led to Ginza, and with it, a large crowd of fleeing pedestrians as they tried escaping from their clutches. Several of them tripped over, others simply too slow, the hostile army grabbing whomever they could upon becoming swallowed by their skirmishers who advanced alongside the main flank.

So it had been decided by Itami that he, Taylor, and Fitzgerald were going to try rescuing as many people behind the police barricade as they could. The Police Sergeant had been hesitant at first, but was easily persuaded upon witnessing two young boys being snatched up after one tried going back for the other after he had tripped over something.

With renewed energy, the three sprinted past the barricade, trying to pull in as many people as they were able to. The officer who commanded the megaphone became a dull accompaniment as Itami raced over towards individuals who've tripped, starting from the ones who were closest to the barricade. As much as he wanted to help those who were close to the clutches of the medieval-roman army, he simply didn't have the stamina to keep darting back and forth without the risk of getting caught himself.

Taylor and Fitzgerald were more or less corralling people towards the sidewalk, trying to get the people out of the streets and outside the lateral limits of the police's weapons. The SAT members held their MP5 submachine guns at the ready, holding their fire until the civilians were clear.

Itami repeated the process of darting to and from individuals who required their assistance when he had noticed the formation of soldiers came to a halt, which he then took advantage of by shouting, "Everyone! Into the castle now! Don't stop! Don't stop!"

Most of the civilians had heard him, as evidenced by the increase in their pace as they made a beeline toward the Castle. Despite the safe haven just mere meters away, some were still too slow, such as an elderly gentleman Itami spotted lagging behind in the crowd.

Still tapping into his reserves, Itami sprinted towards him, the elderly man slightly alarmed when he glanced at his blood-soaked orange shirt and scratched arm.

"Lieutenant Itami! JSDF!" He declared, the older gentleman relaxing somewhat when he gazed onto Itami's face, "Hop on my back! I'll get you over to the castle!"

"Th-thank you!", he said, climbing onto Itami's back as he squatted down.

"Hold on!" Itami grabbed onto the old man's legs wrapped around his waist, shooting up from his squatting position as he leaned forward. The old man wrapped his arms around his shoulders, Itami leaning forward as he proceeded into a light jog.

It was then his phone fell out of his pocket, landing hard on the concrete street below.

Crap! Itami cursed to himself, having believed he had it secured in his pocket. He pondered going back for it, but decided against it. He'll just have to get it later when the area was secured.

He jogged right next to Taylor, who was carrying a salarywoman with an arrow pierced into her thigh. Itami could hear the poor woman crying in agony, hysterically begging the Coast Guardsman to escort her to safety as Taylor tried his best to calm her down. As they fled past the police barricade, they managed to link up with Fitzgerald, who was corralling the fleeing pedestrians into the castle's entrance with the assistance of the security staff.

Itami stole a glance backward, relief flooding over him upon realizing the streets were finally clear of civilians, the SAT team and medieval army facing off at each other when the medieval flank had assumed a testudo formation, their shields creating a wall that obscured the men from any projectiles.

Itami squatted down to let the older gentleman off at the Imperial Castle's entrance when he heard the first shots go off, instinctively using his body as a shield for the elder. The flank of soldiers began to start dropping into the streets in sync, as if released by an invisible puppet master.

Screams reached his ears.

The testudo formation dissolved into panic, wounded men writhing in agony on the ground as others stood with a dumbfounded expression, as if trying to digest what just happened.

Are they not aware of firearms...?

The enemy commanders tried rallying the men back together, who were either frozen in place, assisting their wounded comrades, or attempting to flee the formation. One of the SAT officers fired several CS gas canisters into the flank, the effects almost instant. Even from where Itami stood, he could hear the medieval troops choking and panicking from the gas cloud that dissolved what little remained of the frontal ranks.

Enemy officers were unsuccessful in rallying the troops after that. Many of them fled themselves. The middle and rear ranks still kept the testudo formation as they began inching backward, clearly falling back as the stragglers attempted to retreat with them.

Itami's lips tightened when he realized quite a few hostile soldiers were unmoving as they laid in the streets, most likely deceased from the exchange that just happened. Then grimace when he saw quite a few of them choking on the CS gas, hardly able to crawl away where they wouldn't suffer from the effects of it as they bleed out of the streets.

Choking on a gas that burns one's skin and eyes while bleeding out.

Talk about a shitty way to go...

Not that it wasn't unwarranted. It was their fault for attacking the citizens of Japan, along with the foreigners who wanted to experience the joys his country had to offer. So why should they receive any pity from him?

As the Americans love to say; "fuck around and find out".

"Not so tough now, are they?!" Fitzgerald shouted next to him.

Speak of the devil.

"I wouldn't get too relaxed," Itami replied, cutting off the premature celebration, "Those people were cannon fodder. Little to no training or experience. They'll probably send their more experienced troops after us, next."

"That's assuming they don't get lost," Taylor deduced, Itami pausing for a bit before slowly nodding.

"Even if they throw more in more experienced troops, I doubt they'll do well against firearms." Fitzgerald pitched in, glancing back at a few Japanese citizens who dared poke their heads outside the entrance to gouge the situation.

"It's not the SAT teams I'm necessarily worried about," Itami stated, both Coast Guardsmen's eyes falling on him, "It's the civilians who might be caught in between that I'm worried about..."

Both Coasties glanced solemnly at the streets, the flank having completely withdrawn back to the streets they'd emerged from. The SAT and riot police were already rounding up the wounded enemy soldiers, some trying to fight captivity as their hands were cuffed.

Even with the advantage of firearms over swords, Itami estimated there were at least sixty officers. They might be loaded to the brim, but sixty against five-hundred were not great odds. And who's to say they'll send five hundred next time?

They could have well over a thousand the next time now that they know they're here and what they're dealing with.

Itami hoped the SAT team here brought enough ammo to repel such an assault.

Where the hell is the JSDF...?!

Location: Combined Arms and Training Center Fuji (Camp Fuji)

Building 4694

Currently in the squad-bay assigned to the JGSDF Detachment

Time: 12:37 Hours

"My god..." Ikazaki covered her mouth as she let out a frightened gasp, her eyes widened behind her black-rimmed glasses.

She glanced down at the live feed broadcasted on her phone, the images displaying the images of Tokyo under siege by...

By...

She struggled to accept the fact people dressed up in medieval-styled armour were running rampant in Tokyo, carrying swords, shields, and pikes into battle as if reenacting a scene from the movie Braveheart.

Even more so that said people were attacking innocent bystanders.

Yet, of course, the straw that broke the camel's back were the dragons, orcs, and animal people who were in the mix, as if some fantasy movie manifested into reality.

Which was what she initially believed it to be - some actors and actresses from a movie set let loose into the city in an attempt to promote their show.

And then the casualty reports started coming in.

Leaked and censored footage of the dead and dying on the streets as medieval-dressed soldiers carried on their assault and pillaging on the city she and many others had called home, a mixture of disbelief, anxiety, and anger mixing together like a cocktail.

She wasn't alone. Many of her fellow Jietai were glued to their phones, watching or reading the crisis unfolding in their nation as they waited for the word to deploy into the city and stop these lunatics.

Except it's almost been an entire hour and they still had yet to receive word from higher up if the Diet was going to authorize the deployment of the Self-Defense Force.

She gritted her teeth.

The moment the Canadian lieutenant came in and dropped the news on everyone, they immediately ceased all activities, darting for their gear and getting everything combat-ready. Their Type 89 rifles were slung loosely by their three-point slings, unloaded magazines stuffed in their pouches waiting for the ammo techs to deliver them their 5.56. IFAKs, Kevlars, everything had been neatly organized and staged for easy access to grab and don once they finally get word to embark for Tokyo at a moment's notice.

Except, again, no word from command in terms if they were deploying or not.

She subconsciously tugged at her issued Nikon camera that her command at Public Affairs assigned to her, glancing around at her fellow Jietai as hushed murmurs and gasps echoed around her.

Kuribayashi, being the most vocal out of everyone, let out a huge gasp as her phone screen displayed what appeared to be a wyvern vomiting acid into a fleeing crowd, the camera panning away before showing the grizzly aftermath.

Ikazaki could already feel the nausea in her stomach threatening to spill out her morning's breakfast.

Kuribayashi set the phone down on a random bunk, massaging her sore shoulder from her earlier grappling match with the Canadian redhead. She glanced over to where she saw Tomita trying to calm down a rather erratic Tozu, who no one could exactly blame for his behavior.

"Sergeant Tomita-san," Kuribayashi cleared her throat, the senior sergeant first-class darting his eyes over at the short female, "Have... you heard anything else... force deployment?"

"Still no word," Tomita sighed before pinching his nostrils with his free hand, "And we still have no SITREP of Lieutenant Itami's status..."

She noticed Kurata let out a groan, pinching his temples before murmuring, "Fuck... He did go to Komiket today, didn't he?"

"Mmhmm," Tomita answered, trying once again to dial up his section leader, "If he's lucky, he should've made it to the Ariake convention centre when the attack happened. I don't think these attackers made it that far, yet."

"Yet..." Kuribayashi grimaced, her eyes once again glued to her phone's screen, "If they don't deploy us soon, they just might overrun the other surrounding wards..."

Tomita could only grumble something unintelligible as he stared at the "CALL FAILED" icon on his screen, "Where the hell are you, Lieutenant...?"

"I hope he's okay..." Kuribayashi said in a tone barely audible.

Yet audible enough for Kurata to let out a surprised gasp, "You hope Itami-san's okay? You?!"

Kuribayashi let out a snarl, saying, "Look, just because I think he's a pathetic individual doesn't mean I want him dead, you idiot!"

"My bad, my bad!" Kurata held his hands up in a defensive posture, "Just... kinda relieved to hear that."

"You honestly think I'm a heartless monster, don't you Kurata-san?!"

"N-no, I-"

"Enough! Both of you!" Tomita barked, Kurata and Kuribayashi yelping at his loud voice before immediately going silent. He gave both junior sergeants a stern look unlike that of what a parent gives to their child acting out in public before saying, "Go make sure you triple-check your troop's gear, again. Need to know we're good to step off without any hiccups in the event we do get word!"

Both Kurata and Kuribayashi recomposed themselves, immediately complying with Tomita's order by going around and checking individual kits, ensuring they had the appropriate number of magazines, IFAKs, and other miscellaneous things a soldier might need.

Ikazaki shakily raised her camera, using this opportunity to begin documenting what was essentially a historical event. Her cheeks reddened as a sense of dread and embarrassment washed over her. She could feel the eyes of her comrades glaring daggers into her soul, threatening to cut her deeply if she didn't watch where she tread. She swallowed the knot in her throat before taking a snap of the backs of the men and women who made up her section as they watched the news from their phones unfolding in front of them, making sure the flash was off in a vain effort to make her more incognito.

As the Public Affairs augment to the platoon, it was her job to record and document all activities surrounding the JSDF. Positive things about the JSDF, her section leader enforced upon her. Any photo she took could potentially be used to bolster the momentous recruitment efforts to get her fellow citizens to enlist in the Self-Defence Force. The people wanted to see teamwork, nation-building, community service, cooperation, and even fun and merry activities. All the peachy things that would hopefully get the youth to become a part of something greater than themselves.

No one wanted to see the ugly side of it. The long working hours, the living conditions in the field, the fear of the unknown, the possibility of having to take a life, the lingering risk of death that came with the job.

The things that would surely get people to think twice before deciding to enlist.

"It's our job to be honest, Ikazaki," Ikazaki recalled Hilaire's conversation when they first met, "Our job is to capture the truth of what it is that we do and the situations around us. It can be both a loving, fun,and cruel world if you look hard enough. it's up to us to capture both worlds behind the lens.

Swallowing the lump that once again manifested in her throat, she focused her camera on the backs of her section, their attention still glued to their phones relaying the horrible news unfolding in Tokyo.

Snap.

The image popped up in the camera's digital display, the backs of her comrades as they stood transfixed on their phones broadcasting live of the crises unraveling in Japan.

She noticed Furuta's head going back and forth, as if gouging the reactions of his fellow Jietais in his section before his eyes landed on Ikazaki. He looked at her before his eyes settled on the camera she held, his expression morphing into an irritated scowl.

"Hey, turn that camera off!" He snapped, causing her to freeze in place unlike that of a deer in a headlight. His scowl only deepened when she didn't move, saying "Damn vulture! I said turn that off! Have you no shame?!"

"Furuta-san!" Tomita's voice boomed over, his face stern as he crossed his arms, "She's only doing her job. Leave her be!"

Furuta huffed, throwing out his hands in a wild gesture, "I'm sorry, her job? Exploiting people and situations for her personal benefit like those other media scumbags?"

"Hey, tough guy!" Kuribayashi shouted, her sudden outburst causing both Ikazaki and Furuta to jump, "You heard the platoon sergeant! Each and every one of us has a job to do! Her's to capture and document everything! Yours is to shut up and fight! Conduct yourself accordingly, and you should have nothing to worry about!"

Silence lingered in the squadbay, save for the dull audios of erratic new anchors relaying information from the abundance of phones. Several members of the squad stared back and forth between the NCOs glaring daggers at Furuta, who in turn, seemed to try holding his ground as he stared back, his expression stern as he clenched his fist several times.

Furuta let out a haughty huff before leaving the circle crowding around the television, heading towards his bunk without looking back.

"H-hey! Furuta-san!" Sasagawa called out before also making his leave to follow the former chef. Probably to help calm him down if Ikazaki were to guess.

Ikazaki clenched her eyes shut, trying to let the feeling of embarrassment and guilt pass over.

"There will always be people who hate what we do." She recalled Isaac's voice again, feeling herself becoming relaxed, "But that's the nature of it all. You just have to power through it. We're here to capture everything, even the things people don't want to see or want to remain a secret. Both good and bad. The happiness and sadness of what we do and see. Otherwise, we would never be able to learn from our mistakes or be held accountable for any wrongdoing or wrong calls we make." She remembered Isaac suddenly laughing, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave her a nervous smile, "At least.. that's what my instructors taught me in my MOS school at Fort Meade. This is my first time doing my job..."

A small smile managed to make itself known, now feeling slightly less guilty and embarrassed about the situation presented to her.

She gazed over at Kuribayashi, who placed her hands on her hips as she watched Furuta fumed towards his bunk. The short sergeant then turned her head towards the PFC, flashing a small smile before giving her a subtle nod.

Ikazaki returned the smile with one of her own, raising her camera before resuming taking photos of her section members.

She noticed Kuribayashi jumped when her phone rang, immediately picking up the device before her eyes widened when they scanned the caller ID. She hurriedly accepted the call before swiftly bringing the device to her ear.

"Nanami?!" Kuribayashi half shouted, half gasped into her phone. Ikazaki watched as the sergeant held a death grip on her cellular device, "Okay! Just calm down! Where are you?!"

Ikazaki gritted her teeth, the tension in the air as Kuribayshi pressed her phone into her ear, "The mall?! Which mall?!"

A few tense seconds before Kuribayashi's eyes widened, her mouth agape, "AEON...? How many people are trapped with you?!"

A few more tense seconds before Kuribayashi reacted as if she had been punched in the gut from the unheard reply, "Dear God..."

Kuribayashi blew out a breath, clenching her eyes before a collected yet determined expression replaced what was anxiety, "Okay, I'm going to need you to keep it together, Nanami! The police should be coming to rescue you people as we speak! We-" She paused, Nanami's voice barely audible as she apparently explained her situation more, "...Oh." Again, Kuribayashi sported a determined expression, "Don't worry... you'll be rescued... I promise.."

Ikazaki smiled inwardly, watching Kuribayashi calm down this Nanami person, reassuring her and giving her hope. A relative? A friend? Whoever she was, it was blatantly clear that she was close to the Sergeant.

"Nanami?" Kuribayashi's eyebrows had risen two inches above her forehead, her eyes glaring daggers into her phone. "Nanami, you're breaking up! I can't hear you!" her voice panicked, bordering on desperation. "Nanami! The signal is getting really bad!"

Whatever calm she once had vanished, replaced with desperation and fear, "NanamI!"

Kuribayashi stood silent for a few moments before lowering the phone from her ear to the front of her chest, the "Call Dropped" notification flashing on the screen as if taunting her.

"S-sergeant...?" Ikazaki stammered, Kuribayashi's gaze still transfixed on the phone as if she didn't hear her.

"Shino-chan..." Kurokawa put her hand on the short sergeant's shoulder, which snapped Kuribayashi out of her trance.

"I... I lost her..." She stammered, her lips quivering as she balled her free hand into a fist, "I lost her..."

"We don't know that, Shino-chan." Kurokawa assured, "The call dropped. The cell towers must be overloaded. She could very well be in a safe spot."

"She said she was at the new AEON mall in Ginza..." Kuribayashi replied, her voice barely audible "There's hundreds of them trapped inside... All of them are waiting to be rescued... "

Ikazaki felt a chill run down her spine upon hearing Kuribayashi's last statement, images of traumatic memories manifesting in her mind's eye, causing the Public Affairs Jietai to momentarily zone out on the spot.

Kuribyashi pounded her fist against the metal frame of the nearby bunk bed, snapping Ikazaki back to reality. Kurokawa still kept her hand on the short sergeant's shoulder as she let out just about every swear word in the vocabulary. A few of the Jietai in the squadbay looked on with sympathetic expressions, some of which Ikazaki had no doubt also had family residing inside Tokyo.

"Who's..." Ikazaki swallowed the lump in her throat as he tried overcoming the sense of dread with what she was about to ask Kuribayashi, having a good idea of already knowing the answer, "Who's Nanami?"

"She's..." The words seemed to have gotten stuck in Kuribayashi's throat before she finally managed to finish, "She's my younger sister..."

Ikazaki felt her heart sink into the squadbay floor, watching as the sergeant collapsed onto the ground as frustrated tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. The bespectacled camerawoman couldn't fault her. No one honestly could. They all wanted to go in and fight off these invaders hellbent on killing their fellow countrymen. They were locked and loaded, motivated, and ready to deploy right there and then.

But word had yet to come, all of them confined to the squadbay awaiting for the command to mount up. Yet, it seemed as if the diet was hesitating once again of the idea of authorizing the deployment of the JSDF again.

Just like they did for the 3/11 Earthquake... Ikazaki''s grip on her camera tightened as she clenched her teeth, the memories of that horrible day flooding her mind like a bursting dam. How many people could have been saved had they authorized the deployment of the JSDF sooner, she always wondered. How many people were trapped under the rubble or stranded that could have been assisted by the men and women willing to dive into hell and back for them?

She briefly thought of her mother and older brother, the both of them smiling and joking at their family dinner right before...

The sounds of her brother crying echoed in her mind as he lay trapped under their house's foundation, the sea water rushing in...

She bit the bottom of her lip, closing her eyes to hold back the tears threatening to leak over. Even nine years later, it seems as if the Diet had not learned a damn thing from March 11th. Thus, once again, dooming the fates of many that could have been prevented.

She was brought out of her thoughts when Kuribayashi pounded her fist on the floor once more as she let out a frustrated shriek. Yet, there was also something that Ikazaki detected in that shriek that she had never heard from the short martial-artist up until this point.

Helplessness.

The same helplessness that washed over Ikazaki when her mother and brother were pinned underneath the rubble, praying to whatever higher power existed for a miracle to spare their lives.

And for Kuribayashi, she was praying for a miracle for her sister.

Damn it all...

Location: Building 902

The Base theatre for Combined Arms and Training Centre Fuji

Time: 12:57 Hours

"At approximately 1140 hours, this object materialized into the streets without warning."

Cooper quietly watched the image displayed on the large screen of the base theatre, the building serving as the emergency meetup for the Officers and Staff-NCOs who've been called upon.

Prior to entering the building, word had already trickled down of what was going on in Tokyo, the stories and rumors lining up with what Cooper had read on Parker's phone. They still had yet to enter their squadbay to retrieve their personal phones, having immediately dashed towards the theatre upon disembarking from the 7-ton. Thus, rumors and speculations were the only methods he had of keeping up-to-date.

Which went against everything he believed in and was taught to him.

But if what he read in the articles were true...

Sharpe and the others were also skeptical of what they were hearing, Cooper kept the information he learned on their ride over here to himself as to not add onto the rumor-mill. Jacob, unsurprisingly, seemed almost ecstatic over what he was hearing. Brett had to calm the young officer down, reminding him to wait until they get confirmation from higher up of what is going on.

Thus, here they were, the Battalion staff drawing up a power-point in record time, informed with the most up-to-date information.

When their Battalion Commanding Officer confirmed exactly what was in the news, the room fell dead silent as the troops attempted to digest the information.

Cooper tightened his lip upon glancing at the same image of the Gate that was on the CNN article he read.

"It brought with them these enemy combatants, who immediately started attacking everyone within the immediate vicinity."

Again, he silently looked on as the next image clicked, showcasing the late-Roman inspired legions that poured into the streets of Tokyo. Many carried what appeared to be loot on their backs, miscellaneous items with how random it was. Some carried clothes. Others carried books. Cooper was sure one of them was even carrying a cache of bowls with food still inside them. All of which were being ferried to a hastily set-up outpost around the Gate-like structure.

"The police were quick to respond to the crises, but they were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers this enemy brought forth."

Another slide, this one showing several images of the Japanese police attempting to regain order while others showed the police with their nambu revolvers drawn at several advancing legionnaires.

Again, he silently noted the tactics the legionnaires were employing.

"As of right now, we do not know who these people belong to, or the total number of combat troops they've brought forth. What we do know is that their attire appears to be reminiscent of the late-Roman Empire. Appearing to even use similar tactics of the Byzantine era."

He glanced over at Sharpe, whose eyebrows raised as his eyes narrowed in what otherwise appeared to be a neutral expression. Brett, who himself was glancing around to read the atmosphere of the room, had an expression that was a mixture of bemusement and absurdity.

Jacob, of course, appeared ecstatic. Giddy almost, akin to a toddler meeting Santa Claus at the mall.

Cooper resisted the urge to roll his eyes before their CO's voice boomed across the theatre.

"But that's where the similarities end."

With the next click, the projector displayed the images of a formation of wyverns flying across the Tokyo skyline. Murmurs and whispers erupted from the men and women in the theatre, some still voicing some doubt of the authenticity of it all.

Cooper couldn't blame them. Even hearing it from the horse's mouth was a hard process to accept.

Their CO continued, "They've brought along heavy cavalry in the form of horses, but as you see here, they also have airmobile units in the form of wyverns. So far, they've been observed using them as scouts to direct their invading force. But we still aren't sure if they have other capabilities as of yet."

The Marine manning the projector clicked the next slide, the CO continuing without missing a beat, "Along with those fast movers, they've brought with them other humanoids similar to old folklore and mythologies. All of which appear to be led by human commanders."

The new images depicted tall ogres, along with what appeared to be trolls wreaking havoc on the streets. Another image of small imp-like creatures terrorizing the fleeing crowds, and another image of what seemed to be wolfmen making off with both men and women on their backs.

Great... Shrek and the furries are also a reality...

More murmurs and hushed whispers from the officers, Cooper turning to glance at Sharpe once more. Sharpe glanced back at him, his eyebrows only furrowed more as he let out a haughty snort. Cooper simply nodded before glancing back at the theatre screen.

The next slide depicted a zoomed-in camera shot of several Roman Dressed soldiers. Even with the slightly blurry quality, he could tell there was something off about them. Upon squinting his eyes, he began to pick some unique features he had not seen on the other legionnaires so far. One legionnaire had a fluffy dog tail loosely hanging above his legs, the other, a female with deer-like antlers around the sides of her head. Both had armour pieces and uniforms tailored-made to accommodate these oddities, noting the antler-woman's helmet resembling a conical compared to the dog-tailed man who sported what appeared to be a standard helmet.

He continued looking on in silent disbelief, once again glancing at Sharpe, who slightly rocked in place with his hands in his pocket, the perplexed expression he had morphing between bemusement and anticipation. The Staff-Sergeant cocked his eyes when he met Cooper's, who then gave another light shrug before Cooper simply gaze towards Brett and the others.

"Marines, this is not some drill or a Hollywood stunt gone wrong." Hood declared, finally addressing the elephant in the room, "These are real enemy combatants who have come to oppose their will upon one of our closest allies. As hard as it is to believe, somehow fantasy has bled into our reality."

Cooper slowly exhaled, massaging his temples as Hood's words dropped onto him like a hammer.

"But do not let that distract you from doing your mission. Marines, We of 3/3 have been called upon to reinforce the Embassy in Tokyo."

At this, Cooper's adrenaline spiked, immediately piping up upon hearing the latest news, "So far, the situation has mostly been contained within Ginza, but they are spreading at an alarming rate. With the slow advancement of the SAT teams and with how long it'll take to mobilize the Self-Defense Force, higher has deemed it necessary to send a contingent of both Marines and Soldiers as the first line of defense in the event their forces make contact with ours. MSG are already deployed and the Japanese security staff are already taking in American nationals seeking refuge within the facility. We'll also be assisting them in any way we protect and save as many lives as we can."

So this was it then. They're about to be sent into the hornet's nest.

"Ensure your men are all accounted for and that they're combat ready. Once we clear the skies from their air cavalry, we're to be air-inserted into the embassy. Expect to fast rope in, as the embassy in Tokyo does not have a helipad big enough to support anything larger than a Huey." Hood added, the Officers and SNCOs already setting things in motion, "Those birds will be here in ten mikes! I want you boys ready in five! As always, remain flexible as word could change in a heartbeat!"

Some Oorahs, but others were already out of their seats and filing out towards the exits of the theatre, company commanders barking orders for the junior officers and senior officers to pass the word.

"Dismissed!"

With that, the Marines officially scrambled out of their seats, most of them reporting to their company commanders who had more word to pass.

Captain Bannon being one of them.

"Lima company! On me!" He shouted, his voice audible even with the chaos around them.

Cooper, Brett, Jacob, and 4th platoon's leader 1st Lieutenant Brandon Best made a small semi-circle around their Company Commander, the Staff NCOs following suit.

"The snake-bed truck is already in front of the building of our squadbay, so our boys should be getting ammunition as we speak." Bannon relayed, Cooper already scribbling on his small notebook the Marines affectionately dubbed, "The Green Monster".

Bannon continued, "Ensure that they pack everything they came to Japan with. I don't give two fucks about tidying up the place. Let the next unit that comes through worry about that. Once they have their ammunition and gear, have them stand-by the flightline to wait for the birds to pick us up. Absolutely no one is to leave the area as soon as they have everything. Make sure you have accountability when they pack up, when they march to the flightline, and right before they embark on the helos! Do you have any questions?!"

Cooper shook his head, along with the rest of the officers. Even Jacob thankfully held his tongue, though Cooper suspected it was largely in part of him still being on Bannon's shit-list.

"Dismissed!"

Cooper and the others filed outside the exit, Jacob murmuring something inaudible to his Platoon Sergeant while Brett and Best talked about the movement of operations.

Both Cooper and Sharpe were quiet as they jogged down towards the squadbay, tan plate-carriers tightly strapped to their frames and both tightly gripping their M4s.

"...Wolves, dragons, and giant fatasses." Cooper huffed to Sharpe, who only snorted in response, "What in the fuck have I woken up to?"

Location: Chou Ward

Currently in the parking lot of a 7-Eleven convenience store.

Time: 13:12 Hours

"Watashi o korosanaide kudasai! Onegaishimasu!" cried a bounded native, his shirt stripped before his mouth gagged.

"IIe, yamete kudasai! Yamete kudasai!" cried the other bound native, who was more dressed, but had a cloth slipped into his mouth right there and then, effectively also gagging him.

Two auxilias stood over them, their faces indifferent.

"Well… let's get on with it…" The smaller of the two said, his raccoon tail laying flat against his purple sash.

The other auxilia, a bull demi-human, hoisted the two men up, who only screamed and pleaded behind the gags as they struggled against his broad and chiseled frame.

Altan could only look on with pity, pressing his lips into a thin line as the two men were made off towards the direction the Gate had spawned.

At least, he assumed that was where the Gate lay beyond. It became harder to tell the further they traveled within the chaotic layout of this labyrinth of a city.

Altan tightened the grip of his spear as he stood sentry in front of a bazaar his section currently pillaged, auxiliaries coming out of the entrance with an untold amount of loot they'd managed to loot.

The bazaar was one of which the main source of income was selling food, most contained in sealed bags of all shapes and sizes, all colourful and contrasting against the environment.

And the bizarre discovery of frozen packages of food sold behind a glass that had ice cool air when you opened the door to it. And mead and beverages behind glass and metal cups.

All of which, the auxilias helped themselves, tearing open the colourful bags and eating to their hearts' content. Then wash them down with the beverages behind the frozen glass door, the reactions of the men and women who drank them mixed to varying degrees.

"By the gods, these dried potatoes are delicious!"

"You should try this bubbling blue elixir!"

"Yuck! Who's bright idea was to put this into the bread?!"

"These sweets are to die for!"

The carts the caravan riders brought were piling up with the food they were pillaging from this bazaar. The ones that hadn't been eaten yet, anyway.

Altan would be lying if he said his stomach didn't grumble from the enticing smells the strange foods gave off.

This place is so bizarre… Altan thought to himself.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard a frail scream, turning his head to find one of the auxilias, a pig demi-human with canines protruding from his lips, holding a native woman by both of her wrists with one meaty arm that nearly caused the short girl to dangle on her toes.

"I'm not going to ask again!" He snarled, holding out a colourful bag that contained dried but tasty food that was abundant in the bazaar they were looting, "What are these delicious treats called and how are they made?!"

"Onegaishimasu! Jihi! Onegaidesu!" She cried, fearful tears leaking from petrified eyes.

"Ugh!" The pig-demi used his other free hand to backhand the poor storekeeper across her cheek, "Dumb wench!"

From his peripheral vision, Altan witnessed Hera flench upon the pig's hand making contact with the woman twice as small as the demi-human currently holding her captive. He'd be lying if he said he didn't flinch himself, the slap was heard from even where he stood, the bruise on her jaw already beginning to form.

"Hey!"

Altan tightened his spear, his eyes falling on the decanus who was storming towards the pig-demi, his hare-like ears darted forward as he sported a scowl of disapproval on his face. He then pointed a hairy finger at the pig demi.

"What in the seven hells are you doing?!"

The pig finally released the woman as she fell onto the ground, snapping into attention as he saluted their decanus, "I was trying to devolve some information from her, sire!"

"Clearly she speaks in a different tongue, you incompetent fool." the decanus shook his head, his chestnut-brown hare ears edging down in disapproval, "Of course you pigs wouldn't know anything else other than to use your hands."

The pig demi-human gritted his teeth, balling his fists before exhaling a frustrated sigh, "My... apologies, sire..."

The decanus shook his head before saying, "Just go and take whatever is left in there!"

"Yes, sire…!"

The pig-demi human grabbed his sword and the bag of treats before heading inside the store to pick it clean.

"Dumb brute. The lot of them." The hare grumbled, glancing left and right at the individuals who made up the overwatch flank protecting the auxiliaries pillaging the store.

Altan pretended he didn't see the decanus' eyes stopped right at him.

"You! Fox!"

Oh Devines...

Altan stiffened up, instinctively coming to the position of attention as their decanus approached him, "Y-yes, sire?!"

Their decanus pointed at him saying, "Your kind are unnaturally quick to learn the tongues of foreign people, correct?"

Altan swallowed, "Yes, sire! I can if... given the time."

"How much can you learn in an hour?"

"Maybe enough to ask for directions or wh-"

"Intel." The hare decanus cut him off, "I want intel."

"I... would need more time for that..."

The decanus knelt right by the sobbing storekeeper before grabbing the back of her hair, the small woman letting out a pained yelp as the hare demi-human roughly shoved her to the ground mere inches from where Altan stood.

Altan tightened his lips. Trying his best to keep his facial expression neutral.

Weren't you just complaining about the other guy being too rough on her...?

"Learn what you can," the decanus ordered, "The more intel we know, the easier this campaign can be for us. You'll be serving as our translator from here on out."

Altan swallowed before slowly exhaling, "Yes, sire..."

The hare demi-human nodded before going back into the entrance of the bazaar, ushering the ones pillaging to hasten their pace.

Altan glanced towards the crying storekeeper, who was clutching the back of her head where the decanus had roughly grabbed her while using the other hand to tenderly rub her slapped cheek which was now beginning to swell.

He glanced at Hera, who gave him a timid look before setting her gaze upon the woman sobbing in front of them. She bit her lip, her rabbit ears pointing downward as if in defeat before giving Altan a sad look, but nodded anyway.

"Well?!" Altan nearly jumped, turning back to see Hyrmina casting him an annoyed glare, her piercing red eyes appearing to stare into his soul as her brunette rabbit ears raised, "You heard him! Get to it!"

"Y-yes…!"

Kneeling down, the Fox met her at eye level, her blood-shot eyes meeting him for the briefest of seconds before diverting them back towards the floor.

Poor thing… she's terrified…

In a gentle voice, as he could possibly manage in the chaotic situation around them, Altan said "Please… it's okay. I'm not going to harm you."

She continued sobbing.

"My name is He-Yi Shikai…"

She sniffled, her face slowly glancing up at him, the Fox swearing her eyes slightly flashed in recognition, "Sh-Shikai…?"

"Yes," He affirmed, "Shikai… But you can call me Altan."

"Aw, making new friends again, Fox boy?" Hyrmina asked in a cutely mocking tone.

Altan ignored her, his focus on the storekeeper as she continued looking at him, "Artan… Sh-shikai…"

Altan nodded, laying down both his spear and shield and held his hands up to show her he meant no harm.

"Anata wa…" She paused, shaking a pointy finger, "Anata wa Nihonjin desu ka?"

Anata wa… The fox closed his eyes, allowing the words to sink into his mind.

Anata wa…

Anata wa…

….Are you…

Am I.. Nihonji…

Nihonji…

So these people were called Nihonji? Was she asking if she was one of them?

Other than his ginger hair with black streaks, along with his fox ears and tail, he could indeed blend in with these people… the similarity between these natives and his people in the north of Falmart was unnerving him the longer the empire waged their campaign against them.

He shook his head, "Sadera…" he said, the woman only looking at him in confusion, "Saderan." He said again, gesturing a hand towards himself.

"Anata wa nihongo o hanase masu ka?.."

Nihongo…

Nihongo…

The language…

Asking me if I speak the language…

Well… no, he didn't, but given the time…

"Nihongo." He said it fluently, surprising himself. He then pointed at her, "Anata wa Nihonjin desu ka?"

She stared at him for a moment, before timidly nodding, "H-Hai…"

Hai…

Yes…

"Hai…" he repeated, smiling softly.

He glanced to his side and noticed Hera had been staring at him in fascination, her dirty-blonde rabbit ears perked as they wanted to listen more.

"Ugh, can this hurry up?" Hyrmina groaned, "If it wasn't for the decanus, I would've put the wench out of her misery already."

Again, Altan ignored her.

"Shikai…" Altan pointed at himself before motioning towards the woman, making a gesturing motion with it before the storekeeper realized what he was trying to do.

"Watashi Wa…. Zenko desu…"

Watashi Wa…

Her name is Zenko…

He would say something, she would respond.

She would respond, he would learn a new word.

New words, new sentences.

All instantly retained. All he had to do was keep her talking. The more she talked, the more words he would be able to retain and relay to his command..

"Are we done, yet?" Hyrmina asked impatiently, staring into the bazaar that was all but completely gutted at this point, "We're about to start moving to pillage more."

"I'll need a lot more time." Altan simply stated.

"Well, you're gonna have to drag her along. Unless you want to just converse with another one of these natives and I can just slay her where she sits."

"That wouldn't be necessary."

She grinned, "But you seemed to have grown attached. It'd be a real shame if something were to happen to her."

"Hey, leave them alone!" Hera suddenly shouted, both Altan and Hyrmina were surprised that the normally quiet woman had an outburst like that.

Hyrmina grinned even more devilishly, saying, "Oh? Are we finally growing a pair?" She began walking towards her, what fire Hera once had instantly vanishing as her rabbit ears lowered in submission, tucking her neck in, "Ohhhh! Where did that bravado disappear off to?"

The black-haired rabbit woman was now standing in front of the dirty-blonde rabbit girl, the latter diverting her gaze and suddenly found the sidewalk interesting.

Hyrmina huffed before suddenly grabbing Hera by the ears, Altan jumping to his feet as his friend let out a pained yelp.

"You're so pathetic. How did you even survive this long?!" She seethed, particularly grabbing unto Hera's left ear, the one that had been clipped in half, "Of course I know why. Because you keep depending on others to keep fighting for you…"

By now, most of the auxiliaries paused what they were doing, watching the spectacle unfold. All opted to stay out of it, others continuing to watch in a form of twisted amusement.

"Hyrmina, let her go!" Altan yelled, his voice cracking halfway which only caused the dark-haired rabbit to laugh.

"Stay out of it, fox! This doesn't concern you!"

"Please!" Hera grabbed onto her clipped ear

Hyrmina's ire only deepened, "I can't believe you of all people even fought for her… You should have just died with the rest of them. It's because of her that our kingdom is in ruins…" She gritted her teeth, tightening her death grip on Hera's ear, the woman's eyes beginning to tear up, "She ruined any chance we had as a kingdom!"

"Hey!" Altan darted his head to see their decanus making a beeline towards Hyrmina, his hare ears flaring out with each step. "What in the seven hells is going on, now?!"

"Little miss wench decided to get a little malicious with me!" Hyrmina said in a tone mixed between playfulness and irritation.

"I told you from the beginning, Hyrmina. All of us survivors from the purge are now brothers and sisters in arms. You lay off that vindictive rubbish."

"With this wench?" Her grip only tightened, Hera freely crying at this point.

"What? No love for your decanus?" He asked in a mockingly hurt voice before his tone darkened, "I said let her go…"

"She shouldn't be alive, Eleon!" Hyrmina cried, releasing her grip before turning to face him. "How many of our people were mindlessly slaughtered because of that wench?! We could have had something, but she had to go and ruin everything!"

"What's done is done…" Eleon sighed, "But we're here. Now. And that's what matters most. Survive this hell that these Imperial dogs throw at us. We need to continue functioning as a cohort and that attitude is going to get us all killed. So, I'm going to ask you once, and this is your only warning… Let it go."

Hyrmina stared at Eleon, who crossed his arms and stared wordlessly back.

She let out a sigh, "Fine…"

"Good…" was all he said.

Altan exhaled a breath he had been holding, walking over towards Hera still clutching her clipped ear. She silently sobbed, the fox gently putting a hand on her shoulder before asking, "Are you okay, Hera?"

She silently sniffled and nodded, Altan pressing his lips in a thin line.

He glanced back at the storekeeper, Zenko, who had been watching everything unfold, confusion written on her face as she tried deciphering what had just happened.

"...Ano…"

"Warui.. chi…" Altan stated.

"Alright!" Eleon shouted, "Caravan runners, run our loot back into the Gate along with the slaves! Everyone else, rally up in your appropriate ranks! We're about to take the fight into the next street over!"

Some war cries and chants, Zenko, flinching at every noise they made.

Altan hoisted Hera back up, handing her her spear before heading over to pick up his own spear and shield. He then walked over to Zenko, who he also gently hoisted up. She fidget and jumped at every noise the auxiliaries made, some of them particularly barking at her for the fun of it.

He hated them for it. He hated them and the bastards who took glee in this mindless slaughter. No better than the humans who oppressed them.

But he was one man in an entire legion-sized auxiliary. An auxiliary in an Empire who paid what remained of his family their stipends.

He closed his eyes, imagining his two sisters playing in the meadows in their village. Their sweet and innocent smiles, reminding him that everything will be alright.

Mai… Yue…

The horn sounded, followed by the steady beat of the marching drums.

Altan tightened his hand on Zenko as he glanced back at Hera, "Stay close."

Hera nodded, wiping what tears remained.

He then glanced down at Zenko, who fidgeted in the spot, "Chikaku.. ni… ite…"

Location: Combined Arms and Training Center Fuji (Camp Fuji)

Building 4635

Currently in the squad-bay assigned to the Marines of 3/3.

Time: 13:36 Hours

"Who the hell took my pizza MRE?!" Jackson called out across the squadbay, the Marines too busy stuffing their main packs to the brim of all their belongings, along with additional items such as ammunition and MREs issued to them upon fast-marching back to the squad-bay. "Anyone seen my pizza MRE?!"

"Let it go, dawg! That shit's gone!" Artis jeered, the Arkansas man only sneering at the North Carolinian. "Just like how that fifty-bucks is!"

"Eat my fucking ass, Artis!"

"Sucks to suck!"

"'The fuck was I supposed to know it would be Romans?!"

Artis shrugged, his lips puckered out as his facial expression twisted in a sarcastic expression of confusion.

Hilaire let out a silent snicker as he slid another 5.56 round into the thirty-round magazine, occasionally only glancing up to check the chaos surrounding him. Milo sat on his bunk next to him, shoving the rounds into his magazine with a speed loader he had brought from ebay, an excited grin plastered on his face the entire time.

And the other Marines who were crowded on their bunk bed as Hilaire's phone had MSNBC pulled up,the news anchor relaying the current crisis unfolding in Tokyo. A curse since his phone and very few others had a phone plan or provider that was compatible with the Japanese cellular towers

Gotta love T-Mobile, He thought to himself as he absent mindedly listened to the broadcasts.

"-Unknown casualties at this time. These attackers who are all dressed similarly to Roman soldiers–"

He slid another fully loaded magazine into his magazine pouch, taking the next empty magazine and starting the whole process over again.

"-What also appears to be dragons flying around-"

Another magazine loaded.

"-Still have yet to hear anything from Prime Minister Shigenori Hōjō or his cabinet in regards of possible deployment of the Japaneses Self-Defense Force-"

"This shit's got to be a drill, right?" Pattison yelled out as he stuffed his fleece gear into his mainpack," Dragons?! Centaurs?!"

"On god, I wanna call cap, too!" Artis replied, also shoving his belongings into his assault pack, "But they can't be reportin' bullshit on the news, so shit's really going down."

One by one, the Marines of 3/3 chimed in on the absolutely fucked situation presented to them.

"No man, I think it's just a drill!"

"Was it some promotional stunt gone too far?"

"What the fuck is taking so long to get the word?"

"These bastards really out here killing innocent people."

"It's gotta be a cult or something!"

"Who the hell took my Pizza MRE?!"

"Nah, they're handing us live rounds, so somethings about to go down!"

"Bet I can get a sword!"

"Are those fucking catgirls?!"

Hilaire glanced at Milo as he slid the last loaded magazine in, saying, "Got everything loaded. Need any help?"

Milo tugged the multicam web belt that had been stuffed with a bunch of accessories Hilaire was unsure would actually be utilized on the field, "I think I'm good, man. Thanks, though."

Hilaire snorted as he glanced at the Marines huddled around his camera, continuing the commentary as he turned back to Milo, "You think we're coming with them? Into combat if given the word?"

Milo clicked his teeth, "That's a riddle I cannot solve yet, my friend." He said in a mock attempt of sounding like an ancient Chinese scholar before switching to his normal voice, "Corporal King already passed the word to Staff Sergeant, so we're just at limbo until he gives us the word on if we're going with them to the embassy."

Both cameramen were headquarter augments attached to the infantry battalion, both of who weren't supposed to stay with 3/3 any longer once the military exercise ended. Olympus might've been all but over, but with the new crises on hand, both Hilaire and Milo found themselves standing by in the squadbay as the rest of the Marines of 3/3 rushed to get any and all of their belongings.

As of now, both cameramen were treating it as if they were deploying with them. Better to have everything staged and ready to go, rather than assume they weren't going with them and having to scramble to pack everything essential for a combat mission at the last possible minute.

They proceeded to triple-check each other, going over everything to make sure everything was fastened and secured.

"Can you believe this shit...?" Hilaire asked the Slav, who readjusted his plate-carrier.

Grinning, Milo answered, "Nope, but I can tell this is gonna be one of those moments we'll never forget as long as we remember." He adjusted the straps of his privately purchased coyote-tan backpack, "Japan's full of surprises, ain't it?"

Hilaire adjusted his own black-drabbed backpack he adorn to the front of his torso, which was probably well out of uniform regulations as he braced for an inevitable ass chewing for donning it rather the coyote-tan assault pack issued from CIF, "I... guess it is, ain't it...?"

Milo glanced at his phone at the muted live stream covering the crises, asking "Think I'll be able to get one of their swords?"

Hilaire shrugged, "Think they'll even get that close?"

"Doubt it, but it'll definitely be something to mount on the barracks wall."

"They don't even allow knives over three inches in the barracks. You think that'll allow what is essentially a war trophy in your room?"

"A man can dream, can he?"

"You Serbians, I swear."

"Hilaire! Milo-what's-his-face!" Both cameramen snapped towards the sound of Sharpe's booming voice, who's broad frame was making a beeline towards them.

"Staff Sergeant!" Milo and Hilaire jumped up to greet the mustached senior Marine.

"Our guys at Headquarters managed to get in contact with your chain of command," Sharpe relayed. Hilaire's heart nearly spiked, anticipation building at what the SNCO was about to relay next, "They have no problem with letting the both of you deploy with us. But they gave you the choice of if you want to go or not."

Hilaire blinked. A choice? The Marine Corps?

Sharpe continued, "But, I need to know your decision now. As in, your next words are yes or no."

Hilaire snorted, a wide nervous grin on his face as he gave his answer without even a thought into it, "Yes, Staff Sergeant!"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Staff Sergeant!" Milo chimed in a millisecond later, excitement laced in his voice as his grin widened.

Sharpe nodded before taking his leave, rushing down the entrance of the squadbay before disappearing beyond the hatch.

Hilaire glanced over at Milo, his mouth slightly agape before erupting into a small fit of nervous chuckles, Milo joining him seconds later.

This is actually happening...

No. This was actually happening. They were about to deploy into an active combat zone.

He was about to be a part of history.

He was going to be there at ground zero of it all, documenting and experiencing it live.

He blew out a breath, squeezing his eyelids shut.

Their own little 9/11.

Hilaire had only been less than eight months old when the September 11th attacks occurred, so he had absolutely no memory of the tragedy that struck the American nation. His siblings at the time were eight and twelve respectively, so they had much more recollection than he did. From what his brother and sister told him, both were in school in Vancouver watching the aftermath of the attack. None of the teachers were conducting their lessons, most of them opting to just sit at their desk as they watched the towers fall. Parents came to pick up their children, school unofficially being canceled in the wake of the attacks.

America may have been the victim, but Canada was feeling their grief with them.

Most of the world did.

Hilaire wondered if the same was happening around the world again, people watching in a state of shock as the attack transpired in Tokyo. The Japanese people tried their best to survive the crises as the world watched.

"Alright, listen up!" Sharpe's voice echoed across the squadbay, all activity coming to a grinding halt, "Grab all of your shit and file it down to the front of the building! Once we get a headcount and roger-up, we're going to double-time it to the flightline and standby for the birds to pick us up!"

"Aye, Staff Sergeant!" Most of the Marines chanted, the rustling of backpacks being hoisted on top of plate carriers.

"Squad Leaders, you got 'em!"

The squad leaders were immediately darting down the squadbay, shouting orders for the Marines to grab all their belongings and head outside. Hilaire grabbed his phone from his bunk, the Marines surrounded it all scattering to grab their own gear before making a single file outside the hatch.

Hilaire stuck close to Milo, who marched with a determined pace as his expression was mixed with glee. He wondered if Milo was even an ounce afraid of going into potential combat. Granted, the embassy was well aways from Ginza, but the risks of an encounter with these Romans was still certainly a possibility.

If Milo was afraid, he certainly did not show it. Thus, putting Hilaire's own anxiety and fear at bay.

They all filed outside the barracks, they got a quick headcount to ensure they indeed had everyone and that no one somehow managed to get lost or still back at the squadbay. Once they had full accountability, they fast marched towards the fightline, the Platoon managing to stay filed and aligned to one another as they carried their rifles down the streets.

Both Milo and Hiliare broke away from formation to record and photograph this potential historical deployment of the Marines heading into the danger zone to protect the innocent.

Hilaire aimed his Nikon D7 at the formation as they jogged in full kit towards the flightline, weapons in hand as their mainpacks and assault packs loaded to the brim rustled with each heavy step.

Snap

Hilaire tried matching the pace with the platoon, while also focusing on keeping his camera steady enough for a shot as to not make his photos blurry with the excessive movement. A rather tricky balance to achieve.

Snap

He turned his head to see a multitude of troops from different platoons or services running to and fro, the base buzzing with activity akin to a literal hornet's nest.

He pointed his camera at two Japanese Jietai carrying an ammo crate towards a Japanese platoon assembled outside their barracks.

Snap

He exhaled a tired breath, trying to fight the fatigue of jogging in full kit towards the flightline, his spare cameras clacking hard against his M4's metal frame with each step he took. A white government-issued Toyota sped past them, its cargo full of ammo crates being delivered to the next company who needed it. Hilaire shakily aimed his camera as he tried to suck in a few quick breaths, trying his best to ignore the tightening sensation in his lungs.

Snap

They managed to reach the edge of the makeshift landing strip where they saw a couple of MV-22B Ospreys and CH-53E Super Stallions lined up, their engines beginning to drown out the surrounding noises as their platoon made it towards the flightline, being escorted through the fence by the security staff. Hilaire leaned over to catch his breath as beads of sweat began manifesting around the brim of his forehead. The respite didn't last long as Sharpe gave the command for the Marines to count off from the front once again.

One by one, they counted off, trying to scream over the nearly deafening sounds of the helicopter's rotors and engines. They took a knee after saying their respective number, doing so to ensure there was no confusion. Thankfully, they all got it right on the first try, and full accountability.

Once again, everyone managed to stick together through the chaos, taking notice of their sister platoons of their company arriving at the flightline and doing the exact same thing they did in ensuring an accurate headcount.

Then he was surprised when he saw soldiers from the U.S. Army filing it right next to them, their 82nd Airborne shoulder patches visible from where he stood.

Must be the soldiers coming with us to reinforce the embassy, he deduced, raising his camera to take a photo of the Soldiers and Marines staging their gear to embark on the helicopters waiting to take them into the chaos.

He turned around to look at said helicopters on the tarmac that would be giving them a ride.

Hilaire counted six Ospreys lined up next to each other, a cloud of dust kicking up from the rotor wash.

Snap.

Adjacent to the Ospreys were the four Stallions, similarly kicking up dust from the makeshift runway.

Snap.

He turned around to witness the higher-ups from each company huddled together, discussing something inaudible to him under the deafening roar of the helicopter engines. After what seemed like a couple of minutes, the huddle broke up, each leader heading back towards their respective platoons.

Hilaire straightened up when Lieutenant Cooper motioned for the men to assemble in column formation. Organizing from the most junior enlisted to the most senior. After a little shuffling, the platoon was organized to embark into the helicopter going to give them a lift, which appeared to be an Osprey.

He turned to see that the soldiers from the 82nd coming with them were going to be airlifted by the 53s, trying to suppress the smirk of the idea that the Marines would be the ones carrying the Army into battle.

The Canadian-born Marine raised his Cannon camera the moment Cooper turned to face the platoon, a look of determination on his face as the Osprey's crew chief moved aside from the mounted M240B on the ramp.

Snap.

"Move it Marines! Go, go, go!" The lieutenant screamed, barely audible over the roaring engines of the helicopters on the dirt tarmac, "File it from the very back!"

One by one, the Marines from 1st platoon filed inside the Osprey, becoming nearly obscured by the abyss in the VTOL's lowly lit cabin.

Snap.

Hilare lowered his camera, slowly clenching his teeth as he stared into the belly of the MV-22 that would take him to his first combat deployment. He glanced at Milo again, who still had an elated grin on his face as he stepped forward to embark into the vehicle.

Again, his own worries were put at ease upon seeing the excitement on Milo's face.

He stepped forward, keeping up with the same pace as the platoon until he was on the ramp of the Osprey. He ducked to avoid hitting his head, taking his seat on the port side of the helo right next to Milo.

He felt a strong grip tug at his shoulder, looking up to see Corporal King sitting down right next to him, his ivory skin nearly making him a complete silhouette in the lowly lit cabin.

"Remember your training!" He shouted over the sounds of the osprey's engines, "This ain't the field anymore! This shit is about to get real! Don't be nervous! Don't second guess yourself! We got your backs, alright?!"

"Aye, Corporal!" Hilaire responded, King giving a small reassuring smile before giving Hilaire another pat on the shoulder.

"You've been doing good, man! I know you had that hiccup in the beginning, but I've watched you grow and improve since then. Just keep up with what you've been doing and be an asset! You and Milo are about to be showcasing the world of how the Marine Corps once again makes history!"

Hilaire nodded, "Thanks, corporal! I'll do my best out there!"

The rest of the squad filed in, Cooper and Sharpe at the tail end of the cabin. This was how it was, right? Senior personnel were the first ones to have boots on the ground to coordinate troop movement. He raised his camera just as he felt the jolt of the Osprey lift up, nearly letting out a surprised yelp as they were now airborne.

Tokyo bound... He blew out a breath as chills ran down his spine. They were combat correspondents who were there to document one of the largest exercises conducted in the Pacific. And now, they were combat correspondents as a part of the first response against an enemy terrorizing the people of Tokyo.

Marines... Always adaptive... Always flexible...

Location: Tokyo, Japan

Over the Skies of Tokyo

Time: 14:08 Hours

"Careful, girl..." The airborne cavalry flier cooed his wyvern as it circled yet another tall pillar that served as a building, tightening his grip on the reins so as to not fall off his mount from the graceful yet sharp maneuver the flying beast pulled off.

The cavalry man glanced down at the chaotic streets below, scanning for the banners that belonged to his assigned legion.

He found the green banners with three white vertical bands, directing his wyvern towards where the majority of their forces were concentrated.

He circled above them, taking a moment to glance at the chaos below.

The frontal ranks were slaughtering people as they blitzed into the streets, the ranks behind them taking the panicked survivors as slaves.

There were lines of slaves who had been stripped or in the process of being stripped, all bound and gagged and tied to a line of rope being escorted by the rear echelons into where the Gate had spawned. Most of them were men, though he did spot a few women into the mix, leaving little to the imagination of what fate awaited them.

Mixed in with them were the looters who were grabbing everything that wasn't tied down or built onto the foundation. Some of the larger men and a few ogres were even attempting to pull one of the horseless wagons into the Gate.

By the Divines… It was times like these that he was glad to be part of the air cavalry where he was away from the chaos unwinding down below.

He then directed the legion into the street next to them that had yet to have its bazaars pillaged and its people kidnapped.

The legion then reconsolidated their structure, then proceeded to advance into the street he had pointed at, beginning the process all over again.

He then directed his wyvern to fly high above, joining the other flyers who were conducting similar tasks of reconnaissance or partaking in the chaos themselves, throwing javelins into the fleeing crowd.

His eyes scanned the city skyline, his mouth twisted in anxious curiosity at the sheer size of it. It had to be at least ten times larger than their own capitol, of which he thought, up until this very moment, was the pinnacle of achievement man could only dream of achieving.

This city's mere existence proved that wrong, which was why Molt and the senate were so adamant of taking as many of these natives as possible.

He continued glancing at the landscape the city was built on.

It resided on a coast, a bay area from the looks of it, with a mountain in the far distance that almost appeared to reach the heavens. Well, that at least confirmed that this world wasn't just one large city and that there indeed was farmland if you venture far enough.

Venture far enough…

He scoffed.

There's no way...

In no reality could the Empire ever even dream of conquering this city. The scale of it alone would bankrupt what little money in their economy they had left in just a mere week.

And by the Gods, the logistical trail that would be needed to even attempt to pull off such a feat! They would absolutely run out of resources within a month at best if they decided to invade and annex the place.

Suffice to say, it was a good call on Emperor Molt and the senate for them to conduct a simple raid and retreat within the following day.

However…

He steered left, the wyvern gracefully gliding in the direction, circling over a cohort that ventured too far out, then motioning towards the direction where their main forces were concentrated at. A legionnaire took notice of him and relayed it to his section leader, who then glanced up at him where he had been pointing at. The leader nodded, said something he couldn't hear, and then the pair ventured back towards the main street where their legion had pillaged.

He let out a sigh. Even with just a raid, the chaotic layout of the city made a coordinated effort nearly impossible. The tall buildings mostly obscured the flyers out of view from the ground elements. Sieges into cities were always the most challenging form of warfare, but at least the geometry of the cities in their world made sense and was consistent for the most part. This city trumped anything anyone has ever seen before, presenting a new challenge no one was exactly prepared for.

Thus, it was their job to keep the invading armies together and point them towards places of interest, and locate stranded cohorts and point them back towards the main element.

A complicated task made all the more complicated with these tall buildings obscuring them from the forces on the ground.

Despite the few headaches and minor setbacks, quite a few of them took the liberty of scouting ahead to spot more potential targets of interest. It was then he and a few of his wingmen spotted a large crowd of fleeing peasants making a beeline towards a tall building that stood isolated from the rest.

He steered right, his wyvern making a circle above the building, a couple of other fliers following his example.

He squinted, noticing the building was fenced off and manned by a few sentries in dark tunics. He then glanced at the rooftop of the building, seeing a few figures crouching down. These figures appeared green and tan, pointing what appeared to be crossbows at them.

He blinked, Could they be men from this world's armies? A small garrison?

He circled again, trying to get a close look at them while still trying to be out of the range of their crossbows. Even from up in the air, he could pick out some unique features he and the others haven't seen on the cohortes urbanae.

Still, he and the others would have to get a closer look at it. While he could avoid their arrows, he didn't want to risk his flier getting injured and potentially stranded in this alien labyrinth.

Using his hands to signal the other fliers, he motioned for them to regroup and report this building to their legate.

It was then his closest wingman suddenly exploded in a red mist, huge holes rupturing from its torso and belly that splattered blood on him.

The cavalryman yelped, instinctively steering his wyvern away

What in the seven hells?!-

Another wyvern within their formation exploded in a cloud of red mist, the rider falling out of his mount and into the streets below.

Then another wyvern.

And then another.

"Down, girl!" The cavalryman shouted the command, "Into the streets!"

His wyvern immediately nosedived towards the streets of the city, the maneuver almost launching him over his mount and into his certain death below. Wind gushed against his face, the whooshing in his ear canals nearly drowning the chaos around him as he witnessed yet another wyvern and its rider explode into chunks of gore that rained down toward the earth.

His wyvern managed to land in an unspecified street, one of the horseless wagons nearly colliding into them as it came to a grinding halt. His wyvern arched her back, letting out a threatening hiss at the strange contraption. Behind the wagon's glass, the cavalry can see the panicked look of its sole occupant, who could only stare up at them in paralyzed fear.

More of the horseless wagons came skittering to a halt behind the one that had stopped in front of them, some of which were letting out a strange wail he had never heard before. Soon, the entire road was clogged, the chorus of their wails echoing across the surrounding buildings.

He scanned the streets and sidewalks, discovering that the Imperial Army had yet to siege this particular area with the amount of natives still around, who were staring at him in a mixture of both shock and disbelief as his wyvern continued making threatening hisses at the horseless wagons in front of them.

Behind enemy territory He gritted his teeth upon realizing that fact, unsheathing his sword in preparation for these natives to swarm him and his wyvern. To his relief, none of the natives of this city-state dared try rushing them, opting to keep gazing upon them at a distance. Which meant he was safe for now-

Another wyvern and its rider flying above were torn into minced meat, the beast's remains falling hard on top of a building.

What in Hardy's name is taking out our air cavalry?!

He quickly realized he and his wyvern were out in the open, panic building up as he pondered if they were the next victim of this invisible killer. Once again scanning the surrounding area, his eyes landed upon a narrow alleyway just barely large enough for him and his winged steed to squeeze into. He gritted his teeth, wallowing in the fact that the tight space would cause his wyvern to be unable to flap her wings and take off in the event he had to suddenly flee the area.

A dying wail pierced into his ears, witnessing yet another wyvern slain in the skies above.

Oh Emory's cock...!

"In there, girl!" he pointed at the alleyway, his wyvern darting her head in the direction he pointed at. A second later, she galloped over to the deserted alleyway, hissing at the native peasants on the sidewalk that dived out of their way. After triple checking to make sure the alleyway was indeed deserted, his wyvern backed into the secluded safe haven, just barely slim enough to fit inside.

He glanced upwards towards the blue sky, nervously biting his lip as the gladius he held trembled in his grip. Every small noise would cause him to jump, pointing the tip of the blade toward wherever he thought the sounds were coming from. His wyvern huffed, also scanning left and right as if looking for any ominous being that could materialize out of nowhere and spell doom for the both of them.

The images of his fellow wingmen gored without explanation sent a chill down his back, the gladius fidgeting even more at the mere thought he would just randomly explode before he even knew what was happening.

What was it?! A dark mage? Some ominous deity? Did they enrage the Gods because of their transgressions into this world? By the Gods, what if they were-

A strange noise sounded above, reverberating off the walls as if the source was coming from an angry drummer beating as hard and fast as they could. The sound grew louder, causing him to hold onto his wyvern and whisper a silent prayer before accepting his inevitable demise.

His wyvern seemed to lower herself closer to the earth, her head peering upwards at the sky where the sound was coming from.

Then, for the briefest of moments, they both saw them.

They flew like wyverns. But wyverns, they certainly weren't. They were shaped like insects, dragonflies if he were to quickly guess, and flew with a grace and noise that overshadowed the sounds around them.

And just like that, they were quickly gone. But more of them followed suit, some in different shapes and sizes, some in different colour, but all made the same loud noises of an angry drummer and roaring beast that had no end.

His wyvern tucked her tail in, making a few whining sounds as more of those strange beasts continued making their sorties in the skies above. They had either been noticed by them, or they hadn't. Either way, they were trapped in that alleyway just as he feared. It didn't take much to put two and two together to realize that these beasts were responsible for slaying his wingmen with whatever ungodly magic they possessed.

He patted his whining wyvern, never taking his gaze away from the sky as the beasts would appear and disappeared behind his limited field of view.

Hilaire glanced down towards the crystal blue ocean reflecting gloriously along the Japanese coastline. It would have been almost beautiful had it not been for the large armada of helicopters flying in formation toward the city of Tokyo. Along with the Ospreys and Stallions that picked up the Marine and Army contingent he found himself in, he counted four AH-1Zs Vipers that escorted them. They had been joined by four Japanese CH-47Js, escorted by four Japanese AH-1S Cobras when they finally reached the outskirts of Tokyo Bay.

All of which were loaded up to the maximum on weapons or men carrying weapons.

He held out his Nikon D7, trying his hardest to hold his arms steady so his camera could focus on the armada of helos from his view. The digital display went dark for a split second before showing the Cameraman the still image he'd successfully managed to capture.

Hilaire zoomed in on the still image on his camera's digital display, quietly admiring his handiwork before closing his eyes, trying to process the surreal feeling of it all.

Live ordnance being carried over mainland Japan with the intent to use it. Plans have been drawn up in record time to facilitate the threat at hand.

A threat to the innocent.

It wouldn't be the Chinese that the Marines would be taking the fight to, contrary to the entire exercise of Olympus.

It wouldn't be another Middle-Eastern sandlot that would experience the overwhelming shock and awe of American firepower.

It came in the form of Romans pillaging the streets of downtown Tokyo, along with creatures that should've only belonged in books of fiction and old folklore.

So much for all that training deterring Mainland China…

A small snicker escaped Hilaire's lips.

Six weeks. Six weeks of their lives were spent training hard in preparation for an unofficial cold-war going hot with the Chinese juggernaut, their main build-up and subsequent increased aggressions in the South China Sea in response to Olympus leaving everyone on edge. Harassment of coalition vessels along with interceptions in Japanese air space, the Marine Cameraman half expected the PLANMC to seize the Senkaku islands.

Yet, it did not seem to matter at the moment, the real enemy of the Japanese people emerging literally on their front door.

He turned and looked inwards at the Marines that sat inside the belly of the Osprey, awaiting their chance to get into the fighting. Artis gripped onto his M240B, the gap in his front teeth flashing as he appeared to be having one of his playful verbal spats with Jackson, Hilaire wishing he could hear the humorous PFC over the Osprey's loud engines. Other Marines besides Artis carried the M240B machine guns they might be used to suppress the numerically superior enemy. Some had M320s on their persons, a select few carried the M4 carbine, and two men carried the M38 DMRs.

"Hey, Milo?!" Hilaire shouted to his counterpart next to him, the Serbian man darting his head as his eyebrows rose in curiosity, "We're gonna be alright, right?!"

Milo simply smiled, setting his hand on Hilaire's shoulder, "We'll be alright, man! Just keep your head in the game and be aware of your surroundings! Do as they say and we'll be fine!"

Hilaire nodded, lurching over to look at the osprey's small window port to see the Tokyo skyline coming into view.

"HQ, this is Outlaw-One-Two, we've reached the Tokyo city-limits. Beginning our descent into The American Embassy. How copy?" Hilaire heard the comms through his headset. The peaks of tall buildings became obscured as the ospreys flew over the downtown area, a few of the Cobra gunships breaking off to engage the dragons and wyverns flying about.

Hilaire tried to look down at the large city of Tokyo below, seeing dark smoke from wild-fires billowing not too far from where they hovered. Even from here, he could see the heavy clog of traffic, both vehicles and people.

He took it all in, hardly able to believe he was in this situation.

"Thirty seconds!" Cooper shouted into the headset, double-checking his gear to make sure he had everything on him.

The Marines in the Osprey began to adjust buckles on packs, kevlars, ammo carriers, basically anything that could slip or move for the dozenth time. So began the ritual the Marines had been doing for hundreds of years, the deep breath before the plunge.

It's said that those who go into combat and aren't afraid are either lying or crazy.

He tried to keep those thoughts out of his mind as he absently ran a finger through his curly, black hair strapped under his ECH kevlar.

The Osprey pilots pulled back on the controls, pulling the VTOL's nose into the air, and slowing into a halt. The crew chief wobbled slightly from his precarious perch on the ramp of the Osprey, before he pushed the coiled rope from out the ramp, and it plummeted to the rooftop of the embassy building, curling slightly at the bottom as the excess hit the ground.

"Green light!" The crew chief yelled, still holding onto the mounted M240B machine gun, actively hunting for targets. Hilaire took a moment to snap a photo of the crew chief, ensuring his personal Cannon camera had been secured tight before slinging his M4 over his front and pulling his gloves tighter over his hands.

Cooper had been the first one to grip onto the rope, wrapping his legs around it.

"Green light, go go go!" The crew chief patted Lieutenant Cooper, who then reduced his grip, allowing himself to slide down, disappearing from the cameraman's view.

Moments later, Staff Sergeant Sharpe was right behind him.

One by one, the Marines repelled out of the osprey from the most senior to the most junior. Being a lance corporal of Marines, Hilaire was sort of in the middle end of the ordeal, having some time to prepare and brace himself for what he was about to do.

Hilaire gritted his teeth as his turn came when King had fast-roped down onto the rooftop, the rope slid coming into his grip as he tightened as humanly possible. His feet suddenly became heavy, his heartbeat picking up as he struggled to keep his anxiety in check. He peered over the ramp just in time to see King land on the rooftop, also taking the time to glance into the urban terrain below where the Embassy was located.

Hilaire gripped the rope tighter, criss-crossing with the fabric between his legs as he positioned himself over the ramp. Holding his breath, he tried to ignore his heartbeat rapidly thumping against his plate-carrier.

Please don't fall… Please… don't… fall…!

"Go, go!" The crew chief's voice had been barely audible over the osprey's engines.

Upon command, Hilaire loosened his grip on the rappelling cable, tightening his legs as humanly possible as he took the first step off the ramp, the other foot following suit before finding himself sliding down towards the embassy roof. His cameras and M4 that had been hanging on him from their straps jingled from the Osprey's jet blasts, causing him to fight the urge to hasten his descent towards the rooftop. He glanced around his surroundings all the while he slid down, tall gray buildings flanking him as the afternoon sun cast a glare from the abundant windows. He noted the large crowd of people right outside the fence that separated American and Japanese soil. Then the occasional green and tan blobs inside the embassy courtyard, no doubt the Marines who were part of the Quick Reaction Force.

Hilaire glanced upwards at the Osprey, the aircraft becoming smaller as he slid down toward the building. Moments later, Milo appeared over the ramp before fast-roping himself, his goggles keeping the winds from his eyes as he carried on down, before his Bates boots made contact with the rooftop. Hilaire instantly dropped to one knee, bringing his carbine to the ready stance, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted.

"Hilaire! Over here!" King shouted, motioning him over towards the entrance of the embassy's roof access, "Move it! Don't block the way!"

The cameraman was instantly darting over to where King had directed, instantly taking a knee and taking a few quick breaths. He quickly took out his Cannon camera, taking a few shots of the Marines deploying from the Osprey.

Artis was the last one down, nearly dropping the heavy machine gun before quickly recomposing himself and heading towards the roof access. The crew chief detached the rappelling cable, dropping the rope onto the rooftop as it coiled against the surface with an audible smack. After a few seconds, the Osprey began to fly off, another one taking its place as its crew chief dropped the rappelling cable for the Marines to fast-rope just as they had.

Snap.

Dennis watched the Marine Ospreys file it off, one by one, tapping his boots impatiently as the Marines riding them disappeared into the roof access of the embassy save for the ones providing overwatch.

With that, it was now time for the CH-53s to begin to disembark the soldiers onto the rooftop.

The 53's, being heavier and bigger than the Ospreys, had to take longer to get into position while also trying not to collide into the tall skyscrapers that surrounded the American embassy.

Damn Marines and their big vehicles...

He'd rather be in an Army Blackhawk that he'd grown comfortable and used to riding. Hell, a C-130 was preferable to this behemoth he and his men rode on. Still, it managed to fit a sizable portion of the squad compared to the limited capacity of a Blackhawk.

The Marine crew chief tossed the recoiling cable onto the rooftop, giving it a few tugs before signaling to Captain Rhodes that he was clear to begin fast-roping down.

The Captain did so, the Marine manning his machine gun to provide cover for any unwanted guest trying to harm him or his boys.

Sean shouted behind him, "Don't fall!"

Dennis snorted, saying "Same to you!"

One by one, each soldier slid down the metal cable until Dennis was at the edge of the ramp, his turn next as he watched one of his soldiers make contact with the roof.

It's just like jumping out of a C-130... ain't no biggie... just don't have a parachute if I slip...

The scene from Black Hawk Down played in his mind of the Ranger's grip slipping from the rappel cable when the Blackhawk suddenly swerved to avoid enemy fire, causing Dennis to tighten his grip on the cable faster.

The Marine Crewchief shouted at him, "Go go go!"

Almost on instinct, Dennis stepped over the ramp as he cross-crossed the cable between his legs, loosening his grip to slide down.

Airborne!

He shook his head. If he wanted to rappel out of helicopters, he would've joined the 101st "Airborne" which specialized in air assault. This was a far cry from parachuting into enemy lines, but he'd take it. Besides, he was partaking in a historic moment. He was here right where an enemy manifested out of nowhere bringing with them creatures he heard from bedtime stories.

If riding in old Marine equipment barely held together by duct tape was the price to pay to be here, then so be it.

His boots made contact with the concrete of the roof, releasing the cable as he took a knee, M4 raised. He then proceeded to run towards the roof access to join the other soldiers who had already made their way inside, glancing at a pair of Marines who had their cameras out recording it all.

The one nearest the line was wiry in a way that reminded him of…

Dennis stopped when he recognized one of the Marine correspondents, his eyes quickly glancing over before they widened as they also flashed in recognition.

The dark Marine's mouth went agape, "Orville...?!"

"Hilaire..."

"...Holy shit!"

They stood there for maybe a millisecond longer before Hilaire had nodded towards the entrance of the roof access of embassy. A nod that said 'you have somewhere to be'.

Dennis replied with his own nod before entering the roof access and filing down the narrow stairs below where the rest of the soldiers were filing down towards.

Of course that weeb would be here in Japan…

A/N: Yep. I know I said that these two chapters would've been posted like a week apart...

I seriously overestimated my abilities to write and publish now that I have to balance between work and being a family guy. These chapters were originally all but completed, but after rereading them, I decided to scrap some stuff because of how much they didn't make sense.

Since I'm going with the revision (and I'm not changing directions again), I guess I could tell you what I originally planned.

It was going to be Hilaire and the Marines from 3/3 and Orville from the 82nd would help the Japanese SAT and JSDF push into the ward of Ginza to rescue the citizens of Japan trapped behind enemy lines.

Buuuuuut, this is Japan... a foreign country.

For my Americans here, how would you like it if the Gate opened in Dallas or San Diego and you suddenly saw a large contingent of Mexican troops fighting in the streets of the US? Sure, they're our allies and whatnot and they overall have good intentions of protecting you from danger. Buuuut I'm sure you know where I'm going with this. The U.S. and Japanese have the Mutual Defense Treaty, yes, but that doesn't mean they'll be keen on the idea of deploying foreign troops into their own cities to fight what (appears to be) a largely a domestic issue. It isn't like the Russians or Chinese are mass-paradropping into Japan like it's World in Conflict. The JSDF and Police are actually more than capable of pushing back the assault, as they did in canon.

I've often seen a lot of Gate writers whose stories follow canon but with "X" Nation sending their troops into the streets of Tokyo along with the JSDF to fight the Saderans. I cannot stress enough that an act like that would be a large PR nightmare and an overall embarrassment to the Japanese politicians that they'd delay or outright deny any foreign deployment into their cities. Unless there's a large force like China or Russia overrunning cities and setting up FOBs on Japanese soil, the odds of the Japanese allowing the deployment of Americans and any other foreign troops on their soil to quell what is essentially a domestic issue is... slim to none.

Sucks... I know, but in the words of a large purple man with a golden gauntlet "reality is often disappointing".

With that, I'm going the mostly canon route with the Diet sending in the JSDF... albeit... in a much later time than in canon.

Why the delay? The JSDF are ready and waiting!

Why? Look no further than the March 11th Earthquake as mentioned in the story above. It took so long for them to authorize the deployment of the JSDF that it's argued it contributed to more lives lost than had they deployed as soon as the earthquake happened.

So right now, my plans are just having the JSDF deploy later as the SAT try holding on their own while the U.S. goes to defend their embassy against a siege.

"Dennis Orville?! From The Fight we Chose?!"

Yes. Dennis Orville. That Dennis Orville. You've read it right the first time. DFMRCV and I basically collaborated on our OCs together with permission of course. He is helping me write this fanfic, as I'm helping him write his now more original piece. If you want to see Hilaire and a few characters on here appear in the newly revised The Fight We Chose, you can read it on the Royal Roads website under his username.

I'd link it, but FF doesn't exactly like that.

With that, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter should conclude the Ginza incident and begin to shift focus on the aftermath and consequences of it. I'm not trying to give a specific date on when it'll be released. I'm just going to try getting it out of the way as quickly as I can...

in Valve time...

Don't hurt me...